#for personal reasons this makes me overly emotional and unable to look away

[fuckthemforthis]

And he lives carefree, forever captured in a moment of simple joy.

[chuuyascumsock]

Holding you, Holding me [Week One] || MINORS DNI

Summary: Dazai hurt your feelings, but he knows just how to make up for it.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Hurt/Comfort, 3.1K Words, Fingering, Gentle Sex, Cuddle-Fucking, Soft-Dom Dazai, Petnames (Baby, Darling, Sweet Girl, etc.), Slight Cockwarming/Plugging, He’s Not The Pullout King For A Reason, Physically Unable.

Sinners: @pe4rl-diver , @sakui1 , @mxya-dreams , @runs-withscissors , @writingandmusing , @mairia-chan , @dearestwitchtrials

As much as Dazai slacked off on the office aspect of his job, missions never allowed much leniency with his usual shenanigans and horrid procrastinating tendencies, especially with so many lives at stake.

You think you do a pretty decent job at giving Dazai his space when need be, but it had been nearly a month since you had last seen him or even talked to him. Being a detective and getting into so many life threatening situations, it wasn’t a surprise that he only carried around a small device given to him by the agency to keep in touch with other members, though he occasionally found a way to ping you from time to time on it or forced— ahem— politely asked Ango to pass on a message from him. When he finally returned, you couldn’t help yourself but be all over him, wanting to follow his every step and cling to him as much as possible.

Dazai was already tired and grouchy from the whole ordeal of having to put up with so many people for so many days, feeling the overwhelming need to be alone. He tried his best to ignore the small pinch of irritation in the back of his mind when you clung to him as soon as he walked through the door and bombarded him with questions about his well-being, knowing you were merely being a caring partner to him.

But when a couple hours passed and you continued to follow his shadow and attempt more conversation with him, he couldn’t help but let a sound of annoyance huff through his nose and speak in a monotone, “Don’t you have any concept of personal space? I clearly don’t want to be around you right now.” If he wasn’t thinking about how he worded things before, he definitely did after he glanced over and saw your face.

First, you were taken aback by his words and tone, having never experienced Dazai act like this towards you before— and then the hurt settled in quickly after, expression falling, brows lowering, and lips parting just barely. You try to find words to say, but nothing comes out. There’s a subtle ache in your chest and lump in your throat and you think about how embarrassing it is to get so worked up over a couple of words and how you probably looked like an overly-emotional mess to Dazai. Doing your best to keep yourself from crying, you advert your glassy eyes and tilt your head down, nodding with a barely comprehensible, “Ok...” Before shuffling away to another part of the apartment to leave him alone just as he wanted.

Dazai regrets what he says to you almost immediately, but can’t find it in him to follow after you or say anything at the moment.

When you don’t sleep next to him that night like you usually do after his longer missions, he knows you’re still upset by his words as you lay near the edge of the futon, back facing him. It only gets worse when he tries to pull you in and curl up against your back from behind, your hands moving to pull him off you and put distance between you once more. He murmurs your name in a near whine, only feeling the regret hit him tenfold when you throw his words back in his face, “Don’t you have any concept of personal space?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dazai sighs, trying once more to cuddle with you— only to get the same treatment once again.

“You’re not,” You mumble, pulling your separate covers up more to shield yourself from him, blocking any further attempts of him trying to hold you.

Dazai is unable to hold back the frustrated noise that slips from the back of his throat as he gives up and lays on his back to face the ceiling, a distressed expression etched on his face.

Just how was he supposed to show you that he was sorry?

It only takes around an hour until Dazai gets an idea, a lopsided grin spreading across his lips as he glances over to your already unconscious form. After sleeping on it, Dazai wakes up before you for once and gets ready to go into work, taking the time to sneak a kiss onto your forehead as you sleep before taking off.

You go about your own day, noticing that Dazai had woken up before you and left without waking you up to even tell you, souring your mood further. You know that you were partly to blame because he tried to fix the issue and you turned your back on him, but you weren’t about to accept a half-assed apology from him after the way he spoke to you. By the time you get back home from work, you don’t feel like making dinner, but you do anyway— even if you are still mad and undeniably want to just leave Dazai to fend for himself for the night. Because you know that if you don’t, he’ll most likely eat half a can of crab meat and drink a bottle of sake, or maybe not even eat at all due to his concerning eating habits.

You’ve most likely dulled your cooking knives in the process as you aggressively chop ingredients like they owe you money, tossing them messily into a stirring bowl after with the rest of your ingredients. Your eyes flicker to the clock a couple of times throughout and you notice that Dazai is late which causes your eye to twitch. “Oh, so he’s just avoiding me now completely? That…” You trail off, muttering to yourself angrily as your movements grow more tense.

When you hear the front door open, you don’t make any move to greet him at the door like you usually would, too distracted and upset to care that Dazai had finally come home. It’s only when you feel his lanky body press against your back that you break out of your stewing anger to tell him off before a bouquet of purple hyacinths is held in front of your face and keeps you quiet. Your head turns to look over your shoulder at him, squinting momentarily as you take in the way his lips quirk up at your silence, meaning he was already a step into being forgiven.

“Hey, sweet pea,” Dazai’s soft tone nearly makes you melt, but you turn away from him and keep cooking despite the flowers in your face. A frown crosses his features for a moment before washing away, not deterred one bit by your attitude. “Baby…” He trails off, bringing his free hand to your own in order to grasp your wrist lightly and stop you from cooking further. “Don’t ignore me, please? I missed you all day,” He tries coaxing you into moving away from the counter, but you stay put.

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m giving you space,” You emphasize. “Cause you don’t wanna be around me.”

Dazai loudly groans, placing the hyacinths aside to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into the crook of your neck. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, ‘donna. There’s nothing more that I want than to be around you all the time…”

You wriggle in his arms, only to feel them squeeze around you tighter as you attempt to free yourself. “Yeah, well that still doesn’t change the fact that you said it and it hurt my feelings…” You continue to struggle for a bit until you give up, doing the only thing you can do and lean back against him.

“I know, I suck,” Dazai muffles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss against your skin. “I was irritated and I took it out on you— m’sorry.” His kisses trail up to your jaw and then your cheek, lips smothering your flushing skin in a flurry of sweet pecks. “Don’t be mad at me anymore?” He begs, lengthy fingers inching their way underneath your shirt to run along your soft skin.

“I didn’t see you for a month,” You start, just on the verge of letting it go when one of his hands teases the waistband of your shorts.

“And it was terrible, sweet heart,” He responds with a pout, lips moving to your temple as his hand under your shirt caresses your stomach soothingly.

“I really missed you,” You whisper, subconsciously leaning further into his touch. “And you were really mean.”

“I’ll try not to do it again,” Dazai promises as he pulls back, moving back down to finally press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.

You finally give in, knowing that you couldn’t be upset with him for too long, especially with the month long distance that you had just experienced. You kiss him back lovingly, tilting your head for a better angle as you reach a hand back to grip into his dark hair. When you pull away, you give a small sigh and mumble, “Okay… m’not mad at you anymore.”

“That’s good,” Dazai smiles, moving his hands away from your shorts and out of your shirt. “But I still wanna show you how sorry I am,” He insists, scooping you up into his arms as he takes you into the living room to sit on the couch with you sat sideways in his lap.

“I was in the middle of cooking dinner,” You complain, but don’t try and escape again as you’ve learned your lesson the first time. Your arms loop around his neck and he gives you a boyish grin in return, wrapping his own arms loosely around your waist.

“Dinner can wait,” Dazai murmurs, tugging your shorts off carefully as he leans in to pepper the side of your face with kisses again. “This is more important, don’t you think, darling?” He drops your shorts to the floor, slender hand coming to run from your ankle, up your calf, to along the outside of your thigh slowly, squeezing the flesh between his lithe fingers. “Hm?”

You feel his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your cheek, lips finding their way back to your jaw as he waits for an answer. On one hand, you want to finish cooking dinner, but on the other— how could you ever pass up on the opportunity he’s giving you, especially considering how long you’ve gone without him? He’s working his way to your neck when you respond, mouth sucking softly at your skin to leave a hickey. “Okay, fine— but nothing too much, I still need to finish dinner after because I know you haven’t eaten today,” You compromise, sighing softly when he hums against your neck and then pulls away to admire the dark mark he made.

“Always looking out for me— more than I deserve. My sweet girl,” Dazai coos quietly, trailing his hand from the outside of your thigh to the inside, running his fingertips over the crotch of your underwear.

You can’t help but let your body meld against his, letting him arrange and touch you the way he wants to as his saccharine words overtake your senses. When he presses his fingers against your crotch, a low groan slips from your lips, face turning to hide in his neck. “No…”

“Yes,” Dazai chuckles, applying more pressure to press between your folds and rub along the fabric of your underwear against your clit. The man only grins further when your hips jolt at his touch, spurring him further with his soft touches and sweet kisses. “You know you do, sweet pea. Cause you’re the best girlfriend, right?” He revels in the way you whine at his pampering, unable to help the overwhelming need to continue until you’re a babbling mess in his hands. Which is why he’s quick to move his finger from your clothed folds to dip into your waistband and continue where he left off, rubbing at your sensitive nub with a gentle touch as he kisses your face. “Right?”

You choke out a moan, thighs pressing together tightly to trap his hand, but his fingers keep moving which has you squirming. “Fuck, ‘Samu—“

“Oh, so close, but that’s not an answer, baby,” Dazai chimes out, prying your thighs apart with his hands before slipping his hand back into your panties to push a finger into your entrance, grinning widely when you gasp. It doesn’t hurt when he slides it in, his fingers thin and your insides slicked with arousal already, but the stretch from his second finger entering has your gummy walls squeezing around him tightly. “Answer me,” He giggles, pressing his fingers as far as possible until the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit.

“Nghh— right! Y-You’re right, ‘Samu,” You squeak out, rutting your pussy against his hand and moaning from the way your throbbing clit drags against his palm.

“Good girl, baby,” Dazai coos, curling his fingers with each pump to press against the spongy parts of your insides that make you desperately grind along with his touch, face burying deeper into the crook of his neck. “You’re so cute, sweet heart, humping my hand so desperately. Like my fingers that much?”

Despite wanting to wipe his cocky smirk off his lips, you can’t help but clench around his digits tighter at his teasing, encouraging Dazai to quicken his fingers and dig the heel of his hand as firmly against your clit as possible. When his finger crooked to prod at your g-spot once more, you fall apart with a pitchy keen, coming around his fingers as he watches on, enthralled with how you melt into his chest already spent from his attention. Panting softly, you whine at the loss of his fingers filling you up as he withdraws them from your pussy to bring to his lips and clean off your release.

Dazai hums lightly before pulling his fingers out and pinching your chin gently to tilt your head back to place a sloppy kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth to give you a taste of yourself. “Always so sweet, darling,” He then laughs quietly at your lulling eyes, “You look so tired already, but I’ve only just started, so don’t fall asleep on me yet, sweet pea.”

“But I said nothing too much,” You groan as he strips you from your shirt and panties, tossing them aside with your shorts before slipping his trenchcoat off his shoulders to have more freedom.

“Yes, yes, I know you did— and it isn’t too much— I know you can take it cause you’re my good girl, yeah?” Dazai persuades easily, satisfied when you give him a half-hearted nod while he shifts you on his thigh to unbuckle his pants with a hand, opening it enough just to allow him enough room to pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Besides, you won’t have to do any of the work, how does that sound?” He adds, fisting a closed hand around his throbbing member a couple times to spread his pre-cum along his shaft before scooping under your knees and back to lift you up enough as to align himself between your puffy folds.

Tightening your arms around Dazai’s neck, you watch over your shoulder as his weeping tip nestles just barely into your fluttering hole, then sinking in slowly as he lowers you onto his cock. Dazai was never one to keep quiet, and he wasn’t starting anytime soon with the loud groan that falls from his lips as his head leans against the back of the couch. You can barely keep your own moan in, clutching a fistful of his hair at the nape of his neck while being lowered down until Dazai buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” He drawls out, moving to press his forehead against yours, a tender kiss placed to the corner of your mouth. “Can’t believe s’been a month since I’ve had you like this,” Dazai pants, keeping you curled up in his arms leaning against his chest as he tries to control himself from coming right then and there. “Missed you so much, didn’t mean to be so mean. Was just stressed, y’know?” He rambles on as his hips draw down before snapping back up into you again, a squeal tumbling from your throat as he sets a steady pace. And just as he promised, you didn’t have to lift a finger, holding onto him as he drills into your tight warmth with fervor, lips beginning to messily press against your face in search of your lips.

You would laugh at how near-pathetic he was with how desperate he was when it came to kissing you if he wasn’t balls deep in you and angling his hips to curve his thrusts deeper into your cunt, pushing you closer to a second orgasm. Instead, you meet his lips in a kiss, intense from the longing of nearly a month apart and no time to dwell on it before now when you’re finally close like this. It’s filled with teeth and tongue, his nose and forehead bumping against yours with every thrust. He huffs heavily into your mouth between kisses, refusing to pull away for even a second as his arms wrap around you tighter to hold you as still as possible as he snaps his hips against your ass, the bottoms of your thighs and ass jiggling when his hips kiss against your skin. “Please, please ‘Samu, I’m gonna come— wan’ it so bad,” You muffle between his heated kisses, hands curling and tugging at his dark hair.

“I know, baby,” His voice cracks, hips faltering momentarily as he finds stable enough footing to quicken his thrusts. His blunt nails dig into your skin as he can’t hold back from coming first with a loud whine, hips giving a few more rough thrusts as his cum spurts out to fill you until it’s spilling out and down his twitching shaft and balls.

Feeling him come undone, you’re close behind him as you squeeze and pulse around him, your own cum mixing with his. You’re too tired to speak, groaning weakly instead all the while falling limp against Dazai. Dinner and the flowers are long forgotten at this point, a distant thought in your mind.

Dazai tiredly chuckles, kissing you a few more times before relaxing back into the couch and settling you back down on his lap to keep you stuffed with his cum. “All tuckered out, hm? You’re cute.” He lets you rest your head under his chin, fingers gently caressing the skin of your arm in a soothing motion as he gathers his bearings. “We can worry about dinner later,” He pauses when you grunt at him, displeased by his words. “Don’t be like that, sweet heart. I promise I’ll eat as much as you want me to, just let me hold you right now, okay?” He whispers, placing a final kiss to the side of your head.

Dazai had an impressively ridiculous amount of ways to piss you off, but he always found a way to make you forget about it by the end of the next day.

[cherrysoojins]

८ bewitched , ateez laufey songs .

✉️. one of eight, choi jongho. valentine.

jongho sucked at expressing his emotions and refused to allow himself to fall in love because of that. but on valentine’s day with you, that all changes

&ㅤㅤ ��� ♡ warnings. sfw, fluff, suited for all ages, not proofread ( might have spelling errors ), let me know if any other warnings that should be added !

choi jongho was not the best at expressing himself. he was even worse at getting his feelings in order and saying them out loud.

for years, choi jongho has rejected affection. not because he didn’t want to experience the meaning of love and such, but because he genuinely sucked at showing his emotions and was scared that would prevent him from getting involved with anyone romantically. in his mind it’s just like, who would want a boyfriend who can’t properly say “i love you” or hug and kiss you spontaneously like other normal boyfriends do?

so instead of him getting rejected by others for his lack of expression, he chose to reject himself of receiving it and he had been simply content with the choice. neither happy nor upset at the choice, just meh– like he didn’t really care because he didn’t. he was perfectly content being single, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to experience something.

and with his contentedness in his life, it threw him in for a loop when the pretty barista near his campus started taking an interest in him– which was you. consistently writing his name wrong on the cups of coffees he orders just to see a small smile take over his face when he sees the flirty message you write on it, taking his order and then leaning over the counter in an overly flirty manner to talk to him while another coworker makes his coffee via your demand because you wanted to have a small conversation with him before another customer came in and made him move away from you.

when you started hitting on jongho, he started to realize how uncontent he was starting to become with being single. not just that, he started hating the thought that he wasn’t making a move on you, the pretty girl who makes all the moves because jongho simply just can’t do that for god knows what reason.

and when valentines day came, he knew he was utterly screwed. unable to bring himself to buy you flowers or chocolates to give you when he went to go visit the coffee shop you work at, he was so mad at himself. why was being so affectionate so hard for him? why can’t he display his emotions like a normal person? why did it feel like everything was so against him in some ways?

“hi,” your sweet voice rang out the second he entered the coffee shop with a little ding from the bell announcing his entrance. jongho looked up from his phone, a small smile etching onto his face that was hardly noticeable.

“hey.” he responded casually, looking around the surprisingly empty cafe as jongho approached the counter that you leaned on with a cheeky smile on your cheeks as you looked at him.

“happy valentines day.” you told him, lifting a hand up to tap his order onto the register.

jongho suddenly felt mad at himself again. the second he saw you when he walked into the coffee shop, all his worries lifted and it seemed as though a weight was taken off his shoulders. but now you, unintentionally, reminded him how upset he was about himself on this specific day, all the bad thoughts flooding in again about how he was such an emotionless bastard and how he hated himself just a little bit for not being how he wants to be.

and somehow, like always, you caught up on it. even if jongho looked as stoic as he always did, you could read him like and open book, just like you could to everyone else. it slowly became something he admired about you. it was one of the things he fell in love with.

“your coffee is on the house. that’s my first gift,” you said, moving to the side as he broke from his thoughts and stared at you, eyes widening.

“no, i can pay. i don’t want you to get in trouble–”

“i’ll be fine.” shutting him down, you squatted behind the counter, grabbing a big red bag that had ‘valentine’ on it, pushing it towards him on the counter with a big smile on your lips, a light blush taking over your cheeks before you turned to start working on his coffee.

jongho looked at the bag, his body slightly frozen in shock.

this was the first time he ever got a valentine’s day gift.

“what–” he started.

“that’s my second gift to you.” you cut him off once again, back facing him as you busied yourself with making his usual coffee, a smile stitched onto your face as excitement blossomed through your body, a warm feeling taking over your heart. “open it.”

jongho stood silent for a moment longer, gulping before he lifted his hands to open the bag slightly. chocolates and a bouquet of flowers that the bag was big enough to hide laid inside, his eyes shooting wide open once again.

you turned around, his coffee in hand as you looked at him, putting the coffee on the counter beside the bag he was still staring into.

“do you like it?” you asked him, your hands grabbing a sharpie in a little dainty cup near the cash register, lifting his coffee up to start scribbling on it. instead of a random name, you wrote his actual name in the correct way this time, a little heart next to it. instead of a random little flirty message, you wrote your number this time.

when you put the cup back down next to him, he finally looked up at you. he looked sad, the first emotion that anyone would be able to see from a mile away. it wasn’t like his usual hidden expressions, it was as clear as day how he was feeling.

“i… didn’t get you anything…” he said lowly, looking back down at the bag and clenching the sides in his grasp, your gift only fuelling the disappointment he felt within himself.

“you don’t need to.” you immediately responded to him, causing him to shoot his head to look at you again.

“i don’t need a gift from you, jongho.” you told him, your head tilting to the side with that sweet smile on your face once again. the same smile that kept his heart fluttering in his chest when he either saw it or imagined it.

you raised the cup of coffee up, pointing your finger at your number written on it.

“all i need you to do is text this number, okay?” the meaning behind your words were simple. you didn’t need a gift from him or anything. he didn’t need to show you affection, or hug and kiss you spontaneously whenever he saw you. you didn’t need that from him.

being with him despite his lack of expression, lack of affection and conversation skills, being with him like this in the coffee shop or even through text, that’s all you need. just him, being him.

choi jongho was not the best at expressing himself. he stopped himself from falling in love or receiving it because he figured nobody would want him if he was like that.

but he blinked, and suddenly he had a valentine.

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[dasher85]

featuring our Inexpressible duo

Kamisato Ayato X Reader | you | y/n

Little happenings 3 (before Part 6)

[’To think that I desire more when I can’t even give back the equivalent amount... is just upsetting’

A note, written in Ayato’s notebook. ]

A snippet:

"Y/n?" he quickly brings his face closer to yours, concern laced his voice.

You on the other hand, swift covered your face with both hands, blocking him from seeing your face any further.

"I hope you know that I'll be always here for you, y/n"

"Why do you have to say that?" your voice muffled as you talked behind your hand.

You tried so hard to surpass your emotions inside but this man literally just said a few words and now your tears are starting to fall out.

"Just tell me, y/n... Please tell me what is troubling you?"

At that moment, you couldn't speak anymore. Your hand was already wet with tears. You were unable to control it, the overwhelming emotions has taken over your rational mind.

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

The sun has long risen and yet you're still under the cover. Not awake but not completely asleep either. Perhaps you've long lost anticipation towards the day even before it started.

After an hour later you huffed a sigh, before finally sitting up, flipping the cover to the side. It was such an exaggerated action, unlike how you would usually wake up with a calmer manner. However, today just felt a bit different, you felt like expressing things more freely.

You get yourself prepared for the day, tie the curtains, sweep the floor, reorganize the books and check the food supplies. These were one of the routines you'd usually do apart from writing.

"So bored... I want to eat something delicious" you complained with what ingredients you have left in your kitchen. Truthfully you could cook for 3 more weeks of food but you're just being overly picky.

A basket in hand, and your purse, you swiftly walked to the main door. However, opening the door only to be greeted by a person.

His fist was just about to knock on the door with a nonchalant expression. You reflexively tilt your head up but then finally recognized that it was just him. Let's just say it’s your regular visitor.

He smiled and you casually looked away.

"Rest or estate? I'm out" Only a few words escaped your mouth. You didn't even bother to explain in full sentence.

"Accompany you"

The only reply from you was a slight nod as you step out and locked the door.

He on the other hand didn't question much, only observing you from behind. Trying to prove if he'd only been imagining the slight difference in your behavior. Usually, you'd make a lot of excuses before agreeing to anything that he’d say.

"Ayato"

"What's the matter?" He quickly took a few steps to catch up with you, taking your left side. You rarely called out his name, that somehow made him feel alarmed.

"Since you're a pure Inazuman descendant, suggest me a delicious delicacy"

"Nigirizushi, yakisoba,..." he tries to name some food that came in mind. Although it was quite a casual question, he can't help but put serious thought into it.

"How about the easiest one to prepare? I want to buy the ingredients." 

"Well, that... I'm not too familiar with it"

"Failure"

You walked into the local store, leaving him standing in disbelief. However, it seems he was fast to recover as he still managed to join you.

"Alright, I'll tell you a recipe I know"

"What's that?" You raised a brow, unconvinced.

He confidently flashed a grin and showed you all the ingredients needed. You both walked along the racks of items.

"Aren't these just for miso soup?"

He nods, "How about I cook it for you? Have a taste of my special dish” 

You casually nodded and continue walking towards the shopkeeper. Unlike any other day, you didn't complain and approvingly accepted his suggestion. It was such a simple matter but he who constantly need to give decent reasoning to you was filled with much joy in his heart. 

"That's all 8000 mora" 

"That's 1000 mora more expensive than the actual price" you exclaimed. You've already calculated everything earlier. Your calculation was not bad, it's almost impossible to get it wrong. 

"Maybe you calculated it wrong" the shopkeeper informed you with a frown, unsatisfied with your reaction.

You sighed, too lazy to start an argument with the shopkeeper. It wasn't your fault to state out facts to begin with.

"As a servant, you should do your job properly" the shopkeeper rudely added to your face.

For a slight moment you only stare at the shopkeeper, shocked, and yet you still manage to think of the many remarks that swirls inside your head. But in the end, you just casually pulled Ayato's sleeve before he can say a word. 

"Never mind" you told him and walked back to the racks section as you returned all the items back to their original place. Perhaps still having the rational side in your mind. 

"This isn't the place I always bought my groceries, so I thought it would be nice to try out new shops once in a while." You calmly explained.

While you were still placing the few last items, Ayato finally returned his gaze back to you. 

"I'm sorry about that y/n" he apologized. Although you knew it wasn't his fault in any way, but the reason behind the shopkeeper's initial rudeness was still because he was the Commissioner.

"Do I look like a servant and have no mora?" You placed the last item that was on the lower side of the rack and finally stood up facing Ayato.

"Of course, I don't think servants are bad at their job, they're quite excellent at what they do-" you quickly add before started walking to exit the shop.

"Don't worry about it, you're not. It's just that some people just like to mindlessly assume things. It's in their nature." He quickly cuts through your words and placed an arm around your shoulder, casually bringing you along with him.

Your thoughts were actually still filled with much anger but because he was there, it's better to just take it easy. Since Ayato has dragged you along with him, it didn't give you a chance to take a last glance to the shopkeeper. A glance of warning of course...

However, it didn't occur to you that the shopkeeper was already trembling in fear while standing behind the counter. Perhaps someone's threatening glare has already spooked him to the bone before you could do it yourself.

You both walked towards the shop on the other side of the area. Some passers-by would occasionally glance at you or perhaps the person beside you but this time it didn't bother you the slightest.

"Hopefully this shop owner wouldn't ask more mora from you" your lips slightly curved, somehow feeling a bit better after the incident.

It was noticeable that the shopkeeper was just trying to extort mora from Ayato, as he assumed you were just one of his servants. It would be impossible for you to complain about the price as a servant because Ayato was the person who's going to pay it anyways. However, it wasn't much like that in your case.

"Perhaps I should just announce things clearly, wouldn't that be convenient?" He looked to the side towards you.

If the shopkeeper knew of your so called more than friends relationship with Ayato, perhaps it wouldn't turned out that way.

"Alright" you unexpectedly agreed, a wider smile spread across your face.

"But just to this shopkeeper" you added, specifically telling him not to do more than that. He chuckled knowingly with a nod.

You both entered the shop, the shop was also selling fresh groceries.

"Miss Y/n" the middle-aged woman greets you with a genuine smile. She seems to recognize you from being a regular.

"Good morning" you greeted back.

Her eye sight wasn't really good so it took her awhile to notice that someone was standing behind you.

"Young man, are you sure you're buying at the right place?" the shopkeeper squinted her eyes, seemingly acknowledging the expensive outfit he was wearing but didn't recognize who he was... Perhaps a little skeptical of his overall appearance and identity.

Calmly and slowly, you tried to walk away to escape from the scene and continue with buying the groceries.

He swiftly took a hold of your hand preventing you from escaping, clearing his throat before pulling you closer to his side.

"Greetings, I'm Ayato. I'm accompanying my sweetheart here" he looked at you, seemingly thinking if he said it right.

The middle-aged woman smiled, perhaps feeling rather happy to see such awkwardness but also filled with sincerity emitting between this couple standing before her. Eventually the woman nodded and gestures you both to enjoy buying groceries.

As you both were in the rack sections, you finally start talking. 

"It's good to know that she's on my side" you smiled, while taking some items you've taken before, still remembering the items he has previously showed you.

"I don't think you're going to get any price offer because of this" he chuckles, also helping you out to take the items you haven't take.

He knew you actually want to get price offer if the shopkeeper knew of your relationship with a commissioner. However, this time not only she didn't know him but she also appears to dislike the identity he could've have. 

"No matter, I'll gladly add more mora for her" you exclaimed.

You took a few more items and so did he. "Have you got it all?" He suddenly asked you while looking at the items on your arms.

You nodded, "Got it all"

After the customer before you exited the shop, you both placed down the items on the counter.

"That'll be 5000 mora" surprisingly it was less expensive than the previous shop.

You nodded and paid the items.

Before she took the mora, she actually glanced at Ayato who was silently standing behind you. Only after both of you exited the shop, did he finally spoke.

"You should definitely buy groceries here, she likes you a lot"

"Did you get the 'why didn't you pay up for her young man?' look?" you knowingly guessed the situation he was in.

He chuckled, "You know too much"

You laughed and casually hands him the grocery bag as you walked towards the stall that was displaying fresh flowers. 

"I'd like to buy a bouquet of the Dendrobium flowers" you prepared the amount of mora that was written on the price board.

"Here you go" the owner hands you the neatly arranged bouquet of flowers as you exchanged the mora with the shopkeeper.

The bouquet of flower was in between your left arm, then you casually reached a hand towards the grocery bag that was already carried by Ayato.

