#genuinely spent months working on this one and i cried more than once while editing it

[lesbian-space-fish]

But I will love you more than Death

[SPOILER WARNING!!]

[video id: video edit set to More Than Death by Creeper focusing on both the characters' struggles and the different relationships (platonic and romantic) between characters. Video length is 4:37. end id.]

[laugtherhyena]

So fun fact about me and the another series; I found out about it back in 2018 just one or two weeks before Ch3 came out and spend the next 3 or 4 years being hooked onto the game until the fixation died down and only returned to me around August or September of lasy year.

Meaning that through 2/3s of Sdra2 i was able to see the chapters as they were coming out and that's honestly something i wish more people in the current fandom could have experienced because it was so fun seeing the hype around a chapter that's soon to come out spike up with all kinds of theories, predictions and people hoping their favorites won't die (i remember i even had a dream once where chapter 5 released and Teruya murdered Iroha by tying her into a train track and waiting for it to run over her after she came to him and told him about being a void and he was like, trying to get rid of all remaining void by killing Iroha himself and wining the class trial, which would in kill Mikado too. Wild shit, but it's a dream you know?). And of course, whenever a new chapter did release the entire fandom would collectively freak out for the entire day as random instagram accs posted Cgs and bits of roughly translated information through the day alongside the deaths and executions and this hype around the newest chapter would sprout all kinds of art, edits and more theories for the following month or two.

All around awesome experience? Not exactly. Because this also means i got to see Linuj's crazy plot twist as they were being revealed and here's where we get to the actual subject of this long ramble/rant; Kokoro Mitsume and how i really wish i could have spoiled myself of what happens in Ch0 because that would have spared me of so much pain.

And let me tell you, when i say pain, i am by no means exaggerating. You people have no idea how much i cried when Ch0 came out. My little 15 year old head was going through the 5 stages of grief over that plot twist, that shit didn't even feel real to me until one or two days after its release.

One thing you gotta know about me is that before i became the Ayame person™ Kokoro was my absolute favorite character of the another series, and if you know me for even just a little while then you know how insanely attached i am to her despite being a minor character who dies 1/3 of the way through the game.

Like, y'all don't understand, i was so happy when i saw that one Cg of her and Mikado in my timeline, so genuinely ecstatic to see more of her after i thought her character done with since the events of Ch2. Can you magine how i felt after watching the character i adored so so much turn out to be a vile human being? I was genuinely so distraught man, i spent a good while being one of those people that ignored everything about the characters irl selves because that twist hurt me so damn much, but even then i was never able to look at that character the same way again, even now she just makes me feel bad.

And it's s not that i think Kokoro is the worst person to have ever existed, i like antagonist/villain characters who've done much worse than her, hell, I don't even think her character was absolutely ruined or anything. When i think about Mitsume nowadays i genuinely find her an interesting case of a good person with big plans who lacked a proper support system or even friends which led her down a path where she became cold and cruel without a semblance of care for her own family so long as she could work on her project, and seeing the difference between the Kokoro we see as a teen and her adult self just makes all of this even more heartbreaking. I still like her, is just that having my perception of this character be completely shattered when Ch0 came out permanently affected how i view her and as much as i still enjoy her character even now I can't help but simultaneously hate her for how she made me feel ❤️

[sincerely-sofie]

The finishing of this fanfic has left me with some pretty mixed emotions. On the one hand, I dont want it to end. It's such an incredible piece of work and even though I finally committed to reading it a few weeks ago, it already feels like such a significant part of my life. On the other hand, I'm a little glad that it's over. FAR from the sense it was bad (I'll steal your liver if thats how you interpret it) but moreso in the sense that it was like a good crying session. It's something that a lot of us (or I assume a lot of us) typically want to avoid even though we know its good for us, and satisfying after the fact. It's like catharsis in a way. Endings aren't always a great feeling in the moment, but it's something that we can look back on with a fondness.

I'm so glad I found this work. I'm being completely serious when I say that this fanfic, and the other content you make, has changed my life for the better. Its helped me reconnect with that love I have for creativity after nearly a decade of not making anything even though I wanted to. It's helped pulled me out of a few ruts of depression. It's helped me realize that I'm not actually emotionally stunted (per my own conclusions) and be more willing to cry instead of burying those feelings. In the past I would just, kill these kinda thoughts before they got far because of how much I wanted to avoid crying. Much less actually writing them down, or express them to someone else. But now, I've been crying the whole time I write this, and for the first time in, I think ever, I'm okay with that. I know we don't actually know each other, but you've genuinely helped me become a better person with the things you make. Thank you so much for everything you've done Sofie. hey look! I got your name right!

But enough about me. I feel like it's getting indulgent at this point. (I've gotten dehydrated with how much ive cried writing this and from what I can tell, you cry a lot more than I do. So go drink some water first, and then) I wanna hear your thoughts. What are your thoughts and feelings about your work being finished? Do you have plans to take a break from creative endevors for a while, or are you gonna keep going? Are you going to be expanding more on this and other au's, different fanworks or move into something completely your own? Whatever the case may be, I'm excited to see what more you are going to come up with!

From the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of everyone else, Thank you for everything.

It's so surreal to have posted that final chapter. I finished the first draft almost 100 days ago exactly, and I spent a number of days after completing it kind of adrift. I'd go to my computer every morning like I had during the month prior and sit down, ready to write, only to remember that I was actually supposed to be taking a break before I made the final edits.  It didn't click in my head that I had actually done it… until a couple weeks later when it hit me like a truck that I had an entire completed manuscript sitting in my Google Docs. I think I was making myself lunch at that moment, and I had to bolt to lie down on the floor and put my legs up against the wall because I was ready to pass out at the realization. 

This feels pretty similar. For me, The Present is a Gift— the main fanfic, at least— was finished in mid-January. But the process of uploading it and agonizing over what people thought of every passing update wouldn't be formally done until about 3 months later. It still hasn't clicked in my head that I won't be posting a new update once Tuesday rolls around. 

On the subject of taking a break— I've actually been taking a break, at least partway! I've barely written anything after I finished TPiaG's first draft, and I haven't drawn much “serious” art, for lack of a better word, since I started my blog. I've still been making things, yes, but scattered oneshots and sketchy pieces without solid lineart are not my typical fare. I'm usually a lot more “exact” with what I make— words fail me here— I hope I'm not being too vague! I might take a brief break as I finish up the winter semester, but that would be less a break from creating and more of an “OH MY WORD I NEED TO FOCUS ON NOTHING BUT PASSING THESE COURSES” kinda thing. 

TPiaG (along with its derivative AUs) is still very much a living project to me— there's a lot more stories the characters have in them, even if I struggle to envision a full-on sequel. I'm absolutely going to answer the asks relating to it that I've received over the months along with any I continue to receive, and if I get any ideas for comics or oneshots here and there, I'll make them. As for what's officially next up on the Sincerely Sofie menu, I'm planning to make a visual novel that's a lot more meaty than the last one I made. I'm not sure if it will be original or based on TPiaG— but a visual novel is the medium I'm planning on! 

I'm so overwhelmed by your kindness. I truly don't have any words. This project started off as something private to help distract me from a depressive episode and to process trauma, and it's become so much more. I'm so glad it was able to help you. Catharsis was the keyword for TPiaG— I wanted it to uproot difficult emotions and help people start to heal from them, but I never dreamed it would really help anyone but myself. So to hear it was able to provide you with that is unbelievably meaningful to me. 

I gave myself the goal somewhat recently to let myself cry whenever the urge strikes me. I used to go months without crying, and whenever I did shed tears, it was alone in my room while muffling the few sounds I accidentally let slip. I'm a natural crybaby, but I had schooled myself into thinking for a number of reasons that it was bad to cry— that it was selfish, or attention-seeking, or weak— so I've been trying to reclaim my teary-eyed identity. It's been difficult, but it's so freeing to let myself feel things fully. All of this is to say: let the tears fall. I've helped more people by crying than my stoicism ever did. 

Thanks again. I can't properly word my gratitude, but know that it's overwhelming :,>

[jesslockwood]

SOUR | T. Holland

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: angsty af, swearing

Summary: y/n and tom broke up, and when tom comes around with his new girl 2 weeks later, y/n is sour. 

A/n: I was hesitant to post this due to everything going on with tom lmao but yk, fuck it lol. anyways lmk if you want a part two cause I this was pretty short and I have ideas! also I didn’t edit this much lol so sorry for the mistakes!

His brown guilty eyes were enough to know that he moved on, in two weeks to be exact, after you broke it off. He was spotted recently with a girl he said he was just friends with, what a damn lie. 

You try to not let the tears out as you see them making their way on the red carpet of the movie premiere. He looked you straight in the fucking eyes, yet couldn’t even give you a heads up he was bringing a date tonight. You worked together for six months yet he didn’t have the decency.  

He betrayed you. He didn’t cheat but he betrayed you. 

You had even mentioned her by name before, yet he said you were paranoid and had nothing to worry about. What bullshit. 

She was just a new trophy for him, one that he’d put on the shelf later, or smash like it like you were broken. 

 It started out so sweet and innocent. You had met working together and had started dating under the radar, and you fell in love with him so quickly, even at his worst, but it didn’t matter. He moved on with you still in the picture and that’s what hurt the most. But he would never see or care about how much you hurt. He wasn’t sorry. 

Isn’t it funny how someone you thought could love you the way you loved them, was a damn traitor? 

He played all these twisted games with your mind, thinking that he felt the same way about you, or at least cared. 

God, you wanted to scream, she was sleeping in the bed you lied in and made with him. But she couldn’t care less, she got the prize, a shitty one at that. 

You didn’t get it, he couldn’t have fallen in love with someone that quickly, not after what you had. 

All you had done for Tom, it didn’t apparently matter to him, cause he’s dating her. He gave you his fucking word, that you were the one who meant something to him, you guessed he just used you.

She was gorgeous too, and she made you feel so small, unimportant and the paparazzi all turned to them, and barely any was paying any mind to you, the star of the movie. It sounded selfish but you put the blood sweat and tears into this movie, and all she had to do was walk with the man you put blood sweat and tears into, and she had all the attention.

He just had to bring her and was showing her off like a new trophy. God, you hated him. You hated him for hurting you like this. And yet, if he asked for you back, you would probably jump at the chance. 

He seemed so genuine and true when you had first met him. Brown doe-eyed, attentive and listening to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world, then things got ugly. He would play all these twisted games with you, making you feel like nothing one moment, and then his everything the next. 

He even gave you his fucking word and a promise ring that he would always love you, But Isn’t it funny? He’ll never feel sorry for breaking you. 

Suddenly one of your friends, well tom’s brother, wraps his arm around your waist, whispering to you, asking if your okay, before the paps get a few snaps in of the moment. Harry starts leading you away from the commotion before you cried. No one had asked you that until today. Which kind of shell shocked you, because you weren’t and he was the first person who seemed to care.

Harry at the moment couldn’t care less about the out-of-character way his brother was acting, especially towards you. Yes, he loved his brother but hated how he was acting. He couldn’t see how he could treat someone as lovely as you like that. 

Tom didn’t even notice the way you were destroyed. He let you go, Harry couldn’t understand why because tom seemed so happy with you, until nearing the end of the relationship. 

“Thank you, Harry.” you sniffle, once reaching the inside of the building. 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. I should be apologizing for my brother.”

You smile weakly at him. He wipes the tears from your eyes, before suggesting,

“After they have you up on stage for the thank you’s and stuff, we should just ditch this and go back to my hotel and get room service and raid my candy stash, if you’re up for it.”

“I’ll think about it,” you say with a more genuine yet sad smile.

“Let’s get in there, shall we?” he puts his arm out for you and you link yours in his. 

What you didn’t realize is that tom saw harry wiping your tears while doing an interview, and saw you link your arms together when he got inside. To say he was fuming doesn’t even cover how enraged he was. 

Once getting in, you realized you and tom would be sitting next to one another, something you truly wished you could get out of. 

“You’d better wish me luck.” You point to the seats. 

Harry got the bright idea to just take his brother’s spot. He wouldn’t care anyway, he had his new girl Zabrina. 

You and Harry had a small conversation about what both of you had been up to after he was Tom’s assistant for filming. You saw him almost every day when you and tom would hang out, harry being the third wheel. You had spent a decent chunk of time with him and definitely preferred the company over being alone, or with your ex.

“I can’t believe you dropped your SD card down the drain! Photos are your life, so you should have paid attention!” you laugh with him.

“Harry, You’re in my seat.” Tom interrupts, with a scowl on his face. 

“Can’t you just move down one? Y/n and I are talking here.”

“Tommy I can’t see from that seat!” Zabrina pouts like a child. 

“If she can’t see why do I have to sit there? I actually worked behind the scenes on this movie!” 

“Harry, don’t make me-”

“You know what! Harry and I were leaving after we thank everyone. So you two lovebirds can have the whole row!” you say venom seething from your mouth. 

“There you go, Tommy. Have a nice night you two!” Harry follows up, really sick of the attitude his brother was having.

Tom’s face turned red under the makeup he had on. He was enraged. His brother was betraying him. 

“Have a nice time, fucking around” he said, seeing red. he saw your face soften, from anger to confusion, to sadness. You didn’t think he thought so low of you.

“What the fuck tom! We aren’t-”

“It’s not worth it Harry, he’s not worth it,” you say sadly. Standing up, Turning to go towards the stage. 

That hit tom with a pang in his chest. He was just trying to get over you, to move forward. But maybe that was the problem. He just left you in the dust (peter parker is that you?) to navigate the way you felt over losing one of the best things you ever had. God, you wished you didn’t fall in love with him before he betrayed you. You wished he just would have thought it through before he ruined you. 

Your director motioned over to you and Tom to go up on the stage. 

“I’ll meet you outside, Y/n/n.” 

That was tom’s nickname for you. He came up with it and he was the only one who could call you that. You were his and he was yours. But yet he knew that long-distance was so fucking hard. He couldn’t put you or himself, so he found someone who was fine with the distance. Zabrina barely paid attention to him unless he wanted attention for herself, but he didn’t realize how he broke much more of you than the surface showed. 

“She’s really pretty, I hope she makes you happy,” you mention bitterly, hoping in a terrible way,  he’d never be as happy as he was with you. 

Before Tom, you scream out no one would make him happy as you did. Your director cut tom off.

After your director said thanks to everyone and the film started you grab your bag from your assistant, before heading to the exit, tom hurriedly tried to follow you, being caught by Zabrina, asking Tom to take a selfie with her, so she could commemorate her ‘prize’ when truly, Tom was using her as a rebound. 

“Zabrina, I need to talk to harry!” he whispers yells.

“Why? He literally is taking to your wretched ex?” she says with venom in her voice. 

Tom jogs around her, trying to get to you and Harry, While Zabrina dramatically calls after him.

He was too late, though, he saw you from the doors, you were already getting in your getaway car, with Harry. He ruined everything.

Harry and you were sitting in the limousine that was rented for you, before harry states, “He’ll be the one who crying, I promise you.”

“I always knew this is how He’d leave me. He found someone more exciting, and better than me. I was used a discarded like nothing.” you laugh through the tears.

“You’ll find someone who finds you exciting Y/n, and you’ll be their whole world.” he comforts you.

“Good for him I guess, but it’s like we never happened. Like what the fuck is that?” you ask.

“He’s acting like a damn sociopath.” harry shrugs.

You laugh at that one. 

“So what do you want to watch Y/n?”

“Would you hate me if I said legally blonde?”

“Not if we can watch fight club after.” 

“You have a deal, Sir!”

Tom however was stuck, watching you and him on screen. Reminiscing of how he fucked up. 

It was getting close to an intimate scene, probably his favorite one he’s ever done. All he could think about was someone else getting to touch you, and be with you, he wanted that but at the same time, he couldn’t deal with all the shit of being with you. The relationship was too good, so much that Tom thought sometimes he didn’t deserve someone like you. It was probably crazy of him for thinking like that, but he couldn’t bring you down with him, not when he was so fucked up. He wished he could be the one but he couldn’t so he just hoped you were okay.  

Tags:

@spideyspeaches

@greenorangevioletgrass

@queenofthepouges

@minejungwoo

@keithseabrook27

@lolooo22

@webmeupspiderdaddy

@harryhollandsgirlfriend

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// fatherhood headcannons //

Characters: Kozume Kenma / Akaashi Keiji / Oikawa Tooru

Request: Heyyy merry xmas (if you celebrate it) can I request kenma fatherhood hcs I saw you other ones before and it was so cute (and maybe him having a daughter )

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 1.8K (~550 a piece)

Notes: bokuto with stretch marks. That’s all. That’s the note.

Kozume Kenma:

Oof how to put this nicely . . . 

He was terrible. Absolute t r a s h during the pregnancy.  And it wasn’t on purpose.  He wasn’t just sitting there purposefully dismissing your aches and hormone-induced cries.  Kenma just didn’t know that it was actually a big deal.  He didn’t know that you were genuinely in serious amounts of discomfort.

You would say that your back was hurting and he’d be like, “yeah, mine too.”  Which is v a l i d.  He has videos to edit, so he spends a lot of time hunched over his desk, but you’re also carrying a child. H I S C H I L D so he could stand to be a little more sympathetic.

Morning sickness? He’s not about to be there to hold your hair back.  He’s still fast asleep.  Probably didn’t even know that you weren’t feeling well.  Kenma isn’t a total jerk about it.  He does care about you! I need to make that clear.  He does care.  He’ll ask you if you’re feeling better when you mention that you were sick earlier that day, ask if you need anything from the store, etc etc.

It’s really more or less the fact that he’s going to be a dad in less than nine months hasn’t fully set in??  He knows that you’re pregnant.  He’s been there for the ultrasounds.  He’s heard the heartbeat.  He knows that there will be a baby, but it’s like his brain hasn’t processed that it’s his baby yet.

And it doesn’t fully hit him until you wake him up in the night, hitting his shoulder frantically, saying that something doesn’t feel right and in his sleepy haze he can only think to ask-

“Is the baby okay?”

bitch i don’t know that’s the problem 

But he’s out of bed faster than you are, practically shoving shoes on your feet to get you out the door and into the car. pspsps there was no problem just l a b o r

Kenma didn’t cry when the baby arrived, honestly he didn’t even make any moves to hold his little girl when you offered her out to him.  He was just so in awe?  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  She was so tiny and he was so scared that he might break her if he tried to hold her.