"I'll help you" he insisted on carrying the grocery bag instead of giving it back to you.

You stared back at him, literally thinking of an excuse to not trouble him with that but ended up letting him anyways.

The walk back to your residence was not that eventful. The quick strides you took even made Ayato having second thoughts. He thought, perhaps he should've just let you carry the groceries... or maybe you were just eager to get back home? Either way he didn't know for sure.

"What's the matter y/n?" He finally questions you. 

"The food needs to be done before this afternoon. I don't want to eat at home" you finally revealed your plans upon being asked. It wasn’t even late in the morning yet but you were still rushing through the path. 

"Where do you want to eat?" He slightly paused from his tracks.

"The place where I wrote volume 4, I want a nice seashore breeze. You don't have to-" 

"I'm coming with you" he already has guessed what you'll say next.

You looked at him to the side, "I don't want to cause you any trouble, especially with your work schedule. I'll just pack a separate bento for you"

"Y/n you-"

"Alright, just come with me if you want" just seeing his face expression, you gave up. Although it's still possible to reason with him, you just didn't want too anymore, at least not today.

Shortly after, you were back at your resident with your self-proclaimed chef. "Do whatever you want, just don't burn my kitchen".

"Why do I feel like I'm under immense pressure?" he chuckles, directly informing you about his troubles.

"Indeed, you are" you didn't even try to make him feel any better while continuing to arrange the ingredients on the table out from the bag.

"Well then, I'd better impress my sweetheart" he swiftly placed his coat over your shoulder before taking off his gloves and taking an ingredient from the table.

"Sure..." you then proceed to hand him a few kitchen utensils, ignoring the sleeves from his coat to dangle on the floor. Not that your kitchen floor was anywhere near dusty, so it wasn't a problem.

"Ayato-" you haven't finished your words and he has already replied with a question.

"What's the matter y/n?" He almost dropped the plate he was holding, seemingly startled yet again.

"I should probably cook some side dishes" 

He only nodded with a smile, seemingly liking the idea of cooking with you.

"Your coat, where do you want me to put it instead?" You could've just put it somewhere else without asking him but perhaps it does feel like a responsibility given to you. It is the commissioner's coat after all, you didn't want to cause any trouble for yourself.  

He blinked at you, seemingly trying to figure out the reason behind your question. It was just a fabric and not anything that of importance to him.

"It won't easily get wrinkles, just place it anywhere convenient"

He quickly spun around, facing the side counter, acting busy with cutting the vegetables. Unbeknown to you, a small smile spread across his lips, as he tries to surpass the thoughts he has been thinking about. 

"I'm not used to sharing my kitchen with anyone, especially when cooking. So-" you returned shortly, as he snapped back from his thoughts.

"Right, I won't talk" Ayato obviously knew of this typical attitude of yours. Although you never exactly explain why, he has already guessed it.

The cooking session went on for an hour or two but it all went well. You have already finished yours way earlier than Ayato, so you continued to pack your dishes inside a handmade woven basket.

"Y/n" he was holding out a spoonful of warm soup to you, seemingly excited for you to try it, blowing it before gesturing you to taste it. 

"That's too salty for me" you quickly gulped down a glass of water to remove the saltiness in your mouth. You slightly frown, feeling worried about what has he been doing with the Miso soup.

"Sorry". His eagerness was now changed into a frown, seemingly troubled by his own skills.

"It's alright, you just need to add a few glasses of water." you tried to encourage him, as you helped him to pour an amount of water into the mixture. Although even you didn’t know if the mixture was savable. 

"I do feel helpless whenever I'm with you" he suddenly admits, sighing.

"Really? I thought your confidence know no limits" you laughed and he only smiled while stirring the mixture of soup.

You have no idea how difficult it was for him to maintain the position he was in right now. Ayato who almost never practiced the art of cooking, has to muster up with whatever knowledge he has in that particular dish. He has no knowledge if it's going to taste good and yet making it perfect was the only choice he holds in mind. Other than that, was indeed the word of 'failure'. That one word that has been repeating inside his head.

Anyone could tell him that similar word and he knew he could easily prove them wrong... However, this time it was you. He knew he has to prove it too but... it seems like he wasn't able to.

"There's no need to feel disheartened. You'll get better with much practice" you noticed the change of emotions in his face as his smile slowly disappear. 

"At least I know my sweetheart won’t leave me for this matter" he suddenly beamed a smile. You helplessly sighed but add no further reply, knowing that you knew he was feeling much better. Although you’re not agreeing but also not denying to him of that regard.

After a few minutes of preparing and filling the basket with whatever necessary items aside from the food, you were prepared to head out. The basket was placed beside vase. It was usually empty but now it's filled with the bouquet of Dendrobium flowers.

"Do you often change the flowers?" Ayato asked before picking up the basket.

"Not really, I just think it looks beautiful" you replied while handing the coat back to its owner.

However, he acts like he didn't see it and continued to head towards the front door. Your mouth opened to call out to him but you end up neatly carrying his coat along, draping it on your left arm.

"Ayato, your coat" once you were outside, you couldn't help but give the coat back to him. 

"Just carry it for a while" he casually leads the path, seemingly purposefully refusing to take it.

Although you did notice the subtle difference in his demeanor you decided to just agree with him. It wasn't too much of a task to carry the Commissioner's coat after all.

'It'll be easy, I just need to be careful with handling this' you thought. Due to its white color, you couldn't help but stress over the idea of getting even slight dust on it. 

Truthfully the owner never actually cared if his coat was just to be taken lightly by you, he didn't mind even if you'd just wear it while the sleeves drag on the dusty path. The moment he has placed it over your shoulder, it was already decided that it was at your disposal.

Nonetheless, it wasn't possible for him to expose of such matter. He has long known of your true nature. Rather than telling you that, he'd prefer you to at least keep it a while longer. After all, chances don’t come knocking twice.

A few minutes of walking, you both arrived to the area. Nothing has changed, the scenery was still the same, the wind was calm as it always was and perhaps only the tree changed in color due to the change in season.

You breath in the fresh air, feeling relieved and nostalgic. 

"I do wonder how did you end up walking to this place?" You question him while looking up to the Sakura tree, placing your right palm on its rough trunk. It wasn't blossom season, so there wasn't anything spectacular of a view.

He placed down the basket, joining you along. "Hmmm..." He seems to drag the expression way too long as if debating on answering your question.

You looked at him, calmly waiting if he'd actually spoke of an answer.

"That's a secret" His gaze slowly averts towards you, as a confident grin spread across his face.

"You're up to no good since the beginning, aren't you?"

"That's a harsh accusation" he acts hurt.

You laughed at how ridiculous the conversation has become when you've initially only asked him a decent question.

"Never mind, let's eat lunch first" you swiftly approach him closer, standing, facing him. He quietly stared back at you, seemingly stuck on his feet. His previous act has disappeared. 

'Do I look angry or am I just??' you questioned your own appearance upon seeing his uncommon reaction. It was subtle but you did notice that he was beyond calm. His emotions were out of place and yet managed to perfectly kept hidden.

Eventually, you didn't think much about it and took a hold of his hand as you draped the coat back to him. Let's just say you just forcefully returned the coat back to his owner.

Not that you dislike it but you didn't think it was convenient to work with the plates and food while carrying the coat along.

"Ayato-" you haven't finished the question and he has already returned a reply.

"What's wrong?" 

"Aren't you going to eat? Why are you just standing there?" You have already finished taking out and serve the food into the smaller bowl and plates on the woven mat and yet he’s still standing there.

He shook his head, finally joining you, taking a plate in hand.

"What are you thinking? Work? You're free to go right now, if-" you directly informed him of your thoughts.

"No, it's not that..." He paused, seemingly unable to directly say it to you.

"Right" you didn't bother to pry any further and continued eating the food. Perhaps enjoying the food was better than staying curious about his unknown thoughts.

Minutes after, you both finally arranged the used plates and bowls back into the basket. Nothing was left uneaten, and only the mat was left unfold. You both was still using it so it wasn't the time to fold it yet.

The warm sea breeze would occasionally blow one's hair. The distant blue ocean view displayed over the horizon. You still enjoyed the view as if it's the first day you've arrived to this place. However, even you still couldn't admit that not only you've found this place close to your heart because you've written a whole volume of story here but also because of your unprecedented encounter with him.

"I wonder if-" his sentence was stopped midway when you suddenly rest your head on his lap. You were on your side, facing the ocean view. He could only see your side profile. Although he often does this to you, he was beyond stupefied himself.

"Wonder about what?" You nonchalantly asked him to finish his previous sentence. 

"Wonder if since back then you never actually have interest in me?" he knew that question wasn't even necessary when you're literally in an unguarded position with him.

"Your question is more terrible than the one I've asked you before" you laughed reminding him of the question that he didn't want to answer.

"I know" he chuckles.

His faith in his own choices has always been definite. Even when he is unable to convince certain parties to agree with his suggestions during formal meetings, in the end of the day, he'd still managed to flawlessly force them to willingly step into the matter.

However, when it comes to this, he wasn't able to properly utilize the same tactics against this certain someone. Even if he wanted to, it could only bring consequences that he couldn't fix.

The only solution he has prepared for his dire soul that was becoming eager for more is just to quietly devour all of these small gestures. Perhaps staying like this a little while longer was the best option.

"Ayato..." You paused, seemingly debating if you should ask about it.

"Hmm?" a soft smile spread across his face. Listening to your calm voice instantly revert his heart, dragging him back to his usual calm self, not anymore troubled by his questionable desires.

How can one be a trigger but also a remedy? Perhaps this question alone was something he could never reveal to you. 

"I know Hydro vision user can manipulate water, would it be doable to see blue cherry blossoms?"

He didn't instantly reply back but if you were to see his face at that moment, you'd probably take back that request. That confident grin was now plastered on his face. Since he wasn't satisfied with his own performance when it comes to cooking, this was perhaps his chance to finally impress you.

"How is it?" without much effort, the area was now decorated with falling blue cherry blossom.

"Admirable" you smiled, as you reached out a fallen petal. The moment it lands on your hand, the cherry blossom form stays in shape for a few seconds before it dissipated.

"This reminds me of snowflakes" you randomly spoke of a distant memory. 

"Do you want so see snowflakes?" he suggested before swiftly covering your body with his coat, keeping you warm.

You only slightly shook your head to the side, disagreeing to the suggestion.

He seems to sigh knowingly, "I still lack the reasons behind it, but it is impossible for you to conceal that troubled heart from me." He gently strokes your hair.

Even you didn't want to admit of this sadness that was lingering inside your heart. You've been trying to escape from it the whole day by doing the things that you wouldn't usually do.

"How so?"

"There were many things, but the obvious one was when you ate the Miso soup I cooked. Even I hated how it taste, but since you finished your portion without complain, how could I not do the same"

"Can't I be nice once in a while?" 

"Correct, you would usually won't let things go that easily. You're missing that bright spark"

"Oh... right" you didn't want to agree with him but it seems like it was pointless to even reason out about the matter either.

That nonchalant reply from you, has only made him worried. He knew you didn't want to talk about it any further but this type of concern can't be forced either.

"Usually when I'm unable to take out the emotions, I practice with my katana" he suddenly adds after a long silent, perhaps suggesting you yet again to find your own way to get out from that state of emotion.

"That's interesting, the last time I practiced with my sword was days before I lost my vision"

"I'm sorry to bring that up" he quickly apologized thinking he's not making things any better. Reminding you of your previous troubles was the last thing he wants.

"It's alright, that was years ago. Losing a vision is nothing compared to seeing people lost their lives" you solemnly spoke of your past experiences.

He quietly strokes your hair, viewing your side profile while intently listening. You seldom talk about yourself but he also knew that your past doesn't make any difference to the person you are now.

"The past does not trouble me anymore, truthfully I just want to receive a letter from my homeland today but-" your voice progressingly quiets down.

 "Forget it" your voice almost unnoticeably shaking. However, Ayato effortlessly noticed such changes.

"Y/n?" he quickly brings his face closer to yours, concern laced his voice.

You on the other hand, swift covered your face with both hands, blocking him from seeing your face any further.

"I hope you know that I'll be always here for you, y/n"

"Why do you have to say that?" your voice muffled as you talked behind your hand.

You tried so hard to surpass your emotions inside but this man literally just said a few words and now your tears are starting to fall out. 

"Just tell me, y/n... Please tell me what is troubling you?"

At that moment, you couldn't speak anymore. Your hand was already wet with tears. You were unable to control it, the overwhelming emotions has taken over your rational mind.

He effortlessly carried half of your body, his left arm surrounding your shoulder as his right arm spun you to face him. He then gently wraps you in his arms, keeping you closer to his heart.

"You will always have me"

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

A/N: The highlighted songs I listened to while writing this; 

Fever - Enhypen | Down - Jay Sean | Black and white - San Holo

[shihalyfie]

The paradox of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari

The issue of the relationship between Takeru and Hikari has been a question of interest since the series first aired, and especially after 02, which prominently depicted them constantly hanging out together and clearly having some kind of relation to each other...and yet, strangely, very rarely having a real heart-to-heart or even talking to each other much at all. The constant juxtapositions of them standing next to each other all of the time in both the series and in external media, combined with the fact they’re so associated with each other in terms of being Adventure returnees and with Digimon partners with similar evolutions, makes one almost mentally geared to associate them with each other, and yet we never really get to hear what they think about each other in the entirety of Adventure or 02′s running.

Part of this is because Takeru and Hikari are the two most “difficult to read” characters in the 02 team -- Hikari because she compulsively suppresses any selfish or negative feeling she has, and Takeru because he covers up his problems with a smile and pretends everything is okay, until it’s not. And, as it turns out, that “gap in communication” exists between the two of them as well; in the web of 02′s relationships, it’s a strange mix between being “comfortable around” each other, and yet not truly knowing each other...

Disclaimer before we continue: With some exceptions related to unambiguous canon depictions, I try to write my meta about relationships between characters in such a way that both shipping readings and non-shipping readings are possible in most cases, and my main reason for this is that I very strongly believe that even if you do ship the pair in question, it’s rather reductive (and not very fun) to stop an analysis at “anyway it’s because they’re in love” or something and not go any further. If you don’t care for Takeru/Hikari as a ship, I hope you can take this analysis as-is, and if you do happen to ship it, I hope you can take my analysis of the gaps in their relationship as “things they would have to consider and overcome for such a relationship to be possible” (i.e. a possible fanfic prompt?) and not me trying to dismiss the ship as inherently possible or impossible.

A second disclaimer: A lot of the important key points below are heavily dependent on how they were presented in the Japanese version of 02, especially in regards to the key 02 episode 13. The American English dub took a very large number of liberties with a lot of the below aspects, so if you are reading this with only that version as a reference, please be aware that there may be significant differences for the sake of avoiding confusion.

Hikari didn’t get to spend much of the series with the rest of the Adventure group, having been a “latecomer”, but once she enters, it’s rather interesting how much Takeru doesn’t socialize much with her. Granted, part of this was because of the circumstances -- there was a lot to be done, and Hikari had a cold relapse not long after they’d entered the Digital World -- but you’d really think Takeru would be interested in at least socializing with someone who’s actually his age, and yet we don’t get any real depiction of doing so outside of discussing important matters. It’s not to say that they never had any kind of conversation offscreen, but by the time we get to the end of Adventure, we have zero scope of what they actually think of each other.

By the time we get to 02, it turns out that this is probably by design.

First of all, we very quickly learn that the two of them did not keep up between Adventure and 02 -- they’re meeting each other again for the first time in a long time, and the last time they did meet was when they were much younger (probably their last meeting being the one depicted in the flashback in 02 episode 27). This is understandable considering that, up until the beginning of 02, Takeru lived in Sangenjaya and not Odaiba, meaning that it wasn’t like they’d have opportunities to meet up much in real life either, but the point is that this is how little contact and how little involvement they’d had in each other’s lives up until this point.

So, once the plot of 02 kicks off and the two of them become active as Chosen Children again, the two of them end up hanging out a lot. So much that Daisuke starts accusing them of having something between them. And the two of them never say anything to really firmly deny him, which of course only makes him more confused and upset, until 02 episode 17, when the concrete connection between them is established to the rest of the 02 team, and it’s properly disclosed that they were part of a whole adventure back in 1999 together.

Takeru knew Hikari before, and she’s still the one he knows the best out of this team, and on Hikari’s part, Takeru understands the nature of “being a Chosen Child” in ways the others don’t, and both of them had that formative experience that the others don’t understand. But 02 is a series that’s not only about relationships, but also about the differing nature of relationships -- it’s true that, having known each other well beforehand and also being all-around decent people, the two of them would certainly have an extra level of investment in each other’s welfare, but...

In 02 episode 13, we learn that as much as Takeru knows Hikari, he doesn’t really know her, and on Hikari’s part, she’s still incapable of communicating the extent of her thoughts so that he can.

The conversation between Takeru and Hikari behind the school in this episode is the first time we get to really see an opportunity for the two of them to bare their actual emotions, but nothing that can be called a "conversation" is had between them. Hikari is still plagued by a compulsive desire to not be a burden to others, including the idea of “burdening” her brother, and, when Takeru finally prompts her on what’s going on, she says nothing that properly clarifies what she’s going through, nothing but a cryptic mention of the “sea”, a statement that she "might be going away”, and a reference to her brother having always protected her beforehand. Takeru takes it as a sign that Hikari’s become overly dependent on Taichi, and snaps at her angrily -- a persistent symptom of him being unable to regulate his emotions properly -- and, unable to handle it, runs off awkwardly, leaving her alone to eventually be taken away. Later in the episode, Takeru reflects that he’d basically just doomed Hikari by his own actions, and with his last words to her having been something awful.

Ultimately, some degree of progress is made in that Hikari realizes that Takeru reaching out to her earlier makes him someone she should be reaching out to for help -- in the end, nobody in the 02 group had yet been able to reach out to her emotionally because of how closed-in she was, and the only people she truly trusted with her feelings up until that point were Taichi and Tailmon. So in other words, Takeru is another person she can finally “trust” with her feelings and welfare. But while Takeru is finally able to connect to her in some sense with this, when the two finally close off the episode and return to the real world, everything ends in complete silence. They do not say a single word to each other. They’re getting by with a sense of “inherent trust”, and their disconnect was resolved with that alone this time, but this problem hasn’t been fully solved yet and will be rearing its ugly head again by the time we get around to the Jogress arcs.

And so the two of them return back to their “comfortable with each other” status quo -- but, again, 02 is a series that portrays relationships in a very multi-layered and multifaceted form, and being comfortable around someone still doesn’t necessarily merit emotional closeness (for instance, Ken was pretty clearly indicated as being “comfortable” and straightforward in terms of working with Miyako in 02 episodes 25 and 33, but there’s no doubt that Daisuke’s the one who was more properly addressing the things he emotionally needed most at the time, which could arguably be said to be exactly why Ken was having a hard time adjusting to him at first). We see them “go off together” to do...completely mundane and practical things, like discussing why they’re still able to come to the Digital World in 02 episode 22, or trying to have their Digimon partners evolve on their own in 02 episode 24 -- they’re not having any kind of emotional heart-to-heart, they’re just there.

When you look at the wider picture, you can see that Hikari and Takeru’s relative comfort around each other at this point is largely because they’re still not comfortable being alone with anyone else yet. So far, they kind of had a bonding (not really bonding) session back in 02 episode 13, and they hadn’t had anything of the sort with anyone else, and they’re still the only people who understand certain things relevant to the adventure in 1999 that the others don’t. They’re both still ridiculously closed-in and guarded, and not trusting anyone with their feelings -- they can’t even trust each other with their feelings -- so they’re getting by on hanging out with each other because it’s either that or go off to be completely alone. As the two most “emotionally isolated” people in this group, there’s a wall between them and the others, and that wall is only slightly thinner between each other -- and you can even imagine that they’re willing to hang out with each other because they won’t be bothering that wall and causing intimidation.

And by the time we roll around to 02 episode 31, we learn that, this whole time, nothing has improved. Takeru sees that something is going on with Hikari, but does and says nothing -- perhaps because he’s not sure what to say, perhaps because he’s afraid of lashing out at her again, whatever it is -- but he can’t and won’t speak to her nor address her feelings.

In the end, the person who does establish that ability to “communicate” with Hikari is not Takeru but Miyako -- an aggressive, in-your-face, overly honest person who gets straight to the point and refuses to hold back, whose messy personality causes Hikari to become assertive in handling her and allows Hikari to finally vocalize one of her truly sensitive feelings, and who’s able to use her immense emotional sensitivity to identify what Hikari needs and break through to her.

But just because Miyako ended up being the person Hikari needs to move on past this issue does not mean Takeru’s role wasn’t important, nor that Miyako coming into Hikari’s life means that all of her relationships are inferior or pointless -- rather, a recurring element of 02′s portrayal of relationships is that everything has a ripple effect, and that “opening up” one person’s heart allows them to open up to others as well (see how Daisuke reaching out to Ken eventually helped him reach out to the others in the group, how even in this very same episode Miyako expresses that this experience helped her understand Ken better as well, how Daisuke’s experiences end up giving him a healthier relationship with the rest of the group, how Iori and Takeru’s Jogress ordeal helps them both become better at reaching out to Ken...). Unlike how they’d both closed off 02 episode 13, Hikari and Takeru end this one by talking -- with Hikari’s newfound confidence from her dealings with Miyako allowing her to more openly speak what she’s thinking with Takeru.

One thing you might notice is that after 02 episode 31, Takeru and Hikari are never seen going off on their own together for the rest of the series -- because, again, their “latching” onto hanging out with each other at the exclusion of anyone else was because they were that isolated from everyone else, but not anymore! Hikari starts to hang out more with Miyako as the two of them become more comfortable hanging out after the events of said episode; after all, Miyako had come to understand the real reason why Hikari “keeps so much inside” and that she needs to actively reach out to her, and Hikari is able to properly trust Miyako with her feelings, meaning that now that Hikari is starting to open up, she doesn’t need to fall back on her “truce” with Takeru to get by. Which ends up leaving Takeru rather alone for the following set of episodes. Well, seemingly alone, but...

...he’s not truly alone, because this is also where Iori realizes that there’s a lot more going on with Takeru and that he needs to make a proactive effort to understand him, and it doesn’t take long for Takeru to realize what Iori’s doing (especially when Yamato tips him off that Iori asked about him in 02 episode 35). Once again, very much unlike Hikari, Iori is straightforward and to-the-point, and is much better at cutting through all of the complicated layers Takeru puts up in an attempt to cover up his emotions.

The rest of the series has them in significantly more emotionally tense situations than before, and while the fact they end up spending the rest of the series with their respective Jogress partners instead of each other is partially sheer pragmatics, it’s also how the two of them start taking a more active role in actually checking on the others’ emotions and communicating with them in regards to their feelings. This is a huge deal -- compare this to back in 02 episode 13 when they were practically the only people willing to have this kind of serious, emotional conversation with each other -- and said attempt at a serious conversation exploded in their faces. (The other time one of them had made an attempt at something vaguely resembling a heart-to-heart during that time was 02 episode 11, which also resulted in Takeru blowing up explosively.) But here they’re capable of communicating clearly and openly and making their positions known in a way that gets through to their respective Jogress partners’ issues, without being stifled by anything.

But, again: just because they don’t “go off together” anymore doesn’t mean they stopped being important people to each other or comfortable around each other -- it’s just that now they’ve stopped wandering off together for the sake of blocking themselves away from others, and no longer trapped in this strange, paradoxical relationship of knowing-but-not-truly-knowing each other they had all the way back in 02 episode 13. The relationship they had back then was something built off of coping mechanisms, and not something you could truly say was healthy, not when their communication was stilted and Takeru had snapped at her so badly -- but both of them learning to open up more and be more honest with their feelings means that they may well have an actual healthy dynamic going forward.

And for all it’s worth, we learn that they’re still on very good terms by the time of Kizuna, getting breakfast together in the opening -- but it’s left ambiguous if their reason for doing so like this was because they still have a penchant for particularly hanging out together, or whether it was just circumstance because they were free to get breakfast after the Digimon incident (they act independently for the rest of the movie). Moreover, their relationships with the others in the 02 group are still going strong, because as per the drama CD, Takeru’s happy to hang out with Daisuke like it’s nothing and actively join in to reach out to Iori (it’s said Daisuke was approaching Iori “first” despite Takeru being there, so both of them were hanging out independently and decided to pick up Iori together), and Hikari comes in with Miyako, expressing a very firm intent to hang out with her for their trip, and ultimately it’s established that them not being with the rest of the group at the time of the movie was sheer scheduling circumstance and not necessarily them going out of their way to operate away from them.

So in other words, whatever relation you can say they have at this point, or their ability to get along, is not based on them falling back on each other as an unhealthy coping mechanism of silence, but one carried out in a more genuine manner.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

So what exactly do you think about the whole vampire “mate” thing? Along with the whole idea that the vampire emotional nature is like “stone” and thus can only love romantically the once?

Mates? I don’t think they exist.

Alright, fine, a serious answer.

I think it’s not so much mates, per se, that there’s one person out there for you in the whole wide world and if you miss them you’re a soulless husk forever but a product of vampire neurology. 

It’s not so much that vampires don’t change, or at least, no less than humans do (we tend not to change without catalyst either). However, I do think that vampires are a bit more stubborn in their nature than us humans and their profound memory helps them along.

A vampire never forgets the joy of being in love, never forgets what they initially loved about their partner, and in the case of Marcus never forgets the grief of losing them. 

But I think they feel love, sorrow, anger, etc. as much as we humans do. They just have this overly romantic mythos that they themselves have bandied about for thousands of years.

What do I mean?

Well, the ‘mates’ we see are unconvincing. There’s Marcus, yes, and it’s implied that he had something truly profound with Didyme. But what about the others?

The Cullen Family alone is full of disastrous marriages that will fall apart any second now.

Bella/Edward is such a shit show of yikes involving no love whatsoever and more the lust that a lion feels when about to feast on a gazelle (that Edward also uses this analogy really says something to me). Remember that Meyer presents Bella/Edward as the best and brightest of all the mated pairs.

Edward marries and falls in love with her while she’s still human, a very rare phenomenon. He tries to leave her but finds himself physically unable to, within six months both he and Bella attempt suicide (nevermind that Bella was clinically depressed and Edward is in love with his own tragic theater and martyrdom). 

Meyer describes them of having the wonderful spiritual connection of Carlisle/Esme and the physical intamacy of Rosalie/Emmett (which of course means that Rosalie and Emmett are the only couple in this goddamn house that actually have any sexual intercourse). 

This is the love story the entire series hinges on.

And it’s like a virtual novel where you’re playing as Bella Swan, and if you made even one, small, wrong choice along the way Vampire Patrick Bateman sneaks into your room and devours you, your father, and maybe your entire graduating class.

By some miracle, Bella unwittingly travels the golden path. For her, that is, for everyone else it will end in very very bad places.

Then we have Carlisle/Esme, where they seem to be held together by wishful thinking and denial. Neither is really what the other wants, they share completely different values, their miscommunication is profound, and while I won’t get into it here I will say that I think they very likely have 0 physical intimacy for a variety of reasons.

Edward looks to Carlisle/Esme as his ideal relationship and what he wants to recreate with Bella. Which is... very Edward.

The only ones in the Cullens not a complete disaster, but still should have couple’s therapy, are Rosalie and Emmett. And here’s where I go, “alright, maybe there’s something to this mated pair thing”. Because the story of Rosalie is she finds this man torn apart by bears, after having been a victim of gang rape, carries his bleeding carcass for miles, dumps him on Carlisle’s table, and says, “MAKE ME A HUSBAND”. And it somehow works out for them. It’s the world’s weirdest pairing, in Midnight Sun we learn that Rosalie is just as weirded out as we the audience are, because her brain just tells her that this man is her husband.

So perhaps there’s some instinctual connection, but we certainly don’t see it in all vampire couples. So, if the mate thing does exist, I suspect it’s a) extremely rare b) is probably not one unique match in all the world.

That said though, even Rosalie and Emmett have issues and I’d hardly call them soulmates. They don’t really get each other, I think. Emmett certainly doesn’t understand Rosalie and I think Rosalie does find Emmett is often a boor. They love each other, certainly like each other, but they’re not two connecting puzzle pieces.