It takes him awhile to settle into the whole fatherhood thing, but once he gets it, he gets it.  He becomes some kind of expert multitasker.  He’s got the guys on discord through his headset, heating up formula, daughter strapped to his chest with one of those baby holders, ready to get back to gaming with his little girl right there.

She makes a few guest appearances during his streams, because she’ll start crying, wanting attention or to be fed, which brings him to sitting at his desk, bouncing his baby on his lap, continuing on with his stream like it’s the most normal thing in the world, watching as his chat blows up with people obsessing over how cute his daughter is.

Akaashi Keiji

I’m sure this a shock to everyone, but Akaashi is fucking clueless.  He was an only child and his best friend is the youngest?  He never really had to think about babies before.

He tries to research, but he gets so caught up in, ‘Is this a credible source? Can I trust what they’re telling me?’ that he learns absolutely nothing.  Like he knows all of the actual science behind what’s happening, but he has no idea how to take care of a baby.  What kind of diapers are the best?  Should you breastfeed or would formula be the better option?  How quickly should you be trying to teach them things like speech or walking?

Lucky for Akaashi, when his female co-workers, especially the ones who were mothers themselves, found out the exciting news that Akaashi was expecting a baby with you they were giving him every piece of advice under the sun.  “You need to establish a sleep routine!  It’ll take a while, but the baby will get it eventually!” “I know they say that you shouldn’t run to your baby every single time they cry, but that’s actually really harmful for their psyche in the long run.” “Make sure to play lots of classical music, especially early on.  It helps with development!”

When it comes to you, he’s pretty hit or miss?  He’s observant! Absolutely! But, he’s not really sure how to help you when you’re feeling insecure about your body or scared that you’re not going to be a good parent.  He can tell you that you’re beautiful or that everything will be okay, but it never fails to make the situation worse because, “You’re my husband.  You have to say that.”

The hormones.  They do be throwing hands with him smh

Akaashi spent the entire last two months of your pregnancy baby proofing the entire house.  If you wanted a glass of milk, it took you nearly 10 minutes.  You know he means well, but he definitely went a little overboard.

He used to give your forehead a kiss every morning before he left for work, but now Keiji will lean in to kiss your forehead before squatting down to place a kiss on your stomach

He also helps you get ready in the morning.  Your range of motion definitely isn’t what it used to be now that you have a baby bump, so he’s more than willing to help you tie your shoes or hook your bra if you need him to.

PANICKED BOY DURING DELIVERY

Everything that he was told just left his brain and he suddenly forgot everything that he had been told.  He was holding onto your hand just as tightly as you were holding onto his, but he’s trying his best for your sake.

But the first moment that he sees his little baby all swaddled up in that blanket, you swear that you’ve never seen Akaashi’s eyes so wide and his face so blank.  It’s like you could see the gears turning in his head, trying to process everything that just happened.  

He’s absolutely silent.  He doesn’t say a single word or make any noise when he finally has the opportunity to hold his son for the first time.  He can do nothing but stare.  It’s really a sight to see.  The two best things in your life just staring at one another with absolute wonder.

Akaashi takes his baby’s development very seriously.  He wants his son to be just as smart as the both of you some day, so he takes it upon himself to read to his son before every single nap.  

Poor Keiji has read Green Eggs and Ham more times than he would like to admit.

Oikawa Tooru

Now listen. I know we all want to give him shit, but my god is he the only one who knows what the hell is going on 

He has a sister who has been through this whole pregnancy thing at least once. He’s not helpless.  He knows how to take care of a kid.  Oikawa Tooru can rock a baby to sleep faster than you can say Seijoh.  He’s just that good.

Tooru bought you the ugliest pair of sneakers when your feet started to swell and your other sneakers started to get uncomfy, but god damn they were the best pair of shoes that you ever put on your feet.  Well, that he put on your feet.  It’s kind of difficult to put shoes on when there’s a uh . . . big ol’ bump in the way.

He frequently talks to your stomach in Spanish and has already given the little bean a nickname to match the Spanish one he gave you.  He also hums little songs while he rubs your stomach ugh lots of sweet vibes from oikawa

And it’s literally because his sister sent him P A R A G R A P H S just to tell him how to take care of you while you were pregnant.  All of these little things that he never would have thought of like getting one of those grabber things so you didn’t have to bend over so much or keeping snacks and anything you could possibly be craving on a low shelf so you didn’t hurt yourself climbing for the bag of pretzels.

While Tooru loves you and would do anything for you, he absolutely refuses to rub your feet.  Do not even bother asking.  He will turn up his nose and look at you like you’ve lost your mind.

He’s always telling his teammates about you and how big you’ve gotten, what size his little baby is, what names he was thinking about.  Ah it’s so cute.  He invites some of them over to help him put together the nursery, asking them if they prefer the elephants or the bears?  Should they choose yellow or maybe a nice grey?

When it came to the actual delivery of the baby, he was so calm???  Like?? Unnervingly calm?  He just held your hand, running his other hand over your head, pushing your hair back, reminding you to breathe just like he had practiced with you, telling you that you’re doing so well, that it will all be over and worth it soon.

And it really was.  Seeing his face light up with the most adoring smile that you had ever seen as he took his little one into his arms was one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.  He was absolutely in love and all it took was one little look and he was already cooing and making silly faces.

But those goofy faces and cute voices were just to mask the tears that had welled in his eyes at finally being able to hold the most beautiful thing on the planet.  He never thought he’d get to be a dad, settling down was something that had always seemed so distant and strange to him until he met you.  And yet, here he was.  A full-fledged dad, on the verge of sobbing as he held onto his first-born as if his entire universe would crumble if he looked away for even a second.

Please don’t even get me started on when his kiddo wrapped their hand around his finger.  SOBBED.  He’s gone.  Absolutely bawling his eyes out.

Ugh i could go on forever about dad!oikawa he’d just be so 10/10

{taglist: @moncymonce​ @nicka-nell​ @lovinnoya​ @celosiiaa​ @ush7jima​ @deephasoceanmagic​}

[prettyflyshyguy]

Oops I wrote more C virus stuff

I got super energised and spent all night drafting up a one-shot about what happens when Ashley reunites with Leon post RE6 in the C-Virus AU cannon. It’s unfinished and is very much a draft, but I’m excited so I wanted to post what I have so far. I intend on compiling a bunch of these together and putting them up as chapters on AO3 and Fanfic.net once they’re edited, featuring various different characters.

You came this far just to become a Monster - The Aftermath

A brief summary: Ashley visits Leon while he’s stuck in quarantine. It gets a bit emotional. 

I’m assuming the President in RE6 was the same in RE4 despite the uh long time difference between the two games. It’s 9 years and I’m Australian so I know nothing about American politics but I think a president can only serve 8 years in one stint so uh maybe he’d just been elected in 4 and was just running out of time before he died in 6? I’m rolling with that for the sake of my head-cannon/AU storylines. It makes sense given Leon was described as being good friends with him, and we can assume the friendship started once he got Ashley back home safely after the events of 4. 

Given Ashley was 19/20 during RE4 she should be 28/29 post RE6 depending on her birthday. 

-

The conversation with Hunnigan echoed in her mind as she walked down the labs corridor. 

“While pursuing Chief Security Advisor Simmons, Leon became infected with the C Virus. He’s OK, don’t worry. It’s just we’re still running tests to make sure he’ll stay ok.

I know the report I gave you didn’t have much to go on in it, I’m sorry. I wasn’t allowed to provide you with much more information. You’ll just have to wait until you can see him for yourself.

He’s happy to talk with you, you can go down to the labs today if you’d like.”

“He’s happy to talk? You mean I can’t see him?”

The warm smile was betrayed by the sorrow in Hunnigan’s eyes. 

“He’s still adjusting to everything. He’s spoken to a couple of our doctors and he’s dealing with a lot of internal negative emotions right now, about what people think of him. I don’t think the tests are helping.”

Hunnigan reached out and gently held Ashley’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you visit. It’s what he really needs right now. Trust me.”

-

Standing outside the viewing room door, holding her keycard at the ready, she steeled herself. The way the security staff described the setup, Leon had access to a shutter system on the viewing window, giving him control over how and when visitors can see him. It allowed him much needed privacy given his life since coming home was endless tests and scans and scientists. 

Tapping her card against the reader, the light flicked green and she heard the lock release. Pressing down on the cold handle, she slipped inside. There was a small coffee table near the viewing window, the shutter was down. A few chairs were on the far wall, she pulled one up to the window and sat down. On the table there was a remote control, it looked custom made for the setup. It only had a handful of buttons, the most important of which was a ‘call’ button that she was told would alert Leon that someone was in the room, and a ‘mic on’ button. The room had an inbuilt microphone and speaker system to allow comfortable communication even if large groups were there. 

It felt uncomfortably sterile. Worse than a hospital. She looked up to the top left corner of the room, where a security camera stared back. She was also told Leon had access to the feed. She wondered if he was watching now? Hunnigan said she’d call ahead. Was he waiting for her to do something first? Would he be upset that she was so hesitant? 

Shaking off the feeling she hit both buttons on the controller and flashed a smile and a wave towards the security camera, for good measure.

A moment passed before she heard a light clicking sound on the intercom, before a voice emerged.

“Ashley, hey…”

She was surprised that he sounded so… Normal. She wasn't sure what she expected, no one had given her any information other than that he’d been infected but he hadn’t lost his mind. There was an extensive report written about the events that went down, she’d been able to convince the BSAA to let her read a copy of it but it was heavily redacted. Particularly the parts pertaining to Leon. 

“It’s… good to see you.”

She was relieved to hear the sincerity in his voice, despite how slightly rough around the edges he sounded. He was Leon, that hadn’t changed. But she could tell he was different all the same.

“It’s good to, uh, hear you, haha..”

Her feet shuffled, she started bouncing one leg. Looking longfully at the window glass with the shutter still closed. She was fine with phone calls but this was making her nervous. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d last spoke, that they’d last caught up in person. 

“I’m sorry, about your dad. I’m sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I’m sorry for everything, Ashley.”

“It’s ok, Leon. You did everything you could.”

Despite the lack of contact, the uncomfortable fog in the room was palpable for both parties. Her leg bouncing rate increased. Shuffling could be heard over the intercom speaker. They each heard the pain in the other’s voice. The wound was still fresh and very deep. 

Not wanting to have that conversation to a wall, Ashley attempted to change the subject.

“So how are you holding up? I mean with the tests and everything. Hunnigan said you shouldn't have to be in isolation much longer.”

“Uhh yeah… It’s fine. I’m doing fine.”

She let out a small sigh.

“You can’t bullshit me, Leon.”

Silence. 

“You’ve been stuck inside that room for almost three months now. You must be tired of it, and lonely.”

She paused, before continuing.

“When I got back from Europe after you rescued me, they kept me in isolation for precautionary testing for two weeks. They were paranoid I guess. I know for you they didn’t need long to clear you of any issues. Those two weeks were the worst of my life.”

“Worse than being injected with a mind-controlling parasite?” he joked back. 

“Much, much worse.” she playfully replied, “I didn’t have a strong, capable, and handsome government agent to save me from a bunch of creepy scientists in hazmat suits.”

She heard what sounded like a muffled laugh. A smile crossed her face. 

“Unfortunately for me the only ‘strong, capable, and handsome’ government agent I know is limited to Visitors on Wednesdays only.”

This made Ashley giggle suddenly, the first time she’d properly and genuinely laughed since before the C-Virus incident even occurred. 

“When I came home, Dad was so worried. He just wanted to make sure I was gonna be ok. He was always so busy and worked so hard. He just wanted to make sure he could change something for the positive. In the end you made sure that happened. You and Helena.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and gently dropped off her chin. Followed by another.

“I’d known Simmons for just about my whole life, he’d had family dinners with us, we’d visit his house frequently. Dad had confided in him about so much I just… I can’t believe he’d betray us like that. I can’t believe he would be so selfish.”

The tears were making it hard for her to see, her words were mixed in with sharp breaths as she began to sob.

“He killed dad and all those people, after everything, he just fucking killed him and killed everyone else and burned it to the ground all for what!! And now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do, Leon I just don’t know what to fucking do!”

She cried for a moment, letting the anger and the grief flow. Purging her system, letting it out. As she started to calm down she pulled a packet of tissues from her bag, to clean her face.

“I want to make a difference. I want to do something, like dad did.” she said slowly through strained breaths.

“I never want to feel helpless and small ever again. After you rescued me in Europe, after everything you did to stop Simmons, I want to do something for the world too.” 

She glanced up at the security camera, as if it would respond back somehow. Hoping he was watching.

“You and dad made me realise what I wanted to do with my life, what I cared most about. I even changed my college degree to International Relations when I got home but I mean, you already know that. Now with the BSAA here, I’ve asked Hunnigan if she can help me shift my career slightly, and work with you and everyone else here.”

“Really? You want to work for the BSAA?”

She nodded, not knowing if he could even see. Taking the moment to have a drink from her water bottle to gather herself.

“... I’ll put in a personal recommendation, if they’re still accepting those from me after everything.”

“Thank you Leon, I’m sure they will.” Ashley smiled.

“Well if they let me do anything, once the tests are cleared, I’d like to go visit your old man with you. If you don’t mind. I couldn’t be there for the funeral so… “

“Of course Leon,” she wiped a tear from her eye, “I’d love that. I’m sure dad would too.”

“I think you’d be great here, we need more people like you Ashley.”

“Of course, someone needs to be around to stop you getting into more trouble right?”

She was hoping for a smart ass response, a laugh, a quip, something. Her comment was met with silence. Her heart sank.

“What happened to you, Leon?”

He avoided responding, she could hear more slight shuffling noises.

“I know you feel uncomfortable, god knows I would too. Everyone’s talking about you, saying you’re a hero. You and all the others that worked together to stop the C-Virus from spreading. You saved people's lives.”

“... I don’t think you’d be calling me that if you could see me right now.”

The most she’d gotten to read about the effects of the virus on him were small comments about carapace and ‘external structural changes’. In all honestly she had no idea what he looked like, if he was even recognisable. She didn’t really know how to ask, besides the fact she really only knew Hunnigan well enough to be confident posing the question.

“I wouldn’t know. No one’s shown me any photos of you. I have no idea.”

He was silent again.

“But you’re still you, in the end. Does it matter what you look like?”

“It does when you look like a monster.”

She recoiled slightly at the tone of his voice.

“When I was in China, when it happened. It didn’t really matter to me. People's lives were at stake, Simmons was out there, I embraced it in the moment because I couldn't let people down. I needed to do something. I couldn't just give up and avoid facing the world. But now? I’m stuck in this cell and every few days I get more needles poked into me and more scans and more people asking me stupid fucking questions and I just.”

He paused suddenly. Breathing for a few moments.

“I can’t deal with all of this. I’m as good as a lab animal now. And why would anyone think any differently if they saw what I’ve become.”

“C’mon, don’t say that.”

Suddenly the shutter began to move upwards, a brighter light from the room beyond the glass spilling in. It took Ashley a moment to adjust before she could fully stare at the figure sitting opposite her.

“If you were in trouble and the thing that came to help you looked like this, would you still call it a hero?” 

[pebblysand]

OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Mission (Bokuto x reader)

A/N: soooo ive been a depressed bitch and havent updated in months, sorry about that... I didnt even edit this, so beware typos ahead. Disabled reader x bokuto.

side note-if you guys think this is shit, just message me so i can delete it ✌✌

word count: 4435

Y/N sat in the gym on the sidelines, watching the team practice. Personally, she would never play. She was in a wheelchair, most likely for life. She hated it. She couldn’t play the game anymore. 

Bokuto tried getting her to help him toss the ball, but she was too embarrassed to roll over and attempt setting. Whenever Bokuto asked her to play, Akaashi would whack him on the back of the head and tell her she could just watch if she wanted.

Akaashi understood her. He watched out for her, and she really appreciated that. But Bokuto was just too much fun.

Those two, Bokuto and Y/N, have been friends for a long time. She met him when she was five, having moved into the city, directly in the house beside his. Their parents set up dozens and dozens of playdates until they eventually began walking to school and eating lunch together and talking all the time.

Then, there was an accident and suddenly, she couldn't play anymore. Bokuto was sad she couldn't play with them. He asked her many times. But, she always said no, and she wanted to cry each time.

At the same time, Bokuto always defended her, keeping other people, ones that could be rude to her for her disability, off her back. He also spent a lot of time making her laugh like crazy on the sidelines. He would send her funny looks and stick out his tongue whenever any teammate spiked past him.

To this day, he made her so happy.

“Y/N! Y/N! Did you see that?!” he asked her excitedly, running over to her with the biggest smile on his face.

With a nod, a silly grin grew on her face. “Yeah. You did awesome as always, Bokuto-kun,” she praised him, which sent him into a sort of euphoric stage. He got so hyper. No one ever praised him, especially not Akaashi. Yet, she always did.

“I’m gonna go play again. I'll do even better this time, for you!” he exclaimed before turning on his heel and rushing back onto the court. He was the captain, so he could run on and off the court as he pleased. At first, his team got annoyed with him for it, for running to that girl all the time. After a while, they accepted it, believing that there was nothing that could stop him.

That was one more thing they admired about their ace and captain. He was incredibly loyal to his best friend, Y/N. In a decade of knowing each other, the number of fights they had could be counted on one hand. He walked her home, ate lunch with her everyday, sat beside her in nearly every class, and took her to every practice and game they had.

He didn't care that she was in a wheelchair. He never even thought about it. While other people brought it up, he smiled proudly at his strong, brave best friend. He’d seriously kick some ass if anyone harassed her, too.

And she watched all the games and practices too. She always cheered him on and praised him whenever he did well. If she did that, he worked even harder and got  better. She loved going home with him, listening to him talk and laugh and tell the stupidest jokes you’ve ever heard.

She was so shy, but he brought out the best in her. He really, really did.

Practice came to a close after another hour. She made sure her bag was hung on one of the handles and her keys were in her pocket. Bokuto took a shower and got all his things together before he approached her, bouncing on his feet happily.

“Y/N, do you wanna get ice cream with Kuroo tonight?”

She grinned, nodding excitedly. She loved Kuroo too. He was funny and snarky, but equally as foolish as Bokuto whenever they got together. “Yeah! Just let me text my mom, okay?”

Quickly, she texted her mom to tell her she was going out for a little while with Bokuto. A minute later, her phone chimed. Her mother sent her a smiley face and a message saying, ‘be back by ten.’

Her mom was always nervous about her going out by herself, which was understandable. She trusted Bokuto though, and occasionally, she even let Kuroo take Y/N out to games. She’d known them for so long, it made her comfortable knowing her daughter was in good hands.

She pocketed her phone again. “She said it was okay. Let's go,” she cheered. He hung his book bag on the handle of her wheelchair before turning her around and pushing her toward the door.

“Bye, L/N-senpai!” Onaga called to her. She eagerly waved to him. A chorus of goodbyes rang out to her as she left. Everyone on the team liked her, genuinely. If they didn't, Bokuto would be furious. Fortunately, that never happened.

“Y/N, have you seen any good movies lately?”

“Not really.”

He nodded, a little hum in the back of his throat in agreement. “Yeah, there really isn't anything out right now, is there?” He always asked her about movies because she watched them all the time, mostly in class while she was on her phone...she wasn't exactly the best student.

She added, “But, I saw a movie, and the main character reminded me of you.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. He was super funny and really loud, and his hair stuck up just like yours.”

“Was he handsome?”

“Yep.”

“Hey! Hey! Hey! That's even better, Y/N!”

She looked down at her hands in her lap, thinking of what to say next. She felt so awkward calling him handsome, just wanting to change the topic before he could say anything else.

“Training camp is coming up, right? At Nekoma?”

“Yep, yep. Next week.” He pushed her up on the sidewalk of the street, only about seven blocks away from the ice cream place they always went to. “Do you want to come and watch me practice?”

“Of course I do!”

“Awesome!”

She clasped her hands together and smiled shyly, her eyes trailing to her lap. “And I’ll get to meet everyone.”

He pouted, feverishly shaking his head. “No! All those guys will like you too much! They’ll take you away from me! Gah!” he cried, his mood dropping pathetically in a moment.

Comfortingly, she placed a soft hand on his and shook her head subtly. “Are you kidding? You’re the bestest friend in the entire world. None of those guys could ever replace you,” she told him, giving his hand a gentle pat.

“Yeah, but you always get so excited when we hang out with Kuroo…” he continued to mope despite her assurance.

She only rolled her eyes. “That's because Kuroo is a good friend. I don't have that many friends, you know?”

“Why do you need a lot of friends when you have me?”

“You are definitely a handful. Enough for me,” she mumbled, turning back around in her seat. She could see the familiar sign of the cute little ice cream parlor. It wasn't anything like some ice cream bars from the convenience store, it was thick creamy goodness covered in whatever toppings she wanted. Sometimes, she worried about getting chubby when she went there too often.

Still, no matter what she said, Bokuto was irked. Truthfully, he worried that Kuroo would steal Y/N away from him. He was taller and handsome and funny and really cool sometimes. Cooler than him…

“You okay, Bokuto-kun?”

He jumped out his thoughts at the sound of her sweet voice. “Yeah. Yep, I'm totally good.” That sounded fake as hell, but okay.

She pushed open the door to the store with her arm and they entered. It was cold in there, but really pleasant. It smelled like a wonderland of sweets, her favorite guilty pleasure. The cashier, a sweet young man, called to her and Bokuto over the counter.

“Hey, L/N-san, Bokuto-san!” He waved to them both.

“Hi, Kiku! We're just waiting for Kuroo.”

“Okay then. Just tell me when you're ready!”

Just then, the door flew open and the captain entered, his hair even messier from the wind outside. Y/N giggled, waving at him shyly. “You look so weird, Kuroo!” she confessed when he approached.

His brows furrowed, and he sent her a judging look. Nevertheless, he still leaned down for his hug. He always hugged her, claiming he found her positively adorable. “L/N, its been a while.”

“Kuroo, we just saw you last Wednesday,” she whined. He stepped back, and grinned down at her.

“Sup, Brokuto,” he nodded to his friend who waved back, muttering out a greeting. He didn't know why but, he was burning with jealousy. Why did Kuroo have to hug her all the time? And why was she always giggling around him? It frustrated him to no end.

She was only supposed to hug him and smile when he told jokes, and giggle like some stupid schoolgirl when he did something cute. He kept hanging out with Kuroo, but it still irritated him anyway.

“Bokuto, are you sure you're okay?” she asked him, concern lacing her words. Her soft fingers once again rested upon his own, and it knocked him from his jealous thoughts.

He nodded, pushing her over to the counter where Kuroo was already getting his chocolate ice cream, like he got every time. He paid for the cup, knowing the exact change by now. Kiku then looked down at Y/N.

Same thing as always. “Vanilla with cherries, please.”

“And you, Bokuto?”

He thought for a second, not that it really mattered. “Uh, I'll just have the same thing,” he replied simply. There was a small hum of affirmation as the boy scooped up two cups of ice cream and spooned on the candy cherries.

Bokuto pulled out six hundred yen, handing it to Kiku behind the counter. Meanwhile, Y/N grabbed the ice cream from the counter, one cup in her right hand and the other in her left.

They always sat at the small table by the window, two seats across from each other and a big space in the middle for Y/N to sit at. Kuroo was already there, munching on his ice cream.

“Kuroo, you should have seen Bokuto-kun today! He was so amazing. He didn't mess up once, and he did this amazing quick set with Akaashi!” she explained, proceeding to spoon ice cream into her mouth. She sent a happy smile to Bokuto, causing him to grin proudly. He was pretty awesome if his little Y/N thought so.

“As good as me though?” Kuroo joked.

“Aw, Kuroo, you know I can't answer that. You both are so good!”

Why couldn't she answer that? Bokuto was her best friend in the entire world. She always told him he was the best ace in the whole prefecture. Kuroo wasn't even an ace. So why couldn't she just say he was better?

Then again, she always did like Kuroo more than him. She thought he was so cool…

Kuroo piped up, just as Bokuto was about to try and tell a joke. His smile was quick to dissolve though.“Hey, Y/N, can I have a cherry?” he asked, eyeing her cup.

She shrugged and lifted out one of the vibrantly red cherries by the stem. She held it out for him to take, only he just leaned forward and bit off the cherry right off the stem between her finger tips. A smirk grew on his lips as he watched her cheeks turn a bright red, and her to quickly look down at her ice cream.

That was so weird.

It made Bokuto furious.

He stood up abruptly, and all eyes rose to his figure. He tried playing it off though. “I almost forgot. Kuroo, I have to talk to you about...volleyball stuff. Let's go outside.”

“But-”

“Sorry, Y/N-chan. This is some serious business. We’ll be back in a minute, I promise,” he told her, a single hand tapping her on the head. She rolled her eyes and nodded at his gesture.

Bokuto then forcibly yanked Kuroo outside with him, making sure the door was shut before totally losing his cool. “Dude, what the hell? Stop flirting with her.”

Kuroo sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, Bro. You know I'm only joking around.” His words meant absolutely nothing to Bokuto, who was angry, but mainly just dejected and sad.

He didn't understand why this was all happening. Why his friend was flirting with his crush. Why his childhood friend, best friend, and future girlfriend, was blushing and giggling around his other friend. He didn't like any of it, and his heart hurt.

“No! I really, really like her! She's my soulmate! If you keep doing that kinda stuff, she's gonna like you instead!” he exclaimed, his fists releasing at his sides. He felt terrible, like his life was being stolen from him, life being Y/N. He might even cry.

Kuroo sighed, shaking his head once again. He was being jealous for no reason at all. If only he would listen and quit being so ignorant. “She'd be nuts if she liked me when she already has you.”

“Huh?”

“You're the only guy ever who has loved her through everything. You take care of her. You push her around all day, and bring her to all your games, and you buy her ice cream all the damn time. You walk her home, you make her laugh, and you kick ass whenever someone makes fun of her,” Kuroo explained. “She’s crazy if she doesn't love you.”

He shuffled, feeling let down still. “She only sees me as her best friend.”

Kuroo placed his hands on the guys shoulder firmly. He looked at him completely seriously and practically commanded, “Well, you have to change that! Make her fall in love with you!”

“I can do that?!”

“Hell yeah, bro!” he cheered. “Mission: Make L/N Y/N fall in love with you.” That's what they called it. They decided that the plan would commence on Monday. By now, Bokuto was desperate; he needed Y/N to love him back because he can't imagine a day in his life without seeing her.

But he failed to realize one thing. Their plan was completely pointless.

________________________

Monday. The day he would make Y/N fall in love with him. He woke up that morning and brushed his hair, making sure it looked really good, slick and charming. He chewed a ton of gum, just to make sure his breath stayed minty even after brushing his teeth. He even went so far as wearing the uniform correctly with the tie and all. Normally, he only wore the shirt and blazer.

He left the house with a smile on his face and walked up the sidewalk to her door. He knocked a couple times until her mother opened the door. “Koutarou-kun, you're early today,” she hummed. “You look quite handsome today, too. Did you do something with your hair?”

“Yep! Thank you, L/N-san,” he said with a nod of his head. He was relieved to hear her say he looked good. He needed to look his best for Y/N.

Behind her mother, the girl wheeled over with her bag in her lap. She looked adorable, as always. Her hair was perfect, and her face was bashful with those red cheeks and cute smile. She was an angel, and he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be as attractive as her.

“Bye, you two. Have a good day at school.” her mother said, moving out of the way so Y/N could roll outside. Bokuto waved to the woman as she shut the door. From there, he took the handles of her chair and started down the ramp.

When they were on the sidewalk, her voice made him pause. “Bokuto, come here,” she told him, waving for him to stand in front of her. She scanned his figure with scrutiny, noticing every little detail that was off about him that morning.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “What-”

“You look so weird today. Why’d you do that to your hair?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, puzzled. It didn't look good in her eyes, only strange and uncomfortable.

He flushed, not expecting those words from her. He thought she would be impressed. “Get down here.” He leaned down and immediately felt her hands running through his hair. She hummed as she did so, making sure that all the spikes were back in order. Then, when she was done with that, her hands went to his tie. She slipped it from his neck. “Now you look like the Bokuto I love,” she laughed with a smile on her perfect lips.

His cheeks flared, and he hurried back behind her, pushing her along. He tried his best to hide his fluster, but she was too much for him to handle. She said she loved him, sure, it wasn't anything romantic, only friendly, but she still said it. His heart soared in his chest, and he felt like he could fly.

Wait...he was supposed to be making her feel that way. His plan was already failing. He would have to step up his game.

Swiftly, despite his nerves, he swooped down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. It lingered for only half a second before he pulled away. His cheeks were even brighter now, whereas hers failed to change color at all. Was she not embarrassed at all? He just kissed her and she didn't care.

Why?!

“Gosh, that's new,” she giggled, pressing her fingertips to her cheek. “What was that for?”

“Because you're so cute.” Beautiful. Funny. Adorable. Sweet. Kind. Brave. Perfect. He would list all those things and even more, if only he wasn’t such a coward.

He, at least, expected a reaction to that but she only smiled and shook her head. “You’re too much, Bokuto.” Not a blush, not a shake in her voice, nothing.

He was failing, dammit.

The walk to school was short, mostly because he was thinking of ways to woe Y/N. There were so many thoughts in his head that he thought could work, but this girl was unfazed and he didn't know if he even had a chance of getting a reaction, much less evoking love.

Classes went by quickly as well, mostly because he couldn't focus at all. Multiple times, he was scolded by his teachers for not doing his work. And when he took her to practice, he couldn't even say anything. He just pouted and dragged his feet.

She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she knew he wouldn't tell her the truth. Something about him was just so off today.

And then she sat on the sidelines, watching everyone play. She said nothing, she couldn't. Bokuto kept messing up. He hit the ball into the net four times, and he kept spiking the ball out of the box. He wasn't his normal self, and it was hurting the team today.

Eventually, he shouted, voice pained and anguished, “Don't pass to me anymore! I’m a terrible ace!” His head dropped and he walked off the court, and called for a five minute break. Then, he went to sulk in the corner.

Akaashi walked over to Y/N, who was sitting on the side biting at her nails nervously. She’d never seen Bokuto mess up this badly. It was making her anxious. Something must have happened to him to make him this upset. It was even more concerning that he wouldn't tell her what was wrong. He always vented to her.

The boy looked down at her boredly. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don't know! Ever since this morning, he’s been upset, but he won't tell me!” she cried, dramatically pressing her face into her hands. “I’m so worried about him!”

“Hmm, that's strange,” Akaashi muttered. He sent a look to the captain, who was still sulking, but this time, he was sneakily staring at his two friends. He tried to hide it by keeping his head down, but it was obvious his eyes were glued on them.

She mumbled, oblivious to his gaze, “I don't know what to do.”

“Yell at him. Say something to make him feel better. You've been pretty quiet all practice, you know.” He placed a hand on her shoulder with a small pat.

She lifted her head, mustering up some courage and her voice. He was right. Her encouragement always brought him out of his dejection mode. “Kou-kun! You can do it! You're the best ace in the whole world!” she yelled to him. “I believe in you!”

Immediately, he perked up. His hair seemed like it spiked up higher with his happiness. It was so cute. His cheeks turned red, and he turned around, approaching the court.

Akaashi knew what was going on. He didn't say anything, but he did send her a quiet, “good job” under his breath. Damn, those two, so in love with each other it made him want to throw up.  

The practice continued after that, and just as she said, he did so much better. All his spikes were amazing. He was back in the game. Her heart beat faster, excited that her simply words could make him feel so much better.

When he performed a particularly strong and amazing spike, he screamed. He ran across the court to Y/N, grabbing her hands tightly and shaking them. His expression was begging for praise, and she would give him some...right after he released her hands. “Bokuto, your hands are sweaty.”

The smile on his face faltered. Damn, rejected once again.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird all day…”

“No! I’m not okay!” he shouted, almost theatrically. He turned his head, his eyes shut and his cheeks puffed out in a strong pout. She raised a hand to touch his arm, but he only stepped away, huffing.

She frowned, biting her lip. Was he upset this whole time because of her? She didn't think she'd done anything wrong, but with Bokuto, it could be one of the littlest things to set him off. It made her so incredibly sad.

She asked tentatively, her words just barely a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

He said nothing though. He only ducked his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine! Don’t tell me! Talk to stupid Akaashi instead!” she yelled him, turning her head away from him as well, arms crossed and cheeks in a pout. Akaashi, in the distance, sighed. He wasn't even offended, just fucking exhausted. This entire argument was ridiculous.

Bokuto wanted to maintain the silent treatment, but he couldn't. He felt like his mouth was gonna burst open and his mind was going to explode with all the self-deprecating things bouncing around in there.

“Why do you like Kuroo more than me?!” he questioned, sending her a glare. “What makes him so special that you have a crush on him?” He said it. He finally said it.

So much for that plan. It was out the window and burning now.

Why the hell had he come to that conclusion? In no way, ever, would she like Kuroo. If that was what Bokuto was upset about all day, then he was a complete dumbass. “I don't have a crush on Kuroo, Bokuto! Why the hell would you think that?”

“Because you always hug him and laugh at his jokes and flirt with him and giggle and do all that stuff when he's around!”

“You dumbass, I do those same things around you too. I’d never let Kuroo kiss me, you know? I wouldn't fix his hair if he changed it, because I don't care about him or how he looks. You know who I care about?” She looked right at him as if challenging him to say anything other than the right answer. “You. I thought that was obvious!”

“Well, I care about you a lot more, Y/N. You're my favorite person ever, and I don't want anybody taking you away from me,” he exclaimed. “Not Kuroo, not Akaashi, no one!”

“No one's ever gonna do that, Bokuto. I told you that. You're all I need!”

“Why don't you love me then?!” he blurted out without thinking. “I love you so much, and I thought you knew. How did you not notice, Y/N? How can you not love me back?” That was embarrassing, but he couldn't go back on it now. Maybe he just ruined everything...He didn't know.

But he sure did feel like a total disaster.

She gaped at him. He was always up front, but he never said something like that. Was that why he kissed her this morning? Did he fix his hair and uniform just for her? Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought.

She loved Bokuto. Everyone on the planet knew she loved him, just not him.

Stupid.

“Come here, you crazy birdbrain,” she ordered, waving him closer. He was so tall, so tall that she hated the difference. But when he leaned down, she could reach him just fine. Gently, she placed both her cold hands on his cheeks before yanking him against her. For such a small girl, she was strong.

Her lips smashed to his. She kissed him with her eyes squeezed shut and her lips pressed together. It was so awkward and clumsy, since it was her first kiss after all.

His eyes remained open, wide and shocked. Y/N was kissing him. His soulmate was finally kissing him. He felt like he was in a dream. He placed his hands on the arm rests of her chair to keep himself steady. Suddenly, his legs felt so shaky he might fall over.

She pulled away and just stared at him. “I love you, stupid,” she told him firmly. His shocked open mouthed gap quickly turned into a wild, ecstatic grin. He jumped back, throwing both his fists in the air, falling to his knees, and proceeding to screech.

Y/N stifled her laughter with her hand. He was just too cute. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing all the members of the team watching in amusement. Everyone knew they would get together one of these days.

Even Kuroo.

[crqstalite]

crossroad.

a majority of this was done during a writing sprint (edit, half of it was) but i couldn’t just let it fade away! so instead, because i’m still upset about anders [and i miss bethany + fem!hawke], here’s a post!da2 work for you and me.

word count: 6,083.

-

“are you afraid? of what lays after all of...this?” bethany’s voice. reyna tries not to jump, but inevitably, she does. her sister is no longer in her circle robes, instead dressed down with her hair tied back, “the gallows are gone, the circle is gone, meredith is dead, orsinio is dead...”

“please, bethany. for the love of andraste do not panic.” reyna tries not to snap at her, but she does it anyway, picking through what things she can fit in her pack. the red scarf she’s donned around her neck comes undone, and she pulls it away roughly before shoving another shirt away, ��donnic and aveline are staying here, and you’re staying with them. you’ll be perfectly safe, there’s no reason to be afraid.”

“i-” bethany hesitates, then resigns to sitting on the bed, picking at her sleeve, “i asked if you were afraid, not what i was going to do after all of this.”

“you know what i intend to do,” reyna yanks the suitcase out from under the bed roughly, the latches clicking open as she flicks a bandaged hand over one.

“running away from kirkwall into the night isn’t a plan, rey.” bethany responds in a nagging tone tinged with genuine concern, folding her legs on the bed, “it’s an escape route.”