Otherwise, outside of these guys there’s... Pretty much Marcus.

Aro is gay, clearly enamored with Carlisle, and locked his wife in a tower.

Caius also locked his wife in a tower.

Eleazar left the Volturi for Carmen, but Eleazar is a dick and useless (this is for another meta). By the sounds of it Aro was jumping at an excuse to get rid of him.

Marcus, mourning for two-thousand years straight, is enough to convince me that something’s up. However, he could simply have been in love the way elves in LotR love, and they don’t have soulmates either.

Plus, mates are so cheap to me.

Every time, every time, I see it used it’s a cheap prop to do away with actually convincing us this is a convincing and moving love story.

Bella and Edward belong together because they’re soulmates.

Kylo-Ren and Rey are a dyad in the Force and therefore their love is a great one.

Tom Riddle and Harry Potter have their names written on each others arms in your fanfiction du jour and it’s very angsty because they’re soulmates with their greatest enemy and someone they don’t even like. Don’t ask how they could possibly be soulmates in this scenario, they just are, because I say so.

Every time you resort to using mates to convince your audience that your pairing is a superior love a puppy dies. 

Right, the falling in love romantically once, well look at my fics and I clearly don’t believe that. What I will say is that vampires can hold onto their memories longer than us, so if they want to reminisce over being romantically in love, they can, and falling in love with someone else might be harder for them. 

However, I don’t think there’s anything stopping them. We see many vampires with very complicated and frankly very human relationships. They play themselves for fools, yearn, and settle for people they do not truly love just as much as we humans do. 

[animeyanderelover]

Can you write promp 15 to Shuu tsukiyama :) Thank you I love your writings.

I love my writing as well😉. No, but seriously guys. If it wouldn't be for my passion to write, I would have gone on a hiatus the moment I found out that I was being shadowbanned.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, clinginess, manipulation, paranoia, mentioning of kidnapping, catcalling, sexual harassment, blood, killing, Shuu being a sadist to the victim, eccentricity (?)

Prompt 15: “Shh princess… don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

"Kanae!! What happened to her?!?! Why is she crying?!?!"

You hadn't wanted to burst out in tears like this, but replaying the scene in your head over and over again like a movie had caused you unimaginable frustration and embarrassment. Now you remembered why you hated people so much, they were all just greedy and disgusting jerks. Calling you such nasty names in public and daring to go as far as following you. If Kanae wouldn't have been there with you, you didn't even want to imagine what might have happened to you.

"My poor princess! What happened?! Tell me!"

Furious tears were falling down your face, even though you had wiped them away already countless times before. You were not in a very good mood at the moment, you felt quite etchy at the moment. And that was what caused annoyance washing over you when you heard Shuu's cooing words, taking quick steps towards you to comfort you somehow. You knew what would come now. Another smothering session of his. Something you didn't need in the least bit right now. What you needed was time. Alone.

You still tried to stay as calm as possible, not wanting to make a huge scene that would only gain you more annoying attention. All the servants were honestly so much like their master, they all appeared to be overly dramatic when it came to you, the only real exception was Mirumo.

So when you suddenly stepped back from Shuu, lips pressed together and a mixed look out of sadness and anger on your face, you knew that you had hurt him. It was all too obvious judging from his wide eyes, confusion and pain already reflecting in them, and the way he had frozen when you had suddenly put a distance between you two. The hand, which he had extended, was staying in the air, shaking slightly. As always, he was overreacting.

“(y/-y/n)…What did I-“

“You did nothing Shuu. You didn’t do anything. I just wish to be alone right now. So I ask you to do me the favor and leave me alone for once. If you don’t, I might say things to you that will hurt you and which I don’t mean. Don’t test my patience for now.”

You were surprised by your own tone of voice, you sounded extremely rude, annoyance dripping from your voice like venom. It was hard to keep a calm and collected voice under such conditions. But for the reason of you having been well raised and well treated by the people in this place, you wanted to return the favor by doing the same.

You just stormed past both, Kanae and Shuu, without saying a single word, chewing furiously on your lips whilst the voice of the man kept ringing in your head. You felt like you wanted to smash something to relieve yourself of the ocean of emotions inside of you. Today had been the wrong day to convince Shuu with the help of his father to let you out without him.

“Master (y/n)!”, you heard Kanae yelling after you, followed by a thud sound that caused you to turn around shortly, feeling slightly startled by the sudden noise. But you were left feeling a bit surprised when seeing that your company for the last few hours had gone done to her knees, forehead pressed against the floor of the mansion and bowing deeply down in front of you.

“I can never forgive myself for not being able to help you. I failed you! I’m so sorry! It’s all because of my own foolishness and incompetence that you had to go through all of this!”

Her voice was shaking and you guessed that she would break out in tears at any moment, she was just as theatrical as your partner was.

“Kanae, it’s not your fault. We were under too many people, you couldn’t have done more than you did already. And that was already a big help. Also, please don’t refer to me as your master, I don’t like it when I’m being called this way. I see you as a friend, so that makes things always a bit awkward when you call me your master.”

Only the fading and fast footsteps of yours were heard in the silence which followed afterwards, leaving two people left dwelling on what had just happened. Shuu, who was staring with still shocked eyes at the stairs where you had just walked up, and Kanae, who was still remaining in her humble position. Somewhere upstairs the rather loud slam of a door was heard, indicating that you had just entered your room.

“Kanae…What…happened?”

Even her master seemed to be left flabbergasted by this sudden change of events, although tears were already starting to fill his eyes. It was not as much because of your rejecting behavior towards him, although that had hurt as well. No, it was because someone had upset his little dove so that she had cried and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

“So eine Scheiße!”, the girl suddenly shouted furiously and frustrated, slamming her head against the floor harshly as if wanting to punish herself.

By now she had bursted out in tears, drops splashing to the ground. “What am I good for when I couldn’t even keep her safe and this-this disgrace away from her?! Now she is angry! Please forgive me Master Shuu. You chose me because you trusted me to protect her, but I was the wrong person to choose.”

The last few sentences of her were told much more softer than the previous ones, only proving to Shuu that Kanae felt beyond miserable for what had happened. But it didn’t answe his question! It only made him more anxious.

What had happened whilst he hadn’t been there?! Who the duck dared to make his lovely darling cry?! Who?!

“Would you just please tell me what happened?!”, he yelled at the servant, his string of patience snapping right then and there and leading him into raising his voice.

Kanae flinched when hearing him shouting at her, the panic in his voice overwhelming her even more. It was all because of her that her master would have to go through the same pain as you as well. How should she even start explaining what had happened without him losing it right away?

“Mast-I mean (y/n)…She has been catcalled! And I was unable to take proper care of this threat! Watching this bastard…It was disgusting! Enraging! This rotten mouth of his…The things he called after her, I wish I could have gouged his tongue out! And he even had the audacity to follow her through the city, using every opportunity he had to spit more gross words out! And (y/n) had to endure all of this without losing her self-restraint. She even had to stop me. She stood her ground without breaking down in front of him. She was so admirable. I should have taken an example on her.”

The confession of the truth hurt, having to go through it all again hurt. Her master’s darling had been so brave, so perfectly in control of her emotions, so empathetic to rather let herself get humiliated instead of risking to let Kanae get triggered and reveal that she was a ghoul in the center of the city. And (y/n) still saw her as a friend! She was so kind. No wonder Master Shuu was so madly in love with her.

After that the ghoul waited for some reaction from him, shouting, yelling, crying, lashing out on her, anything. But nothing came. Instead another silence befell both of them, coming with a creepy feeling. An almost paralyzing feeling that made the violet-haired girl stay on the ground. The air felt like it was weighting her down. She knew this feeling.

Fear.

"So you're telling me that ma chérie is crying because some walking useless trash thought that he could use her and play her for his own entertainment?"

His voice was beyond spine-chilling, spoken like a true lunatic. His voice sounded for the most part quieter than expected, though it was trembling slightly. But what made her body nearly forget to function out of terror was the icy blood lust in it, like he was on the brink of insanity.

Barely, only barely did Kanae manage to lift her head, enough to catch a glimpse of his face. It only made her break out in cold sweat more. She thanked the heaven that he wasn't looking at her right now, instead staring in the empty space, a murderous grin on his face. His eyes were wide, reflecting the craziness inside of him perfectly. Just by looking at him was enough for Kanae to know that he was tearing the culprit in his mind currently to a bloody and deforedly mess. Her master was thinking like her, she had planned on doing the same. But she hadn't looked that unnerving.

"As much as I would love to torture and rip this waste of oxygen right now, this will have to wait. My princess needs me right now."

The sudden change in his whole personality was delightening yet also the slightest bit stunning for Kanae to witness, how he went from psychopathic sadist to his normal dramatic and lovesick self.

"W-wait! C-can I do something, anything to make somehow up for my failure?", Kanae stuttered out, stopping Shuu from crossing the stairs with huge steps. She had to do something, she felt truly feeble.

Shuu noticed her still majorly guilty expression, giving her a small sympathetic smile. "Don't work yourself up to hard over it now. (y/n) was only right. You would have only done much worse if you would have let lost control then and there. You already did a better job than I did in keeping composure. For now just tell the others to prepare dinner, (y/n)'s favorite. And also..."

The sudden drop in Shuu's voice and his face was a dead giveaway what he wanted to say next. "Let's meet later outside when my darling is sleeping. I believe we have something to take care of, don't we?"

That alone was enough to make Kanae stand up, the anger and feeling of helplessness scratching her feeling of self-esteem. Her master knew that she had a score to settle as well after having only been able to watch. She felt grateful that he took that into reconsideration even though she had let this happen in the first place.

"It would be my pleasure to be from any help. I feel honored that you still chose me."

"Why are you here? I think I told you I want to be alone.", you shot out after Shuu had simply knocked and entered your room without permission, giving you nearly no time to wipe away all the tears on your cheeks. You hated crying in front of people, you hated looking weak and vulnerable and being it as well. That's why you always wanted to be alone when you felt like crying.

"You expect me to just stand away when my dove clearly needs someone right now?! You were just sexually harassed and want me to leave you alone?! Forget it!"

His reaction was what you had seen coming, the paranoia coloring his face being all too obvious and he looked distressed as well. Shuu wasn't good in handling something like this at all, not when it had you being in any sort hurt involved.

"Go away. I look terrible right now.", you just said without replying to what he had just said, though this had been a rhetorical question. You didn't look very good right now, tears smearing all over your face, your eyes reddened and puffy and your nose running due to all the crying.

"That doesn't matter to me. For me you look beatiful no matter what, even if you cry."

Despite feeling upset, you managed to let a chuckling scoff out when you heard the man saying this, still not being completely used to his more cheesy lines. But right now he probablly had the intention to cheer you up.

"Good grief, you're really too much. Let go of me.", you replied slightly ironically in between your sobs when he suddenly just clinged to you, wrapping you up in his arms. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, his hug was warm and managed to soothe you a bit.

You actually shouldn’t feel this way, not in the arms of the man who used to torment and hurt you out of pure and utter sadistic fun. Back then it had just been horror for you. And only thanks to his well-mannered father things had changed for you, only then. You owed Mirumo for that more than you could effort, but his only request had been staying, knowing the attachment his son had for you would never perish. But at the same time you had the feeling his father had helped his son as well, causing you to get along with him better and better until you had started to forget where acting stopped and where real feelings were showing.

“Shh princess…don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

He had a point. That asshole had wanted to get under your skin which was the second reason you had stayed strong in front of him. But you were human as well, you had feelings which could be hurt. You were currently hurt which was why you needed some sort of comfort right now and Shuu provided it. Maybe a bit too much.

You estimated that you needed about five minutes until you had calmed somewhat down, though the after effects from your crying session still shook your body every once in a while. But you felt the tiniest bit less shitty.

“I think I’m feeling better now. Thank you…Shuu.”, you told him softly, feeling your cheeks warming up the tiniest bit.

He just let out a content ‘hmm’, his chin resting on your shoulder and his one hand playing with your hair a bit. He didn’t look like he had any intentions to move despite you giving him the look. You had a rather silly bad feeling.

“Do you want to let me go?”

“Never. At least not until the dinner is prepared.”

“Shuu.”, you protested slightly, pushing him a bit against the chest which turned out to be good for nothing. He didn’t budge. Instead you could almost see with your inner two eyes on the back of your head that he was grinning upon your attempt to remove him.

“Oh well. I’ll let him have it his way. He deserves it.”

Kanae was walking, as quietly as possible, nervously back and forth. She would never blame her master for anything at all, but maybe she just felt extremely uneasy right now that she wanted to leave desperately. Tokyo was huge and finding one single man would be hard, though she remembered the few broken pieces of informations she had heard when the man had been taken away from some other people who seemed to know him.

“I have to avenge (y/n) or else I’ll never be able to feel like I deserve this happiness.”, the girl thought bitterly, intending to bring suffering over this piece of garbage.

“You seem rather impatient. Believe me, I am just as eager as you are, though we shouldn’t waste too much time with this sad excuse of a man.”

Kanae quickly turned around, anticipation shining from her eyes when she saw Shuu appearing from the shadows, already having put on fitting clothes and holding his mask in his hand.

“I apologize, I simply couldn’t bring myself to leaving my princess alone. She looked too gorgeous to not marvel over. That’s why I want to speed this all up, I want to return to her as fast as possible. It of course doesn’t mean I intend to let this person easily of the hook.”

He chuckled a bit, for a few moments softness dominating his face when recalling the sweet memories of his darling sleeping peacefully. But in the blink of an eye he changed, the lust to kill someone taking over him and twisting his face into something entirely else.

“Kanae, do you know where we should start?”

His voice was terrifying, his feelings and intentions dripping freely from it and a malicious glint shining in his eyes. Not like Kanae minded, her own face being overshadowed by her negative feelings.

“Yes, I do have an idea.”

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 18

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised.

Rated mature for a reason. Although this chapter is all fluff.

With one last glance in the mirror, Lucy eyed herself closely in the reflection. Her eyes followed the movement of her manicured hand slowly drifting down the length of the lacy bodice, smoothing over a few creases in the skirt before finally resting under her bump. She studied the silk material carefully, appreciating the way it flowed off of her curvaceous body and delicately trailed along the floor behind.

It was beautiful, unlike the enormous meringue-like frock her friends had so graciously picked out for her. Gone were the days of wearing intricately designed, overly priced, princess dresses that left little room to move, let alone breathe. No, the one she'd picked out was much more flattering, less poofy, and delicately sat in just the right places. It clung to her every curve and emphasised all the parts Lucy liked about her body, whilst also accommodating her growing bump. Her silky blonde hair had been loosely pulled back and curled, decorated with small gem encrusted pins throughout. And her make up had been left minimal, giving her a simple but elegant finish—the look she favoured nowadays.

Her hand began rubbing small circles were it lay, a recent thing she found herself doing, a comfort to her racing heart as it pulsated through her body, echoing the erratic movements of her unborn baby.

She was anxious; who wouldn't be? But she knew that her guild mates would never allow such a day to go badly, they'd all put too much effort into planning it to allow for such folly.

As for Natsu… well, the boy didn't know what'd hit him once the guild found out. He had no idea what getting married really entailed, and figured, like she, it would happen much further into the future than it had. Their friends, however, had given them little choice in the matter, and within a month of the proposal, she was standing in her dream wedding dress about to make that lifelong commitment to the man just as clueless as she was.

In some ways, it all seemed rather convenient. If Lucy didn't know any better, she would've put her fateful coupling down to destiny, but those were the delusions of a small child who'd grown up alone in a big mansion, destined to marry some self important aristocrat and play housewife for his money.

A different life entirely.

Her meeting Natsu had changed all that; he'd opened her eyes to what life could really offer. She'd concluded, after many years as a member of Fairy Tail, that destiny really could be burned to ashes, that fate stood no chance against the likes of her friends, and that she was no different. It had been her choices that'd lead her down this path, and that she had always been in charge of her own future.

So getting married was no longer some massive event that held such great importance in her life, for she had found her true happiness. Married or not, her feelings towards the dragon slayer would never change, her heart belonged solely to him and had done for much longer than she'd ever admit to.

Instead, the wedding would be used a day of celebrating their long lasting friendship, their deep bond and most importantly, the love they'd shared so unconditionally for one another. They'd been through so much together; the pain and heart ache; the cheer and laughter and everything in between; every memory was precious and every moment from now on, even more so.

The longer she thought about it all, the more her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears, threatening to streak down her powdered skin, "Ugh… Stupid feelings..." She whispered, using her finger to wipe up the wetness.

"Aw, Lucy, you don't have to cry! Save it for the actual ceremony, you'll ruin your make up otherwise." Levy was quick to take out a clean tissue, dabbing away at her friends eyes whilst trying not to ruin her masterpiece. "Thank goodness for waterproof mascara, huh?"

"Sorry Levy, I don't know what came over me." She just couldn't understand it; where had all these emotions come from? "It must be my hormones…"

"Nope, I'm pretty sure it's because you're about to get married, Lucy. I imagine lot's of bride's get a little teary on their wedding day." Mira began, offering some words of encouragement. "And besides, Natsu will be just as emotional, I bet."

If memory served correctly, Natsu would be, no doubt, still in his boxers, piling food into his face alongside Happy and Haru, with not a care in the world. It was just a gut feeling, but somehow, Lucy was pretty sure their morning had gone very differently to hers. "Hmm… I don't know. Are we even talking about the same person here? I mean he's probably not even dressed yet."

Mira chuckled lightly, although Lucy saw right through it. She knew that if her words were true, the barmaid wouldn't hesitate to go full Satan-soul on the slayer's ass, ripping him a new one. But the woman said nothing more about it as she reached up to place the veil atop of Lucy's head, before standing back to marvel at the beautiful bride, "There. I have to say, Natsu's one lucky guy! You look good enough to eat, Lucy!"

"Um… thanks, Mira." Blushing, Lucy turned away embarrassed, knowing exactly what the take over mage was inferring, "How much longer until we're ready?"

"Twenty minutes. So we need to pick up the pace or we'll be late." Erza's thunderous tone came sharply from the doorway as she entered the room, her athletic body filling her own, full length dress out in ways Lucy felt slightly envious of. "And the bride shall not be late to her own wedding. We've all waited far too long for it to be ruined now."

Lucy chose to ignore that last bit, never one to dwell on what her guild mates inevitably spoke about behind her and Natsu's back. She quickly put her heeled shoes on and made her way to the door, "Is Anna here yet? She's supposed to be walking me down the aisle."

One of the few decisions Lucy had been allowed to make about her wedding day was who she wanted walking her down the aisle. In replacement of her mother and as someone who meant a lot to both her and Natsu, Anna had been the perfect choice that no one could really argue with.

"I'm here, Lucy!" Anna called, waving her hand as she entered the room, awestruck by how radiant the bride looked in her glistening gown, "Wow! Don't you look stunning! Then again, the Heartfilia gene has yet to fail us." She winked and smiled, "Let's hope this baby follows the same path, hmm?"

Chuckling, Lucy smiled for the first time that morning, feeling a sense of comfort and relief with Anna around. She shared the same kind disposition and caring nature her mother once had; maybe it was a Heartfilia thing? But if Lucy closed her eyes for just a moment, she could almost trick herself into believing Layla was standing right there with her. Maybe, in some weird way, she was, and that's all the young blonde could hope for.

"Time to go!" Erza bellowed, shooing them all out of the door, "We have a wedding to attend!"

On the other side of town, up on the hill where the small cottage stood, a very different story was unfolding, one of complete bedlam, and no one, not even Lucy, should've expected any different.

"Dammit! Why do I have to wear this ridiculous thing anyway?" Natsu grumbled, pulling at the tie around his neck, unhappy that he'd been forced to wear it instead of his beloved scarf. "It's tryin' to choke me, I swear!"

"I don't think it's alive, Natsu…" Happy uttered, having watched his friend battle the urge to destroy the thing for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah, but if it was, I'd totally beat it and burn it to the ground!" Fisting the air in triumph over his imaginary brawl with the inanimate object, the fire breather sniggered.

"You could just burn it now."

The fire mage's smirk turned into an all out evil grin as he went to summon his fire, reaching for the offending material dangling over his shirt.

"Although, I doubt a certain scary lady in armour would be too pleased… Not after everything she went through to get you to wear it in the first place."

And then it all came crashing down again, his need to set fire to it dissipating. He knew better than to go against something Erza had chosen and groaned obnoxiously, throwing his head back onto the pillows in a huff, causing hot smoke to seep from his mouth, "Stupid tie… Stupid Erza…"

Hearing a thump next to him, his eyes rolled to the side, his neck twisting in turn, only to find that Haru had slumped down onto his back as well.

His large blue eyes were fixed on his father's mouth and his lips were pursed slightly as he continued to stare. Then, with a look of determination, he blew with all his might, over and over again in the hopes of forming his own puff of smoke.

Unable to keep his amusement in, Natsu turned over to observe the baby closer, intrigue furrowing his brows and fascination lighting up his face when an untimely idea came to mind.

"Hey Happy, d'ya think Haru might be able to learn magic soon?" He contemplated the thought for a moment as he sat himself up, pulling the little one up with him.

Stopping to think about it, the exceed scrunched his nose up in disbelief, not entirely sure if now was really the time to be having such thoughts, "Really? But he's only just learnt to walk."

"I know, but look at him. He seems to want to." Natsu wasn't sure if he'd even be able to teach him how to breath fire, not without the use of dragon slayer magic and that was off the table. But then again, that wasn't the only thing he could show him. "It'd be kinda cool to see, don't ya think?"

"Uh… I'm not sure now is the time, Natsu… you don't wanna be late." Happy erred on the side of caution, but after one look of his friends scheming face, he was quick to give in, "Then again, it would be pretty cool to see what he does, I guess."

"That's the spirit! We got some time to kill before that Snowflake gets here anyway, so might as well have a little fun." Natsu grinned wickedly, ideas of how to go about it swirling around in his head. "Hey little guy, come 'ere! Daddy's got something to show you!" Igniting his palm, he watched excitedly for Haru's reaction to his magic.

The little boy, although startled at first, stared in wonder at the tiny flame so close to his face, and watched it flicker with the slight movements of his father's hand. It was captivating to be within reach of such burning hot fire, even if he'd seen it so many times before. Although the bright heat was something he so readily associated with Natsu, being this close to it was a first for him, and that made it all the more thrilling.

"Fire!" The child exclaimed, using the springs of the mattress to bob up and down in his excitement.

"Heck yeah, it is! And now that it's just us, we can be awesome fire dragons together, right Haru?" Natsu sniggered like the mischievous imp he was, and brought the kids hand up next to his ignited one.

But after taking one look between his and his father's hands, the little boy pulled away again, a sad expression adorning his sweet face as he stared into his empty palm, "No…" He mumbled, his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes filling with tears, "No!"

"I don't think he understands, Natsu." Happy interjected, not convinced the boy was anywhere near old enough to fully grasp how to handle magic.

"'Course not—not yet anyway. But he will one day, and it's gonna be the best!" The slayer kept his smile as he guided the little boy onto his lap, ruffling his thick hair affectionately to cheer him up again, "Chin up, kiddo! It takes a long time to learn how to wield magic. But with some practice, you'll be the toughest little dragon around, you'll see."

Listening to that calming tone, the child glanced up at his adoring parent, comforted by the big grin that always managed to reach his eyes, a gentle touch that embodied the very bond they shared. The mood was infectious and with a little coaxing, the small boy couldn't keep his lips from curving upwards, brightening the room around them once again.

With newfound courage, he reached his arm back out, placing it near to Natsu and waited expectantly, "Oh, so you do wanna be a dragon, huh? Alright then, but ya gotta give me your best roar first!" Natsu smirked, proud to have taught his son the 'non-magical' version of roaring (aka shouting really loudly) at the very least. And he did just that; at the top of his voice; no encouragement needed, "Whoa! That was super awesome, little guy! Now let's see how you handle this!"

"If you're about to do what I think you're gonna do, then I hope for your sake, Lucy never finds out." Happy warned, not wanting to take any responsibility for what was inevitably about to happen.

"Hey! I'm not stupid enough to burn down my own house. What do you take me for, an idiot?" The answer was yes, but Happy's restraint held strong, knowing he'd be heard even if he'd muttered it under his breath. Natsu, on the other hand, took no heed and brought both hands out this time, taking hold of the chubby little ones waiting for him, "Are ya ready?"

Igniting the flames once more, Haru watched the blazing magic slowly seep onto his fingers, a gentle warmth tingling his flesh, enough to make him flinch as it encased each tiny fist. After a few unsure moments, and the opening and closing of his palms, his blue eyes lit up with a wonderment only children seemed to possess, his very soul shining just as brightly as the flames he'd been gifted.

"Daddy! Daddy, fire!"

Natsu chuckled, as he leant back on the bed, using his now fireless hands to prop himself up, "Haha! I knew you had it in ya! Now you get to be just like a real fire dragon, and as long as you play with it on me, you can't burn anything, either." It was fool proof, he was certain of that. And with the look of sheer astonishment on that cute little face in front of him, Natsu could hardly contain himself.

"Yeah, right! Like you're one to talk…You're the first person to destroy things. It's why we never have any money." It was true and Natsu knew it, but that didn't stop the unimpressed glare he sent Happy's way.

"Why else do you think I put him in my lap?" The slayer tilted his head, his annoyance short lived, "He can't burn me so it's fine, and he's not really wielding fire, it's just pretend." He added, his infamous grin returning, and attention now fully diverted from the child he was supposed to be watching, "They'll go out before long."

"Sure, but, uh… I think Haru may have different ideas…" The exceed said, quietly gesturing to the boy in his lap.

"Huh? How so?" The fire mage asked, but by the time he'd turned around to see, it was already too late, "Haru!"

With one touch from the child's fingers, the fire caught on to the covers they were sitting on and spread like a fuse to a bomb.

"Get out of the way!" It lit up the entire bed in a flash, giving Natsu only seconds to get Haru off of it in time before they both landed in heaps on the floor.

It'd gone up so quickly; such was the destructive nature of those flames, and now his and Lucy's bed, the very bed they slept in every night, was a pile of smoking ash on the floor, the fire extinguished along with it.

Silence. All that could be heard was the silence…

"I… I-I'm dead… I'm so dead…" The dragon slayer's voice was barely a whisper, and his horrified expression said it all. The crushing weight of impending doom loomed over him and no amount of blinking was going to bring back their disintegrated bed, no matter how hard he tried.

What was he going to do? He'd been in control of the situation; he had a plan and it was fool proof. Not a few seconds he'd peeled his sights away from the child—just a few damn seconds and now...

And what about Lucy? She'd be furious, no… outraged by it all! He'd be seeing her in less than thirty minutes from now; how could he look her in the eyes, say their vows, then tell her she'd be sleeping on the couch?! That was a conversation that ended badly no matter what way he looked at it.

"You were saying?" Happy teased, covering his mouth with his paw, the rare look of mortification on his friend's face was priceless.

"Lucy's going to kill me!" His gaping sockets could barely keep his eyeballs from falling out, and his mouth hung low enough he could almost lick the ash off the ground.

"Daddy fire! Daddy fire!" Haru cheered, clapping his hands together while laughing, unaware of the chaos he'd unleashed, seemingly impressed with himself.

"Y-Yeah..." The young man slumped back against the dressing table, the feeling of dread taking over him the more he played out in his mind how he was going to tell his new, and very pregnant wife of the unfortunate news, giving him zero hope for survival, "You're gonna be the end of me, kid!"

"Like father, like son!" It was all too funny for the little exceed, who was attempting, but failing, to stop the flow of cackles escaping his mouth.

"Hey! Stop laughing would ya! It's not funny!" Natsu snapped, the sound of Happy busting his guts slowly grinding away at him.

"But it is! You should've seen your face! Shame Reedus wasn't here to draw the picture!" Happy continued to shriek with laughter, infecting little Haru as well.

"Not you, too!" Natsu complained, but his voice held no real consequence. After all, it was his idea to let the one year old play with fire, and it would be his sorry ass to own up and take responsibility.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" Startled by the unexpected but familiar voice, the trio of boys twisted their heads to see an out of breath Gray standing in the bedroom doorway.