“and that’s exactly what i need, whether you like it or not,” reyna responds, folding a shirt away into the bag at her side. she’s avoiding bethany’s deep brown eyes, the same ones that she knows will be crying out to keep her from leaving, or to force her to leave sooner. but reyna has made her decision, she can’t come back from this, “the templars will sniff me out soon enough. and because they can’t use me as some example of a mage gone rogue with the chantry’s brand, they’ll kill me for this.”

bethany doesn’t answer after that, and they sit in silence.  she feels bad about talking to her like that, but she has to. bethany is twenty five now, she isn’t a child like when they first arrived in kirkwall. she can handle herself, should anyone give her trouble and aveline isn’t around to protect her. 

it wasn’t an option she liked, but she trusted aveline with her life -- no matter how much they squabbled before over morals and reyna’s own questionable actions towards the templars as of recently. bethany would be safer here under the protection of the guard captain than with her on the road.

“you’ve been here for two days, and you said you’d leave earlier this week.” bethany’s voice is quiet when she speaks up again, the jangle of keys in her hand when she gives them to her, “what are you waiting for?”

reyna bitterly chuckles, “are you trying to get rid of me too, dear sister?” she asks, remembering how aveline had advised the same thing to her. kirkwall was still reeling after she’d hidden out with the vallens for a bit to let it blow over long enough to trek home without suspicion. the others...they’d be safe. they couldn’t go after fenris, they wouldn’t know of his involvement and merrill and isabela would be out of town within the month on isabela’s ship. and varric?

varric always had a way out. she didn’t know how this time, everyone knew he was involved with her, but he assured her he’d find a way.

she still sat up, waiting for the cellar door to open those two nights she spent in her own home since then. and yet...it doesn’t. it remains closed, and locked.

did he wear it that night?

“no! no of course not, reyna if i could go with you--” bethany cuts herself off, a frown on her face when reyna rises from her knees, pushing the half empty case back under the bed, “you know that i would. i just...don’t want you caught. everything is so...crazy right now. why are you staying so long?”

“it doesn’t matter. i’m leaving tonight, less templars out and the guards will be able to get me out of the city before knight-captain rutherford even knows i was back in hightown.” reyna shrugs, retying the scarf around her neck. the sun was due to go down in just a bit, the sky still playing with colors of a deep pink and the black encroaching upon it. the guards would switch into their night shift soon.

“that’s...not it.” bethany follows after her as reyna throws the pack on over her shoulder, “you know that’s not what it is.”

“why are you so desperate to know?” reyna quips back, biting her lip to keep from yelling. she knows why, she knows exactly why she’s still here and not heading for the hanged man to sail with isabela. and yet..it’s still stupid to admit out loud. it’s beyond foolish, and the same thing that got her mother in trouble before she was born, “surely you don’t intend to gossip with isabela.”

“reyna...” bethany gives her a look that’s reminiscent of leandra’s, and she cringes back from it. she knows bethany is only concerned from her safety, concerned about her, but she’s more concerned about her’s. and that hurts. reyna was the reason they even had to be careful, the reason bethany had to change her name and cut her hair. and yet, here she was, still caring about her foolish older sister after it all.

it infuriated and wounded her at the exact same time. bethany’s hand brushes her shoulder as she pauses at the door frame, and reyna tenses at the touch against her bicep. why why why had she done all of this? she could’ve just let meredith go on her tirade, turned a blind eye. they had such a nice cushy house here in hightown, and now the amell estate would surely be passed over to some other templar allied noble once everything was in order. they would’ve won and lost their mother’s childhood home within a decade. 

but no. she’d let her own interests blind her to the real goal. she couldn’t stay incognito long enough to let herself even enjoy it.

“reyna, please. just tell me, that way i can help. that way i can find whatever it is you’re looking for.” another beat of silence, “i know you don’t like talking about what bothers you, or makes you angry for my sake and everyone elses’ sake but sometimes people genuinely want to help you. i want to help you.”

“like how meredith helped the mages?” she asks coldly, and bethany’s eyes are startled and hurt but the words keep pouring out of her mouth, “like how orsinio  helped the mages? like how i -- how i helped anders? you can’t help me, bethany.”

her sister freezes, a grimace on her young face as reyna tries not to look over her shoulder before turning on her, “like how i put everything aside to stand behind him when he needed me? and i cost kirkwall their circle, their knight enchanter and their knight-commander? like how i helped kirkwall?”

“you did help!” bethany argues, reaching out to take her hand. reyna snaps it back, “you helped so many people while you were here!”

“at what cost! at what cost did i help everyone back in ‘34, and then lose mother to a blood mage? at what cost did i help by keeping you out of the deep roads, and then losing you to the gallows? at what cost did i help anders, and then lose the chantry because i was so goddamn blind?!”

“you weren’t blind! you wanted to help us, and you did. you can’t apologize for that reyna-”

“i’m not apologizing! i’ll never sodding apologize for what i believe in, but riddle me this bethany -- do you think the chantry would be a smoking crater if i had said no? if i’d denied the idea that i could split anders and justice? do you think we’d have to leave if i didn’t want to help the mages so goddamn bad that i costed us our place in kirkwall?”

“that’s not your fault. you stood up for what you believed in, you stood up for me!” bethany cries, “that’s not your fault. none of it is. it’s-it’s...”

“it’s anders’. that’s what everyone says, right?” reyna runs a hand through her hair, feeling her hands begin to shake the way they do when she doesn’t feel okay, when she doesn’t feel right. her mother had always been able to calm her down but now she can barely speak.

“no. no it isn’t.” bethany avoids her gaze, “you said you believed in him. believed in what he said. believed in what was right.”

reyna throws out her hands around them, “is this what is right, bethany? templars hunting me down, everyone forced to leave because of me and him? was it right that i let what made me happy blind me to what was the truth?”

“i-”

“no! it wasn’t! i can’t defend my actions, i can’t defend his. i can’t defend how i hunted templars down and then pretended to figuratively wash my hands of the blood that was spilled when the chantry came down!” she’s breathing hard, her chest tight, “i can’t defend anyone’s actions -- there was no compromise, but was any of it worth it just so i could have one more day with him!?”

she doesn’t know where her words have gone. but they’re not there anymore. none to pull on. nothing else to say lest she reveal why she’s still here, nothing left to say that she hasn’t already said twenty times over, nor anything she can say that won’t sound like she’s complaining about the mess she got herself into. 

bethany’s eyes glimmer with sad understanding, once she is no longer taken aback by her outburst, “you’re waiting for him. you still think he’ll come back.”

reyna is silent. she knows if she denies it, bethany will pick her apart until she falls apart.

her sister shouldn’t have to listen to her like this. shouldn’t have to pay for her mistakes.

“you believed in him at some point, you cared about him and you were happy, i know you were. and you didn’t want to stay in kirkwall even before all of this. i think the words you used were even ‘these four walls can’t hold me anymore’ the last time you visited.” bethany’s demeanor is soft compared to her own, gently pulling her gloves on, “you...i’ll stay here with you if i have to. reyna if you still love-”

“no! i don’t!” a fire burns inside her as her hands tighten into fists at her side, anger climbing up her throat to choke the words out of her, “i don’t! do you really think that-”

“would you still be here if you didn’t?”

that gives reyna pause long enough to keep from punching the wall next to her. there are holes in her room from earlier, days before bethany had managed to make it out of the shithole of the gallows through varric’s assistance. scars are still just barely healing on her knuckles, and they’re splitting open again from just how hard she’s folded her hands into balls at her side.

“no. you wouldn’t, because you care. you would’ve skipped town already if you didn’t.”

“he used me, bethany. he knew what he was doing and he still did it! would someone who loved someone else really do something like that, without their conscience betraying them?” reyna walks further away from her sister, making to descend down the stairs, “would he still give me all that goddamn praise for what i was doing for the mages in the circle if he really loved me?”

“reyna, you’re not even thinking anymore. of course he loved you-”

“how would you know!” at the bottom of the stairs, reyna whirls on her sister, a fearful look in her matching pair of dark eyes before she even registers it, “how would you know bethany? nobody knew, absolutely no one knew not even me! i’m supposed to be the bloody champion of kirkwall and instead i kept an apostate in my home for upwards of three years, and assisted with destroying the chantry at the same time! all because i thought he cared about me, and i just ignored all the warning signs! i should’ve known, i should’ve said something -- said anything and yet i didn’t because i couldn’t! i was weak and i’m paying the price for it now!”

her eyes sting with unshed tears, frustration taking precedent and building up in her tightening throat, “if he really cared about me, he would’ve told me! that’s what we did, that’s what we always did! i was willing to risk my neck for karl, i was willing to help get a group of apostates out for him, ‘oh hawke is always ready to help’, sodding irresponsibly stupid old me, right?”

“you’re not stupid, you’re not stupid reyna.” bethany bypasses the near shove she gives her sister and instead wraps her arms around her waist, holding tight, “you loved him. you did. i know what losing carver and losing mother did to you. and i know i couldn’t be here for you. i wish i could’ve been. to help you through all of it but i couldn’t. i trusted anders to stay with you, i trusted him to keep you grounded. you weren’t weak. you were stronger than any of us.”

reyna is shaking, her hands stuck at her sides as bethany buries her head in her shoulder. she’s hurt, she’s very hurt by all of this, feeling like she’s been stabbed twenty times over with her own blades when anders had admitted to the crime with a resigned tone of voice, sitting hunched over away from her. expecting death, surprised she did not grant it even at the cost of fenris’ trust. she was aware nothing would change if they didn’t do anything drastic, she’s not wounded by that. she’s destroyed on the inside because he didn’t tell her. 

she trusted him with every part of her. told him things that no one would ever hear come from her lips. things she hadn’t even told herself before. they had each other’s backs for years, and that was where the line of trust snapped.

where did she go wrong? 

was this her fault? because she’d come off as too much? would he have told her if she pressed him for why his demeanor had changed instead of dealing with everyone else’s problems?

she thought she’d meant everything to him. neither of them had anyone left but each other. he’d been there when her mother died, had consoled her to the best of his ability when bethany had been taken. 

and yet?

and yet that still wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough to trust her. it wasn’t enough to let her say ‘i trust you, and i’m with you’.

love is a strong word for someone who immediately lost all claim on it regarding her. 

but?

she would lie if she said there was nothing left for him to possibly reclaim someday. a long time from now, maybe a lifetime.

but not never.

“he did one shitty job of it.” she chuckles darkly, resigning to put her arms around her sister. knowing that this will be one of the few times she even gets the chance in the next few days, weeks, months and maybe even years, carefully as she chokes out her name, “bethany.”

“yes, sister?” 

“i don’t...i don’t think he’s coming home.” that breaks a part of her inside, blinking a few times up at the dark ceiling to keep herself from falling apart completely -- why was her sister even still here? she had bigger things to worry about than her washed up older sister, the ex-champion of kirkwall, “as much as i might wish it, i don’t think he will be.” 

“he told you he loved him in the gallows, right before orsinio went mad, you know. he was terrified, he was focused exclusively on keeping you alive when we fought meredith. i don’t think i ever caught him with his eyes off of you.” bethany says, gently untangling herself, “maybe it’s not worth atonement in your eyes. i’m not sure. but...” her eyes dart to where the hall ends and the cellar begins a turn later, “maybe he will come back to you.”

does he deserve her forgiveness for that? at all? just because he still loved her before then? because he’d looked her in the eyes, the corners of them crinkling with a look of adoration, of sadness, and had promised her a world where it wouldn’t matter if they were together? how undeniably warm his hands had felt in her’s when their fingers curled together shortly before the ensuing fight against the templars?

she doesn’t know.

she’s so angry that she genuinely wants to hit something. wants to yell at someone, anything. sit someone down and explain why there is a wildfire burning her soul from the inside out, why she so desperately just wants this all to end. wake up from the nightmare that has plagued her for days. will most likely haunt her for the rest of her life.

but she’s also hurt. so makerdamned hurt. where did the trust even go, did it run off or was it never there to begin with? was it worth destroying herself again, on the run with surely thedas’ most wanted mage only because she thought he cared for her?

is that what she wants? or was that decision already made for her?

was it foolish? was it foolish to wait and wait and wait even though she knows the chances of him coming back are slim?

she’d understood -- had said that she knew they’d never be like any normal couple. that she’d have to run, because apostates would never be free. and yet, she’d taken the plunge. had accepted her fate.

all reyna can say is, “i don’t know.”

bethany nods, playing with the deep black curls their mother had given her, before stepping past her, “it’s dark out now. i can’t stay here any longer, sister. donnic will get worried and come out looking for me.”

“i-i know.” reyna responds, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking out the limp curls in her hair from the braid she’d worn earlier, bethany padding closer to the door and pulling her heavy cloak off of the hook, “bethany--be careful.”

“i will. i promise.” bethany says, “as long as you do as well. they will not be friendly to you on the road. anders may not have a phylactery but-”

“they know what he looks like. i know that. that’s to say he even comes by later, though,” reyna takes a breath, trying not to antagonize her sister, “but i will.”

bethany waves, a sad smile on her face before the large door closes, the sound reverberating through the foyer. her calming presence is gone, and reyna feels the cold beginning to seep in her. now that bethany has left, she doesn’t have to pretend she’s okay to keep her sister from worrying more than she already has done. she sadly chuckles, bethany had gotten that from their mother -- a worried hen for all her chicks.

that was supposed to be reyna, watching over her sister. keeping her safe from the templars, keeping her alive. bethany wasn’t supposed to have to come to the estate just to check on her. but she’d been so busy trying to change something that had weathered the pattern of time that she’d neglected everything else. her friends, her family.

herself.

the fire warms her bones to the best of it’s meager ability, her hands regaining feeling. it was a cold night out, she’d have to wear one of her thicker cloaks when she finally left.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. and yet here she was, spending the last night in her family home. she says an apology to her mother under her breath, an apology to gamlen even, an apology to her grandparents, an apology to bethany, to carver, to her father. 

she’d failed every single one of them.

reyna doesn’t break down. she knows if she does, she won’t ever leave. she’ll just stay here and be sad and cry about the things she can’t control. and she doesn’t have time for that.

she’s supposed to be the strong one. she can’t be that if she’s bawling like a baby.

inevitably, she spends another two hours in the estate, bordering three and eyes barely open while she stokes the fire every few go arounds. she’s ready to leave, bag over her shoulders and conscience weighing down on her like a brick. but she wanders the house instead, listlessly and without a true purpose.

admiring everything they’d earned after so many years. brushing a hand against her mother’s portrait when she stops in the main hall just outside the room that has been locked since her death. the same brown eyes they all shared staring back at her, a small smile that reyna wants to see again. there’s a smaller one of carver she’d had commissioned years ago with her first allowance from the expedition, and it sits next to her’s. she was supposed to have bethany, father and herself done at some point. a family of portraits once they’d properly settled into the estate.

and then she’d gotten busy, and never finished the task.

she hates to say that she used to wonder if she’d get anders done as well, if they ever solidified what they used to have. she pulls her eyes away from the younger leandra, descending the steps again and making sure all the doors are locked. donnic and aveline are the only two with keys to the estate besides anders and bethany. she would not let the templars have her home if she still had any say about it.

she’s near the front door, cloak donned dutifully around her shoulders and gloves donned, daggers hidden in sheathes on her thighs when she hears the distant sound of a door open and close. her whole body freezes, fearful that it’s an intruder. a templar maybe, they’d found the secret entrance to the cellar under the house. it wouldn’t be the first time, and she should’ve known it wouldn’t be the last. of course it would be the day that she intends to leave.

seizing, she pulls her daggers out, gripping the handles with shaky hands before pushing herself up against the wall leading down the hall. she’d left the door open, what a foolish mistake.

boots. the sound of boots against the carpet. quiet, soft. they aren’t trying to announce their presence, but she doesn’t want to take the risk to look over her shoulder into the inky darkness. she recognizes everyone’s footfalls. she had to, that was part of her training while she lived in lothering and it had saved her life more than a few times since she’d moved to kirkwall.

and terrifyingly-

-she recognizes these. the ones that accompany a long night in the clinic, ones that accompany a proper hunt in the city for mages to help escape.

a quiet voice.

a tired voice.

a resigned voice, calling out for her in a way that shatters her before he steps into the light of the fire, “hawke?”

after a moment, she falls apart. tears bubbling up in her eyes as she turns the corner from where she’d pressed herself up against the wall in preparation.

a staff that isn’t quite regulation, and the black robes she was sure were still stained with blood from a week prior.

the amber eyes she couldn’t say no to, hands that had been tangled with her’s only weeks ago.

“anders.”

he doesn’t look well. not at all. exhausted, eye bags looking darker than they had since he’d moved in with her. hair tied back hurriedly, his own robes barely tied properly.

but, there’s a cloak around his shoulders, straps from a pack as well. dark black to surely hide himself from the templars that are swarming darktown like flies on fruit. she doesn’t ignore that it’s the same one she’d given him two years ago in the dead of winter, worn, but she still recognizes the hawke crest over his heart. clear as day, and worn proudly.

or it had been, when it had been given when he’d first moved in and leandra had suggested the gift, as they and bethany both owned one. her mother had even bothered her to get his name stitched in beneath the crest, though she didn’t. 

she’s glad, she’s not sure if she could take that. not now.

“you’re here,” she responds, biting her tongue not to launch into something she’ll regret, “then you still have the key.”

“you gave me it. i would not simply lose something so important,” that grits against her nerves in a way she can’t explain, though he hesitates to step forward towards her, “you are free to have it back, as i suppose you’re leaving the city according to varric.”

“is this not also your home?” she asks bitterly, forgoing the fact she’d said not to tell anders when she was leaving, “or did you forget somehow in the last few months?”

reyna feels childish when she notes he doesn’t even seem angered by the accusation, just...sad. not the sort of sad where he’s begging for forgiveness at her feet and trying to guilt trip him, but the kind of sad one can only have when they’ve reached rock bottom.

“what do you want me to say, re-hawke?” and yet again, there is no anger behind the words. no deep seated frustration. reyna doesn’t know how to respond to someone who isn’t yelling at her for some reason or the other. she can deal with anger, she can yell at anger rightfully. apologetic...she doesn’t know what to do with apologetic, “if you wish for me to go, then i will. i won’t force myself where i am not wanted.”

she can’t bite them back fast enough, “you betrayed my trust, anders. you took away my right to choose when you lied to me for why you needed all of those ingredients.”

“i know.” is all he offers.

“i know?” she parrots back to him, “if you knew, if you bloody well knew then why even bother? why even accept that sodding key, why stay here? you can’t hide behind the excuse that you knew you would hurt me in the end. there must have been a part of you that knew this wouldn’t end well for you, for us.

“was there ever an us, anders?”

“yes!” something in him snaps before he pulls himself back together, “there always was, reyna. there always was, and that was never in question.”

the question is on the tip of her tongue, but she knows she will never get a proper answer. not one she doesn’t already know, “you thought i wouldn’t support you in this, so you didn’t even take the chance.”

“admit it, you wouldn’t have. no one we know would’ve. and i do not blame you.” anders nearly chastises her, “i could not take that chance to drag you into this. it would be my burden to bear.”

“i am not a child, anders.”

“i know.”

“then you would’ve known that i would at least hear you out. that i would’ve listened. that you didn’t have to play this game of secrecy with me,” she will not beg for an answer if that isn’t what he intends to give her. she is not pathetic.

“you would’ve stopped me. this was something i had to do.”

“would i have? i supported you everywhere else. nearly got myself killed for you. was that not enough to solidify that i was yours, that i would always be with you no matter what?”

when she can not find anymore words, pointedly looking at him instead, he slips the twine that the key hung on from around his neck. worn, but obviously well taken care of. it’s not even scratched upon further inspection. he holds it out her, in a similar fashion that she had given it to him earlier this year. twinkling in the dying light of the fire, spinning gently in a circle, “tell me to go, reyna.”

she hates the way he says it. as if he has already accepted that she will kick him out properly this time. how her name doesn’t sound like sugar on one’s tongue, it instead sounds like the salty tears that had poured down her cheeks for days after the chantry incident. thinly veiled frustration, barely veiled sadness.

she could tell him to go now. there’s nothing keeping her from doing so. it would be significantly easier if she did, in fact. travelling lighter, and she didn’t have to watch for templars nearly as often because an apostate wouldn’t be with her. she could support herself. she was not helpless.

it’d be that easy. just a few words, and she’d be free to leave this cursed city.

then go, anders. i don’t want you here anymore. you’ve destroyed what we had in favor of forwarding your own political agenda. you used me! you used my trust to do all of this, and now you have the audacity to come back and give me my own key back like you actually care what i think of you? you used my love for you. you twisted and tore us apart to something unfathomable. you have no right to be here. this is not your home any longer.

a fire roaring. intoxicated with adrenaline, wandering hands. happy looks, the roll of one’s eyes at another’s antics. the feeling of being a pair, the emotions she could never replicate with another.

he used me!

the warmest look in amber eyes as their lips fit together, tasting of lyrium and metallic blood.

her hand is shaking just out of the corner of her eye, she can grasp it now. it’s warm as she takes it from his hand. carefully. slowly. the twine has nearly frayed in so many places, yet knotted together again and again with dexterous hands she could only credit to him.

she knows what she has to do. the fire inside blazes and she opens her mouth to speak, setting her face. this isn’t something she should just back down from.

yet...

the words don’t come. 

they fail her. 

instead of anything else, even managing a curse or two, she moves her other hand to take his, pressing the key firmly back into his palm, curling his fingers back over it. inhaling, she wonders if she’s making the right decision. is this worth it? should she even begin to take the chance? the chance she could never have another life, never rebuild what she once had?

is it worth it to try and rebuild the shattered pieces in front of her, the scars reopening and bleeding from when it had first broken?

she remembers a vase she and her siblings had broken as children -- her mother’s in fact. blue, glittering in the dying sunlight of the evening when it had broken.

chipped. but not beyond recognition. the bigger pieces were still intact. it was glued back together with the help of their father before their mother was any the wiser.

it will hurt to put the glass back together if she chooses to pick them back up.

exhaling, she finally looks up at him. thinly veiled shock, surprise greets her instead in his expression, “don’t.” is all she can say, lest she actually let her emotions get the better of her.

reyna knows the wish that she could be alone on the road was real, was tangible. but she can’t. not after losing her father, losing carver, losing bethany, losing her mother, slowly losing the people around her to her own mind. not now. not when she knows that she still cares about him. not when there is one person left in the world like hum.

“reyna, i don’t deserve this. you know that much better than i do.” he tries to give it back to her, but she only clutches his hand tighter.

“keep it.” she nearly orders before softening her tone, “please.”

he considers his words, “if..you wish.”

reyna is quiet again. then she is really doing this, a wave of sadness passing over her. she is leaving, with the one person that caused the need to. but the person that she still has fractured trust from, the person that was her first, and if she let’s this progress, her last.

“i will not try to explain it again. you know my reasoning, reyna. and i am truly sorry for the pain i have caused you,” he admits quietly, “i can say a million things, but you would still find faults. and i can never truly apologize for what happened.”

“you can’t,” she agrees, wrapping her cloak around her lithe figure tighter, “you’re right on that front.”

he’s not phased by her response, “i am not asking to be taken back. i know i have foolishly thrown away what we had.”

“again, you are correct,” she rubs the fabric in between her gloved fingers. she hesitates again, knowing what she says now will make or break whatever this is, “but. why are you here then? if you know?”

“i...was not going to ask to travel with you, but to say goodbye. i was unsure if you wanted to see me, or if you were even still here to be entirely honest, but i wished to try,” he pauses, “i will always care for you, reyna. even if it is no longer reciprocated.”

and that is it. it sounds terribly final, as if he is ready to leave right that very moment. he has not made another advance towards her, but his eyes crinkle into a sad smile. one that is all too reminiscent of the same received that fateful day she’d first met him.

a rush of anxiety takes her heart hostage before she speaks again, turning over her shoulder to walk towards the door. she can’t face him when she’s on the brink of a breakdown, “you always did assume so much, anders.” reyna muses.

she doesn’t watch his reaction, but she can hear him walking ever closer, the sound of his staff dragging along the ground doing nothing to hide his presence from her, “will i see you again?” he asks hurriedly.

another blink. another halt of her thought process.

she can’t do this. she was supposed to be strong. but she isn’t. he’s too much to her, he’s been too much to her. how much he gave her, material and emotionally. she’s not ready to rip that away.

it wouldn’t be the same.

everything is still much too raw. too painful to touch. but no one said she had to touch an open would right then, in that very moment. another time, when it was easier to treat. allowed time to heal.

“it would be a crime if you did not,” she puts a hand on the knob, cold through her gloves. it’s nearly entirely dark, now that the fire is gone and the moonlight is shining through the window to illuminate the room, glinting off the steel of hids staff, “tell me, anders.”

“anything.” he answers, careful, calculating. gauging her reaction.

“can--” she turns over her shoulder, tears building in her eyes as she awaits his response, “can you still give me a world like the one you described in the gallows?”

he’s rendered speechless for once. then, recognition flashes through his eyes, as if he is remembering exactly what she is talking about. then, a nod, “i can surely try, if you allow me the pleasure.”

reyna pulls her hood up over head. considering, overthinking at this point, before taking his hand with her free one. this would not be perfect, far from it. she still has anger boiling just underneath the surface. they will both be hunted, unless they should leave the free marches. she is signing away any chance at a normal life.

she squeezes his fingers in her’s tentatively, “then let us find it, yes?”

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Sugar and Fluff (Volume 3)

This is not the usual edition of this series, as this focuses more on the tension between Johnny and Essie before becoming a couple. 

The stories are still sweet and fluffy, but at the same time, it isn’t. Anyway, here’s Johnny rocking the keyboard as a hint on what to expect for today’s post. 

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: I think I’ve already said what you need to know, but I’d like to move what I usually mention at the Warning header that italics are for thoughts and italic and bold are for lyrics.  Both videos of the song mentioned will be embedded below for your listening pleasure. You can also click the link of the song in the second part if you’re not into the video, but why would you miss one of the cutest MVs of all time? Just kidding, guys. 

POV: 2nd person for both 

Word count: 1,800+ words 

–––

I. Because Johnny playing the piano will always be iconic

There were times you missed playing the piano.

You and Nini used to go home late from school because you took piano lessons. However, you weren’t able to move past the first grade as you eventually found it difficult to play. Reading notes past beyond the staff and figuring out how to play half notes made you lose your interest since it took you time to figure it out on the keys. Nini was able to finish the program and could still play a complicated piece if asked to.

Now that you were living with Johnny and Mark (who was unfortunately abroad again), you were delighted to see that he had a piano at his place. Not only does he have the classical instrument, but he also has an organ in the corner of his bedroom.

One time, you asked him to play after a long day at work. “Play some for me, Johnny,” you asked, tapping the side of the instrument.

He was lounging on the sofa, watching a video on his phone. “Come again, baby?” He said, briefly looking up at you. “Can you play the piano for me?” You sat down beside him and even leaned toward his face to show how much you wanted it.

“Hey, what’s up?” He sat up straight and examined your face. You don’t usually ask him to play the piano unless you were not feeling well or you needed added stimuli for sleep.

“I don’t feel so well,” you whispered, looking away from him. “Why? What happened?” You heard him come closer to you, the fabric of his pants and the sofa cover rustling together.

“I’m not comfortable telling yet,” you responded as he held your hands. “Okay baby, I’ll wait for that,” he squeezed your hands first, “but now I’ve got to fulfill your request.”

He went to the piano and you watched him prepare, wiggling his fingers first before he placed them over ebony and ivory keys.

When you heard the iconic introduction of Alicia Keys’s ‘If I Ain’t Got You’, you stifled a sob.

It brought back memories of your childhood playing the piano – after all, she was the person who inspired you to play.

Some people want it all

But I don't want nothing at all

If it ain't got you baby

If I ain't got you baby

He sang, which made you more emotional. It has been a while since you heard him sing again. You went to his side and sang along with him.

Some people want diamond rings

Some just want everything

But everything means nothing

If I ain't got you, yeah

You looked at each other as you finished the chorus, then gave each other the most genuine smiles you could muster.

It was a beautiful moment that both of you would treasure – you even mentioned it during your wedding speech!

Even though you know you don't have a great singing voice, you did your best to give justice to the song. You believed that you harmonized well with Johnny, who was giving more than his best self to execute the song.

If I ain’t got you with me, baby

So nothing in this whole world don’t mean a thing

If I ain’t got you with me, baby

As the song ended, Johnny looked at you expectantly. “That…was good, right?” He asked carefully and a little out of breath since he used more of his singing voice today.

You nodded, flashing him a grin. “Yeah, that was great. Can’t believe we harmonized so well,” you said, taking a seat beside him on the stool.

He laughed at your comment and looped an arm around your waist. “I hope that made you feel better,” he whispered, his mouth too close to your ears and neck.

Shivers went down your spine with his words, but you didn’t let him make you weak. You leaned forward and whispered back, “Yes, it did. Thank you, Johnny.”

His other arm snaked around you, and now you were enveloped in his embrace. You settled your head on his shoulder, and he did the same.

“You know I’m always here for you, right?” He murmured against your ear, making you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes, I know. And I’m so grateful for that.” You had to pull away a bit to look at his face, and he made a kissing face.

You know you wanted to kiss him back, but you know that you shouldn’t. You nuzzled his neck in response, which made him giggle. “Not there!” He whined as he squeezed your sides. You yelped when he pinched too hard and attempted to bite his shoulder.

You were in a playful mood after getting your emotional side out of your system, which Johnny shared as well.

You moved your tickling game at the couch wherein you laughed, cried, kicked, and bit each other. Once both of you were tired, you stared into each other’s eyes while you embraced.

“I missed moments like this,” Johnny started, one of his hands now stroking your hair.

“Same here,” you replied, one of your hands cupping his face.

You two were so close that people thought you were dating. You had to correct people that you aren’t – you told them that you were so comfortable with him that you can be really intimate with him at times. You didn’t know if he said the same thing to other people though.

There were instances that your closeness made you feel things – you just wanted to kiss him, cradle him in your arms, or even do it with him. You had to fight it because you were not sure if he felt the same.

You wanted to say something, but the words left your mouth. You looked at him lovingly, wishing that something will come out of your intimacy. He sensed your longing and pecked you on the lips.

It was very brief that you weren’t able to process it. You blinked when he pulled away, making him giggle at your reaction. “Aw, you’re so cute Essie,” he said, pinching your nose. You glared at him in return, and he soothed the part he pinched.

“I love you,” he said, his face glowing with warmth.

The words came out of your mouth without any hesitation: “I love you too.”

Those three words may seem romantic, but they can still mean differently – either they mean he loves you more than you think or he loves you just as his best friend.

You wondered what he meant by that.

\\\

II. Inspired by my favorite Regina Spektor song

When Essie realized she was in love with Johnny Suh, she knew she was screwed.

She had a lot of guy friends who were close to her, but they did not reach the level she had with the Chicago native.

They were quite intimate – they had skinship similar to that of a couple. People often thought that they were dating, which they either pretended to be (at times to fend off creeps) or dismissed.

Sometimes, she had to hold herself back from touching him. She knew other people would make comments behind their back about the way she massaged his hand when she was bored, or when her hand absentmindedly ran across his chest down to his waist when she was comforting him.

But that was how they were. In return, Johnny liked to hug her and bury his face in the crook of her neck, as if he was kissing it. There were instances that he did – just a simple peck. That wasn’t romantic, right?

However, these gestures were getting to her. The topics they were discussing lately were about relationships and what they would like to see in their ideal partner.

Essie noticed that he was taking notes. When she talked about how she would love it if her dream guy would get her tickets to any one of her favorite performers at a show abroad and watch it with her, he made it happen a week later.

He dragged her to the airport at 3 a.m. on a Thursday so they could fly to Peru and watch Franz Ferdinand later in the evening. They spent two days and three nights, resulting in a memo from her office when she got back. It was a surprise that made her feel loved and terrified at the same time.

Whenever people did something for her, she appreciated it. Truly, madly, and deeply, like the song goes. But she was terrified at how her heart beat loudly against her chest when he held her hand, gripped it tightly, and looked at her straight in the eyes as he led her closer to the stage of the concert they were watching.

“Aren’t I a step ahead of your ideal partner?” He said while the strumming of an electric guitar echoed in the open night.

She cocked her head at him, gesturing him to repeat what he said. He laughed in response and patted her shoulder. “Never mind,” he mouthed as he continued to hold her hand.

In fact, she heard him loud and clear. But she didn’t expect his words. She was rendered speechless by it.  

As she currently watched Johnny furiously typing away on his phone at the other end of the sofa, she reevaluated her feelings for the nth time.

They were living together for the past three months, along with their friend Mark. Her apartment, which she shared with Nini, was under repair. It was her part of the house that needed repairs, making Nini stay behind and watch over the process.

Essie was lucky that Johnny immediately offered his apartment, which had another spare room. When she moved in, she was shocked that he made it a replica of her room. She found it creepy at first but then grew to love it each day. It was sweet, very sweet, of Johnny Suh to do this.

He has always been sweet, if not smooth, for the duration of their friendship.

His actions must tell her something by now, right? But no, she could also be the densest person in the world.

“Hey, baby. Are you okay?” Johnny broke her reverie, glancing at her worried face before going back to his phone.

“Yeah…I am,” she responded slowly, her eyes looking for something to distract herself with (other than him, duh). “I’m just…at a loss.”

“What do you mean?” This got his attention as he shoved his phone in his pocket, moving closer to her at the other end of the couch.

“I…I don’t know what to do,” Essie whispered, looking at her palms this time.  

“Hey, what’s up, really?” She could feel the warmth of his body near her, and she closed her eyes when he wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her toward his chest.

“Johnny…” she mumbled, burying her neck on her shoulder. Her left arm hooked around his waist while her right gripped the fabric of her dress tightly.

“Baby…” Those words were enough to make her weep.

Why must you make me feel this way?

–––

FIN

[afjakwritesarchive]

NWC #4

Note: I’ve decided to keep all the non-aph NWC’s off this blog. Day 3 was an original poem, so it will be kept off of this blog. That being said, here is today’s entry!

Pairing: USUK Words: 1,804 Rating: T AU: Human Genre: Romance Summary: Arthur Kirkland uses his wealth to buy presents for his loved ones in order to express his affection. He is thrown when Alfred begins to give him gifts in return.  A/N: Not amazing, but an improvement from Day 1! Mostly prose. Very fluffy. Enjoy! 

If asked, Arthur Kirkland would surely admit that expressing any positive emotion was somewhat challenging for him. Most of those well acquainted with him theorized that it was due to a lack of compassion from his parents that had caused him to repress positive emotion. As one of his only close friends, Francis, had put it: he had not yet "succumbed to the power of love."

That was, until he'd met Alfred. Arthur had been terrified at first; hell, he still was. He'd been instantly enraptured by the vibrant, overly-energetic American who had recently taken up residence in Arthur's apartment building. While the Brit lived on the top floor in the penthouse and Alfred lived much further down in the cheaper flats, they often met in the lobby on their way in from work, and Alfred had been eager to spark up conversation with the Brit.

He'd explained to Arthur in that bloody fantastic American accent—the very same accent Arthur usually rolled his eyes at due to his belief that Americans were rather uncultured—that he was new to England and hoping to make new friends. While initially hesitant, Arthur had been won over rather quickly by the American's enthusiasm and persuasiveness, and had been coaxed into coffee the following day. From there, the pair became fast friends; mostly due to Alfred's constant pestering.

It had been more than a year since their first meeting, and, before Arthur could prevent it, he'd grown attached to Alfred. He dreaded the very thought of emotional attachment—there were very few people in his life for whom he genuinely cared for, and he knew love to be a minefield of anxieties, mistakes, and disasters. It was a challenge like no other for Arthur to express it, and rarely did he do it right.

One thing that always seemed to work, though, were presents.

Arthur was a man of wealth. He'd inherited a small tea production business from his late parents and had turned it into an empire before his thirtieth birthday. Therefore, it was no trouble at all to buy gifts for the select individuals he was fond of. They could each expect a gift from Arthur at least once a month, and while they often insisted that the Brit not do such things for them, the Brit brushed it off. After all, it was his way of showing love—how would they know if he didn't remind them? He certainly couldn't say it out loud, no. They'd all become accustomed to the presents within time, and had caught on to the reason behind them as well. To outsiders, Arthur was excessively complicated; to those who knew him well, he was incredibly transparent.

Francis in particular was a master at reading Arthur. The pair had been friends since they were barely five years old, and as such he'd had plenty of time to learn and dissect Arthur's mannerisms until he was an exceptional interpreter of Arthur's behaviors. He could tell from a look what Arthur was feeling and thinking, and knew the Brit better than anyone else.

And, of course, he knew before Arthur did when the man began to fall in love with Alfred.

It first became apparent whilst he and Arthur were browsing the mall and Arthur had abruptly stalled outside a comic store. He'd peered into the window, green eyes gazing at a comic in the display window.