"Oh, it's you… Don't you know how to knock?" Natsu dead-panned, apparently more annoyed by Gray's intrusion than the burnt bed.

"Never mind about that, I ran all the way here 'cause your house is smoking! What did you do this time, fire breath?" Glad to see everyone was fine, the ice mage sighed in relief that it appeared to be nothing serious.

"Hey! Why do people always assume it's me? Maybe it was Happy?"

"But it was you, Natsu."

"Shh! I'm trying to make a point here!"

"It was obviously you, idiot! You're the only pyro here!" Gray shook his head, hardly believing that this was the guy about to get married. "Anyway, we need to get going, or Erza will have our heads."

"But… but what about the bed?" Natsu whimpered like a child, pointing to where it once stood.

"Wait… You burnt down your own bed?! What is wrong with you, Dragneel?! Of all the days to be a bigger idiot than normal, you pick today?" Gray smacked his palm over his face exasperatedly. He hadn't even noticed that it was the bed that'd been burnt, but now it was clear to see where all the smoke was coming from.

"Come on, numbskull! We don't have time for this!" Grabbing hold of the still-in-shock Natsu by the collar, he used his ice magic to freeze all of the ash lain bare on the floor, effectively halting the smoke and yanked his rival out of the house, determined to get to the cathedral on time, "We'll deal with your stupidity later, but right now, you gotta get married and I'm prepared to drag you all the way there if I have to."

Lucy could feel the blood pulsing in her ears, her hand clutched at her belly as the sickness she'd been suppressing all morning finally reared its ugly head. She felt sticky and clammy from the extra adrenaline coursing its way through her body—and was now an appropriate time to say she needed to pee… again!?

"Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself." She heard Anna whisper into her ear as they both stared at the large cathedral doors. "When you walk down that aisle, remember its only you and Natsu that matters, no one else, okay?"

Giving a shy nod, she inhaled deeply, as if that was going to be her last breath and tried to calm herself down.

"Are you ready?"

Bowing her head once more, Lucy could hear the guests grow silent behind the large doors, the loud creaking signifying they were opening. Planting one heeled foot over the threshold, the blonde looked up to everyone that was waiting for her entrance, and it was in that moment time seemed to stand still.

Among the gasps and gleaming faces; the decorated pews and hard stone floor; hazy, chocolate eyes scoured the ancient hall. There they all were; her friends; her family; every single person that held such importance in her heart. It made her happy, ecstatic even, that this joyous day could be celebrated with the people closest to her, the people that'd accepted her for who she was and nurtured her into the person she was today.

She hadn't even realised she'd stopped breathing until her lungs began to ache, forcing her to inhale a large breath of air as her legs began to slowly, and shakily, walk forwards.

Her dress glimmered in the dim light of the medieval building, capturing the eyes of the crowd, lighting up the very aisle as the long train behind her rippled with each step she took towards the altar.

But nobody, not even the keenest of dragon senses could see the pure beauty the way he did. With heat pooling in his belly, he watched the girl he loved make her way towards him, dazzling as brightly as the stars she wielded. His mouth ran dry, and his heart skipped many beats, making him question whether it was just his imagination. She appeared before him within a blink of an eye, and it was all to easy to just wash the others away.

"She's all yours, Natsu." Anna said, releasing her arm from Lucy's firm hold and winked at them both, gladly stepping back to let them take centre stage.

But neither mage heard her as their eyes connected for the first time, too enraptured by what stood before them, too absorbed in their own little world, and nothing could penetrate it.

"You… You look beautiful, Lucy." Natsu wasn't easy to fluster, but the pink tinge on his cheeks told her she'd succeeded. "Really… really beautiful…"

Her own bashfulness became evident too, her eyes soaking in his glorious form as if she'd been starved of him, "You're looking pretty good yourself, Natsu." She studied him up and down, her gaze becoming hungry for more. It wasn't very often she got to see his exceptionally toned body in something so formal, and she was totally going to make the most of it.

"T-Thanks..."

The playful wink and cute chuckle only served to make the pink on his cheeks grow darker, as if this was the first time she'd ever paid him a compliment.

‘Wasn't Lucy the one that usually reacted like this?’ He wondered, unsure why his face was suddenly feeling so hot.

“Although, I have to say, it’s still a little strange seeing you without your scarf on.” She admitted, unable to take her eyes away from his slender neck. Usually it didn’t come off until he was ready for bed… or other, less innocent things.

"You can thank Erza for that! She stole it from me and made me wear a damn tie instead." His petulant tone had the blonde sniggering into her hand, his instant annoyance enough to quash any tension left between them, "She even made Haru wear one."

Lucy glanced over to where Haru was sat in the crowd, who, although dressed in something entirely impractical for a toddler, was happily waving to his mother with the biggest grin on his face, "Poor guy…" She said, waving back, "He does look super cute in it though."

A loud cough from the front halted them in their tracks, finally breaking them out of their little bubble, "When you're quite finished." A loud voice echoed through the cathedral walls, making both mages stand to attention and face the front like naughty school children.

An older gentleman with a bald head and long beard stood before them, his bushy brows making it hard to see where his wrinkles stopped and his eyes began glared impatiently at the pair, tapping his fingers on the book he held in his hands, "Now, let's begin."

With an exaggerated sigh, his voice traipsed along the pages of his book, an aged tone that said he'd spoken these words all too many times before, had read those same lines, and joined countless lovers together in matrimony over the years. He was practised and poised, an elegant and poetic speaker, able to captivate his audience…

Unless they were Fairy Tail, of course, and more specifically a pink haired, impulsive dragon slayer, who's attention span rivalled that of a five year old. He'd zoned out the moment the old guy had started rambling, too interested in getting to the good bit—eating food and kissing Lucy, obviously.

It all sounded like drivel, mindless, unnecessary drivel, that seemed never ending, and the hall was so deafeningly quiet, which, was unnerving to say the least when trying to distract oneself.

Well, except for one faint noise, that was.

Thanks to his excellent hearing, he could hear little Haru babbling from the pews. He was being ever so quiet about it considering his lack of awareness for what was going on, and the sudden urge to turn around and take a peek at what he was doing seemed almost too much for the fire mage.

With the slightest quirk of his head, he glanced back to see the small boy playing with Happy's tail, minding his own business, perfectly content without him or Lucy there.

Satisfied to see the infant playing so calmly, Natsu went to turn back around again when a loud 'Daddy!' stopped him in his tracks. The small boy, who'd not been aware of his father's peeping only a moment ago, was now trying to scramble over the blue exceed to get to him.

"No Haru, you gotta stay there. Stay with Happy!" The desperate fire mage whispered, pointing to the cat as a sheepish grin took over at the chaos he'd caused. "Daddy will be over in a minute, kay?"

"You're making it worse, Natsu, turn around!" Lucy whispered rather loudly, never looking away from the old man still talking as she leaned in.

"Sorry Luce, but I could hear Haru talking to himself. I just wanted to see what he was doing." Natsu explained, rubbing the back of his head in habit, "Not my fault he caught me looking."

"You looked at him first, of course he was going to notice you." She said a little louder, enough that the people sat closest to them could hear.

And that was all he needed for the small smirk to creep its way onto his lips, "Oh, so you were watching, too?"

"N-No…" She stuttered, giving herself away, "I wasn't…"

"Liar."

"Okay, fine. But why do I have to listen to this and you don't? I'm just as bored as you are." She admitted, her whispers getting louder the more irate she became, "Do you know how many times I've had to keep myself from yawning? And I really need to pee, too!"

As important as she knew this part of the ceremony was, it didn't half drag. Couldn't they just say 'I do' and be done with it already? Who cared about some God when her feet were starting to hurt!?

"Well, aren't you full of surprises… Maybe you should've gone before." He sniggered, knowing exactly how to push her buttons, relishing in the glare that had imminent death written all over it.

“It’s not like I’m carrying your baby or anything…” She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Alright, if your that desperate, I could always make him go faster." His face lit up with the most mischievous grin, igniting a small flame on his pointer finger.

"Natsu! You can’t do that! You’ll get us kicked out!” She rolled her eyes, though she appreciated the sentiment.

"Aw, come on! Not even a little singe?" He pointed his fiery finger towards the man in front of them, edging it slowly closer on purpose, "His brows need taking back a bit, don't you think?"

Lucy chortled at the thought, highly amused by the man's enormous brows being set on fire and couldn't stop the giggles that followed, her restraint finally caving, "Maybe just a little bit!"

"Will you two pay attention and turn to face each other." The old man grumbled, none the wiser to their little inside jokes. "Present the rings."

The blonde continued to chuckle as she turned to face her partner in crime, her steady heart picking up pace a little now that they were staring right at each other.

His unwavering smile and silly behaviour was something she had always admired. His ability to lighten any situation, regardless of how grim it may seem, instantly had her smiling along, too.

"Now, Natsu, please say your vows."

Inhaling a deep breath, the young mage knew he'd never been good with words. Lucy had always been the speaker, the writer, the one able to talk her way out of most situations, and although the vows he'd prepared were not long like sappy love letters or poetic or book worthy, they came from the heart and that's all he could offer her.

"Luce… I gotta admit, I never saw this coming." He chuckled, his hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, "And I know for sure you didn't either, but that's okay because no matter what happens, we'll always be Natsu and Lucy, and we'll always be partners."

Without looking away, he held her shaky hand and slipped the precious ring onto her finger with ease, her delicate skin soft against his loving warmth.

"I've always known you were special to me, it just took a while to realise how much, I guess… And apparently adopting a kid with your best friend isn't normal, so…" He shrugged nonchalantly, never giving it much thought, but earned a giggle from Lucy in return. "But I knew you'd put your all into being the best Mom you could, just like in everything you do. You're a super kind person with so much love to give, it's why you're so precious to me, and I wanna protect that with everything I've got. So, that's my promise to you, Lucy, I will protect your heart, so long as it continues to beat."

She gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs as if she'd been winded. It was short and to the point but those sweet sounding words of his, the very meaning behind them were enough to make her knees tremble. She stared, mouth agape at the man that stood before her, blown away by his promise, astounded that he'd once again found the perfect things to say.

A few unplanned tears escaped as she looked over to the little boy in the pews, then peered down to her rounded tummy, feeling the butterflies and the baby's movements fluttering around inside. So much had changed, and this would be a whole new chapter to add to their never ending adventure, an overwhelming thought that seemed all too much for her to get to grips with.

Feeling a warm hand cup her cheek she looked up to the sweet smile of her lover, the person that meant everything to her, and felt this fingers wipe away her tears. He always had a way of filling her with encouragement, even, it seemed, with just a single gesture.

"Thank you, Natsu. Now Lucy, you may begin." The old guy uttered, his gruff voice quieter than before.

Placing her free hand over the top of his, she brought them both to rest on her belly, her smile reaching her eyes as the small kicks poked at their skin, making them both chuckle.

"Natsu, there are so many things I could say that I admire about you; I could also find an equal amount of things that annoy me, too." His sudden pout made her giggle once again, along with the rest of the guild members, "But that doesn't matter, because that's the person I fell in love with. You're loyal, brave and strong; your silly, impulsive and like to fool about, but you also bring smiles to everyone around you, an ability that only you seem to possess.

I can't remember how many times you've shown me the light, lifted me up in my time of need and carried me until I could stand on my own two feet. Your presence and comfort has always been my safe place, somewhere I can call home. You're such a beautiful person, and I'm so lucky to be able to call you mine."

Tears began to fill her eyes again, and she was sure his had become a little watery too.

"So, in return for all that you do for me, and us as a family, I promise to play with your hair when your motion sick and rub your back when you eat too much." Natsu's cheeks lifted up to his eyes, scrunching them closed in amusement as she, too, grinned back at him.

"I promise to love you with all of my heart, to lift you up in your time of need and put a smile on your face when your feeling down. I promise to be loyal, brave, and strong for you, too; to fool about and make you laugh, and to always be there to stop you from going overboard.

I'll forever stand proudly at your side, and hold your hand through whatever life throws at us. You've shaped me into the person I am today, and if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have this wonderful life, such amazing friends, or a family to call my own." The tears that welled began to spill down her pink stained cheeks, but the smile that had been there all along never wavered from her lips, "You're my everything, Natsu, and you will be until the day I die."

A single tear drop slowly trickled down and dripped off of his chin as his breath hitched in his throat. As time once again stood still, it felt like he and Lucy were the only ones present; no longer able to see the guild watching their every move, or hear the grumpy old man scold them for not paying attention. Lucy was his sole focus and without waiting for the final lines to be read, the young groom impatiently pulled her in, and welded their lips together in a display of affection that had the crowd wooing and whistling for them in celebration.

"Congratulations to the happy couple!" Mira mewled, throwing confetti and flower petals over the two still very much consumed by one another.

"Can you believe it? After all these years, they're finally married!" Levy squealed in her excitement, deafening poor Gajeel in the process.

"Who'd have thought our boy, Natsu, would've ever settled down?" Wakaba stood from his seat, cigarette at the ready.

"Yep! It seems like only yesterday he was pulling pranks and starting fights with the other youngsters." Macao smirked, his arms crossed cockily over his chest.

"That's because it was yesterday, Dad! Natsu hasn't changed that much…" Romeo shook his head at the two old farts, but smiled when he looked back to his idol, "Then again, he does have a family now. I guess getting married just kinda made sense."

"Nothing they do makes sense, kid. You only have to look at 'em to see that." Laxus spoke from the pew behind, his thunder legion companions sat right along with him.

"Yes, but they have made their pairing work. As a team, they're like clockwork and as a couple, they're impenetrable." Erza's smile brightened her face as she glanced on at the two newly weds, proud of her friends and of how far they'd come.

"Alright guys, let's move this to the guild! I wanna get my booze on and the bar is waiting!" Cana yelled, drink bottle already in hand as she, along with most of the others filtered out of the cathedral, not wanting to spoil the couples moment.

Natsu and Lucy, however, were in a bubble all of their own; where soft, tinted lips met hot, firm ones in a passionate battle that neither wanted to lose. But the need for air was far stronger, forcing them to separate and stare into each others eyes as they caught their breaths.

"You know, you're supposed to wait for me to pronounce you husband and wife before embracing like that." The bushy browed man said from behind the altar, glowering at the couple he had no hope of controlling.

"Oh… uh, sorry about that… Kinda got swept up in the moment." Natsu grinned sheepishly, chuckling to ease the tension, while Lucy just hid herself behind him.

"Hmm… Well it doesn't matter now. What does is that you are legally bound. Good luck to you both."

"Thanks!"

They watched the man take his leave, only then noticing that the hall was empty, "Huh… Where'd everybody go?" The fire mage was sure the hall had been filled just a moment ago.

"So you guys finally came up for air, huh?" Gray walked over, he and Juvia, along with Happy and Haru the only ones left. "Everyone's gone back to the guild to wait instead of watch you both suck face. Seriously, how long can you hold your breath for?"

An oblivious Natsu only shrugged, but a blushing Lucy was quick to hide her face from Gray's knowing smirk, turning the opposite way to where Juvia was standing with the little baby in her arms, and the blonde's face lit up instantly, "Oh, look at him! Isn't he just the sweetest? And he didn't cry once throughout the whole thing! What a little sweetheart!"

"Yes, Juvia is quite surprised herself that he stayed quiet. Juvia can't say he does the same at night though." The water mage chuckled through her tiredness, a look Lucy was all too familiar with, "But Juvia doesn't mind, not when Gray is so willing to get up with him."

"Aww, Daddy Gray to the rescue, huh? And here I thought you were worried about the whole thing. Looks like you're doing just fine to me!" Lucy said, turning her attention to the ice mage standing there.

"Worried? Who said I was-?" And then it clicked, "Natsu! You told Lucy what I said? That was just between us!" Gray turned to the fire mage, who, had since recovered his own son from the pews, walking him back to where they were all standing.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I only told Lucy, duh!"

"Don't 'duh' me, you weren't supposed to tell anybody, and that includes Lucy!" If he could've smacked his head on a wall, he would've… Or better yet, smack Natsu's!

"But I tell Lucy everything…"

"Oh, you do, do you? That's funny, because I'm certain there's something you haven't told her yet, right?" The look of fear that flashed across Natsu's face was enough to make the ice mage drop his annoyance in favour of revenge.

"Not told me what? Did something happen?" Lucy cocked her head as she looked up from the cooing baby, her sights flickering between the squabbling duo scowling at each other.

"Should I tell her, Natsu?" Gray's smirk was almost sickening, his own pleasure outweighing the consequences.

"Don't you dare, Popsicle!" The fire mage bit out through gritted teeth, "Or I'll rearrange your face with my fist!" If looks could kill…

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" The curious look on Lucy's face quickly turned to frustration the longer she was kept waiting, "Natsu?" Slowly she traipsed her way over, backing him against the rows of benches.

"Uh oh! Looks like hell is about to break loose..." Happy sniggered from his perch on the altar, high fiving Haru as he began to giggle, too.

"Oh dear… You may have started something there, Gray dear." Juvia said, passing the sleepy newborn over to his father.

"Nah! Natsu had this one coming." He sniggered, shushing the baby back to sleep.

A vein popping on her forehead, Lucy's irritation had just about reached breaking point, "Speak!"

Swallowing thickly, the young man looked up to his very new, very pregnant wife, just like he knew he'd have to and wished momentarily that the ground would swallow him whole, "Well… Uh… I-It's kind of… Um…" What was he supposed to say? "I-I was playing with Haru this morning and, u-uh, stuff happened and our bed is now… gone."

Raising a brow, the girl looked even more confused, "Gone? What do you mean, it's gone?"

"Gone… As in it was there… and now its not." He really wasn't doing himself any favours.

"Natsu..."

"Happy did it!" He panicked.

"Hey! No I didn't, you burnt it! You let Haru play with your fire, not me! I warned you it would end badly, but you wouldn't listen and now-"

"You did what?!" Her eyes were blood red as she glared at the suspecting dragon slayer, her hair reminiscent of a certain Satan soul mage. “You burnt down our bed?!”

It was in times like this he was glad that she couldn't out run him, especially not at the moment, as he pegged it for the exit.

"Natsu Dragneel! Just you wait 'til I get my hands on you!"

Her yelling from behind reminded him of all the times he'd found himself in this exact predicament, whether it be from destroying a building or their bed, it brought a smile to his lips at just how familiar it all felt. It seemed as their evolving relationship and family changed and grew, his vows rang true, they would always be Natsu and Lucy, and that would forever be the same.

With one solid push of the large cathedral doors, he opened them wide, allowing the natural afternoon light seep into the old walls. Readjusting the boy in his arms, and with Happy flying over head, he chanced a small glance back at his livid wife stalking her way over to him, and grinned mischievously, sealing his already doomed fate with his final words, "Come on then, Luce! But you'll have to catch me first!"

Thanks for reading! 

[suicidalslasher]

forever & always. ➤ tom. h.

Happy Valentine’s Day~!!! I couldn’t contain myself and or stop myself from writing about my favorite Valentine’s day killer. So, here you go :)

WARNING: descriptions of gore and blood. in this one-shot, the reader’s pronouns are she&her.  i might make a part two of this, depending on how well it does. maybe not. i like how it ends, regardless. either way. enjoy.

The news spread like wildfire. No matter which way you went, there was always a flame, reaching out towards those to burn. Try as you may, you can't get away. The words that littered the air was nothing more than burnt ashes fluttering around, burning each object as it flies above said thing or said person. In this case, the people of a small town called Valentine Bluffs were the ones burning from the inside and out. They felt trapped within the smoke, unable to seek out which way to escape the dangers that had followed.   The terror; the trauma; the panic and anxiety attacks; All of it - they thought it was long gone.... they were finally going back to being normal, how things used to be. 

They were going back to a life that wasn't full of fear, having to look behind your shoulder constantly and being careful of who you trust. It was all going to be okay, happy once more. They'd finally be able to celebrate their favorite day once again.  But... as you may have guessed, it's not quite  easy to put out a rapid wildfire. All it takes is a small fire to expand out into something bigger, bolder, and scarier. You can't escape the flames. No matter how big or small. You cannot ignore the overwhelming burning sensation that  glazes across your skin as the fire around you grows larger, making you feel smaller and smaller by the second.  The words, however, the statement that was fluttering around like specks of ash,  wasn't at all a sentence (nor an actual fire)  but a name - Harry Warden.  1997. Valentine's day. Everybody, in & out of town, knows what happened.  For a brief period of time there, nobody celebrated Valentine's day, having thought it out to be cursed.  Yet, as time went on, there was no sign of Harry Warden. No copy cat killer version of him, neither. So, the people went back to celebrating. Writing hand written love letters,  buying cheaply made cards at the local supermarket, buying and or receiving overly priced chocolates. Anything, everything, people did it with  love in their hearts and a smile on their face.  Today was Valentine's Day, once more. Expect it wasn't the way it had been for the past 9 years. It was exactly like the day in 1997. History was repeating itself.  Instead of love, presents, and reserved dinner dates being celebrated and shared, the town of Valentine Bluffs  got decomposed, rotting corpses,  instead. Blood scattered outside and inside of buildings. 

  It was worse than before, more bodies were showing up without their hearts and the missing body piece would be found neatly placed in between a plastic heart shaped box. All of which would be sent to the police station as a joke, as  a threat.  Even a card would be taped on top or under the container, though the sentences were far from cheerful and loveable.  A few of them had been thrown aside, only having been read once. Those who opened it and read it aloud usually found themselves cringing in dismay  as they read the paragraph out loud all while  shifting around in their seat, uncomfortably.  

Once they read it, they shook their heads as tears welled up in their eyes before they threw it into the trash bin or ripped it into hundreds of tiny pieces, not daring to open another letter that's brought in. Evidence or not, the workers couldn't keep their breakfast or lunch down when they'd read the cards.  The recent two cards had said;  From the heart comes a warning, filled with bloody good cheer, remember what happened as the 14th draws near!  And the last victim, a girl named Maryanne Anderson, had gotten a card right before she was found dead, her body laying in a ditch to rot.  Her card had read; Roses are red, violets are blue, one is dead, and so are you.  Nobody knew who the new killer was, or if it even was a new killer, copying Harry's schemes and following in his footsteps.  It could have very well been  the same man all those years ago. That's what they were saying.   (Y/N) (L/N) was in her car, driving back home from work when her favorite song had been replaced with an alarm, cutting off her favorite part. "Oh, c'mon!" She groaned, hands hitting the steering wheel in annoyance  before she goes to turn up the volume anyways, wondering what's so important that the town and the police station had to turn off her favorite song. 

She knew about the murders, she knew there was a serial killer around, she already knew this already. And yes, she was petrified, as most people were. When the first body showed up, the mayor of town announced there'd be a curfew until they found out who is doing all of this. Whether it was one person or more, they'd find a way to capture the killer. No matter what. There was not going to be another murder.

 (Of course, there was more.) 

 (The original curfew was getting home at 9:30. Now, it had gone down and you'd have to be indoors, at your house, by 6:30 PM.)  Students in school would get out earlier, as well as the adults in town. The only ones who didn't get to go home so early in the day were those who were trying to protect the people of Valentine Bluffs.  "We are sorry to interrupt that song there," came the  radio host's deep and groggy voice. "However, this is more important than your favorite throwback jams. I've gotten an officer here with me, he had just shown up not even a second ago to tell us more news on the situation we are currently in. So, please, listen carefully."  "Yeah, whatever. I already know what's going on. Tell me something I don't know." (Y/N)  turns off the radio as she pulls up in her driveway, feeling a sense of comfort clouding over her, another day, she's okay; safe and sound, unlike a few of her old high school friends that were gutted like fish and butchered like pigs. 

She shivers at both the bitter and harsh wind brushing against her  as she steps out of her vehicle and the obvious visual of whatever masked man (or men) that's around, killing innocent people for whatever given reason.  Hurrying along the steps to her porch, she digs her keys out of her jacket pocket, finding them within seconds before she's pushing them into the door as quickly as she could. She didn't show it, tried not to show it, but she was as anxious and paranoid as everyone else was. 

(Y/N) was  trying to hold back her fear but the moment she gets home, locking all the doors and windows, the uneasy feelings creep up on her and every negative emotion takes charge.     With a sigh, she falls down onto the couch with a plop, reaching for the remote, she turns on the TV, attempting to try and get her mind off of things.  Of course, every station wasn't what she wanted to watch, the news replacing every channel.  She skipped and skipped but it all remained the exact same. With a groan, she decides to listen to what they were saying, even though she really didn't want to hear it as it'd only make her anxiety worse.  "I am Jonathan Godfrey. We're sorry to interrupt your daily scheduled programs, however, a man you may know as Tom Hanniger has escaped from his stay from a mental hospital."  (Y/N)'s eyes nearly budge out of her head at the mention of the man's name,  the remote she had in the palm of her hand goes flying, falling down onto the ground by her feet. Tom? Mental hospital? It didn't make any sense! Everyone... including her, thought he was dead! She, with shaky fingers, grabs the remote to turn the volume up.   Jonathan's own eyes were wide as he read the teleprompter, his voice now grew shaky as he spoke. Fear was written across both his and his co-worker’s face. "Unfortunately, we don't have any more information or news as to where he's escaped off to. Or where he may be as of the moment. All the reports, every last piece of information we have been received  has said he's been missing since two days ago.  He can be anywhere.  More importantly, he can be here, hiding out." His voice trembled as he spoke, it was also very faint - almost ghostly. Quiet as a mouse. His skin was pale, making it appear as if he was a ghost rather than a living person that sat in the chair there.  

 Jonathan couldn't continue, this much was obvious, therefore his co-host, Abigail Miller, continued where he had left off.    "This being said, please, lock the doors and windows of your home. If you have a weapon to guard your own life and protect your ground, get it out now. Please, protect yourself the very best you can. And do not, I repeat, do not answer the door. Do not leave your home whatsoever. Whatever is outside of your house is surely not more important than your life.  

“Whether it is Tom that has been doing this or not, we're not exactly sure. All we tell you is to be careful and remain indoors until we can find Tom and or find the Valentine's killer. This has been Jonathan Godfrey and Abigail Miller, with the news. Stay safe and God bless." The program that was previously playing showed up finally, the neon colors swirling together to form the title of the show, along with a fairly way too cheerful theme song playing faintly in the distance as the introduction played out. (Y/N) had never heard of it before, but from a quick glance, it appeared to be a sitcom from the late 70's.  The only source of light was coming from the television screen, casting colorful shadows across (Y/N)'s face. She had felt too tired to have turned on the lights upon entering her house. Work was short, the hours having grown thinner because of the curfew, however, it was still tiring all the same.  She instantly regretted not doing so now, however. 