"You know, Alfred mentioned wanting this yesterday." He'd said, pointing at a book on display before promptly stepping into the shop. Francis had raised a brow, perplexed, and stepped in just in time to watch Arthur approach the counter and purchase the comic.

"Alfred?" Francis asked, raising a brow. "The American that lives in your building? The one who insists on a coffee date twice a week?"

Arthur went red in the face at the word 'date', waving his hand about as if to swat his friend away. "Yes, yes, him. He's rather good company, despite his obnoxiousness. We're... friends." Arthur had said, hesitating at the word 'friends'. Saying it out loud made it real, made his attachment known to someone outside of himself.

"My, my, Arthur, I'm surprised. You've only known him for two months, and you're already buying him presents? Has another person managed to crack your shell?" Francis teased, nudging his friend.

"Oh, belt up!" Arthur had said, shoving past the Frenchman and out of the store then.

Since then, the Brit's gift-giving had grown more and more frequent. Whatever Alfred wanted was often his before the week was out, no matter the cost. He'd received everything from candy bars to sold-out concert tickets from Arthur. Each time, the Brit delighted in the brightness in Alfred's gorgeous baby blues, the grin that came to his face as he gazed at his friend.

Francis had, of course, been wary of Alfred. Arthur was an easily manipulated man when he cared for someone, and he was aware that the American could be exploiting Arthur for his money. However, this theory had been blown out of the water when Alfred had begun to return the favor. To both his and Arthur's shock, Alfred had begun to bring the Brit gifts. While they were considerably less expensive than the ones Arthur often gave him due to his financial status, each one seemed to be based on something Arthur had told him, or that he'd observed as one of Arthur's interests.

"Oh! By the way, Arthur, I saw this and it reminded me of you!" Alfred often said as he presented Arthur with a gift, each time with a bright smile set upon his handsome face.

Arthur had rushed to Francis' apartment almost immediately after receiving the latest gift, baffled.

"Why the hell is he giving me such thoughtful gifts?!" He'd cried, waving the first edition Hemingway Alfred had found buried in the back of an ancient bookstore earlier in the week. "Is he trying to pay me back for what I've gotten him?!" He demanded.

Francis rolled his eyes. "He's thinking about you," he'd said simply, sipping on the scotch held daintily in his hand.

Arthur had went red at his friend's words and shook his head even as he pulled the book to his chest and wrapped both arms around it. "That's ridiculous," he huffed.

"Why? Aren't you friends?" Francis inquired.

"Well, yes, but—but he... I don't expect him to be as fond of me as..." Arthur trailed off, clearing his throat off instead.

"As you are of him." Francis finished, and took a sip from his glass. "Don't rule the possibility out, my friend. Alfred has been a constant source of surprise; perhaps he has actually managed to grow fond of your grumpy, overbearing personality somehow." He teased.

His friend's words had stuck with Arthur; the man couldn't help but to reflect back on Francis' words when he and Alfred were together. Was Alfred truly thinking of him? Could it be possible that the American had taken more interest in Arthur than the Brit had thought?

At first, Arthur was quick to dismiss the idea. It was simply impossible—Alfred was not wealthy, but his boyish charm and energy combined with his unfair attractiveness more than made up for his lack of status. He was ridiculously perfect, and far out of Arthur's league. Therefore, any thought of the American returning Arthur's rapidly growing attachment was immediately tossed aside, labelled an impossibility.

However, the dismissal of such ideas soon became impossible. The more time they spent together, the more affectionate Alfred became. Arthur would have to be positively blind not to suspect that the American was at least somewhat attached to him—however, any thought of attraction was still improbable. Surely Alfred had suitors lining up for miles! It would be impossible for him to like Arthur, let alone love him! Despite the pain these thoughts brought the Brit, he accepted their truth.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred asked one day.

"Yes?" Arthur asked, looking up from the book he'd been reading.

He and Alfred were so comfortable together they often sat in companionable silence. Today, they had taken up residence in the spacious living room of Arthur's penthouse, and the pair were currently settled upon Arthur's lavish sofa. The Brit was leaning against the arm of the couch, book in hand, and Alfred was splayed along the length of it, his feet in Arthur's lap as he fiddled with his phone.

Alfred propped himself up on his elbows and smiled at the man. "Do you want to get dinner tonight?"

Arthur nodded instantly. "Of course, where did you have in mind? My treat."

Alfred shook his head. "I already made a reservation somewhere. And it's my treat."

"A reservation?" Arthur raised his abnormally thick eyebrows at his friend.

"Yeah," Alfred said, sitting up.

He was smiling, but it wasn't his usual grin. It was gentle; soft and sweet, full of affection. He met Arthur's eyes, blue against green, and the love in them was unmistakable, even to Arthur. The Brit paused, taken aback by the look on the American's face.

"I thought we could go somewhere nice to celebrate." Alfred continued.

"Celebrate what?" Asked Arthur, confused.

"Celebrate us getting together. That is, um, if we do. Arthur, I like you. A lot. A-And I don't know if you like me back and this must be totally unexpected and I get it if you're super grossed out but I have to try because you're amazing and I can't wait any longer to ask if you'll go out with me." The American said quickly, flushed red.

Arthur merely stared, frozen in shock. His book slipped from his hand and dropped to the floor, and he started. Then, slowly, "...but I'm older than you."

Alfred raised a brow. "By four years. So?"

"I'm a know-it-all. And I'm stodgy, and rude, and sarcastic, and—"

"And I like you. Not in spite of that, but because of that. Because your personality—including all of the things you listed and more—is phenomenal. Not to mention your looks. I mean, you're hot as fuck, dude. Seriously."

Arthur's pale cheeks went red. "God, you are absolutely shameless!" He scolded, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Alfred grinned back at him. "So is it a yes to dinner tonight?"

"God, yes," Arthur said before taking Alfred by the shirt collar and wrenching him forward into a kiss.

[preservationandruin]

Words of Radiance Part Four Part Two

Alright, let’s keep this moving!

Kaladin Is Still In Prison, Adolin Was Also In Prison, Kaladin gets out of prison and makes a bad decision, I yell at Amaram a lot, Wit also yells at Amaram, Dalinar’s visions are leaked to the public, Shallan and Kaladin go on a Chasms Road Trip, Shallan remembers a fateful day, I yell at Amaram more, and Dalinar is ready for his big trip. 

WARNING: Shallan’s flashback includes physical and emotional abuse, as well as attempted and successful murder. 

Kaladin is still in prison. He’s noting that his thoughts are starting to distort the truth--again, That Mentally Ill Feel. He knows Dalinar will get him out, he believes Dalinar will get him out--but his mind twists it until he starts thinking Dalinar might have lied. He also starts beating himself up for being a bad guard, despite having gone toe-to-toe with the Assassin in White and lived, driving him off. 

He thinks bridge four is happy to be rid of him oh my god that is the most painful sentence I have ever read. 

Fortunately, he’s being let out. He promises that nobody will ever do this to him again, regardless of station. Aaaaaaand he runs into Adolin. Who is also in a cell. Because of course. And not only did Adolin lock himself up, he ordered that Bridge Four be there when Kaladin was released. 

Adolin Kholin is a good man. 

“Didn’t seem right, you in here,” Adolin said, eyes forward.  “I ruined your chance to duel Sadeas.”  “I’d be crippled or dead without you,” Adolin said. “So I wouldn’t have had the chance to fight Sadeas anyway.” The prince stopped in the hallway and looked at Kaladin. “Besides. You saved Renarin.”  “It’s my job,” Kaladin said. “Then we need to pay you more, bridgeboy. Because I don’t know if I’ve ever met another man who would jump, unarmored, into a fight among six Shardbearers.” 

And then they start bonding over Kaladin being incredulous about Adolin’s cologne and Adolin being mock-offended and even making fun of himself, and Adolin apologizing for ruining the plan, and Adolin pointing out that technically, Elhokar ruined it. 

Adolin also wholeheartedly believes Kaladin about Amaram--points out that you never hear about Amaram doing anything wrong, whereas even Dalinar--the best man Adolin knows--makes mistakes, loses his temper, and has a checkered history. Amaram doesn’t, which is pretty fucking suspicious. 

Yet again, Adolin’s intuition is scarily sharp. Right about Sadeas, right about Kaladin, right about Amaram. If he actually puts some more work into it, he could get really good at reading people. 

I love Adolin Kholin so much as a character like yeah, he can be a fuckup, but he is a genuinely good person. 

Also Bridge Four in unison salutes the moment that they see Kaladin and then just start cheering. Renarin is there in uniform, stimming but cheerfully talking with Adolin; Rock makes fun of Kaladin’s new beard. 

BRIDGE FOUR IS BACK TOGETHER. 

Also Adolin now apparently owns two shardblades and three sets of plate, the Kholin family owns a quarter of the Shards in all of Alethkar (actually more if Shallan marries into the family and I also know they’re not counting Jasnah, even though Ivory can become a Shardblade) and also Adolin is dueling champion now, as well he should be. 

And Adolin offers the plate to Kaladin...who gives them to Moash. Kaladin is purposely testing Adolin and actually flinches as Adolin grabs his shoulder--to ask if he’s sure. 

Because Adolin, unlike Amaram, is ACTUALLY A DECENT FUCKING HUMAN BEING. Kaladin also makes the cryptic comment that he’d be more useful against the Assassin in White without Shards. 

Moash’s new shard has a heliodor in the pommel, as a note. I wonder if that’s why his eyes go tan--is it just a lightening of the original color of the person’s eyes, or is it correspondant to the color of the stone powering the Blade? Kaladin’s eyes going blue near the end there imply it’s the power of the Blade making the eyes turn, so it probably corresponds to color? Although that doesn’t answer for why Lighteyes’ eyes don’t change. 

Rambling aside, Rock decides this shardplate shit is taking way too long and that they should be having a party. GREAT CAPTAIN KALADIN, STORMBLESSED AND DWELLER IN PRISONS, YOU WILL EAT MY STEW NOW. 

God I love Bridge Four. 

Also they were debating whether or not to break Kaladin out I fucking love them so much. my BOYS. Also they’re all willing to kick the shit out of Amaram. Same. Absolute Same. 

Aaaand Kaladin says that Moash’s friends are right about Elhokar. KAL NO. 

Over to Dalinar. Dalinar also basically says Kaladin reminds him of him when he was younger--although I have to note that Kaladin had a more level head. Also Navani is being an Engineer and Dalinar is trying to follow along. Mixed success. Also, Navani has figured out that the gemstones in Shards are not what originally powered them. 

Navani is still mourning Jasnah. “What happened to my little girl, so full of questions?” Ouch. 

Navani Deserves Better. 

Also we get another implication that Navani didn’t really care for Gavilar. Something was up with their marriage. 

Anyway, Dalinar’s trying to convince people to join his attempt to do a massive attack against the Parshendi. He’s noted that the Parshendi have stopped trying to go after gemhearts--which would be because their tactics have drastically shifted in a way that the Alethi cannot possibly be prepared for.

Also, Wit’s back. And Sadeas is purposely undermining Dalinar because he’s a shithead. I fucking hate Sadeas. 

“You always assume it’s me,” Sadeas said.  “That’s because any time I think it isn’t you, I’m wrong.” 

Yeah, Sadeas, Dalinar isn’t going to be that easy to fool this time. Easy to stymie, though, because for all Dalinar’s skills he is shit at political intrigue.

AND SPEAKING OF PEOPLE I FUCKING HATE, AMARAM IS HERE!

“Why, Brightlord Amaram!” Wit cried. “I was hoping I’d be able to see you tonight. I’ve spent my life learning to make others feel miserable, and so it’s a true joy to meet someone so innately talented in that very skill as you are.”  [...] “Do I know you?” Amaram asked.  “No,” Wit said lightly, “but fortunately, you can add it to the list of many, many things of which you are ignorant.”  “But now I’ve met you,” Amaram said, holding out a hand. “So the list is one smaller.”  “Please,” Wit said, refusing the hand. “I wouldn’t want it to rub off on me.”  “It?”  “Whatever you’ve been using to make your hands look clean, Brightlord Amaram. It must be powerful stuff indeed.”  Dalinar hurried over.

THIS EXCHANGE ADDS FIVE YEARS TO MY LIFESPAN, CLEARS MY SKIN, CURES MY ANXIETY, AND REPLENISHES MY BANK ACCOUNT WIT DRAGGING AMARAM IS EVERYTHING I LOVE IN THIS WORLD.

Also how he fucking precision-hits things that Amaram would be insecure about--his knowledge, where we know he thinks he knows fucking everything and has an inflated sense of his own importance, and his image, where Wit is basically like bitch I see you and I know you’re fake as hell. 

And then Dalinar runs over to do damage control because he can’t have Amaram getting too suspicious yet, I imagine. Throughout the whole conversation, Wit keeps dissing Amaram and I remain the most alive I have been in months. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to call Amaram an imbecile...because then I’d have to explain to him what the word means, and I’m not certain any of us have the requisite time.” 

I know it’s petty but I’m petty and thus I take great joy in all of this. 

“Lord Amaram,” Wit called, standing to bow, his voice growing solemn. “I salute you. You are what lesser cretins like Sadeas can only aspire to be.” 

That one still gets me because it’s not even a jibe or a joke. It’s just a statement of fact and you can tell that Wit is dead-serious with that. Amaram also is like “lmao Dalinar I understand your visions better than you! The Almighty isn’t actually dead!!111!! he’s talking in metaphors u dingus!!11!!!!!!” 

Shut the fuck up Amaram, you know jack shit about Honor, don’t talk like you know Honor better than Dalinar. That’s just fucking laughable. 

He also refers to Kaladin only as “the slave.” And says he’d like to hear an apology from Kaladin. “Not for my own ego” Bull. Shit. 

Fucking asshole. 

Also Navani bitchslaps Wit with a handful of papers, and is furious that they edited the papers to make it seem like Navani is ridiculing Dalinar. She’s also ready to eviscerate whoever did this. RIP whoever the fuck leaked this. 

“As I fear not a child with a weapon he cannot lift, I will never fear the mind of a man who does not think.” 

Yeah it’s from the Way of Kings but in context it’s a sick-ass burn. 

So Dalinar just stands on a fucking table and is like “yeah these are the visions I’ve been having, come at me, you already made me a spectacle so honestly fuck you guys for thinking i’d actually be upset by this bullshit.” 

“If you must laugh, do it while looking me in the eyes.” 

Fuck yeah you tell ‘em dad. 

Also, Dalinar notes that Adolin seems very fond of Shallan, and Dalinar wants to encourage that--as long as he can get actual answers out of Jah Keved about her family. Which he won’t be able to because Jah Keved is a fucking mess. 

Dalinar asks if Wit is a Herald--he’s amused, but says no, and also denies being a Radiant. And we get Wit’s chilling line-- “If I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. With tears, yes, but I would let it happen.” 

Also Wit basically says that he has to stop Odium from finding him in order to not die, basically. I still wonder about that WOB that says that Hoid and Rayse were once friends. That seems...quite interesting. 

Over to Kaladin. He’s still having problems inhaling Stormlight--he’s killing Syl, and with her the Nahel bond that gives him his powers. Kaladin you dingus. Syl is acting like a windspren again. 

“You want too much of me,” he snapped at her as he reached the other side of the chasm. “I’m not some glorious knight of ancient days. I’m a broken man. Do you hear me, Syl? I’m broken.”  She zipped up to him and whispered, “That’s what they all were, silly.” 

Bridge Four is still bringing their bridge on this scouting expedition, because Kaladin is a paranoid fuck (for good reason). Rock says that it’s gotten lighter because they defeated Sadeas. Nobody else understands him. 

Also, Renarin is starting to fit in with Bridge Four and joke around with them--and also that he hasn’t summoned his shardblade since the fight. 

For good reason, although neither Kaladin nor Dalinar knows that. Also, this: 

“Sir,” Kaladin said. “If I may say so, your son seems like kind of a misfit. Out of place. Awkward, alone.”  Dalinar nodded.  “Then, I can say with confidence that Bridge Four is probably the best place he could find himself.” 

I LOVE KALADIN’S RAGTAG BAND OF WEIRD MISFITS AND THAT THEY’RE ACCEPTING RENARIN AS ONE OF THEM. 

Also Adolin is now just occasionally making casual conversation with Kaladin. Kaladin also realizes that he’s made two conflicting oaths, and that’s why his powers are going away and Syl is losing sentience. She tells him to find the words, and soon. 

Shallan is geeking out over the bridge. Kaladin notices that he recognizes one of the carpenters, and is confused by it. Moash has stopped coming over for stew nights as often. 

Ouch. 

Kaladin points out that the plains are the worst place for Szeth to attack them, because they have three hundred archers with them and he just sorta. Flies. in the air. 

Adolin asks Kaladin for girl advice. Kaladin is like. my dude. you are asking the wrong person. Too busy trying not to die to date really. Kaladin is just like dude just tell her you really want this relationship to work also why the fuck are you asking me this. 

Also Adolin trying to be nonchalant about getting information about Kaladin. 

“You won’t have a Shardblade, but won’t need one, because of...you know.”  “I know?” Kaladin felt a spike of alarm.  “Yeah...you know.” Adolin glanced away and shrugged, as if trying to act nonchalant. “That thing.”  “What thing?”  “That thing...with the...um, stuff?” 

Kaladin actually manages to smile at how shitty Adolin is at this and just says “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re talking about” which is completely true. 

Also the conversation about how Adolin would pay to see Kaladin happy. That conversation is still lowkey gay and nobody can convince me otherwise. 

Neither of them get why Shallan is so excited about stuff like moss. And bugs. Adolin is trying to make jokes. Badly. 

“You’re good at military thinking, for a bridgeboy,” Adolin said. “Coincidentally,” Kaladin said, “you’re good at not being unobnoxious, for a prince.”  “Thanks,” Adolin said. “That was an insult, dear,” Shallan said. 

God I love all of these losers. 

Anyway, Shallan and Kaladin aren’t getting along well at all. High time for a bonding friendship trip into the caverns!!!! Kaladin notices, just at the right moment, that the man he recognized with the carpenters was one of Sadeas’ lumbermen. Of course, everything happens at once, and the bridge collapses--and down go Kaladin and Shallan. 

And Syl uses the last of their bond to save Kaladin. And the Stormfather fucking yells at him for killing Syl. Both Shallan and Kaladin assume they subconsciously saved the other. 