She sat in the dark, her heart thumping loudly against her chest as she pulled a near by blanket around her shoulders as if the thick fabric would comfort her and protect her. The room had gotten colder ever since the report was announced. Goosebumps ran up and down (Y/N)'s body, the baby hairs on her neck stood on end as a shiver slid up and down her spine. Despite the blanket being around her body, she felt nothing but cold, numb. Suddenly, the TV went out with a soft 'ping'.    (Y/N) gasped and her heart stopped beating all together.  She felt like she couldn't breathe, she couldn't tell if she was going crazy either when she heard what sounded like  footsteps coming down from the hallway. She sat, frozen, on her couch, unable to move, unable to breathe.  Then.... a knock. Followed by another and another. It was right outside, coming from not the front entrance but the back yard. "(Y/N)? (Y/N), please..." came the voice.  ​​​​​​​And (Y/N) recognized that voice anywhere.  She knows she shouldn't.... everybody said not to but... she couldn't help herself.  Getting up as quickly as she could, she runs down the hallway, the sounds of her feet echoing against the thin walls as she reaches the door, tugging it open.   There, on the other half of the door, stood nobody other than Tom Hanniger himself.   He looked up, surprised she had answered the door.  Giving her a weak, lopsided smile,  Tom's pulling her into a tight hug, his head falling down in the crook between her shoulder and neck, tears flooding his eyes as he soaks her shirt, silently weeping. "(Y/N).... fuck, I've missed you so much, missed you so bad." Tom confesses with a sniffle.  "Tom... I- what're you doing here? They're looking for you, you know this, right? Everybody's looking for you. And.... and I- fuck, Tom! I thought you were dead. Everybody in town thought you died the day your father did." (Y/N) didn't hesitate to hide her true feelings. She was a mixture of emotions. Angry, happy, sad, scared - she was feeling every single emotion there possibly was. "I know... I know. I-I have a lot to explain and a lot to tell you but please, right now, can we just- can we just play pretend?" He asked, moving away from her shoulder as he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his sweater, his eyes remained watery and his skin was flushed as he looked up at (Y/N).  (Y/N) guessed it was a mixture of three things - running away from the mental hospital to where her house was to  the bitter and harsh February air. Plus, the crying he had just done, too. His face was red and blotchy from all three. Despite it being so cold, sweat trickled his face, a few drips of it falling along side his cheeks. "Play pretend?" (Y/N) echoed, tilting her head to the side, unsure of what he meant.  "Let's play pretend." He repeated, licking his lips. "Let's play pretend and imagine none of this horrid, crazed shit is going on right now. Let's pretend it's only me and you. It's Valentine's day, isn't it? Let's celebrate. After all, it was one of our favorite days to spend together."  Heat rose to (Y/N)'s cheeks and she bit on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on the bottom of her feet.  "Tom.... I-I'm...You want-" She couldn't from sentences, her thoughts were mushing together and it was all too much for her to handle. She felt like she was going to pass out. "I want you, (Y/N). I want you as bad as I did then and I want you just as badly right  now. There has never been a day where I wasn't thinking about you. You were the love of my life. I still love you, maybe even more, now. Let's celebrate, please. We can talk about everything tomorrow morning. I promise I'll tell you everything.  Right now, let's play pretend, let's act like it's just us again, like when we were teens.... I've missed you. And.... and I know you've missed me too or else you wouldn't have opened the door." And, yeah, okay, he was right.  "Tom..."  "(Y/N)." He stepped closer to her, closer than he had done before, as he rests his hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her skin as he looked into her (E/C) eyes.  "I love you. I never stopped. And I know you love me, too.... so, please, baby girl.... can I just show you how much I love you?" (Y/N) shouldn't have answered the door. She should have called the cops when she heard his voice. Everything was too much of a  coincidence. 

Her power was working perfectly fine until Tom had shown up. 

Now that she was thinking about it.... 

There was also no victims until she had heard the news Tom had left the asylum. Three days ago.... 

Three days ago, there was the first victim; Maryanne.  If she thought too much about it, got too deep into the rabbit hole, she would have assumed Tom Hanniger was the Valentine's killer - The Miner.  Yet... looking at Tom, she knew he wasn't - couldn't - be the killer. If he was, he would've killed her too, right? Tom Hanniger's been through too much, and just like she was there before, she was going to be there for him now. Through Hell and back.  

She would stay by his side, no matter what. She still kept the old promise ring he had given her in high school, along with the note in which he confessed his feelings. In which, he told her - one day - he'd marry her. She was the perfect girl for him, as he was the perfect man for her.  A promise is a promise. When she said 'forever and always', she meant that. (Y/N) knew Tom meant it, too.  "I love you too."   Tom's quick to place his lips on (Y/N)'s and (Y/N) is quick to kiss him back just as hungry, just as fierce. She tangles  her fingers through her hair and pulls on it, earning a groan from Tom. Satisfied with the result, she tugs him into her house by the sleeve of his shirt, slamming the door shut with her foot. 

"I've missed you, baby." He says, not daring to pull away from the kiss.

"Show me how much you've missed me then, baby." She mumbles against his lips. "Oh, I'm going to."  "Let's go celebrate Valentine's day the right way then. Come on, let's go upstairs."   Tom grins and  (Y/N) smiles back before she's pulling him up the stairs and into her bedroom. 

Forever and Always. It was them until the end. Nobody would ever separate the two of them, again.... not even Harry Warden was going to destroy Tom’s happiness... not this time.

[thisdreamplace]

ashamed to say the 3D reflects our true inner reality, yes? my ENTIRE family has turned against me, after some atrocious conflicts in which they all ganged up on me nd judged me, name-calling, very hurtful things too, provoked me. i been dealing with some serious mental uh 'issues' on my own nd when this happend i was already on the verge of a breakdown nd the good news is while the conflict happened i kept telling myself theyre only reflecting me u can get thru it etc. Later i looked at the hard facts nd realised some of the hurtful things they said were my deep secret feelings abt myself. BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people? confronting one person vs whole family, why?! i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?

Part 2 is simply its been a week and theyve still been cold towards me as if I yelled AT THEM ABT THEIR PAINFUL 'tRuThS' in front of EVERYONE LMAOOO. At first if i was around we'd have dinner together while they'd all talk to each other like best friends aka sickeningly overly friendly while completely IGNORING me while i sat there. i could tolerate it. I WAS PISSED AT THEM TOO Now its too painful. They're having dinner without telling me, yesterday didnt leave enough food for me knowing i hadnt eaten, serve tea/snacks without my portion. i honestly feel so unspeakably trigered nd sad. worst is these things r reminding me of deep school memories when id feel excluded like this by other kids at parties or class activities nd its like im back there. anyway im glad i controled myself a bit nd didnt counter with horrid things abt them to THEM yet they think they can say the same to me. im so hurt rn i cant even tell u lol i was okay the whole week but now its too much,, ive been crying the whole day

thing is, ik this seems like 'im a victim oh noooo they ganged up on meee'. Nope its more like how do i change myself to change them?! u could say why not talk to them how they made u feel, except whenever ive defended myself in the past regarding hurtful things they/anyone in family did, the siblings/parents would say irritating things like: "oh so YOU'RE the one hurt? Oh thats right, its because YOU'RE right! yes, yes, you're always right. Forgive me for saying anything against the perfect person u are." Or one of them says: "You?! I hurt YOU? What about me? You don't care about me! So you think what ur doing is okay?" or "no, who do YOU think u are to tell ME what to do?" it just goes in circles like this! i dont deserve to hurt myself or do smth to myself even if they dont give a damn, even if years of silent suffering of the 'mEntAL pRoBlEms' (which my lovely parents have already told me is my fault years ago, hence why I NEVER show it to them, unless im crying too much then lol they just mock me, but idc abt THAT bcoz now ik i hav a right to let out my emotions)). i mean this is worse rjan usual. its kinda insane nd when guests come they start talking to me as if nothing's wrong then when they leave, they ignore me!

this whole twisted dynamics, feelijf left out nd helpless is ig some crazy assumptin from childhood of being alone nd unable to defend myself. plus when they argye with anyone, they become overly self-righteous nd over the years its clear they can only scream, blame the scapegoat and never talk abt serious matter like normal ppl. And yes, in the past when i bring this up, they like to reply with stuff like: "no YOU'RE the one who doesnt talk to US bla bla" like, when i do u just shut me down? have belittled my mental 'issues', mocked me when im at my worst, stabbed me with cruel silent treatments nd thinking its alright "bcoz of self-righteousness blegh". Or maybe i think its okay for them to punish me? or whatev? Like law says u get what u r. if these ~~~ keep doing this to me, im doubly ashamed to say this means im the one at fault?! i let this monster assunptin grow nd now idk what to do. the worst thing imo is how i failed to tell them,even if they ignored me in the past, how i feel when anything like this or a conflict happens nd none of them stand up for me, or at least are neutral to me. bcoz now if i do, they say nope, u dont care what we do, YOUR the shameless one :! so yeah they hav the advantage of 'numbwrs' while im too afraid to stand up for myself lol. btw they never apologize nd i suspect they expect ME to apologize to TYEM bcoz everything's already ruined bcoz of 'me'..... i give up on them, i really do, but my heart hurts. Either i harden my heart, nd save up to move out, OR i try to change my self or whatev assumptins i have. But how do i do that? i try afirming: "my familys so nice to me, im respected by them" but it feels so fake tears literally enter my eyes lol

firstly i want to say, thank you for coming here to vent and being open about your feelings. it’s so important sometimes to just let it all out, without holding back. so that way you can move forward more bravely, to create the life you truly want to experience. that being said, i am going to be completely honest with you here in hopes that perhaps it may inspire you and you will be ready to do what is needed for the life you truly want to experience.

“BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people?” -> “i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?” here is your question, and here is your answer. i think that being completely honest when venting your feelings can actually be so helpful, because if you read back what you have said, you will be able to clearly find the patterns that are creating your personal hell. FEELING IS THE SECRET. ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO FACT. the true way you feel, becomes your experience. Feelings/assumptions/beliefs come first, and the experiences come second to confirm them. That’s all that’s happening here.

i am glad that you were able to keep your reactions to a minimum! that's wonderful and as many of us know, it can sometimes be hard to do in such hurtful circumstances. but you managed to do it, this shows just a small glimpse of the power you truly hold within. although emotionally you may feel out of control, there is still the choice to choose better for yourself which you demonstrated through your reaction to them. good for you!

the truth is, you acknowledge the victim mindset to seem like you’re not engulfed in it, but no, you’re still very clearly engulfed in it. as i have said before, you can’t be a VICTOR and feel bad about it. feeling bad about taking responsibility, about everyone is you pushed out, about any of these types of concepts automatically shows a victim mindset. talking to them won’t do anything, because there are no second causes. you could talk to them nicely, you could be the nicest person in the world. but you can’t pretend your way out of your inner world. your inner world is the one and only cause of your experiences. until you change the story you tell yourself, they will stay the same. this is a hard pill to swallow sometimes. and it can feel heavily, because it’s ultimately only you’re choice. they can’t change until you do. the heaviness of the situation may make it seem impossible to turn around, but that’s just an illusion. your emotional attachment to the situation makes it seem so real and hard to change, but no. that’s just an illusion too. however, it’s ultimately your choice. Do you want to take responsibility for your life, or do you want to keep being tossed around like your lost at sea, victim to the merciless angry waves? Because we always have a choice. No one chooses your inner world, you do. No one can go into your mind and decide things for you, that’s only your job.

you can harden your heart, but who would be the one who suffers more? It won’t be your family, i can assure you. it’ll only be you. by doing that, you keep that old story alive and therefore you keep experiencing it. you keep those stories alive that are desperately showing themselves to you, saying “LET US GO.” but you remain identified with those painful stories, so you grip onto them tight. you keep on thinking of possible reasons for their behavior, but you could just read your entire ask back to yourself and you’ll see every reason. your reactions, your beliefs about them, your emotional pain. its your refusal to let those things go, and focus on what you truly want that keeps you in this state and keeps them in this state. sure it’s painful to face the responsibility at first, but it’s not a blame game. thinking its about blame is just a misunderstanding of the teachings. it’s not about they’re so perfect and you’re so not, so you have to change your ways. it’s about this is how life works here. this is about... you can ONLY ever experience self. whatever is going on within, will be reflected in your outer world. it’s about how they can’t change, UNTIL YOU DO. so instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you have to decide to give yourself the gift of a wonderful life because you have that power too. you stop deciding they can be in control of your experience, and you decide your experience yourself.

to change your assumptions, stop trying to affirm over them and actually face what’s keeping you from believing in your desires. yeah, it’s going to be painful and uncomfortable. but you need to face the pain that you’re running away from, so that it can finally be released. you have to realize, it only stayed true because you believed it to be true. and if you are to live a life free from that story, and experience a more desirable story, then you must let the pain go. give yourself love and grace as you work through it, and know that there is a more beautiful side of life that awaits for you to accept it in.

No One To Change But Self

There is Nothing to Forgive

How to Sit with Your Triggers

give yourself the time you need, it's not race. the love that you wish to experience exists, allow it in. 💖

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Into My Body, You Just Fold

Floyd Talbert x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, optional!smut (poorly written dirty talk, lite name calling/degradation), OOC Tabbykins, mutual pining, drunken love confessions, Reader has an unfaithful husband (but OMC isn’t the worst), period-typical restrictions of women’s rights, not vv good writing tbh, and no-no words (per usual)

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As terrible a person it made you to admit as much- you didn’t think you could imagine life without Floyd Talbert.

 You’d promised yourself at a young age that you’d never be one of those women who needed a man to complete them, far too disenchanted by the sight of your friends losing their fire and spark upon marrying their husbands. Your father had raised you with the same permissive encouragement as he had your brothers, something that horrified your mother so much that she eventually stopped inviting you to her happy home with her new husband altogether.

Now that you were older you realized that marrying Frederick had been your desperate attempt to win back your mother’s love and approval, much more than your marriage had been for any sort of actual love towards your husband. 

 You’d tried, though. 

Frederick was funny and charming and could get along with anyone. He was driven and supportive, and he always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. You should’ve been able to love him easily and completely.

But you didn’t- You couldn’t when, more often than not, he came home smelling of liquor and another woman. 

Sometimes several other women.

It became abundantly clear to you that, as much as you meant to him, you clearly weren’t enough to keep him from straying.

 Which is why you found your love for someone like Floyd so….unexpected.

 Upon first meeting him you’d hated him, obviously. He was just like Fred, no- he was worse than Fred because at least Frederick made some effort to hide his infidelities from the world. 

If anything, Tab flaunted his conquests like a badge of honor. It made your skin crawl.

Not that your dislike for him did anything to deter him, of course. 

 On the contrary, he seemed to take it as a challenge.

 It also didn’t seem to matter much that you were married. The ring you wore on the same chain as your dog tags seemed to deter any other potential suitors- and if for some reason that didn’t dissuade any overly-confident troopers, your marksmanship and reputation nipped any nonsense in the bud. 

Not Floyd Talbert, though. 

It didn’t matter where you two were- Tab made it his personal mission to win you over. He flirted with you on the boat ride to England, in the plane as it soared towards Normandy, in the middle of a gunfight on the way to Eindhoven. Hell, he’d even tried to charm you while recovering from a stab to his gut.

 The boy was shameless.

 If you had to narrow it down on a timeline, things had become more sincere and less childish in Eindhoven- when you’d gotten mobbed by a group of drunk and curious men who’d wanted to see more of the lone woman sniper of the 506th.

Floyd had appeared from nowhere and helped you wrestle your gun away from one of the idiots who’d attempted to divest you of it. He’d wasted no time in taking his own helmet from his head and placing it onto your own upon realizing that yours had been taken, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you from the throngs of people while you shook from leftover adrenaline.

 He’d kissed you that day after he had been unable to get you to refocus on him and stop you from hyperventilating. 

You’d stood stock still for a few seconds, mind scrambling to process the gentle feeling of his lips on yours as well as the fact that you were no longer tossing in the sea of people you’d been lost in moments ago.

When he’d pulled back, you could only gape at him like an idiot.

 “W-why did you—?”

Floyd’s rough hands had come up to hold your face, taking a deep breath of his own before replying.

“I, uh…” he had stammered for a moment before shaking his head quickly and clearing his throat. “I was trying to get you to snap out of...just trying to get you back.”

 After that, things had progressed pretty quickly.

 He’d stopped seeking out any female company other than yours- not that you’d noticed at the time- spending the few nights of freedom he was afforded with you while you would ritually take apart and clean your rifle, talking with you about anything and everything. He had a knack for making you laugh harder than anyone ever had before.

Sometimes you’d talk about serious things, like your families or past loves or the foolish hopes you both had had before the war.

 Every so often, he’d ask you about Frederick.

 Thinking about Fred made you uncomfortable. Unhappy. 

 But because Floyd had been so honest with you, you tried to be honest with him as well.

No matter how innocently the questions began, they always ended with Floyd furrowing his brows and saying your name softly enough that you couldn’t help but hesitantly meet his imploring gaze. He’d always ask some variation of the same question:

“Why did you marry him?”

 Most nights you didn’t answer. Some nights you were able to deflect the question well enough that eventually you both fell into a different conversation altogether. One night you’d been in a bad mood and snappily asked him an uncomfortable question of your own.

“Why do you have such a hard time keeping it in your pants whenever a pretty girl is around?” 

That always shut him up. And, despite the fact that you could feel the upset rolling from Tab in waves, he never left. 

 That night, you had taken his fist between your hands and uncurled his fingers. You had felt his eyes on you as you purposefully dug your thumbs into his palm to ease the tension you found, eventually turning his hand over so you could carefully trace your fingertips over his war-calloused knuckles.

“That was unkind,” you had whispered, guilt churning your stomach when at the hurt you knew you had caused. His grey-blue eyes were curious as you hesitantly looked up at him, and once you had met his gaze you’d almost lost your train of thought.  “I’m sorry, Tab.”

 You hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you again, but even as he had you didn’t immediately stop him. 

It was only when he had started to pull you closer that you quickly pulled away. Your breathing had become heavy, and while you didn’t let go of his hand you still said his name admonishingly under your breath. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” you’d whispered, unable to look at him and electing to look at your feet as you brought your hand up to press your fingertips against your still-tingling lips. “You- you know I’m….you know why I can’t—”

“I know,” Floyd’s voice was low, and despite the fact that you weren’t looking at him you’d been able to see the grimace on his face. “I just….I know. I’m sorry, Y/N”

You’d cleared your throat, pulling your hand away from his and giving him a tight smile. 

“No need to apologize. Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”

Without waiting for his response, you’d gone back to the table where you had been working on your gun, desperate for a distraction.

“So, uh, what was it that you were saying about your brother? He’s graduating high school soon?”

 Despite Floyd’s willingness to play along, you had been unable to stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. You wondered if this was what happened to Frederick- if this rush of adrenaline after doing something you shouldn’t was what he was chasing each time he went home with someone else.

You’d never known guilt could be so heady. In that moment, you’d started to realize just how dangerous this friendship with Tab could be.

But even then, you’d also had a sinking feeling that you weren’t going to be able to give him up, That you were no better than Frederick.

Taking your oiled rag back into your hands, you’d scrubbed the metal o-ring of your piston and tried not to think too hard about what this revelation said about you.

~

It had been during a 48-hour pass that he’d asked the question about Fred for the very last time, after you’d each finished a bottle of sweet French wine while sitting on the floor between two beds of the hotel room.

That night, you’d given him a sad smile and gestured half-heartedly with your canteen as you brought it to your lips.

 “Because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Because…. I didn't think I was allowed to say no.”

He’d stared at you sadly, clenching his jaw a few times before clearing his throat and letting his head loll back to rest against the side of the bed. 

 “Ask me again.”

 You’d frowned at him, confused as to what he was asking you to say. Your silence must’ve given away your lack of understanding, because he laughed humorlessly before closing his eyes.

“

Ask me why I can’t keep it in my pants….'round pretty girls….”

“Oh-kay…?” you’d said slowly, leaning back and stretching your legs out in front of you. “Why can’t you keep it in your pants?”

 With a bit more effort than it probably should’ve taken, Tab twisted his body so the back of his head was resting in your lap, the strands of his hair ticking the skin of your thighs where your sleep shorts had bunched up.

 “Same fuckin’ reasons.”

 In the dim light of the hotel room, you’d been the one to kiss him, your lips trembling with heartbreak on his behalf and complex (if not unbidden) emotion. Floyd sat up so you weren’t having to hunch your body over to reach him, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifted your bodies so neither of you had to strain to reach the other. Despite Floyd being Floyd- he didn’t kiss you greedily, the plush of his mouth soft as it followed your gentle rhythm without any sign of wanting more than you were willing to give. 

 Once he’d realized that you had begun to cry, Tab broke the kiss carefully, and he had reached a gentle hand up to brush your tears away, a sad smile crossing his face.

“Now, isn’t that a sight?” he’d whispered. “Never had a girl cry for me before. Don’t think I like it much…’specially when that girl’s you.”

 He’d allowed you to cry for him, allowed you to cry for yourself and all of the hurt and pain you’d been holding inside of your chest for what felt like decades. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you had woken up the next morning you felt his fingers combing through your clean hair as you both lay sprawled out together on the floor. At some point, one or both of you had pulled the bedding from the bed’s mattresses and tangled yourselves in the soft fabric.

 “Is it bad that I wish I’d met you first?” Floyd had asked, his voice a warm rumble as you rested your head on his chest.

“Yeah,” you’d admitted, scratching your nails lightly across his shirt-covered stomach. “But I’m much worse for agreeing with you.”

 As he turned his body so he was leaning over you, his hand came up to rest on your collarbone while his eyes danced across your face.

 “You’re beautiful….too beautiful to be ruined by someone like me, I think.”

You’d frowned, bringing one of your hands up to trace his mouth with your fingertips.

“Oh, Floyd- you can’t ruin what was already spoiled.”

 Tab then lowered himself so his nose brushed against yours, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Can’t I?”

~

Even thinking about it now broke your heart.

Now, nearly two years after the war had ended.

Now, living in the house you’d once shared with Frederick.

Now, as you lay in bed and watched Floyd brush his teeth in the bathroom of the home you shared.

 Fred had last written to you five months ago, telling you that he was probably going to be in Japan for at least another six months before he could even apply to come back to the states. 

Despite the fact that he claimed his senior ranking in the Navy and his responsibilities to oversee prisoner exchanges were the ‘sole reason for his prolonged absence, you knew that it was probably more a case of him not wanting to return to a life of expected monogamy that kept him away.

Not that you minded one bit.

Not when you had Floyd.

 You hadn’t expected him to want to stay with you, in the literal sense or in the more metaphorical sense of commitment, yet he’d barely let you finish your offer before he agreed emphatically.

If you were truly being honest with yourself, you hadn’t imagined that he’d even want to stay after you’d slept with him the first time, shortly after returning to the states. 

 But he had. He had stayed.

 You’re ripped from your thoughts when you realize that the sound of Floyd brushing his teeth has stopped, and when you shook yourself from your trance you realized that he had caught you staring at him. Judging by the smug look on his face, he’d finished getting ready for bed a while ago, and when you begin to blush he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the doorframe.

 “You know, ma’am,” he smirks as you clear your throat and pick at your nails embarrassedly. “It’s not wise to stare at a man like that unless you’re willing to face the consequences….”

You snort a laugh despite yourself, furrowing your brows and looking back to him with a dumb grin on your face. “Oh yeah? And what consequences would those be, Sir?” 

His eyes darken with a flash, having made it very clear long ago how much he liked it when you called him that. You cannot help but smirk at his clear shift in arousal.

 He pinches his bottom lip as he considers you- something that you couldn’t deny made your heart race with dark promise. Wetting your own lips, you lean back onto your elbows and watch him watch you.

Quirking his brow, he tilts his head and pushes himself from the doorframe to stalk to the foot of the bed and brace his arms against the mattress so he’s nearly leering at you.

 “Oh Lovely, I think I’m gonna have to show rather than tell.”

~Smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

You shook your head in amusement, a smile breaking across your lips as he crawled his way up your body- his softening hands smoothing your silky nightgown up your thighs and stomach as he did so. A low, pleased curse rumbled low in his throat at your lack of underwear, smiling against your skin as he ducked down to kiss your hips and soft stomach while completing his journey.

 “I knew it was only a matter of time before I convinced you to stop wearing underwear to bed,” he says warmly, encouraging your thighs over his own while he kneels between your legs.

You can’t help but scoff at the wording of his observation.

“Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling ruining all of my expensive undergarments with your impatience, then yes Floyd, you’ve thoroughly convinced me to forgo underwear.”

 With an easy familiarity, Tab slips his hands under your nightdress and ghosts his blunt fingernails over the swell of your breasts, smirking at the goosebumps his touch elicits across your bare skin.

You lift your shoulders off of the bed enough to bring the bunched-up nightdress up and over your head before tossing it somewhere on the floor beside you, allowing your eyes to drift shut as he bows his head to kiss at your nipples in near-reverence. His hands map the rest of your body in a cycle that only he can predict, the sound of his skin brushing against yours paired with the warmth of his palms and mouth relaxing you in a way that no hot bath or soft bed ever could.

Floyd groans as you rake your fingers through his hair, allowing you to guide his face up to yours for a slow, imploring kiss before one of his hands slips in between your legs and massages at the lips of your sex.

 “Was I taking too long, Sweetheart?” he asks against your lips, his voice growing rough with need. “How long have you been this wet?”

 You don’t answer, choosing rather to roll your hips into his touch. Your breath catches in your throat at the first swirl of his middle finger over your clit, something that he does again with a smug hum against your lips.

 “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he reassures you as he wets his cock with your arousal. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it all better.”

 Whoever said that slow sex couldn’t also be filthy had clearly never met Floyd Talbert.

 By the time he’s flipping you onto your stomach, you’ve been brought to the teetering precipice of release three times- his mouth and fingers and cock working you up while he kissed the sweetest admonishments into your skin. Tab called you needy, cockhungry, and wicked- all while kissing across your skin with such a sweet contrast to his words that it made your head spin.

When he finally, finally pulls your hips up and begins to piston into you, you’re already so delirious for him that you are pleading for him to let you cum- something that only serves to make him grip your hips harder and groan in anticipation. 

 “Dirty girl,” he grits out as he bends enough that his forehead can rest between your bunched shoulder blades, the line between admonishment and praise blurring headily as you feel that familiar flutter building in your lower belly. “Are you going to come for me? Can feel you shaking for me like a good little whore….”

You barely have to ask for more before he grips your sex possessively with one of his hands, your orgasm tearing through you and stealing your breath as well as your capabilities for speech.

 Floyd, whose curse is drowned out by the rush of blood to your ears, follows you quickly over the edge- grinding out as much of his own release as he can in between your legs before collapsing atop you. 

Almost as an afterthought, Tab slips himself from your body, rolling to lay beside you as you both come down from your highs.

 “So good,” you’re barely aware of him panting out. “You’re so fucking good, Y/N….”

You blindly reach out to drape your arm across his waist, incapable of returning the praise just yet.

He knows, though. You know he does by the way he sighs happily beside you.

~End of smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

~

“Y/N?”

You look down your body to where Floyd's head rests in the valley between your ribs, your fingers having been lazily combing through his overgrown hair for the past twenty minutes. 

“Hm?” you reply, your other hand snapping out to grab one of the pillows near the top of the bed and folding it beneath your head so you can watch him.

Turning his head to press a kiss on your skin, he looks up at you lazily. When you smile down at him, he returns with a content grin of his own.

 “Can I ask you something?”

Raising an eyebrow, you narrow your eyes teasingly. “I don’t know, Floyd….can you?”

You nearly shriek when his fingers dig into your sides, rolling your lips together in an attempt to quiet your laughter as Floyd bestows biting kisses up your sternum while you wriggle beneath him. 

“You’re such a brat sometimes,” he grumbles as he takes your face in his hands, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. “Lucky for you that you’re a good lay….”

Rolling your eyes, you nod your chin at him.

 “Just ask me already, you jerk.”

 His wicked expression softens, eyes scanning your face as you look up at him. The beginnings of a knot start to twist in your stomach, feeling the first drops of anxiety begin to stain your blood.

 “Floyd…..what’s wrong?” you ask, not liking the way he suddenly electing to look at your mouth rather than into your eyes. “Is everything—?”

“Would you ever marry me?”

 Your eyes widen at that. That had certainly not been what you were expecting him to ask you.

 Taking in a deep breath, you consider his words for a bit before answering immediately.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him, because you did. No, what gave you pause was all that marrying him would entail- the greatest obstacle being that you were already married, and unless more things had changed in post-war America than you realized, polyandry was still illegal. Not to mention the fact that, upon marrying Fred, anything you had once been able to call your own was now- at least legally speaking- his.

 You didn’t even have any right to the house you and Floyd had been living in. It, along with everything inside of it including you, was Frederick’s in both name and law.

And that was what scared you the most- the idea that, should you divorce Fred, you’d be penniless. Homeless. Destitute. You would have nothing.

But, as you looked into the blue eyes of the man you loved more than anything in this world, you realized that you wouldn’t mind any of that at all.

 Because you’d have Floyd Talbert.

 With a heavy sigh, you sit up so he doesn’t have to lean over you any more- taking his face in your hands and giving him a smile.

“I’d have nothing to offer you, you know.” You grin a little wider at the confusion on his face, brushing your fingertips over his bottom lip as you continued. “No savings or car or house for you to come home to at the end of a long day?”

 As the wrinkle in his brow smooths, you know that he knows what you’re really asking him. Bringing his own hand up to mess with the ends of your loose hair, he pouts for a moment.

 “Hmm, that’s a tough call, Y/N,” he says with a faux seriousness, tilting his head consideringly and narrowing his eyes at you. “I really like this bed frame—”

You nod, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing. “It’s a nice bed frame-”

“And the mattress? Best thing I’ve ever slept on.”

“I’m sure. All that built-in lumbar support cost a pretty penny, too.”

 Smirking openly now, Tab brushes his nose against yours. “Still not the best thing in the house, though. I’ve gotta say, the pretty girl who lives in it takes the cake in that regard.”

Cupping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull him in for a deep kiss, the both of you almost clicking your teeth together several times because of the stupid smiles on your faces. When you pull back, you peck a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before sitting back enough to look him full in the face.

“If I could, I’d have married you already.”

 The smile he gives you is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Yeah?” he presses, biting his bottom lip like an excited kid.

“Yeah, Floyd. I really would.”

“Good,” he says simply, carefully slipping from your grip enough to shift back down so he’s resting his head on your stomach. “Maybe I’ll ask you one of these days.”

 Looking down at him fondly, you let yourself lay back so you can grin up at the ceiling.

 “Who knows, Floyd Talbert,” you say quietly, heart feeling so full it could burst. “Maybe I’ll even say yes.”

 “Good.” he grumbles.

“Good.” you agree.

~ ~ ~

(HELLO YIKES AND SORRY MY DUDES I’M PMSING AND DEEP IN MY FEELS BUT THANKS FOR SOLDIERING THROUGH THIS PILE OF YUCK!)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

[inkmyname]

The Ember Island Players: performing toxic masculinity and narrative complicity in propagating misogyny

Initially I wasn’t going to respond to concerns about Katara’s racist/misogynistic portrayal in the Ember Island Players with anything more than snarky tags, but apparently I can’t keep my mouth shut, so I’m posting my response as a standalone meta about how the writers’ insistence on creating drama for drama’s sake leads them to--in lieu of actual character development--fall back on lazy narrative shortcuts whereby a performance of toxic masculinity against a gendered heternormative background is used to create tension in a romantic relationship, presumably with the goal of keeping the audience invested.

The Ember Island Players is problematic for a lot of reasons, not least of which is the pervasive tone-deaf misogyny, including racialized misogyny, directed at Katara. There’s a lot of meta on this, so I’d like to focus on something different: Aang’s relationship with gender and romantic attachments.

Aang seems so uncharacteristically chagrined the whole episode: “I’m not a woman!” Based on his previous characterization up to this point:

The Fortuneteller. This is the same Aang who makes a necklace for Katara when she loses her mother’s. Observe how he responds to Sokka’s jibe about jewelry-making, which can be seen as a feminine pursuit: Sokka: Great, Aang. Maybe instead of saving the world, you can go into the jewelry-making business. Aang: I don’t see why I can’t do both. Femininity isn’t presented as being mutually exclusive with narrative pursuits like saving the world which have traditionally centered male protagonists (especially if we take the entire canon of anything every written in any genre that’s not specifically, say, something like shoujo or jounen which are directed and young girls and women, the narrative focus on male personalities is overwhelming).

The Warriors of Kyoshi. Oh, and this is the same Aang that dressed up in full Kyoshi gear, kabuki makeup and all, without complaint. Why would he? After all, she was him in a past life. (There’s a whole meta here about gender-critical analysis of kabuki productions where male actors typically assumed female roles and how Avatar both takes inspiration from this real-life kernel and subverts it in Rise of Kyoshi where Kyoshi’s signature look is not only an homage to her parental heritage but also a reimagining of who can inhabit what roles. Her legacy, though imperfect, is also notably feminist, taking face paint worn typically by men IRL and expanding it into war paint for women warriors.) (There’s also great headcanon-adjacent meta here about gender non-conformity and non-binary identities in Avatar. Avatar was not overtly explicit about its feminist or gender-progressive mindset outside of episodes like The Warriors of Kyoshi or The Waterbending Master, but it was still way ahead of its time. If anyone was to be presented or headcanoned in such a way, it would be the Avatar who’s lived a thousand lives, inhabiting a thousand skins and a thousand identities, including gender identities. There’s also cool crossover meta here about the Legend of Korra depicting a female Avatar in Korra with masculine tendencies and visible muscle vs Aang as a male Avatar with a gentler pacifistic spirit and gender nonconforming tendencies.)

The Cave of Two Lovers. Aang wears a freaking flower crown and is generally wholesome and adorable, even leading up to the “let’s kiss lest we die” scene with Katara. He’s not pushy or overly concerned with appearing masculine and it is in fact Katara who suggests the kiss and Aang makes a fool of himself. From the transcript: Katara [Shyly, blushing.] Well, what if we … kissed? Aang [Very surprised.] Us … kissing‌? Katara See? It was a crazy idea. Aang [Dreamily.] Us … kissing … Katara [Fake-jokingly.] Us kissing. What was I thinking? Can you imagine that‌? Aang [Fake-jokingly.] Yeah. [Awkwardly laughs.] I definitely wouldn’t want to kiss you! [Beat.] Katara [Insulted.] Oh, well! I didn’t realize it was such a horrible option. [Angrily.] Sorry I suggested it! Aang [Realizing his mistake.] No, no, I mean … if there was a choice between kissing you and dying … Katara [Disgusted.] Ugh! Aang [Desperately.] What? I’m saying is I would rather kiss you than die - that’s a compliment. Katara [Enraged.] Well, I’m not sure which I’d rather do! [Slams the torch into his hand and storms away.] Aang [Miserably.] What is wrong with me … Aang, sweetie, this is not what you say to a girl you want to kiss, but generally, this is Wholesome™ and narratively, this is Good™. Eventually, they do kiss and that’s perfectly acceptable because there’s a whole conversation beforehand with humorous romantic framing. There’s consent and communication and initiative by the female protagonist. So solid A on the sensitive writing.

General Air Nomad culture. We don’t get a lot of Air Nomad culture in the show (and what little we do get what presented in such a misguided way, especially the whole commitment to forgiveness/pacifism which was handled in such an amateur black-and-white way from a writing perspective in season 3). But I digress. I really, really don’t think that Air Nomads who were so concerned with the spiritual side of bending and general existence had stringent notions of gender and romantic relationships–at the very least, they had very different notions of these issues compared to, say, the Northern Water Tribe. Canonically, even though AN philosophy emphasized detachment, Air Nomads practiced free love. Same-gender romance was freely accepted unlike in the homophobic Earth Kingdom (which even Kyoshi, a bisexual woman, wasn’t able to change) and the militant Fire Nation (Sozin outlawed homosexuality after declaring world war, essentially). And though the temples were gender-segregated, it seems that the burden of raising children fell to the entire community instead of just the women. Both male and female Air Nomads are revered. In the case of the former, Guru Laghima who unlocked the power of flight through achieving complete detachment from the material world. And in the case of the latter, Avatar Yangchen, who has statues everywhere because she came to be revered as a deity not just among Air Nomads but in the physical world in general. Nowhere in Air Nomad philosophy is the concept of gender, romance, love, sexuality, relationships etc. etc. tainted with jealousy and possessiveness (especially towards women) or rigid binary heternormativity.

So this was Aang for the better part of the first half of the series. Not overly concerned with gender roles. Pretty much fumbling his way through his first crush like a lovesick puppy and it’s all very wholesome. Supposedly a classic product of Air Nomad upbringing.

Meanwhile, Aang in EIP:

Checks out Katara’s butt as she’s sitting down.

Gets mad at being portrayed by a woman.

Accuses Katara of being the racialized misogynistic version of herself depicted on stage ([sarcastically]“Yeah, that’s not you at all.”).

Nods in agreement when the misogynistic stage production of Katara presents her as the “Avatar’s girl.”

Unable to differentiate between fiction and reality and puts the onus on Katara to do the emotional labor to justify something she never said (”Katara, did you really mean what you said in there? On stage, when you said I was just like a … brother to you, and you didn’t have feelings for me.”)

Assumes they would just… fall into a relationship… just because he forcibly kissed her at the invasion and again pressures Katara to do the emotional labor to justify why their relationship is not how he wants it (“But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.” / “Aang, I don’t know.” / “Why don’t you know?”)

Forces a non-consensual kiss on her even though “I just said I was confused!”

So, there’s so many things wrong with this, most of which are a laundry list of behaviors typical of toxic masculinity:

Ogling

Outdated misogynistic humor (what’s wrong with being a woman?)

Verbal abuse

Offloading emotional labor

Gaslighting

Pressuring a potential romantic partner

Lack of direct communication about romantic desires

Lack of sensitivity

Lack of active listening

Lack of emotional intelligence and empathy

Lack of consent and sexual assault

I could go on and on.

My question is Where and when did he learn these toxic behaviors? What happened to the wholesome boy making necklaces, wearing flower crowns, and generally being adorable in a kid with a first crush kind of way when it comes to romance?

Now, you can argue that EIP players Aang has been through a lot, including being shot by lightning and actually dying, and after the failed invasion, he’s stressed out with the weight of the world on his shoulders and maybe not expressing himself or his desires in the best way and taking out all of his frustrations on Katara.

Except… that is all just conjecture because the actual writing of the show doesn’t put in the hard work and make those connections. Instead, they fall back on misogynistic tropes and toxic heternormative romance tropes and a forced love triangle subtext and they just, to put it politely, fuck it up, two and a half seasons’ worth of work, gone, in the space of one episode. And even if it weren’t conjecture, it would still be wrong of Aang to act the way he did.

Let’s list Aang and Katara’s interaction in relation to each other in season 3:

The Headband. “Don’t worry about them. It’s just you and me right now,” Aang says as he pulls Katara into a dance. I have qualms about the writing of this episode: the creators wasted a golden opportunity to flesh out the Air Nomad genocide because they were too busy playing footloose in a cave, they wrote Katara–the same Katara would said fuck you to Pakku, freed enslaved earthbenders from a Fire Navy prison, and became a spirit goddess ecoterrorist to help a village in an enemy nation–as uncharacteristically shy just so Aang could sweep in and pull her into a dance. But like fine, whatever. It’s cute and really well-chreographed and there’s actually appropriate romantic framing here for once and at the end of the dance, look at Katara’s face–she’s happy! Positive Kataang interaction, and I don’t actually mind it. 7/10.

The Day of Black Sun Pt.1. He forces a kiss on her on the mouth, taking her completely by surprise. A chaste kiss on the cheek and a wistful pining last look and “Be safe” might have been acceptable, but given Katara’s shocked and uncomfortable body language, the kiss on the mouth was not. Worse yet, the show just… forgets… to follow up on it for several episodes and when it’s brought up again, it’s used as a sledgehammer to punish Katara for not magically being with Aang. 0/10.

The Painted Lady. Let’s look at the transcript: Katara [Using a disguised voice.] Well, hello Avatar. I wish I could talk, but I am very busy. Aang Yeah, me too. I hate that. [Looks at Katara’s face from behind the veil.] You know, you’re really pretty, for a spirit. I don’t meet too many spirits, but the ones I do meet, not very attractive. [Looks at Katara suspiciously. Tries to look under the hat.] Katara [Giggles nervously.] Thank you, but- Aang You seem familiar too. Katara A lot of people say that. Aang [Suspicious.] No, you really seem familiar. Katara Look, I really should get going. [Covers her face and runs, but Aang uses his airbending and blasts her hat up into the air, exposing her.] Aang Katara? Katara [Guiltily.] Hi, Aang. Aang [Shocked.] You’re the Painted Lady? [Pointing at Katara.] But how?Katara I wasn’t her at first, I was just trying to help the village. [Takes her hat off.] But since everyone thought that’s who I was anyway, I guess I just kinda became her. [Drops her hat on the ground.] Aang So you’ve been sneaking out at night? Wait, is Appa even sick?Katara He might be sick of the purple berries I’ve been feeding him, but other than that he’s fine! Aang I can’t believe you lied to everyone, so you could help these people. Katara I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have … Aang [Happily.] No, I think it’s great! You’re like a secret hero! Katara Well, if you wanna help, there’s one more thing I have to do. Aang gives her a curious look. Cut to the Fire Nation factory. Aang and Katara run along the river’s edge toward it. Aang looks at the polluted water. Aang You wanna destroy this factory? Katara Yes. Sokka was just kidding, but he was right. Getting rid of this factory is the only way to help these people permanently. He helps her blow up the Fire Nation smelting plant! Yes, he does call her pretty, but more importantly, this is one of the few times he acknowledges her faults (lying, deception, putting the mission at risk to help the enemy nation etc.) and still thinks she’s so fucking cool. He calls her a secret hero! There’s a lot of admiration and support here from Aang. He’s raising up Katara (instead of putting her down as in EIP) not because he sees her as a potential love interest but because he admires her and her compassion! This is great. Solid wholesome Kataang interaction. 10/10. But all good things must come to an end…

The Southern Raiders. I’m not going to spend too much time on this because there’s a million pieces of meta on this episode. He’s completely out of line asking Katara to be forgive her mother’s killer, the source of her greatest trauma as a victim of targeted ethnic cleansing. Given that he’s a victim of ethnic genocide himself, although he personally wasn’t there for it/didn’t actually witness it unlike Katara, he should have understood. He does say “You need to face this man,” which is good and supportive and he should have stopped there, because he continues on to say, “But when you do, please don’t choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.” Stop. Stop stop stop. No one should tell a traumatized victim of ethnic cleansing how to deal with their trauma. By the end of the episode, Katara doesn’t kill him–but she crafts a third path as the conclusion to her hero’s journey and it is not the path of forgiveness that Aang preaches. Ironically, it is Zuko, who also confronts Ozai, the source of his greatest trauma, who never tells Katara what to do but follows her lead instead: even though he redirects lightning at Ozai and could have killed him, he doesn’t go through with it. He understands Katara and he understands that she needs to this. Kataang interaction rating: 0/10.

So that’s where we are with Aang and Katara in Ember Island Players. Some positive interactions that are appropriately romantically framed and some that are just wholesome and good… but all ruined by forced kissing and moralizing about Katara’s trauma instead of offering understanding. So that still doesn’t answer when Aang would have learned all of the toxic masculine/heternormative behaviors he displayed in The Ember Islands Players.

The only answer, I’m forced to conclude, is bad fucking writing, where the creators were not only tone-deaf in portraying Katara in a racist/misogynistic way or, you know, in writing solely for the male gaze because fuck half the audience, I guess, but they just wanted to create drama for drama’s sake. They completely disrespected their female lead and I would argue they disrespected Aang’s character too in making him a stereotypical self-insert Gary Stu who displays toxic masculine behavior without consequences because that’s what’s expected of a toxic heternormative romantic plot device.

And worse yet, they never follow up on this, just like with the kiss at the Invasion. In the last five minutes of the finale, Katara looks up at him with admiration for saving the world and then kisses him. This is not only a missed opportunity for character development for Aang, but also a big fuck you to the female audience because the message is clear: the guy gets the girl as a trophy for saving the world, and fuck input from the female half of the partnership because that’s just not important and is not worthy of screentime. But I guess screentime dedicated to displaying toxic masculine/heternormative behaviors without ever condemning such behavior as a follow-up is just fine! :)))

If the EIP was supposed to make an argument for Kataang, then it failed. but more important:

By the show’s own high standards, The Ember Island Players is a failed episode, full of bad writing and worse characterization. For a show that was so ahead of its time, this episode is a narrative black mark, a failure of progressive representation and a disservice to its main characters.

There’s some wholesome Sukka and Zuko/Toph interaction, but even that doesn’t manage to save this episode, especially given there’s no resolution to the central conflict: the relationship between Aang and Katara. The entire unnecessarily OOC and forced Kataang drama drags it down.

We know Aang is capable of lifting up Katara and being supportive of her, as he was in episodes prior. We could have had honest, supportive, and open dialogue between Aang and Katara that actually followed up on the Invasion kiss, with Aang clearly expressing what he wants, Katara expressing that maybe she didn’t want that right now, and Aang completely respecting that and them hugging at the end because their friendship/connection is much more profound than pre-teen romance. This is an instance where Aang could have chosen to center Katara’s feelings, for once, instead of his own out of selfless love. If this happened, I would have been okay with a Kataang ending. But that isn’t what we got, obviously.

Part of what appealed to me about Aang as a male protagonist in media aimed at young audiences is that he–at least initially–did not start out as a toxic self-insert Gary Stu lifted from every problematic heternormative romance film ever. In fact, given his playful trickster archetype, general kindness/gentleness, and his stance against violence (a typically masculine trait), he both subverted expectations of and expanded the boundaries of what a male protagonist in children’s media can look like. Unfortunately, the creators don’t go all the way with Aang. In fact, they took a step back with his portrayal in The Ember Island Players, where the creators not only rely on misogynistic tropes to create drama but also make him complicit in propagating said misogyny. And that’s just a damn shame because we could have had a wholesome Kataang storyline and a sensitive male protagonist who cares not about your outdated gender roles and respects his partner’s autonomy!

[theflashdriver]

Summer Nights (A Silvaze Fanfic)

This evening’s predicament was a creeping inevitability the Blaze had been powerless to escape. She had been unable to perceive its advancement directly, but the princess had monitored the gradually mounting evidence. More often than not, she’d arrive in one of the palace’s rooms only to find its windows were already open. On her rare ventures into town, she’d found the streets mired by ice-cream vendors and citizens wielding frozen treats. Even the lengthening of days had made her aware of the change occurring.

But, of course, Southern Island’s summer shift in temperature had been most obvious to Blaze through her partner. Silver the hedgehog was many things but subtle wasn’t one of them. The psychic didn’t whine often, only when he was seriously perplexed, but his emotions tended to manifest themselves in other ways. He’d smile so radiantly whenever he was happy, shout so casually in defiance of injustices, hide his tears so poorly and blush whenever she dared to pierce his armour of obliviousness.

For the past week he’d fought the heat, trying his hardest to appear unphased. She’d aided in his consumption of a frankly unhealthy volume of ice-cream, numerous quarts per day, and spent far more time with him in the island’s waters than she could truly spare. Watching him revert from being over excited to wear clothes, donning comfortable hoodies that she’d happily steal and owning a slightly overlarge wardrobe, to a mostly unclothed state had certainly been an experience. These were mere quirks though, surface level changes in his nature that she could easily overlook. He’d gone through similar phases before, when the psychic had first arrived in her world he’d spent night after night sleeping atop a hill and watching the stars.

Tonight however, regardless of the hedgehog’s apparent attempts to dull his reaction, Blaze couldn’t ignore his irregularity. He’d tried his hardest to lie still for a good full hour only to ease gently up and flip his pillow before returning to resume their spooning. During the hour that followed, Blaze had felt him shift away from her in the tiniest and most awkwardly slight of increments until his arms had been reaching for the feline rather than holding her. He’d eventually dared, after much trepidation and in the gentlest manner possible, to completely release her before cautiously shifting into a back to back position. He’d even pealed the covers from himself and carefully bundled them against the princess, leaving himself fully exposed.

Her silk sheets were thin, the balcony door was ajar and there was some space between them, but she supposed those boons were being undercut by the palace’s lack of air conditioning and her own body. Silver was clearly too hot to sleep. It was a phenomenon that Blaze understood, albeit one that she was incapable of personally experiencing.

Across her life, the downsides of her pyrokinetic condition had been far more blatant than the positives. Tonight’s hindsight had hardly made up for that, but it had granted her a greater insight into her partner and the world at large. In one peculiar aspect, she was fortunate; her affinity for flames kept her body naturally hot so the changing of seasons mostly went unfelt. Just as snowflakes would evaporate whenever they sought refuge within her fur, the warm air that surrounded them was cool in comparison to her natural temperature. It took a serious change to phase her, like the enveloping embrace of the sea or the unequivocal presence of lava, but such feelings would quickly fade once she reached some form of sanctity.

A sigh escaped hedgehog behind her, soon followed by the second soft pillow flip of the night. Despite the modicum of amusement she got from this whole ordeal, maintaining her current sleeping façade felt cruel. He had been so delicate in all his shifts, clearly concerned for her sleep more than his overheating. The past month had been busy, she’d been making public appearances and spent hours in meetings daily, and he’d clearly picked up on that. His concern had been palpable in recent evenings and it’d manifested in a handful of ways. Finding that dinner would be ready just as work ended, the overly common offer of a back rub and his willingness to lounge with her in the evenings rather than go stargazing had made it all so very clear.

A yawn broke through her lips and, in its wake, she decided to speak, “You know, if you’re too hot, you don’t have to sleep here, Silver.”

“I-I’m sorry, have I kept you up?” He quickly apologised, panic plain in his tone.

“You’re so naïve,” She hummed, rolling over only to find that his back was still too her, “I can tell that you’re struggling; how could I possibly sleep with that being the case?”

“Sorry,” He glumly repeated, “It’s just too hot. I can’t sleep.”

“I could tell as much,” Blaze reiterated, growing a smirk.

“But I don’t want to leave either, it doesn’t feel right,” The hedgehog quickly continued, “If I can handle all we have up until now, I should be able to sleep through a little bit of heat.”

“You should, but I can’t imagine lying next to me is helping,” Her curiosity had been piqued by his later statement, “Actually, what is the difference between tonight and the future we shared? Surely if you could sleep there then here should be far easier.”

“Well, um,” He finally rolled over and Blaze had to hold back a snicker at the sight of him, “I’m not sure how to describe it,” The hedgehog’s quills half covered his face and the heat was plain on his cheeks, “The city was dry and hot but here it’s wet and hot. There’s a massive difference.”

“Lava ran through the streets. Even I could feel it,” She reached across, improving his vision with a single brush of her hand, “How can this possibly be worse?”

“It’s the sweat to be honest. I’m just not used to sweating like this, I’m not even doing anything. In the future I was always exhausted to and that made sleep come easily, I’ve not come remotely close to battling monsters today,” That was true, any moment of true peace in their prior life had quickly led to sleep, “Sweating helped in the city, but it just doesn’t here. I’m soaking and it’s keeping me wide awake.”

“I know I’m not helping with that,” She watched him frown at her claim and felt herself swallow. Despite how pessimistic she could be about her abilities; the time traveller was always positive. That was why he hadn’t left, it made total sense and so completely suited him. That was what this was about, nothing else. It was such an unabashedly naïve mentality, and foolishly blunt, but so purely him, “Silver…”

“I’m not leaving you. I know there are guest rooms but that’s not the point,” He grumbled, flipping onto his back to stare at the ceiling, “I just have to get used to it, that’s all.”

With that shift, his quills had gotten even messier. Beneath the frustration at his physical situation, it was clear to Blaze the he was mentally toiling too. The hedgehog cared so very openly, so wholeheartedly, that she couldn’t help but grin, despite how silly he was being. She’d fallen in love with him for a variety of reasons, not the least of them being how staunchly he’d advocate for her birth right of flames. Even when she’d tried to smother them, even when she’d rather forget them, he’d always been so positive about them. That same positivity had led to prior situations similar to this, whether she’d accidentally burnt a meal or the hedgehog himself, he’d never speak badly of her power.

Despite knowing the discomfort it might bring, tender as she could be, Blaze scooted across the bedsheets to lie closer to him. Her hand breached the bedsheets and fingertips arrived to pace through his chest fur, finding it more unkempt than usual. Even though the moon was far from shining through the balcony doors, the princess could see her partner almost perfectly in the teal glow of his cyan palms. Everything from his sun kissed muzzle to the length of his nose to the furrow of his brow as he attempted to ignore the embarrassment born both from his foolishness and her new position.

That look prompted her to move even closer. Through the dark, her lips found his cheek and softly pressed against it. Even if she couldn’t sense it through the air, Blaze could feel his warmth on her lips. He was sweaty too but, compared to lip-lock following a spar or a serious battle, the hedgehog was frankly sweet. Still, that confirmation made her all the more interesting in what he was feeling.

“What’s does it feel like?” She pried.

“W-Warm, gentle, soft…” He mumbled, his hand rising to rub his cheek, “Wonderful.”

Her once small grin caved inward, generating a blush and drew out her serious tone, “Not the kiss, temperature. Being hot or cold or somewhere in between, all at the whim of the weather, how does it feel?”

“Oh, um,” His embarrassment grew, even in the dark his redness was palpable. Atop his misunderstanding, Silver had clearly never considered how to explain what he was feeling, “It’s uncomfortable now but it’s nice a lot of the time. Catching a cold wind on a day like today is wonderful, feeling its rustle through my fur is refreshing like a good night’s sleep. On a chilly day I almost feel attracted to warmth, I bundle closer to you because it feels like I’ve escaped the cold and found safety,” He managed to say, “I don’t think I can explain it properly but when it’s too cold you want to be hot and when it’s too hot you want to be cold, you seek out what you don’t have. My fur is white so it helps reflect the sun but doesn’t help with heat like this.”

“I see,” She hummed, muting her prior outburst, “So weather can make things more difficult but causes perhaps otherwise simple things to bring you joy?”

“Yeah, cold things feel good on hot days, hot things feel good on cold days,” He succinctly put, his yellow eyes finally settling on her face, “Being with you on cold nights makes this more than worth it. I’d endure a hundred hot days for a single cold one with you.”

“You don’t have to, you can spend a hot night or two in another room and I’ll still be here in the winter,” She caught herself speaking too quickly again. Just as she’d embarrassed him, he’d managed to slip beyond her stoicism and take a firm grasp on her heartstrings, “You’re so naïve.”

“What’s it like for you? Can you even tell that tea is hot? Are cold drinks the same as warm ones for you?” He followed up.

“Oh, I can tell when a drink is ice cold and a meal is piping hot,” She quickly confirmed before falling prey to greater speculation, “Though, I suppose the difference may not be as pronounced as how you feel it. Perhaps my threshold for what’s acceptable greatly differs,” They were getting off topic, “Regardless, it takes an exceptional change in our surroundings for me to feel what you are now. To experience what you are, I’d have to sleep in an ice bath or by a lava river,” She gave it a thought, natural temperatures weren’t the sort she most often felt, “I feel hot more commonly than cold, but I suppose I don’t in the same way that you do. I can feel the heat that I create, be it literal fire or otherwise, but that’s never uncomfortable in the way you describe. I don’t seek out the cold when I’m alight, my temperature could keep rising and I’d be unphased. It’s not the same as natural heat, it’s just… hot.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Silver admitted, “I guess we’re describing alien experiences to each other.”

It was true but, after twiddling with his chest fur for a moment longer, she managed to think things out just a little more clearly, “My flames are part of me so, while I feel their heat, it doesn’t affect me. I suppose they also allow me to ignore more mundane forms of heat, up to a certain point.”

“Oh, okay. It’s like your just more insulated because you’re already used to a certain kind of heat?” The hedgehog hummed.

“I suppose so,” She answered, but her mind had begun to drift.

Beyond the hedgehog’s shoulder was her alarm clock, only just lit enough that she could make out its face. It was quarter past one, they’d already breached the next day. She was tired, that much was undeniable, but exhaustion wasn’t enough to dissuade her. The feline hadn’t worked much today, she’d been in and out of meetings but neither had sparred nor trained. Well, it wasn’t as though he could sleep, why not take advantage?

Blaze sat up in bed, allowing the covers to tumble loose. With a yawn, she brushed back her hair with her fingers and cast a glance down her frame. Black spat shorts and a loose white tank top were hardly the ideal garb for this plan but, with the addition of a nearby dressing gown and a set of slippers, she supposed they would suffice. Silver was staring at him, confusion in his glowing eyes.

“Seeing as you refuse to leave my side, and that you’re never going to sleep at this rate, we’re going out,” The feline slipped off of the edge of the bed and into a set of soft black slippers, “Let’s go where the air is cool.”

“What, now? Where?” His surprise fell on deaf ears as she wrapped herself up in a black dressing gown with baggy sleeves and a length that stretched well beyond her knee. It was his of course but he hardly needed it, even in Winter, so she’d found herself donning it more and more often.

The princess paced away from the bed, throwing a glance through the balcony door. It was a dark and cloudy night, hardly the sort for stargazing. Well, hardly the sort the regular people would spend stargazing. There was a place that they could always go, where the air would be cooler and the sky would be clear.