And so they try to survive. And also not kill each other. Kaladin points out that Shallan is complicit in the class inequality--which she really is, I mean, look at the boots scene--and Shallan responds with something like “oh wow big surprise people with power are abusive” which makes sense given her background but also is not the right response. 

He also does directly use the boots scene as proof she is complicit, which she admits. He also does say she’s better than most of the others. 

Aaaand then their shouting match attracts a chasmfiend and they have to bolt. BRILLIANT, GUYS. 

Also Kaladin notices that Shallan is incredibly unwinded from all this running--wow, I wonder if she’s infusing stormlight on instinct (the answer is yes). Shallan also uses her abilities to hide them and goes to try to see the chasmfiend. Kaladin notes that they look “wrong” and “almost intelligent;” Shallan notes that the spren that follow them also follow skyeels. 

I just had a bad thought. If Parshendi change when the everstorm comes, could the chasmfiends change too? If so, what the FUCK do they turn into? 

I hope I’m wrong. 

Shallan also calls Kaladin “Kaladin Longlegs.” Also she tries to throw some chull jerky at him when he’s not looking and he just catches it. 

Listen, when these two become friends, they will be the Best Sassfriends. 

And yeah, they have a sass contest, which actually amuses both of them. They’re good at it. 

God, I hope they end up as friends instead of part of some unholy twisted love triangle scenario. I fucking hate love triangles and i feel like it would only serve to drive everyone involved apart--which is awful, because I like having two male leads (Adolin and Kaladin) who actually get along half of the fucking time, and robbing me of that is just not fair, Brandon. 

Another powerfully sad moment of miscommunication: 

“All right,” Kaladin said. “Here it is. I can imagine how the world must appear to someone like you. Growing up pampered, with everything you want. To someone like you, life is wonderful and sunny and worth laughing over. That’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you. You haven’t had to deal with pain or death like I have. Sorrow is not your companion.”  Silence. Shallan didn’t reply. How could she reply to that?  “What?” Kaladin finally asked.  “I’m trying to decide how to react,” Shallan said. “You see, you just said something very, very funny.”  “Then why aren’t you laughing?”  “Well, it isn’t that kind of funny.” 

They both understand so little about each other. They are seeing what they expect to see and not what’s underneath--which is two deeply broken people trying to move forward with their lives as best they can. 

Bridge Four is trying to figure out how Kaladin could have survived--Sigzil is grilling Teft about what he knows about the Radiants. Dalinar is trying to convince them not to keep watch for Kaladin, but good fucking luck with that. They’re Bridge Four. They know their captain. Dalinar is just like. You guys make sure you’re actually eating, right? 

He’s such a Dad. 

Anyway, Shallan is making a map, and Kaladin realizes how incredible her skill with drawing and memory is. Also, Shallan is talking to Pattern--and Kaladin realizes it’s like him talking to Syl. 

And Kaladin says that in a dream, he saw that the chasms were symmetrical--and Shallan realizes she can figure out where the parshendi are, and where the oathgate is. 

Shallan tries to point out that Kaladin can’t blame himself about everything. Kaladin immediately proves her wrong. And there’s another heartbreaking moment, this time of connection. 

“Oh, all people understand pain,” Kaladin said. “That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s...”  “The sorrow,” Shallan said softly, “of watching a life crumble? Of struggling to grab it and hold on, but feeling hope become stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses?”  “Yes.”  “The sensation--it’s not sorrow, but something deeper--of being broken. Of being crushed so often, and so hatefully, that emotion becomes something you can only wish for. If only you could cry, because then you’d feel something. Instead, you feel nothing. Just...haze and smoke inside. Like you’re already dead.” He stopped in the chasm. She turned and looked to him. “The crushing guilt,” She said, “of being powerless. Of wishing they’d hurt you instead of those around you. Of screaming and scrambling and hating as those you love are ruined, popped like a boil. And you have to watch their joy seeping away while you can’t do anything. They break the ones you love, and not you. And you plead. Can’t you just beat me instead?”  “Yes, he whispered. Shallan nodded, holding his eyes. “Yes. It would be nice if nobody knew of those things, Kaladin Stormblessed. I agree. With everything I have.” 

God, that section rips my heart out. Shallan represses it, Kaladin has PTSD (well, they both probably do) and they both just wish they could have helped other people. 

These are good kids. 

And immediately they just start joking with each other. Aaand then the puns happen. And then a chasmfiend happens, and they get chased into a fissure. Kaladin wants to go chase it off so that they both can live, and Shallan panics at the thought of being left alone. And so she gives him her shardblade. 

Kaladin is like what the fuck. 

Also, the blade--which is Pattern--actually glows a garnet color. That’s because it’s alive. Also, it doesn’t scream--which Kaladin attributes to him having lost his bond with Syl, but that’s not right. And Kaladin also assumes two things in one sentence: 

“At least this told him one thing--Shallan wasn’t likely to be a Surgebinder. Otherwise, he suspected she’d hate this Blade as much as he did.” 

First, she is a Surgebinder.

Second, she does hate that Blade. 

Anyway, working together--with Pattern, Shallan’s illusions,and Kaladin’s fighting prowess--they kill a Chasmfiend. Also Kaladin’s leg gets Fucked Up. 

Kaladin ends up half in a chasmfiend’s mouth and the first thing he says is fucking ow. 

Anyway, they use the Blade to cut out a cubbyhole to weather the storm in. Shallan is having to train her mind not to blank at the mention or thought of the Shardblade--and she also can make it shrink. 

That’s not normal. 

Anyway, as Kaladin climbs into the cubbyhole and the stormwall hits, we get a Shallan flashback. She’s wearing her father’s necklace and a nice Vorin-style dress, and reporting that nobody has been able to find Helaran. 

For some reason, their father summoned Eylita to their house. This has got to be it--this is when Shallan kills her father to save Balat. Shallan finds Malise’s dead body--Father found out about the plan, sent for Eylita, and then murdered his own wife as a punishment. 

Shallan pours wine as her brother and father fight each other. This says a lot about how utterly Shallan had managed to subsume herself in other personas--she is outwardly calm even with this, with having seen a dead body of her own stepmother, with her brother and father trying to kill each other. 

And she pours wine and gives it to him. He drinks it, and then reaches for the poker--and severely injures Balat by slamming against his leg as Shalan screams. 

And as the rain pounds outside, her father starts to lose control of his fine motor skills. Shallan is cold--it’s her when she’s at rock-bottom. When she lost her mother, now, when she kills Tyn--when Shallan is at rock-bottom she is a stone-cold killer. 

Which is good, because it keeps her brothers and herself alive. 

But the poison only paralyzed him, and so--Shallan asks her brothers to finish the job, but none of them can. Jushu and Wikim back up. Balat isn’t conscious. So Shallan strangles him with the necklace he gave her, while singing the lullaby that he sung to her. 

Fuck, this scene is chilling and horrible. Shallan had to do it--her father would have murdered them all, one day, and probably only avoided her because he knew that she had a Shardblade and was scared--but god, that’s so brutal. 

Back to Kaladin. He gets in the cavern as Shallan uses her sphere to pull him up; they both see what looks like a screaming face in the storm. Kaladin sees something that looks like a giant, inhuman form glowing in the storm, completely alien, striding in it. 

Cool.

Anyway, Kaladin tells her his story--everything, including Amaram. Why not? They were about to die anyway. And she tells him that she killed her father, and about her own breaking; Kaladin realizes how lucky he was that his family loved him. 

Shallan was not that lucky. 

And Kaladin also realizes that he must have killed Helaran, which hurts. Anyway, Kaladin has a vision of the Stormfather in the storm and gets chewed the fuck out for killing Syl. 

Back to Dalinar. Amaram is trying to get him to make an agreement with Sadeas of some sort. Bull fucking shit. Shut the fuck up, Amaram. And then they get the message that Kaladin came out of the chasms. 

Dalinar runs the entire way there. 

He’s such a good dad. 

Aaaand he finds it hard to get through because so much of Bridge Four is already there. They know their Captain. And Kaladin fucking brought back the gemheart as well, of course. 

“Yeah, we took care of that for you, sir.” fuckin hell Kaladin. 

Shallan lies and says it was already dead, Kaladin agrees, Dalinar notes that Kaladin is a shit liar. 

And Navani has warmed up to Shallan enough to run over to her and mother hen her hardcore. I don’t think she wanted to lose another young scholar. 

Anyway, Dalinar asks if Kaladin was what he was looking for, and Kaladin denies it--he says he might have been, but not now. Dalinar also notes that Kaladin is a hero again. 

Also wow, looks like Amaram just vanished, what a surprise, looks like he can’t stand the sight of a certain slave being a hero, huge surprise there, i’m shocked

Also Pattern eavesdropped on Dalinar and Navani and offers to reproduce the sound of them kissing and Shallan is like. You know what. no. no thanks pattern. maybe not. 

Also Adolin shows up and just hugs Shallan a lot, and then she kisses him. Nice. He also said that he would protect her and not let anything bad happen to her--which causes her to freeze up. 

Last person who did that was her father. Don’t try to hide her away, Adolin, she murdered the last man who did that. 

And Shallan also convinces them not to take the parshment with them, which was A Good Call because the parshendi are calling down the everstorm and all those parshmen would go stormform. 

Aaaand that ends Part Four! 

[aliceellablog]

I know! Why don’t I go on a blind date on the tele....

Hello you lovely wonderful amazing blog readers… enough to make you wanna read on?! I hear flattery will get you everywhere!!

Soooo these last two weeks have been pretty surreal! - I’ll start where I left off, two weeks ago…

So I started the week resting in bed, yaaaaay! - (please note the sarcasm)… but then managed two days in the studio with Warren and Scott who I LOOOOVEEEEEE :)

We are working on a bunch of J-pop tracks (think pop on acid for the Japanese market) so that was really fun and I really love spending time with them.

We found out this week that two of them are on hold!! Yaaaaassss!! (this means that the artist who we wrote them for has basically put them in a pile of yes’s and then chooses which songs to actually release from that selection!) So definitely a massively exciting step in the right direction but can’t get too excited about it just yet! Eeeek!

However (dun dun duuuuuun) on the second day there I had pretty much lost my voice and was feeling worse than usual - annoying huh!! So I went home that evening and low and behold came down with a bladdy full on fluey coldy thing. Feck.

So I spent the next say 5 days fully in bed (and maybe an hour or two in the garden working on ma tan ;) and lost the will to live! Yay!!! (Sorry, today is a sarcastic day it would seem!)

I wasn’t well enough to see me dad on Fathers day - sorry pap!! And had to cancel all of my plans yet again.

It’s been 11 days now and I am still feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m still coughing a lot but the rest of the cold symptoms have gone - I think this is one of the most frustrating things with the old M.E. - that you can be getting on the right track and then get a cold or virus and it completely knocks you for six (not even sure what that means but my mum says it a lot so….) It’s almost like once the cold has gone it’s given you a mini M.E. relapse to deal with too. Thanks for that.

I did however have a much better day on Tuesday - I’d spent the day in bed but then felt a little better so got up, put my face on and had one of my best friends Ewa come over - she has been away in Asia for like 8 months or something! It was SO good to see her - even though she is a tanned goddess of a woman!!!! - the jealousy is REAL! Hahaha ;) But catching up with her was like we had never been apart (Ewa you’d better be reading this) hahah, we are so on the same wavelength, you know when you fully just click with someone? Yea… that’s her <3 - this pic is from last year when we went to Freinds fest togeths :) :)

So... that evening was one of the most surreal moments of my life I reckon!…. Watching myself go on a date on TV… as you do… on Channel 4’s First Dates!!

I think the reason I felt a bit better that day was actually because I had so much adrenaline and was so freakin’ nervous!!! The date was filmed months and months ago so it was quite the build up!!

My best friends and I all sat around the tele watching love island before hand… everyone was chilled and on their phones and I was sat there having a nervous breakdown… I could not keep still or quiet and pretty much had the most energy right there and then that I’ve ever had (yes I may be exaggerating as per) - but nerves do strange things to a person eh!

So then the clock struck 10pm and it was time!!! ARGHGHGHGHHHHHHH!!!!!!

At one point we didn’t think I was even going to be on it because they kept our date right until the end but then suddenly there I was… what a strange moment!!

Cringe cringe cringe cringe cringe….

WHY did I talk about cats so much!!??

And WHY did I cry on national TV?! - actually I’ll tell you why!! When they do the interview bit they ask you questions for about 2 hours, so by the end I was exhausted and obviously trying to act positive and ‘well’ the whole time.

When they got onto the subject of my health they really did push it a lot…. ‘That must be awful’ ‘How do you cope?’ ‘How does that make you feel?’ ‘What about all your friends living their normal lives?’ yea… they found my weakness and basically asked me about it until I broke and cried… AWKWARD!! But I really don’t blame them at all, it’s one of the things I put in my application and something that I guess makes me who I am. They want to get the best tele possible and I guess I am glad in a way as it does truly represent how I feel about it!

It’s now up on Channel 4’s 4OD website by the way (my date comes on at around 30 mins in incase you don’t fancy watching the whole thing) and here is the link: (Series 8 Episode 10) : http://www.channel4.com/programmes/first-dates/on-demand/65067-009

Now here’s the thing… I had such a lovely time - luckily I was having quite a good day for the date so genuinely enjoyed it but it was so so tiring!! And you’ll never guess what- I caught a cold that evening and then died for quite a while afterwards!

Anyway, Luke was (as you will have seen) LOVELY and we really got on so well! He was funny and respectful and when I spoke about my health issues he seemed really understanding, I couldn’t have asked for more really!…well…ok I guess I could have, but it’s in no way his fault… I didn’t feel a spark or that ‘thing’ you feel when you meet someone and you really fancy them. I really honestly thought I was going to go on this date and fall in love so was actually really sad when I got home that evening…how embarrassing lol…

So during the date I went into the toilets (which for some reason they kept in) and then I called two of my bestests Katie and Grace on the phone- I spoke to them and said that I really wasn’t sure, and that I was a bit disappointed as there wasn’t that spark - Which they edited out?? But fair enough- they edited out a lot to be fair! We were there for hours and you guys saw maybe ten minutes!

Then at the end when you go into the room together and speak to camera about how the date went they said ‘so do you want to see each other again?’

Luke said yes straight away, and I then kind of pulled an awkward face, Luke said ‘ohhhhh… hesitation!!!’ And we laughed a lot. It was genuinely all good vibes. Then I went on to apologise and say something along the lines of ‘I’m so sorry I’m just not sure, like I don’t feel that spark etc but yea… I think you’re a lovely guy and we got on great so we will def keep in touch!’ ….First dates decided to just keep the latter part in the edit, and then at the end when they show all the ‘what happened next’ stuff, there was nothing about me and Luke!

They had called and asked if we had seen each other again which we hadn’t and they decided not to put that in.

I think that they maybe just wanted it to all come across really nicely and positively, which I do think is lovely but it’s not quite how it happened! That’s ok with me though :)

But… there is one bit that I really do wish was edited differently!!!! The money bit. WAHHHHH

So here’s what you guys saw pon d tele box:

The bill arrives and I say ‘Ah, I forgot my money’ - Luke offers to pay and I thank him.

What really happened:

Before the date you are kept in a greenroom - separate from your date of course as it really is a genuine ‘blind date’.

I was there for maybe two hours and was nervous as hell. You know your date is going to be soon but you’re not told an exact time. All of a sudden it was ‘Alice, we need to go and get you mic’d up’

So I went with them and left all my bags, and purse etc in this greenroom.

From being mic’d up and meeting various producers etc it was straight into the restaurant for the date and I was so nervous that I‘d genuinely forgotten that I hadn’t brought anything with me - not even my lipgloss!!! LOL

I was going on TV and having a blind date and had so much rushing around my head! To be honest I just wanted to get through it!!!

Then after our date when it came to paying I insisted on paying my half and Luke insisted on paying for it which was of course really sweet of him but I said no. I reached for my purse and looked around me and then had a moment of realisation!! I said something like ‘oh my god!! I am so so so sorry!!! You’ll never guess what I’ve gone and done?! I’ve left my purse in the greenroom!! Ah I forgot my money!!’ We laughed a lot about how badly it was going to come across and they just kept all of that out, so now I have to read all of these horrible tweets from people thinking that I just turned up on a date with no money - I would NEVER do that!!!!!

NAT COOL :( :( :(

The next day I did a little interview with Unilad and basically said all of that to them! I was happy to do that and they kept it true to what I had said :) But then the Daily Mirror stole their article and twisted it saying I had said the show was rigged!! Not fair! Not what I said at all! Oh well…..

Anyway I guess the people who know me and love me know that I would never do that, and I’ll just have to let the haterz hate ;)

Speaking of haterz (sorry it feels wrong to spell it with an ’s’) there have also been a few tweets or Facebook comments, from people who so clearly don’t understand M.E. and what its like to live with it :(

‘How come she can do wedding gigs but isn’t well enough to date?’ - I have recently had to take two years out from gigging due to having an M.E. relapse. This of course has broken my heart and been pretty damn hard to feel with, but VERY long story short I am now at the point where I am gigging again but not as often as I would like. I have a stool that I take with me that I kinda lean/sit on and try and style it out. I have to rest for days before and about a week after a gig. It’s really hard but I am trying my best. If anyone dares think I am exaggerating or lying they can absolutely do one!

M.E. is one of the most misunderstood illnesses as we usually look ‘fine’ and it is an ‘invisible illness’ but I am getting used to people not understanding now after 14 years of it!

I do remember once being in a food shop with my mum pushing me around in my wheelchair- she left me to go and get some bits for a few minutes and I wanted a sandwhich which was just out of reach from where I was sat. I got up out of my wheelchair, walked maybe 3 steps and got the sandwich - I noticed a man giving me the most kind of shocked ‘you liar’ look!! So I looked him in the eye, sat back down, brought my finger to my lips and did a ‘shhhhhh’  before my mum returned.

It was just like the Little Britain sketch! It’s so funny how people think that for example if you are in a wheelchair it HAS to mean that you can not walk at all!! At that stage I think I could walk a few paces, get in and out of the car and that’s about it- just because I could get the sandwich didn’t mean I could walk all around the shop or town!!

It’s a weird one to deal with and I know I talk about it a lot but it’s SO hard to explain! But like I say… I’m gon let the haterz hate.

On the other hand, I have received literally hundreds of messages from people thanking me for talking about M.E. on the tele and getting that little bit more awareness out there!