She glanced back only to find that Silver had stumbled out of bed, his quills cursed with pre-emptive bedhead. Not only were his front quills bedraggled but the pack pair had fanned out as a result of him lying on his back, giving the appearance that he had wings. He had managed to shuffle into his own pair of slippers, a fluffy grey set, but wore no garb beside them. The moment that he was within reach, she snatched up his hand and led him onto the outdoor landing.

The air was still, and the night bordered on being silent, as she cast her gaze across the dark garden bellow. Though his presence would light the area, she doubted he’d find much in the way of coolness down there. They had to go higher. Casually, Blaze released his hand but snuck her arm up his shoulder.

The hedgehog looked so confused, she leaned into him, “Let’s go visit the stars.”

He finally understood. Without another moment of hesitation, cyan energy began to coreless around the pyrokinetic. Blaze felt herself lighten before she slipped briefly into the air. He caught her legs, carrying her in an almost bridal style. The energy ebbed from him, flowing to encase his frame. His quills straightened and fluffed up as all that was white became teal. Gingerly, the hedgehog took a floating step to land on the balcony wall.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Blaze?” As he questioned, she moved in, “It is pretty la-

Her lips found his, cutting him off before he began to overthink this, “If it’ll help you cool off and sleep well then of course I do,” The hedgehog was blushing, she could see it through his aura, “Besides, we haven’t seen the stars tonight.”

That was enough to convince him to kick off and into the air. They glided slowly upward, and Blaze felt the wind part her fur. Though his frame was encased in psychic energy, she could see the slight drag of his flight rustling through his quills.

While she had once feared heights, reuniting with her partner had inspired a sort of enjoyment of them. She’d still been tense about them at first but, as had been the case in that other timeline, traveling with him had eased her fear. Once she could barely stand on her balcony, now she could happily sit amongst the clouds. Being with him made it easier of course, but she could still manage more now than she ever could before.

Seeing the sky on nights like this had helped with that growth too. Above them the cosmos stretched out endlessly, encompassing more than either time traveller could surely comprehend. Southern Island didn’t have much in the way of light pollution so the greater universe was usually clear to see but, with the clouds blocking out all evidence of civilisation, the sky was perfect. Even the stretching spiral arms of galaxies were totally visible. It was the kind of sky that most would only see once in a lifetime, yet it was so casually at her fingertips.

It was only in these rare moments that the true colouration of the universe became clear to her. The sky wasn’t just some black canvas with white speckles dotted across it, the universe was endlessly colourful. The emptiness was a deep dark blue but, no point in the sky was truly empty. The blueness was born from the light of a billion stars stretching out in endless directions, coming in all shapes and at all manner of distance. Some had more of a purple sheen to them, others a much purer white. Regardless, the moon’s presence, amongst yet separate from the rest of the cosmos, was that of a waxing crescent, only a night away from entirely vanishing.

“Is it better up here?” She asked, finally breaking her gaze from the sky.

“The wind is nice, the view is too,” He practically purred, “But just being here with you is nicer.”

Blaze rolled her eyes, “I want to know if this is helping Silver, first and foremost.”

“It is, it’s a lot more comfortable,” He more truthfully answered, “I’m not sure how long I can keep flying though. We’re not at risk of falling or anything, it’s just pretty late; I’m just tired.”

“Then let’s use this opportunity to tire you out properly,” She suggested, “The longer we stay up here, the less energy you’ll have to fight off sleep.”

She could tell that all he’d said was true by his body language alone. While the hedgehog’s usual serious gaze had been replaced with a far dopier one, all stiffness had faded from his shoulders and a small grin refused to leave his muzzle. Being up here really was helping.

Gently, but with intent, she pushed against his chest and felt him shift in the air. In a matter of moments he went from floating upright to lying on his back, almost settled atop a bed of clouds. He’d have fit in with them if it weren’t for the glowing energy that surrounded his being.

He looked perplexed as she stared down at him, “I thought you wanted to watch the stars?”

“The brightest star in the sky is right in front of me,” She countered, easing herself to lay more comfortably.

Her legs straddled his waist as she laid chest to chest with him, crossing her arms and setting her chin upon them. He didn’t seem to know where to stare, at her or the stars above, and her flustering comment likely hadn’t aided in that debate. He’d compared her to a star so often but, truth be told, he was far more like one than her. The hedgehog would take to the air so casually, it was almost as though he belonged up here with the night sky. While she had shunned her flames for so long, he’d glittered and shone for as long as she’d known him.

“You’re very light,” He mumbled, finally settling to look at her.

“Silver, you can lift buildings with the wave of your hand. Your understanding of light and heavy isn’t normal,” She casually parried.

“But I don’t have to use my powers to lift you,” He sleepily babbled, yawning partway through, “I remember when you were taller than me, that didn’t stop me either…”

Blaze cast her mind back, considering the time he was talking about. From when they’d first met until their early teenage years, the difference between their heights had been negligible. She assumed there here had been periods where she’d overtaken him, but he surely wasn’t thinking about one of those. He was thinking about the last time she’d been taller than him. When they were twelve, bordering on thirteen, she’d endured a growth spurt and ended up a good few inches taller than him. She’d rather taken pride in the change, using it as leverage to insist on doing a great share of their work, but it hadn’t lasted for long. By the time they’d turned fourteen he had taken the lead again, a position he’d hold for the rest of their lives, regardless of the heels she wore. That didn’t mean she’d given back control, of course.

“For less than a year, yes, I was,” She smiled, “We were neck and neck for a while. I rather liked being taller than you.”

“Sorry,” He grinned back, “I should have tried to stay short.”

“Some things just can’t be forgiven,” She yawned, feeling the weight of the hour on her shoulders, “You’ll have to find some other way to make it up to me.”

“Like what?” He asked, clearly not entirely oblivious.

Gently yet casually, she slipped forward and allowed her lips to mingle with his again. Fingers began to ply through windswept fur, she felt her tail coil around his back and heard a deep purr begin to ebb from his throat. She gingerly took his muzzle in her hand before not so softly pushing his cheek to deepen their lip-lock. The hedgehog wasn’t a bad kisser but, truth be told, he still seemed to lose himself in the occurrences’ bliss. More often than not, she found herself taking the lead in these situations and this was no different. When they finally parted, beaming like a fool the hedgehog’s eyes didn’t reopen.

“You’ll think of something,” She told him, keeping a hand on his cheek.

It was only with those words that Blaze noticed a change in their surroundings. All of a sudden his body was melding with the clouds, they had begun a slow and very controlled descent. When she was small, she’d have panicked at this; she’d have insisted on knowing what he was doing rather than knowing it inherently. At their age, having known him for this long, she could read him like a book. Now that he’d cooled down, the psychic had realised just how tired he was.

They vanished into the clouds and, now unable to see him, she could feel it. While his tail had been lightly wagging before, it’d now slowed almost to a standstill. His cheeks were plush in her hand, not resisting her touch on even a subconscious level, and his movements were heavy. The thump of his heart, barely audible over the buzzing of his aura, was peacefully rhythmic, he was entirely calm, so very comfortable with her atop him. Perhaps her heat truly wasn’t the problem.

As they exited through the cloud layer, Blaze was able to look upon his muzzle once again. His eyes had remained closed and relaxation had overtaken the smile on his face. The castle drifted back into view behind them and, without so much of a glance from the hedgehog, they lowered to perfectly levitate through the balcony doors. In a matter of moments, he glid down to arrive on their thoroughly messy bed.

Did he fall asleep the moment his head met with his pillow? Her rational side doubted it but, watching his frame ease into the mattress made her want to believe so. It’d surely be a fitful sleep, he’d probably wake up early or drift in and out of consciousness. Still, as long as she’d helped him get the slightest grace of sleep, she was happy with her efforts.

With a yawn and a stretch, she took a more comfortable position curled up against his frame before soon joining him in the land of the dreaming.

[sweetwritertanya]

Nothing To Be Jealous About (Namjoon)

Summary: Namjoon is acting weird after you pick him up from work. In order to light up his mood, you take him out for a drive. The reason he had been bothered both surprises you and erupts a fit of laughter from you.

Warnings: none! Well, swearing, but that’s it! This is just a fluffy fic, as will the next one be. As all of them had been, it was a fun one-shot to write and I particularly like that the female is taking the male out while she drives! Even though I hate driving myself (I do it only if I really have to), I think it’s unfair how little representation there is of women driving in fanfiction. Since Namjoon is the only one without a driver’s license, it was the perfect opportunity! Hope you all like it!

Word Count: 2507

He really thought he was better than this. He honest to God thought he knew better by now. And yet, it was like he was in fucking high school again, the most disturbingly cringy emotions taking over his heart in a matter of seconds like he had done no maturing whatsoever in the last few years.

He had been watching for almost ten minutes now, just standing behind the pilar of the parking lot as you talked to your friend inside your car. In the car that you used often to pick your boyfriend up from work whenever your schedules permitted. Leaning with your back half on the driver’s seat, half on the driver’s door, you were facing your friend with a large smile that made your puffy cheeks ascend beneath your eyes in the cutest of ways. You were wearing a white off-the shoulder zip-up top that he always thought it looked great on you, but now he was wondering if it showed to much skin, to much of your neck and shoulders and cleavage.

All thoughts he would never have if the friend that was currently occupying his passenger seat next to yours wasn’t a male.

You never told him you gave rides to your male friends. In fact, he couldn’t recall you ever mentioning having male friends to begin with, maybe the occasional schoolmate or a friend’s boyfriend and that was it. And now, here you were, getting out of the parked car and coming around the vehicle to hug your friend goodbye. And Namjoon really hated how jealous he was of it all, your warm smiles and the guy’s large hands on your back.

As soon as the male was out of sight, you leaning against the hood of the car looking at your phone, he gathered the courage to step forward and walk towards you. A buzz from his pocket indicated the message he received from you, asking if you would get there soon. He wasn’t sure if he should admit how long he had already been watching.

“Hey, Y/N” he calls, trying to smile but coming just short of accomplishing that alluring dimply happy expression.

You look up from your phone and stand straight to your feet with a glowing beam.

“Jonnie! Missed you, baby!” you greet as you open your arms for a hug.

You don’t notice the hesitation, how his hands on your back and your arms around his middle reminded him of the man you were hugging just moments before. And Namjoon hates himself for feeling like this. It’s not like he caught you cheating, it was only a hug that would have meant nothing if it had been a girl instead of a guy. And it’s not like he couldn’t accept a man and a woman could be only friends. But, when it came to you, he had a hard time believing any man would want to be just friends.

Your plump figure had all the soft curves on all the right places and some extra fluff to squeeze and hold in his large hands. Beautiful skin, tameless hair and a cool sense of style, he was unable to comprehend who wouldn’t want you. Even now, with the white zip up top covering the top of your arms to your elbows, and some denim jeans that fit snuggly around your tick legs, some simple sneakers on your feet, he thought you looked ravishing.

“How was your day, baby?” you ask stepping back just a bit to look up at him, your hands holding the side fabric of his black t-shirt with some simple white lettering at the front, tugged in his striped dark trousers.

“It went fine. And yours?” Though he was trying to sound normal, there was a bit of dryness in his tone that even he himself noticed as he spoke.

“Mine went normal as always, but it sounds like yours wasn’t really fine? Want to talk about it?” you question, perceptive to his unusual mood.

“Not really” Namjoon sighs, avoiding eye contact. “Not right now, at least.”

Always understanding and accommodating, you think about it for a minute before having an idea and tugging at his hand, fallen from your hips when he last spoke. He glances at you and you smile reassuringly.

“Let’s go for a drive, then!” you propose.

Pulling him by the hand, you even open the door for him to go in, a spring in your step as you did your best to cheer your boyfriend up before the end of the day. No matter how crappy of a day he had, it was your main mission to have him fall asleep with a smile on his juicy lips. And today would be no exception.

Driving away from the building’s parking lot, Namjoon pulls his black cap further down his forehead to hide his face from possible recognition while you drive, getting more and more comfortable as you move away from the agglomerated areas and travel to the outskirts of town. Having the radio on was always a must, turning the music up whenever a particular liked song came up and, of course, singing your lungs out.

Namjoon found himself getting lighter and lighter as the heavy feeling of insecurity and jealousy was washed away by your cheery melodic voice, your over-the-top high notes and body gestures, your contagious energy and good disposition. Before he knew it, you were both in the highway shouting the BTS song that came up, Namjoon’s raspy squealing vocals and scrunch up face never failing to make you laugh loudly.

Road clear, you allowed yourself to glance at the man by your side and thank your lucky starts for having him right there, right next to you. He was smiling now, a real smile, one arm propped against the window, legs casually open in the tiny space the car allowed, cap now pulled back from the continuous head movements from before, hooded heavy eyes creasing at the corners with his raised cheeks, glowing with the last few rays of sunshine just before the sunset.

Hand moving of its own accord, like it often did in moments like this, your palm searched for his and soon you intertwined your fingers, letting the holding hands rest against his thigh as you focused back on the street. You missed the way he looked back at you, first glancing at your hands joined together with an almost wonder behind his almond eyes before landing on your round face. It was a mirror of your own glance.

Pulling up to a deserted spot with a beautiful view of the Han river and the Seoul city, just as the sun disappeared and the moon was all that was left in the sky, you shut the engine and laid back in your seat, exhaling deeply. Your hand left his since you needed it to park, but this time it was Namjoon who searched for yours as he joined your hands once more.

The silence lasted long minutes, a comfortable one. No anxiety to fill it, no need for conversation, nothing missing but the companionship of each other. After about ten or fifteen minutes, you are the first to speak, simply to say what was on your mind.

“Next time, I should bring some beers” you announce, envisioning the two of your sitting outside, toasting with two cans in your hands.

Another beat of silence goes by and you don’t think he is going to say anything back, something you don’t take personally, rather enjoying the way he just brushes the skin of your knuckles with his thumb in response. But when he does talk, it is about the overly though out conclusion he reached on the way over.

“I’m an idiot.”

You turn to him with furrowed eyebrows in confusion, completely unaware of where that came from.

“What?” you blurt out. “Hey, Joonie, what’s wrong? What’s bothering you?”

You lean in towards him a little and brush his arm with your available hand, up and down his covered bicep, hoping to get him to open up a little about it.

“It’s stupid and I know it” he starts with a sigh, head down as his eyes stay glued to his lap. “A relationship should always be based upon trust, and I do trust you. This is just a fucked-up way of thinking rooted in male chauvinism that subconsciously continues to instill in me these awful feelings I thought were overgrown by now and-”

“Baby, baby, breathe” you plea as he keeps speaking nervously fast. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Namjoon. Slow down, start from the beginning.”

He exhales deeply and extracts his hand from yours to join them in his lap, legs spread apart the most they could in the tight space and left foot restless as it taps on the car’s floor.

“I saw the guy you came with in the parking lot.” He finally admits it, eyes still focused on his hands.

“You mean Sam?” you inquire, still oblivious to what his point was.

He sort of freezes for a moment then, slowly moving his head up to glance at you with an equal confused expression.

“Sam?” That was a familiar name he was sure you used before.

You just nod and continue, still not getting it.

“Yeah, Sam. I told you about him before. What about it?”

“I… I though Sam was a girl friend” he confesses, tension in his jaw as he remembers all the times you spoke of him, all the times you said you were going out with him somewhere. “Anyway, I… I wasn’t expecting to see you with him and then I saw you two hugging and I really didn’t like it. Your arms around him and his hands on your back, it just-”

You were pretty sure that even if you tried to hold it in, you would have been unsuccessful. The roar of laughter that came out of your mouth was surely uncontainable and you found yourself holding your stomach as you bend in half in the driver’s seat, head resting against the wheel as you tried to catch your breath between the genuine, albeit embarrassing, chortles.

Only when you accidently bumped the horn of the car did you pulled yourself together, cleaned the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, and faced the very much confused and slightly offended Namjoon.

“S-sorry, baby, sorry. I couldn’t stop myself. Are you telling me you got jealous of Sam? That’s what’s been bothering you?”

“Yeah. And I was trying to apologize for it, before you burst out laughing” he states, crossing his arms at you but adopting his serious face once more. “Look, I don’t want be one of those assholes who get jealous for nothing. I really don’t. I know, logically speaking, that it was just a hug, but my mind keeps thinking of how tight he was hugging you and where his hands were and-”

“Joon” you call before he continues burying himself in a hole. You move your body completely to his side, take both his hands in between yours and lean in to look him directly in the eyes. “You have nothing to be jealous about. Especially about Sam.”

“I know. I do, but my brain-”

“He’s gay, Joonie” you inform with a chuckle, trying not to break into a fit of laughter again. “Sam is a gay male who happens to be very committed to his boyfriend. Rest assured, there is nothing you could even begin to be jealous about.”

A beat of silence as you watch realization hit him. He blinks a few times, eyebrows slowly relax and thick defined lips slowly part to make a cute ‘o’ shape.

“Oh… Oh, no. I’m such an imbecile!”

His head falls down again in shame and you throw your arms around him as you giggle about it all. He places his forehead against your shoulder and you feel his cheek and ear against your neck, both quite hot and probably flushed.

“It’s okay, Namjoon. I thought you knew. I was just giving him a ride; his boyfriend lives close to your workplace.” You explain, hands rubbing up and down his curved back.

“I can’t believe I got jealous. I honestly thought he was into you. You must think I’m a jerk.”

“Humm, actually, there is this very, very small grey area between being cutely jealous and overly jealous” you say, leaning back and taking his face in between his hands before he could hide it from view. Like you suspected, cheeks and ears were turning red as you spoke. “Lucky for you, this lands on the cute side of things.”

Pulling his face to you with your cupping hands, you guide his lips to smack into yours for a quick peck, just a reassuring gesture that he had nothing to worry about.

“And it was pretty funny, too” you add, chuckling again with glinting eyes set on Namjoon’s.

It is him who leans forward this time, swallowing your laughter with his mouth, moving his soft lips over yours gently at first and then feverously, longingly, with intermingling lips in a motion that became more and more rhythmical as the seconds passed. One hand holding you by the back of your neck and another squeezing at the flesh of your stouter thigh, his tongue brushed your bottom lip and you allowed it entrance, dipping in and caressing with yours as the inside of the car grew just a bit foggy and the cold night grew warmer.

When he pulled back you could still feel the taste of sweet peaches in your mouth. You open your eyes and you found him staring back, almost shyly, with dimpled blushed cheeks but a more confident stance visible in his eye.

“I can’t say I ever thought of myself as ‘cute’ and ‘pretty funny’ before” he admits.

“We should definitely change that” you determine. “Those are two qualities that should be at the top of the list, mister.”

“Of your list maybe. Not sure if others would think the same” he says with a chuckle, leaning back in his seat and pulling you in by the shoulders.

“Agree to disagree.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, one of his arms around yours and the other holding your hand. It is a bit uncomfortable, since you are half sitting in between the seats, highly aware of where the handbrake was poking at your backside. But you endure it for a moment of peace with the oblivious Namjoon.

“I will work on it” he promises suddenly. “This feeling of jealousy.”

“And sharing it with me” you add, moving your head to look up at him from his shoulder. “I want to know if something I’m doing is bothering you and why. If it’s valid, I’ll change it. If not, I’ll be sure to tell you when you’re overreacting. Deal?”

He looks down at you and pecks your lips in a sweet smooch.

“Deal.”

[bloodfromthethorn]

Broken Trust

Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jack’s shoulder driving into his sternum, a too-tight grip on his bicep forcing him sideways as the man he trusted more than anyone else in the world physically moved through him rather than listen to what he had to say.

Tag to 2x02. Mac didn't walk away from his encounter with Jack as unscathed as he might wish to appear.

Also on AO3

..

Mac knew he was being stupid.

Yes, Jack threatening him with violence was no small matter and he was certainly justified in his surprise and betrayal, but he knew that he shouldn’t read any further into it. Jack had just been worried about Riley and hadn’t been thinking straight and in all likelihood, that was absolutely all it was. There was no deeper meaning, no hidden message. He shouldn’t be dwelling on it. He definitely shouldn’t be sitting on his deck at 3:30 in the morning contemplating all the times Jack had promised to have his back, to keep him safe, only to immediately turn on him when Mac put himself between his Overwatch and someone Jack cared about more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t get it: Jack had technically known Riley for far longer than he’d known Mac and he’d cared for her when she’d been a child – of course he was going to feel paternal. Mac had never been under any illusion that the relationship he had with Jack would outweigh that and he wouldn’t want it to, but he’d kind of thought that he still at least ranked somewhere near the top. Was that being presumptuous? A few days ago he wouldn’t have doubted it for a second, but now he couldn’t help but think maybe he’d been projecting his own feelings onto Jack and the reality of the situation was actually nothing like he’d thought it was.

But, then again, that was just a little overly dramatic, no? Jack had proven willing to go to the mat for Mac time and again, and this was the first time since their ill-fated meeting that the man had ever seemed willing to come to blows with him. They’d rib and tease each other, but he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times there’d been true animosity between them. Mac’s quiet crisis of faith was surely nothing more than an overactive imagination and a history of being second choice to the people he loved.

And even if he wasn’t imagining anything, Jack had apologised for all of it – or at least he’d tried to. In the end, despite having waited to hear it, Mac had found that he just couldn’t stomach the thought of listening to Jack try to justify himself, to directly tell him that his loyalty to the woman who was basically his daughter was more important to him than his loyalty to Mac. Instead he’d shut down the apology before it could reach the light of day, brushing off Jack’s concern with a shrug and an easy smile. Better to let everyone think that it really was no big deal and was easily put behind them, no matter how far that might be from the truth. If Jack had had any notion of how badly Mac had been flying to pieces inside his own head, he hadn’t shown it.

So far as Mac could tell, everyone had mutually agreed that the whole thing had been a bizarre incident of heightened emotions with no deeper meaning and they could all quite happily sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. If only things were so simple for him.

Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jack’s shoulder driving into his sternum, a too-tight grip on his bicep forcing him sideways as the man he trusted more than anyone else in the world physically moved through him rather than listen to what he had to say. Bruises he’d been very careful to hide pulsed quietly beneath his skin.

It shouldn’t matter, he knew that. Jack had been going out of his mind with worry and Mac knew better than anyone how much he could overreact if someone he cared about was in trouble but at the same time… He’d put Mac in trouble. Mac wasn't in any doubt that if Riley hadn’t chosen that particular moment to convince Bedlam to trust her, he would be nursing a black eye – or worse – by now.

Worse still was that Bozer had also been in the unfortunate position of having to get between Jack and Riley that very same day and he’d managed to walk away entirely clean. Mac was unendingly grateful for that of course and he’d never wish any harm on his friend, but he couldn’t deny that it stung to know Jack wouldn’t raise a hand against Boze when he’d been perfectly happy to against Mac barely an hour earlier.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair for the hundredth time, huffing out a heavy breath as he battled to get his thoughts under control. This was normally what Jack was good at, helping him to get out of his own head and see the truth of things so he could work through the problem, but even if it hadn’t been the early hours, Mac wasn’t about to disturb him with this. Either he was wrong and being paranoid and there really wasn’t anything to worry about, or he was right and asking about it would mean having to hear one of his worst fears realised.

He wasn’t really up to confronting either outcome tonight.

Instead he was stuck out here, unable to sleep but too tied up in knots to try doing anything productive. The best he could manage was sitting beside the unlit firepit with a beer he hadn’t touched once. Letting himself go and getting drunk was distantly tempting, but work tomorrow was going to be tough enough as it was without throwing a hangover into the mix. Besides, if he did that, then people were going to ask questions and there really was no unembarrassing way of saying ‘I’ve been having a bit of a breakdown because a man I considered a brother nearly punched me in the face and I’m having to rethink a decade-long relationship.’

Mac’s usual approach to emotional problems had always been resorting to logic – with mixed results. It was all well and good to explain his childhood dog’s perpetual escape attempts as animal instinct rather than personal dislike, but it became a lot more complicated when he tried to pinpoint the reason a man would abandon his only son and never look back. Unfortunately, this problem looked like it was going to fall into the latter category.

The facts were thus: Jack loved Riley like a daughter; Riley had been in imminent, but not certain, danger; Mac had put himself between the two; Jack had chosen to disregard what Mac was saying in favour of physically moving him aside so he could reach Riley.

There was no logic in the world that could explain that away without demeaning Mac’s relationship with Jack in a way that was deeply hurtful.

It wasn’t a competition and even thinking of it in those terms left Mac swallowing down guilt and disgust at his own neediness. Jack cared loudly and widely; he was in possession of a heart so large, Mac was quite certain he could love a hundred people equally without breaking a sweat. It was no great stretch or challenge to accept that Jack was capable of loving both Riley and Mac, and that those two things had absolutely nothing to do with each other. There was nothing unreasonable about that. 

So it wasn’t a competition, but if it had been then Mac had very definitely lost.

God, he needed to get it together. He was self-aware enough to realise that the only real path forward here was to forgive Jack the minor transgression and move on, accepting it for what it had been without trying to place any excess baggage onto it. If he really couldn’t manage that alone, Jack would no doubt be willing to offer the apology he’d tried to give earlier, should Mac reveal his concerns. Nothing anyone said or did would take back what had happened, and wishing otherwise was childish. He just needed to put it behind him.

Then again, that evidently wasn’t going to happen tonight.

He’d ended up out on the deck sometime around midnight, waiting sleeplessly in his bed until Bozer was well and truly unconscious before sneaking out, driven by a vague desire for air and a need to see the stars. He was only one for two on that – a heavy blanket of cloud had managed to erase the few bright night sparks that usually managed to make it past the light pollution – but that wasn’t such a bad score. At the very least, the still quiet made a nice contrasting balm to his inner turmoil.

The quiet didn’t last however – the hour hand on Mac’s watch had just started creeping past 4 when he heard the purr of a familiar engine pulling up outside and he breathed a long sigh. He had no idea what had drawn Jack there – he’d often joked about having a sixth sense when Mac was in trouble, but he couldn’t possibly have known about this – and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out. He toyed with the idea of slipping back into his bedroom before Jack had a chance to make it into the house, but he was sufficiently torn that he was still contemplating that course of action when he heard the door unlatch.

There were a few moments of quiet footsteps tracing through the house, first checking on the bedrooms and then, after presumably finding Mac’s empty, more hurried movement until the door to the deck squeaked open and Jack’s boots appeared in the corner of Mac’s vision. Exhausted and frankly too tired to even try to pretend otherwise, Mac didn’t look up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked quietly. His whole evening had felt fragile and a superstitious part of him he’d never been able to ditch warned that it was in danger of shattering if he didn’t speak softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” was the equally gentle reply. “You?”

“It’s been a long few days.” The words sounded heavy, containing too much meaning. He took an unenthusiastic swig of beer to cover it. “There’s more in the fridge if you want one,” he added, shaking the bottle a little.

“Little early to start drinking, isn't it?”

“To be fair, it was late when I started.”

“…I think that might make it worse hoss.”

He snorted indelicately and took another pull. Now that he’d started drinking it, he found himself vaguely comforted by the familiar flavour. There wasn’t enough alcohol in it to do more than warm him, but the sensation wasn’t unwelcome.

Jack seemed to sigh, then his boots disappeared as he worked his way around behind Mac to sit beside him on the lip of the firepit. Now on the same level, Mac couldn’t avoid meeting his gaze. He looked as tired as Mac felt, so he said as much.

His Overwatch offered an unconvincing smile. “I’ll have you know that I look good no matter what,” he replied, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it. “Truth be told, I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse.”

That raised concern. “Are you getting ill? I think I’ve still got some of those antipyretics in the cupboard-”

He made a jerking motion to get to his feet, but Jack waved him back down before he could go anywhere. “Nah, it’s nothing man, don’t worry about it. It’s just like you said – been a long few days. Think I’m still working through it all.”

Mac felt his heart sink in his chest. Of all the conversations he didn’t want to have right that second. “I know how much you didn’t want Riley out there. I can’t imagine how stressful this has all been,” he said, aiming for compassionate and just barely hitting the mark. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

Jack, weirdly, looked sheepish. “You and me both kid, but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

There was a pause as Mac processed that and came up empty. “Oh?”

Despite the fact that whatever was going on in Jack’s head had been fierce enough to drive him all the way to Mac’s house in the middle of the night, he suddenly looked tremendously uncertain. One hand snaked up to rub at the back of his neck, dragging his head down so that he didn’t have to maintain eye contact. Mac half expected him to start shifting in his seat.

“Jack? What’s going on?”

He sighed gustily, apparently rooting around for his courage, and met Mac’s gaze again. “Look, I know you brushed it off before and I appreciate your understanding and all that but-” He hesitated ever so briefly, then the rest came pouring out of him like he couldn’t stop it. “Man, I was way out of line yesterday. Like so far past the line I couldn’t even see it any more. Yeah I was stressed about Riley and I ain’t ever going to be sorry for looking out for her, but that doesn’t change the fact that for a split second I was willing to go through you to do it. There’s nothing that could ever make that right and I need you to know how fucking sorry I am.”

He broke his gaze away again, bringing up his other hand to bury his face in his palms in pained desperation. Mac blinked at him in surprise, utterly stunned.

“And it’s stupid anyway because I know how much you care about Riley and me, and I know that you were trying to stop me to protect us both – I should have just seen-” He bit himself off, grumbled, pressed on more calmly: “I was so focused on my own inability to see what Riley could do that I lost sight of her, the mission, and you. It’s my job to keep you safe – that’s my only job – and I was so far out of my own head that I put you in danger because of my own stupidity. There is nothing about that that’s okay and even if you don’t need me to say it, I had to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m not expecting forgiveness because shit, I really messed it up this time, but for whatever it’s worth, I swear I’ll never do that again.”

Mac forced himself to swallow, desperately willing his exhausted brain to kick itself into gear and process everything Jack had just dumped on him. When he’d considered asking for an apology after all, this hadn’t been quite what he had in mind. In response to it, all he could manage was a sort of stunned silence.

Jack rubbed at his face one last time, then pulled himself upright again and forcefully met Mac’s eyes. He looked as though he was bracing for a hit, but he didn’t flinch. Mac, for his part, had absolutely no idea what he was possibly supposed to say.

A part of him desperately wanted to grasp the lifeline he was being offered, accept the explanation as the reassurance it was evidently meant to be, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. After a lifetime of those he cared about proving that Mac was a very easy person to leave, some self-preservation instinct was finally picking up its head and warning him not to trust so blindly. A few days ago he had been utterly certain that Jack would never willingly hurt him – now, he knew what it was to hear his Overwatch’s voice dip low and threatening, warning him that if he didn’t step aside, he was going to get hurt. He knew what it was to go cold at the humiliation he’d felt when faced with a thoroughly dismissive, ‘Boy, get out of my face.’ He knew what it was to have Jack look at him and see nothing but an obstacle in his way.

Hours too late and in the worst possible moment, Mac suddenly realised that the anger he’d been quietly cultivating wasn’t really anger at all.

As he always seemingly managed to do, Jack chose that same moment to pick up on the fact that something had gone wrong with his partner, because his earnestness immediately dropped away behind guilty concern. He hesitated for several heartbeats, absorbing whatever was going on in Mac’s expression, then tilted his head consideringly. “When you stopped me apologising earlier,” he said very slowly, “You didn’t mean it when you said it was fine, did you?”

Mac forced himself to shrug, trying to shake looseness into limbs that had frozen in place. “Like I said, Riley’s lucky to have you. You were just watching out for her.”

“Yeah, and throwing you under the bus in the process. God, I almost- I could have hurt you Mac.”

Now was probably a very bad time to reveal that he had hurt him. At least the bruises were in places easy to hide.

“You didn’t,” he lied instead, running his eyes over the skyline rather than let Jack see the mistruth in them. “I appreciate the apology, I really do, but I understand. Riley’s family, Jack, of course you’re going to do everything you can to defend her.”

Jack let out a humourless snort. “You say that like you’re not every bit as much my family as she is.”

There was a sudden, telling silence. Jack blinked. Mac’s gaze stayed fixed on the horizon.

“You- You do know that… right?” Jack said haltingly, his voice so quiet as to be almost unheard even in the silence. When there was no immediate response, it turned more forceful. “Mac, tell me you know that.”

He swallowed hard. In the face of such honest concern, Mac couldn’t bring himself to lie or to brush it off, but at the same time he had no idea how to explain the tangle of thorns in his head without sounding as stupid as he was afraid he was being.

“Jack,” he started carefully, weighing up the words as he went, “We’ve been partners for years now. I know how important that is and I’m grateful for it every day, but… But you knew Riley when she was just a kid.” He twitched his hands in a vague attempt at encompassing the sheer scale of their relationship. “I get that things have been kind of weird between the two of you, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s basically your daughter. I should never have tried to get in the middle of that.”

“If you hadn’t gotten in the middle of it, I would have gotten her killed,” Jack shot back immediately. “You did everything right Mac. I’m the one who fucked up here.”

There wasn’t a lot Mac could really say to that since it was technically accurate, but he was spared the effort by Jack refusing to take the bait of his deflection.

“And besides,” he continued firmly, “That’s not even slightly the point here. You- You really don’t think that I see you as family?”

Goddamn it he sounded hurt and that was so not what Mac had been going for. He sucked in a breath and cursed himself when it shook. “That’s not- That wasn’t what I was trying to say,” he managed lamely, wanting to reassure but deeply unwilling to make any presumptions. That was precisely what had gotten him into this mess.

Jack’s eyes were dark and sad and knowing. Mac could scarcely stand to look at them. “Maybe not, but it’s what you’re thinking, right? You’ve got it in your head that everything that happened was because Riley’s more important to me than you?”

Hearing the words said aloud in such a level, careful tone sent a rush of blazing shame right through him. It sounded so pathetic when put so simply. This time the anger that burned hot on its heels was genuine, though aimed more at himself than anyone else. He shook his head sharply as though to rid himself of the feeling but he still couldn’t quite meet Jack’s eyes when he said, “No. I know it doesn’t work like that. I’m not some kid in need of coddling Jack. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“You’re tired because you’re sitting on your deck at four in the morning instead of sleeping, and I’ve known you long enough to know that happens when you can’t get something out of your head. So, if I’m wrong, what is it? Because it has been a shitty few days but somehow I get the feeling this isn’t about a missing EMP or you having to figure us a way out of a crashing plane with no chutes.” His expression was complicated; some combination of worried and open, like he was pleading with Mac to just speak with him. “C’mon Mac. Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Mac shook his head slowly, too many thoughts crowding in at once to make sense of anything. “Jack-”

“Don’t tell me it’s nothing. Mac-” Jack bit off whatever he was about to say in frustration, shaking himself. “God I really fucked up. Should’ve known you’d come to the worst possible conclusion. Never did know your own worth.” He ran a tired hand over his face, then drew himself upright and faced Mac head on, a rare seriousness shining in his eyes. “Okay, this is something I clearly should be saying more often since you still don’t seem to believe it but, you’re my brother Mac. You’re every bit as much my family as Ri is and I know that I made you doubt that, but it never for one second stopped being true. You hear me? I’m so sorry for what I did outside that warehouse – you didn’t deserve it one bit and I should never have done it. But it didn’t mean what you’re thinking it did.”

“I’m not thinking anything Jack,” he said quietly, even while his brain raced away from him. He wanted so, so badly to believe what he was hearing and Jack had sworn long ago to always be honest with him. To Mac’s knowledge he’d never once broken that promise…

But it was also exactly what Mac wanted to hear. Of course he was going to be inclined to believe it.

“That’s never once been true and you know it,” Jack shot back, not losing an ounce of his seriousness. 

Mac didn’t rise to the implied joke. A sudden swell of frustration at Jack’s presumption climbed his throat and he was scoffing before he could help himself. “Tell me then,” he said sharply. “What exactly is it I’m thinking?”

Jack flinched lightly at the acid in his tone, but he held Mac’s gaze steadily like he was prepared to take any blow he threw his way. “I’ve never tried to pretend I can follow everything that goes through your head hoss. I don’t have near the IQ for that. But I think even you’d agree that I’ve gotten pretty good at following you.”

Mac’s face tried to twitch into a scowl but he forced it down with a will of iron. 

His partner continued without interruption. “Now maybe I’m overstepping here, but I’m gonna bet that right now you’re feeling angry and hurt because you trusted me and I let you down. I let you down real bad.” There, he did hesitate very slightly, before deciding to voice what they both already knew. “I know I’m not the first person to do that, not by a long shot. You’ve had to deal with all kinds of shit you never deserved, but betrayal isn’t something anyone gets used to.”

Burgeoning anger aside, that felt like a step too far. Mac shook his head sharply. “You didn’t betray anyone-”

“Yes, I did,” he cut in firmly. “I betrayed your trust. I promised to protect you, but I got so caught up in my own bullshit hang-ups that I broke that promise. You’ve got every reason to be pissed as all hell about that Mac, don’t let anyone tell you you don’t.”

“You were just trying to help Riley,” Mac said again, sounding weak to his own ears. Everything Jack was saying was everything he’d thought he’d needed to hear, but now that it was all laid out so plainly before him, the only sensation he could summon was bittersweet resignation. Jack wasn’t wrong - he felt betrayed. 

“Yeah, maybe. That’s not an excuse.”

There was a long, still pause. “No,” he finally admitted quietly. “It isn’t.”

The corners of Jack’s eyes were damp when he nodded, accepting and agreeing with that in equal measure. He looked crushed. “And you deserve every apology I can give you for that. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to take a swing at me.”

Mac shot him a dark look, irritated by the joke, but he found only seriousness in Jack’s face; he’d meant it. “I’m not going to hit you,” he said, offended at the implication. 

“I know you won’t,” Jack soothed carefully. “I’m just trying to say - very badly - that I do know how badly I’ve fucked this up. I broke a promise to you that I swore my life on and you know I don’t take that sort of thing lightly. I can’t ever explain how sorry I am for it, but I can spend every moment you let me trying to make up for it.”

They let that sit between them for a long few minutes. Mac felt torn; even with the anger and hurt and fucking devastation rocking around in his chest he could admit that Jack was saying everything right. The real question then was whether or not Mac could trust it when Jack had already blindsided him once. 

His Overwatch’s smile was bleak and pained. “I can see that brain of yours whirring away,” he said at length. “Trying to work out if I’m telling the truth, huh?”

As he said it, his façade crumbled ever so slightly and for just a moment, he looked deeply, unbearably sad. Like he knew he’d earned every inch of that mistrust and was regretting it with every fibre of his being. In all their time together, Mac had seen Jack wear that expression exactly once: a thousand years ago in an Italian hospital room as he told a barely conscious Mac that Nikki hadn’t made it. The context might have been different, but those eyes- their grief was the same.

That- that Mac could believe. No one who looked like Jack did in that moment could be insincere. Jack was a hell of a good liar when he needed to be – requirement of the job, really – but the raw, honest heartbreak in that expression was not something even he could fake. For the first time since Jack walked towards him with violence in his eyes, Mac found that he could trust this, if nothing else.

No matter what had happened between them, how readily Jack had been willing to throw away every promise he’d ever made to Mac, he could see the evidence of his regret right in front of him. It didn’t undo what he’d done, not by a long shot, but it was… something. 

Something important. 

Maybe something so important it was really the only thing that actually mattered. 

There was no amount of words that could entirely mend the hurt that Jack had wrought that day, but perhaps they were enough to start the process. Jack was right here, swearing to do better, and despite a lifetime of reasons not to trust an offer like that, Mac couldn’t help but hear the ring of truth. For now, perhaps that had to be enough. Healing always came with time and with Jack willing to make amends, Mac had a feeling that they’d get there together in the end. 

He sucked in a hard breath, and finally, finally forced himself to let his anger and hurt go. They would do nothing for him now.

“I believe you,” he said, and meant it. He caught Jack’s eye. “And I accept your apology. My own messed up head aside, I do know that you were only trying to protect Riley.”

“Hey now, your head’s doing just fine. I’m the one tying it up in knots, even when I should know better. You’ve been given plenty of reason to think the worst of people in your life Mac. That it’s not your first response is- well. Incredible, I guess. I don’t blame you a bit for not trusting me after… Everything.”

Mac’s eyes dropped to the floor again, feeling oddly self-conscious about how easily Jack was able to see through him. It was always easy to forget how little time they had really known each other when Jack could look at him and immediately see the heart of whatever was bothering him. Bozer might have known him for longer, but Jack had still been the one who got to see the darker sides of him born in desert heat and sandy plains. That was exactly why this whole mess had hurt as much as it had.

“I always trust you Jack,” he said honestly. “You caught me off guard, but nothing is about to change that.”

Jack blinked hard, swallowing as he processed that. “After everything that happened this week, I know that I don’t deserve that but you don’t know how good that is to hear, man.” He rubbed at his face, pulling his emotions back in line. “And just so you know, while I appreciate you accepting my apology and all, I know I’m nowhere near done earning your forgiveness. What I did was-”

His eyes suddenly turned distant, and whatever strength had bled back into his frame drained in a rush. He looked… fragile.

“Jack, you don’t need to earn anything,” Mac said, suddenly feeling vaguely guilty for taking it all so badly while at the same time desperately trying to throttle that sensation. He wanted to forgive Jack – already had, if he was honest with himself – but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been right to be upset in the first place. “I’m glad you apologised, no matter what I told you before. That’s all I needed.” He shrugged self-deprecatingly. “Well, that and for you to talk some sense into me, maybe.”

“That’s my job, remember?” Jack said with a shrug of his own. “Keeping your head on straight is half the battle.” He winced in the same instant as he said it, apparently realising the irony in him being the one to throw Mac off this time. He visibly forced himself to straighten out, trying to accept the truth of Mac’s forgiveness. “Well, lesson learned, I guess. Just wish I didn’t do it by hurting you.”

Mac snorted softly, even though his heart wasn’t really it in. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“That is one hundred percent true,” Jack agreed without hesitation, “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was a dick and you caught the worst of it. Which would be bad enough at the best of times, but in this case you were only doing what you could to protect me and Riley, which is like, I don’t know, a double dick move on my part?” He broke off momentarily with a frown as if trying to work out the maths of that specific scenario, then shook himself like a dog shaking off water. “Whatever, the point is-” A pause. “What was my point again?”

Despite himself, Mac snickered. “I think it was something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry I was an ass, I won’t do it again’. That about sum it up?”

Jack grinned in that knowing way he did when he’d succeeded in pulling Mac out of his own head without him realising. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.” He sobered, catching Mac’s gaze. “And I mean it. I’m not ever going to take a swing at you man, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you never have to feel like I might again.”

 Mac’s first instinct was to brush the reassurance off once more, remind Jack that he already had his trust, but he caught himself before he could. He was determined not to punish himself for reacting badly to something he had every reason to react badly to, and besides, it seemed like Jack needed to say it just as much as Mac needed to hear it. After everything that had happened that day, it felt good to hear that promise put into words. “Thank you,” he said at length, letting truth settle into his tone. 

He went to say more, but the words were lost as a jaw-cracking yawn forced its way up his throat. Jack chuckled quietly at him. 

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, dispensing with his heavy tone for something lighter, something healing. “Think it might be past time we got you to bed, man. You look knackered.”

“I am,” he admitted. There was very little point pretending otherwise; he knew what he looked like. “You’ve got to be exhausted too.”

Jack shrugged easily. “Yeah, but I’ll get out of your hair. I knew you weren’t exactly expecting visitors when I decided to turn up unannounced at four in the morning.”

“That’s literally never stopped you,” he said, rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he was glad Jack had shown up when he did - it was only thanks to it that he thought he might actually be able to get some honest to god sleep before he had to show up at work tomorrow- or, well, later today. “You’re not driving home this late. Just sleep here.”

“I didn’t exactly bring a go-bag with me.”

“Unless you’ve changed dramatically in size in the last two months, I’m pretty sure the clothes you left in my dresser are still going to fit you.”

Jack looked like he was bending, wanting to give in to the comfort readily being offered, but something dark and wary in his eyes was holding him back. That line of guilt that ran rigid along the back of his shoulders had eased slightly during the course of their conversation, but it still lingered on even now. Mac had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to lose it for a long time. 

“I don’t want to impose,” he said after a strained moment of silence. His gaze dropped to his lap. “I think I’ve disturbed your sleep enough tonight to last a lifetime, bud.”

“In case it wasn’t abundantly obvious, you weren’t disturbing anything.”

“Just ‘cause I wasn’t here, doesn’t mean it wasn’t my fault.”

Mac couldn’t help but roll his eyes again. “C’mon man, it’s done. We’re all good, remember? But if you keep arguing about driving home at four AM when you look like you’re going to fall asleep at the wheel, then you are going to keep me up when I would much rather be sleeping. Matty’s already going to be mad as it is; we don’t need to pile sleep deprivation on top.”

His Overwatched hissed, pulling on a peeved frown. “You’re too sneaky for your own good, you know that?”

Mac released what felt like his first genuine laugh in days and drained the rest of his beer, easing himself carefully to his feet. “Someone might have mentioned it in the past. Come on, big guy. I’m not carrying you inside if you pass out here.”

“You could just wake me up.”

“And give up the opportunity to listen to you griping about that bad back you pretend you don’t have? Ooh, that’s a tough call.”

“You’re an ass.”

Mac’s laugh chased them into the darkened house.

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Prologue

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Should you feel even just slightly lonely after this story is over, by all means, go see the anime’s Violet. Even if the storyline is different, your Auto-Memories Doll will be there. —Akatsuki Kana

Tears spilled down the eyes of a beast. Shedding large teardrops, it wept.

Why was he saying such things now, at this moment? The beast was incapable of understanding. It could not fathom the meaning of those words or his reasons to be uttering them.

A slow-acting poison. The beast had been given it little by little every day, and the effects of said poison circulating its whole body were currently showing. The beast’s crying was proof of that. Never had it known such painful tears.

He whispered repeatedly. It was an attempt to tell the beast words that it had not heard before. This conveyed that they were extremely important, but the beast could not accept them. It did not want to comprehend them now. They were most certainly against the very meaning of the beast’s existence. Should it accept them, the beast would no longer exist for the sake of emerald eyes.

——I hate not being able to protect you. My only wish is to keep you safe. It’s all I can reciprocate. Don’t be saying these things now; I want you to give me orders.

And so, the beast howled while wailing. It howled at its one and only Lord. The most hardly replaceable thing in the world for the beast.

   Roses and the Auto-Memories Doll: Prologue

   Blue eyes opened.

The beautiful, golden-manned beast had just awoken. Showered in morning light, it sat up without hesitation. Moving its small body, it smoothly came down from the top of a tree and set its legs on the ground. Swallowing the morning dew that had accumulated on its teeth, it picked fruits from the tree to eat. It ate one and, after staring fixatedly at the other for a second, the beast held onto it and started walking.

It was morning. A comfortable morning.

In the environment where the beast lived, there was neither right nor wrong. It might eventually die if it stayed there. It might live on forever as long as it was there.

The beast, which could easily sense and deal with invaders, felt neither desperation at the fact that morning had come to it, nor hope toward the day called today. It did not know such things. As it had never been taught about them, it was not capable of embracing them.

In certain aspects, the beast was overly superior, and in others, it fell so far behind that it was unbearable to look at. It had tremendously menacing fangs and was beautiful to an uncanny extent. It was that kind of beast. It was still that kind of beast.

Silence.

The beast strained its ears. It could hear the sounds of ocean waves from the coast. And also the voice of a man who appeared to be cursing. It then headed toward the sea.

The sky still bore colors that were a mixture of daybreak and nightly shades. The temperatures were warm and perfectly suitable for putting oneself in motion. Spotting the back of the man, who was sitting on the beach, the beast approached him slow and quietly.

Had he been trying to catch fish? Victim to his irritation, a broken, long tree branch was being flung away. A single small fish lay on a leaf as proof of his efforts.

Something heartbreaking must have happened for the man to be in such a situation. He did not seem to have the strength for cooking or eating the fish. With the man in front of it, the beast offered him the fruit.

He was the man who the beast had cognized as its “master” the other day.

Adults were necessary for the beast. Adults who could designate it instructions of some sort. The beast was able to live on its own, yet it needed adults to give it directions. It would be a problem if he died.

After leaving the fruit there, the beast distanced itself a little and sat on the sand. It was waiting for orders. While it did so, something hit its head.

“You monster.”

It was a fruit. He had apparently thrown away the fruit that the beast had gone through the trouble of giving to him. Even though he was hungry.

The man glanced its way. His green irises and raven hair glistened amidst the break of dawn. He was a beautiful man.

“I want to kill you,” the man whispered with a tone that would make one think this was his true intention.

It was a cruel statement, but the beast displayed no reaction. The white noise of the ocean waves drifted between the two of them. As the beast could not talk, the place was quiet when the man did not speak.

An island of one man and one beast. There used to be a mountain of corpses as well, but they had long been buried.

“But if I were asked whether you’re wrong or not, I don’t know,” the man, who would later be identified as Dietfried Bougainvillea, simply talked to it with an exhausted face. “If I were in your shoes and felt danger from those men... from that man who came towards you all of a sudden, then I would’ve probably done that.”

The beast merely turned its ears to the voice of the man. Not that it could understand anything. It was a wild beast and the man was a person. They were unable to establish communication. However, whenever it was spoken to by the person, the beast would look back at him with its unclouded eyes.

“That and whether or not I can forgive you are two different things. I can’t. In the end, I do want to kill you.”

Having met in the worst possible way, they had not initiated anything yet, but an encounter was a beginning in itself.

“Still, I have some room for pity too... Just what are you? Were you abandoned? Why’re you by yourself in a place like this...?”

As an announcement for a chemical reaction of sorts that was about to occur.

“No, you killed my men. I actually don’t have room for pity... Anyway, just stay quiet and listen.”

This was the start of a grandiose fate.

“I’m thinking with myself about what to do with you. I can’t stand you. I despise you.”

That meeting had served as its cornerstone.

“For now, I need you so that I can survive. You know this territory and can ensure food supplies as my tool to prepare for an escape... to go from this remote island back to Leidenschaftlich. And I really do feel a burning anger for what happened before, so want to punish you. But I have a strong sense of duty, so if we manage to leave this place without problems and if I get a chance to see my little brother’s face at least one more time, he might take interest in you if you do something. I won’t. I myself won’t. I’m complicated. A complicated man. You can’t handle me and I can’t handle you either. If I continue using you, I’ll get fed-up for sure and would indeed feel like killing you, but actually doing that would probably be impossible. You’re tough. I’d lose. No matter how I look at it, I can’t kill you. I don’t know why, but you need me, right? You’re trying to keep me alive and you kill things for my sake. Seems like you can be useful. After all, we’re in the middle of a war. It’d be fitting of someone like you to be used, used, used, used, used, used and used down to every last bit, till you become a worn-out mop cloth. That’s right, it definitely fits you...”

The man continuously spit out outrageous statements for a long while. The beast picked up the fruit that had been thrown away again and left it in front of him.

“Try to save me, monster.” The man bit the fruit, and with an annoyed face, he threw it at the beast.

This time, the beast dodged it. The fruit formed an arched trajectory line, overlapping with the sunrise lights. It was radiant enough for the beast to feel like its retinas would char, and so it closed its eyes as if bringing down a curtain.

   Blue eyes opened.

The beast was inside a large sack. It did not know for how much time it had been there. Long had passed since the last time it had been taken to the toilet and told to finish its business. Its throat was dry and it was tired from recurrent battles. While in the bag, it had repeatedly closed and opened its eyelids, falling into a doze, and now it had opened them again.

It could discern the voice of its master. As well as the stench of some burned food that he and the people who followed him were daring to put into their mouths. The beast did not like the odor. It dulled its sense of smell.

When would the master use it? There was no meaning to the beast aside from being put to use. The beast wanted to be used. It had no other way to prove itself.

There were surely people who found it strange. Why was this doll-like beast, who did not show any emotion, so keenly obsessed with being a tool? That was very simple. So simple it was ridiculous, so commendable it was ludicrous.

The beast wanted to be with humans.

It could live by itself. The beast had enough strength for that. It was fine even without anyone around. Yet, it wanted to be with people. It hated being on its own. That much was obvious. Nobody wanted to be in solitude. In true, complete loneliness. That was the desire of people whose mental state had grown tired of interacting with people, but no one who was actually alone wished for it. The beast wanted to be with someone, but could think of a means to do so other than offering itself for use. Which was why the beast was doing so.

It had lost the memory of its parents’ faces, its recollections from before a certain time, everything – yet it knew all but the surge born from servitude and violence. This was the only thing engraved into the modus operandi of the beast’s short life history. It could also be said that it “wound up” being engraved there. If it had been taught any other method, it would likely not have turned out the way it was.

The beast did not yet know what it was about to meet.

“I haven’t named it. We’d been calling it ‘you’.”

As the sack was opened, the outside lights, which were coming in contact with the beast for the first time in a while, shone on its eyes. The beast closed its eyelids once.

And then, it wished to be given an order.

   Blue eyes opened.

It was completely dark. Their field of vision was pitch-black, the air cold. However, the body of the beast was swelteringly hot. A slushy heat enclosed its whole body, giving it the sensation of turning into a huge lump of lead.

“Violet.”

Suddenly, light shone amidst the darkness.

That was because the person who had spoken to it had lit a lamp, but also because said person seemed to be shining, as he was the beast’s one and only light. His large hand touched the beast’s forehead, and then caressed it as if to unknot its sweat-drenched hair. A sizzling sound could be heard oozing from the beast’s chest.

“Major...”

The beast had been granted a name, known protection and learned how to speak.

“The fever... hasn’t gone down, huh. Can you drink water?”

Which gave rise to an attachment.

“My apologies.”

The beast had absorbed many new things from its new lord, and they built the beast’s values.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You gave too much in the last battle... It was my mistake.”

Without its lord, even breathing would be difficult for the beast now.

“I am a tool, after all.”

It wanted to live for him.

“I believe you should use, use, use and use every last bit of me, until I break.”

And to die for him.

“Therefore, repairing me is unnecessary.”

Such tempestuous dependence was gnawing at its body.

“You’re human. We need rest if we’re down with a fever, and some also need to be nursed. That’s always been the way I’ve supervised you, ever since we’ve met. So of course I have to look after you.”

Everything was the lord’s fault. He had recognized this golden-manned, blue-eyed beast as a “girl” first of all.

“Do you not have any requests? Something I can do in this state.”

The object of his safeguarding, the wild beast he had to oversee, his weapon. While keeping these categories separated, the lord made use of the beast.

“For you to get well, Violet.”

And out of all things, he grew to love it.

   Blue eyes opened.

Tears overflowed from the eyes of the beast. Its visibility was distorted. It closed and opened its eyelids, attempting to expel the salty sea that it was birthing, to no avail.

“Violet, stop.”

The beast wept. Shedding large teardrops, it wailed. Even though it had never cried before, it was doing so.

“...e you.”

Its lord had been severely injured. It had failed to protect him. It had executed its orders, but because of that, it had been unable to protect him.

For the beast, the lord was more important than this mission.

“...ove you.”

As it cherished its lord, it had wanted to succeed in the mission. Since its life belonged to its lord, it had made the mission into a priority. But this rendered it meaningless.

“I love you! I don’t want to let you die! Violet! Please live!!”

There was no meaning in it. No meaning at all. There was no significance in the beast’s life either.

“I love you.”

Besides, why? Why was he saying that? Why was he saying such a thing, now, at this moment?

“I love you, Violet.”

The beast attempted to digest the words its lord had just whispered. It did not comprehend them.

“Violet...”

The beast did not understand. It could not fathom the meaning of those words or his reasons to be uttering them.

“Are you listening, Violet?”

——Are they not, most likely, something special? Those are most likely not words that I should be told. They are most likely not something that you should say to me. If you must say them, then why?

“I like you.”

——Why did you use me? Why won’t you let me save you?

“I love you.”

——Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?

“I love you, Violet.”

It did not understand. It did not understand anything. Not its lord, this world or the words confessed to it.

And so, the beast howled while wailing. It howled at its one and only Lord. The most hardly replaceable thing in the world for the beast.

“What is ‘love’?”

Ironically enough, it was then that the beast accepted love for the first time and became a person.