This in itself has made the whole thing completely worth while :)

I even had messaged saying things like - ‘I was watching with my sister and she hugged me for the first time about my M.E.’

I mean - wow…. messages like that just make me cry basically!!! (In a nice way!) And people saying that they feel inspired to see that I’ve made so much progress from the wheelchair days and that it IS possible to get better (even though of course I am nowhere near where I want to be but I can also see how far I’ve come). This makes me so so happy and I am going to do all I can to keep raising understanding and awareness of this illness.

Oh yea and one more thing that didn’t come across exactly how it happened or how I would have wanted it to was when Luke opened up to me about his mother having passed away. I was of course so shocked and felt so so sad for his loss - On screen you saw me say how sorry I was to hear that and then it jumped straight to a comment I made which was ‘I can’t even imagine what you went through, I’m very lucky I haven’t had to deal with grief really before. The only time I have is when my cat died’ ... now this is NOT what I meant - I had said for a fair few more minutes than was shown, that I was so sorry for his loss and I was trying to explain how I couldn’t relate or even imagine it- yes I mentioned my cats death but mean it in the way of - I have never been through anything like it.... and it kinda sounded like I was comparing the two. AGH!!!! not what I meant!! Also we were getting on and having such a laugh that the subject somehow got changed again so quickly after he’d said that, that we were just laughing again within minutes and he was specifically taken away and asked to talk about his mum as the subject hadn’t naturally come up in the first place.

I am now working with a charity called ‘Action for M.E.’ and hope to do lots with them including raise money for them at my next gig :) (https://www.actionforme.org.uk/ )

Also keep an eye out on July 10th as I will be going on the TV Channel ‘London Live’ (available on Sky and Freeview) at 6.15pm to speak about M.E. etc :)

Live tv…. That’s gonna be interesting!! This whole thing was bad enough hahahah

Soooooo… keep in touch peoples :) I am going to go and cook myself a nice gluten free spag Bol now, and then have a few more days of resting planned but am praying that I don’t have to cancel the rest of my week! We shall see!!

Huuuuge thank you again to everyone who has been in touch, it means so so much to me and every message gives me such a lift :) We can do this! :) xxx love and strength to anyone suffering, well, anything really! :) xx mwah

P.s. here’s the link to the pre order for my new single ’24 Obsession’ just incase you are interested ;) …. can’t blame me can ya? ;) http://ambiel.uk/24ObsPreOrder

[haikyuuhaven]

Soulmate AU Iwaoi

WARNING! Dark content!! Word Count: 4944 AN: Hey there reader! This piece isn’t fully edited and was written on a whim, if there are any critical flaws please let me know! I live for constructive criticism. This is the first piece I’ve written and completed since I started college, so please let me know if you like it. The story might be a little jumpy, I was originally going to make it into a short series, but decided on a one-shot instead. This is just a little addition, this is an ANGST piece, if you don’t like those kinds of one-shots, please don’t read this.

~Risa (The Wonderful World of Haikyuu Admin)

 Soulmate AU- Last Words Iwaoi

 It was a cruel fate indeed, to live in a world where soulmates existed, but you wouldn't know until it was far too late to truly matter. You could have a lifetime together, or you could only have a handful of moments. When an individual's soulmate utters their last living words, the words would appear on the wrist of their soulmate. There would be no knowing if you had met your soulmate until one had passed away.

 Oikawa Tōru believed that he had found his soulmate, but he didn't ever want to find out if he was correct. The mere thought of seeing the last words of his soulmate appear in his wrist filled him with dread. He so firmly believed that he had found his soulmate in his best friend, and yet he didn't dare tell the slightly older male. He couldn't risk possibly destroying his friendship with Iwaizumi Hajime, he wouldn't dare risk it on a mere whim. The duo had already spent so much time apart at this point, with both of them attending universities in different areas, it was sometimes impossible for them to meet up. Oikawa didn't want to risk Iwaizumi distancing himself because of an assumption that could prove too far from true. Distance and time would never effect Oikawa's feelings, and he knew that Iwaizumi would always be his friend, but pushing for anything more almost felt too selfish. As much as he wished for more, he could still be content with the fact that he still had his friend. As of recently, Iwaizumi had decided to visit, and Oikawa was now waiting for the call so he could finally pick him up. It felt like he had been waiting a lifetime and yet he still hadn't heard from Iwaizumi. 

 He quickly ran out of patience and decided to call Iwaizumi, unwilling to wait anymore. He immediately went to FaceTime Iwaizumi, but before he could, he got a FaceTime request from the man in question. He quickly answered and Iwaizumi's face appeared on the small screen, he looked annoyed, which amused Oikawa for some reason. 

 "Iwa-Chan, where are you?" Oikawa whined dramatically while staring at the small image of Iwaizumi, who looked greatly annoyed by his childhood friend. "Eh! Are you still at your university?!"

 "Oi, will you be quiet for a second?! I got caught up in some work, and so I can't leave yet. I'm going have to push back this visit a little bit, but I'll be there in the morning so don't bother waiting up for me." Iwaizumi responded, the annoyance clear in his tone.

 "That's too long for me to wait!" Oikawa cried

 "It's not even that long Shittykawa! Just go to bed and I'll be there in the morning." Iwaizumi didn't quite understand why his friend was so desperate to see him, but he almost relieved to have a reason to visit.

 "Fine fine, what time will you be here?" Oikawa questioned pouting

 "Probably around eight or nine, you better not forget to pick me up from the station again." 

 "That was one time!"

 "One time too many!" 

 "I won't forget, I promise!" Oikawa whined, the last time Iwaizumi had visited him, he had been late to pick him up, but he most certainly did not forget to pick him up. He had been so excited about the visit that he couldn't fall asleep and then ended up oversleeping the next morning. This time he was determined to not let that happen, he was too excited to see his friend after they had spent over a year apart.

 "Alright, then go to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning." He said

 "Okay Iwa-Chan, goodnight!" Oikawa flashed a peace sign and grinned slightly.

 "Oh look, another rare genuine smile, it's so weird seeing you without any ulterior motives." Iwaizumi said in a bored tone.

 "How rude Iwa-Chan! I never have any ulterior motives!"

 "Pfft, right, either way, goodnight, I'll see you soon Crappykawa." Iwaizumi said, his lip twitched into a brief smile at Oikawa’s childish behavior before ending the call. Oikawa puffed out his cheeks as he pouted slightly. Iwaizumi had always made comments like that, but despite his harsh words, it was always clear that he cared deeply for his childhood friend. 

 “Less than twelve hours until I get to see him again.” Oikawa sat in his bed, trying to fight off the smile on his face that just refused to go away; he fell back and grinned at the ceiling. He had set at least four alarms at this point to make sure that he would be up and ready to go by the time Iwaizumi arrived. To say he was excited was an understatement, waiting so long to see him felt unbearable. With some hesitation, the twenty-year-old got ready for bed so he wouldn’t make the mistake of sleeping through his alarms. He restlessly laid in bed, ready for the morning to come, he closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

 "You're the best partner that I can boast. You're a really amazing setter. Even if the team changes, that will not change. But when we fight, I will defeat you." For some reason, the words seemed to play in Oikawa's dreams. He had yet to face off against Iwaizumi in a match, but he still remembers the promise that was made years ago. At the end of the day, there really weren't too many moments that he had forgotten, it was nearly impossible to forget all the time he had spent with Iwaizumi. Whether the moments were sheer chaos or blissful peace, they all had a special place in Oikawa's heart. Unbeknownst to him, Iwaizumi felt the same way. They cherished their moments together, even when they got locked in arguments. Neither of them could ever regret their friendship, Oikawa still clearly remembered the day he said goodbye. It was the night of his farewell party, and it was getting late, he had to leave early the next morning, but didn't feel anywhere close to prepared.

 "Oi, Crappykawa, why are you being so quiet?" Iwaizumi questioned

 "I was just thinking..." The brunette responded as he stared at the sky, he was having an internal conflict with himself as he sat with his best friend. He knew this may be his last chance to admit his feeling, and yet the thought of even trying was nauseating. He hadn't realized just how unprepared he was to leave.

 "About?" Iwaizumi asked

 "Iwa-Chan, I'm leaving tomorrow, and I don't really know when I'll be back," Oikawa said the sadness was clear in his voice.

 "So, you really were just faking happiness for your party." Iwaizumi said bluntly

 "No, it's not like that, I was really happy at the party, but now, it's just different." He said "you know, we might not see each other again, we might not be friends anymore after this."

 "What are you even saying Oikawa?" Iwaizumi said before hitting Oikawa upside the head.

 "Ow, Iwa-Chan!" Oikawa cried

 "Don't be dumb, it's not like we're never going to see each other again, we're not even going to be that far away from each other. Besides, did you already forget? We're going to fight on the court one day, and I'm definitely not going to leave you alone once I win." Iwaizumi scoffed

 "Who said I'm gonna let you win?" Oikawa said defiantly.

 "Who said it was up to you?" Iwaizumi responded, and Oikawa smiled slightly, feeling reassured by Iwaizumi's words. The two of them hadn't gone more than a day without talking in the past two years, but their opportunities to visit each other seemed to fall with each passing month. Between exams, projects, and practice, they rarely had time to see each other, and their summers were always packed with different tasks. Oikawa felt depressed whenever he thought about how rare it was for him to see Iwaizumi, but it made the times they could visit even more significant. Maybe it was time for Oikawa to share his theory with Iwaizumi, to tell him that they were soulmates would take a weight off of Oikawa's shoulders. If Iwaizumi did return his feels, then there would be a greater reason for them to try to visit one another. Oikawa had set his resolve there, maybe it was a risk, but it was a risk worth taking. He didn't want to make the mistake of keeping his feelings a secret until it was too late, he didn't want to learn that he was right all along when the fated last words appeared on his wrist. He would rather risk this now and have the chance of living a happy life with Iwaizumi. Even if he was proven wrong in the end, he would gladly be wrong if it meant Iwaizumi at least knew his feelings.

 With that final thought, Oikawa's alarm rang, awakening him with ease; his excitement motivated him to quickly jump out of bed and go get ready. It was seven, so it wasn't painfully early, which only made Oikawa's morning more pleasant. Oikawa showered, and went about his normal morning routine, with the except of breakfast which he decided could wait until after he had picked up Iwaizumi. He checked his phone to see that Iwaizumi had texted him earlier to tell him that he was boarding the six o'clock train. 'He must have had to have woken up so early to catch that train.' Oikawa thought as he turned on his TV, the second he did he was greeted by a red banner that read "breaking news" 

 "Early this morning, there was a reported incident involving the bullet train on course to Tokyo. The train departed from its first station at approximately five am and was scheduled to arrive in Tokyo at eight, but on its route from Miyagi to Tokyo, the train derailed with 156 passengers on board. The current condition of many of the passengers is unknown, but it is assumed that a mass majority is most likely in critical condition. News on the incident will be updated hourly, thank you for watching channel 5 news." The reporter stated from the screen, a solemn expression on their face; Oikawa's eyes went wide as he fumbled around to find his phone. That was the train Iwaizumi was supposed to be on, he was almost certain of it; he didn't hesitate to dial his friend's number. With the phone pressed to his ear, he tried to be patient while he waited for the call to go through.

 "Hey, you've reach Iwaizumi Hajime, I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you when I can." Oikawa was sent straight to voicemail and a sense of dread seemed to pierce his heart.

 "No, there's no way," Oikawa said breathlessly as he tried calling again and again and again, each time being sent to voicemail. He shook his head in disbelief and his eyes landed on his wrist, he didn't want to turn it over, he didn't want to see if anything was written on the other side. It took every shred of motivation he had to flip his wrist, and even when he did, he could not will himself to look. He forced his eyes to his wrist, and the second he did, his stomach dropped. There was faint black writing sprawled across his wrist, a phrase he didn't want to see.

 I'm going to Tokyo to visit an old friend of mine

 Oikawa felt like he might break down at the second, he would have burst into tears if it weren't for the fact that he was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone.

 "Hello?" He answered, his voice completely empty.

 "Hello, is this Oikawa Tōru?" The voice on the line questioned

 "Yes?" Oikawa answered

 "You were listed as Iwaizumi Hajime's emergency contact, he is currently at Tokyo General Hospital and you were appointed his proxy should he be unable to express his own wishes." The women said

 "W-What? But we're not family, shouldn't his parents be the ones to make those kinds of decisions?" Oikawa questioned in confusion.

 "Typically, that would be the case, but he listed you as his proxy should anything happen to him. If you could please come to the hospital, the doctors will be able to discuss the possibilities." She said

 "Of course, I'll be right there," Oikawa answered; he ended the call without a second thought and was out the door in a matter of minutes, forgetting to turn off the TV in his rush. Iwaizumi was alive, but the words sprawled on his wrist were something he would have said. Oikawa questioned if he was wrong about his theory, or if the soulmate mark was incorrect. This didn't make sense to him in the slightest, but in this moment, that was far from his greatest concern. He was almost certain that he had never been in such a rush to get anywhere, but nothing had felt quite as important as this moment. He didn't know what could happen in the next few minutes, he didn't know Iwaizumi's condition, all he knew was that he didn't want to spend another moment away. He had probably broken the speed limit at this point while racing to the hospital, but he honestly didn't care, it didn't matter. He jogged through the hospital doors and immediately went to the front desk, he tried to keep his composure, but to say it was difficult was an understatement.

 "Hello, can I help you?" The woman at the main desk asked

 "Yes, I'm Oikawa Tōru, and I got a call that my friend is in the hospital, apparently, I'm his proxy," Oikawa answered, his voice wavering slightly as he spoke, his panic slowly becoming overwhelming.

 "Alright, what is the patient’s name?" She asked

 "Iwaizumi Hajime..." he answered, she quickly nodded and went silent for a moment as she typed in the information. After a few seconds, she held out a small badge with Oikawa's name printed on it.

 "Go up to the eighth floor and go speak to the person at the desk there, they will call the doctor you need to speak with." She sent a sympathetic smile to the man, who only barely noticed it.

 "Thank you." He said before quickly following her directions and making his way to the eighth floor. The whole situation seemed to blur by in his panic, the next thing he knew was waiting for the doctor in a private room, his leg shaking in anticipation.

 "Oikawa Tōru?" Oikawa's head quickly snapped towards the door and he stood up.

 "That's me," Oikawa said, probably speaking a little too fast.

 "Hello, I'm Dr. Kenzo, I am Iwaizumi Hajime's doctor." A slightly petite woman said as she outstretched her hand to shake his, Oikawa lightly shook her hand.

 "How is he?" Oikawa asked, not caring too much about introductions at the moment.

 "He has been stabilized for now, but he is in critical condition, he was extremely lucky to have even made it to the hospital. As it stands, we have nearly lost him three times, and it was a miracle that we got him back on the last incident." She answered

 "So where do we go from here?" Oikawa questioned

 "We can't do too much at the moment, his condition isn't nearly stable enough for us to act at the moment. We have to wait until he shows more signs of stability before he could say for sure. With that being said, his condition over the last hour has been deteriorating rapidly." She said sadly

 "What are you trying to tell me right now?" Oikawa said, his voice betraying all of his feelings.

 "It might be in your best interest to say your goodbyes, his chance of survival is very small." She said

 "Am I allowed to sit in his room?" Oikawa asked, the dread slowly settling in his chest, he didn’t know what to do, for once he felt completely lost.

 “Yes, at least for now.” Dr. Kenzo tried to stop herself from sending a sympathetic look toward the younger male in front of her, but she knew that there were only so many things she could do.

 “I don’t know if you know the answer, but how many people survived this accident?” All the energy that Oikawa had when he woke up this morning seemed to fade into a sense of self-loathing.

 “If I recall correctly, there were 156 people total on the train, we didn’t get all of them, but we took in around 70 people. Fifty were pronounced dead on site, and of the 70, only ten are not in critical condition.” She said, trying her best to break it down, though she didn’t entirely know why he wanted to know. “The remaining patients were sent to another hospital, and I believe most of them were stabilized, but their condition isn’t significantly better than the patients we received.”

 “Is there any chance he’ll recover?” Oikawa asked

 “I can’t say for sure at the moment, we’re doing everything we can.” She said, Oikawa already knew that there wasn’t anything that could be done, the words on his wrist nearly assured that. “I can take you to his room now if you’d like.”

 “That would be good.” Oikawa nodded, but he was slightly afraid of what he might see, she nodded and motioned for him to follow her. As they walked down the hall, he felt like he was practically dragging himself, when they stopped in front of a sliding glass door, with the curtains drawn to avoid any prying eyes, Oikawa could feel his blood run cold, and he could hear his heart beat.

 “Before we go in, I should tell you what you expect.” She said, wincing slightly as she spoke, she could tell how hard this was for him. “In the accident, there was a lot of debris, shattered glass, and sharp metal rods mainly, so he has a fairly large number of cuts across his body, and several on his face. A fire started shortly after the crash, and he has several burns on his torso and legs, although, his burns are mainly first degree burns, so it’s not nearly as bad as some of his other injuries. His right arm and leg were broken, and we believe there may have also been a spinal injury. We have him on a ventilator because he currently can’t breathe on his own, and an IV that’s administering painkillers and other medications he needs.”

 “Alright,” Oikawa said as he let out a shaky sigh, he didn’t know what else to say, his legs felt like they might give out any second.

 “Are you ready to go in?” She asked

 “Yes.” He answered dully, she nodded one last time before opening the door, she walked him through the rules before leaving him alone in the room. Standing in the room by himself, he suddenly felt petrified, he couldn’t breathe, the sight in front of him was too painful.

 Iwaizumi was lying unconscious in the bed, wrapped in several blood-stained bandages, and connected to more monitors, and other medical equipment than Oikawa could keep track of. He slowly walked over to the side of the bed, and fell into the chair, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know if he should say something, or if silence was better. Every day he had spent with Iwaizumi had felt like it moved too quickly, but in this time of uncertainty, it suddenly felt like time wasn’t moving at all.

 “Iwa-Chan, what are you doing lazing around like this, get it together.” Oikawa pouted slightly as he spoke to his unconscious friend. For some reason, it was the first thing he could think to say, for once he wouldn’t mind if Iwaizumi would just wake up to call him a crappy guy. He didn’t care if all the older boy had for him was insults, it would always be better than this silence.

 “You’re so much better than this, you’re so strong, you can’t give up today, you don’t give up,” Oikawa said desperately, each hour that passed made the silence more and more painful. “Don’t you remember your promise? You were going to fight me on the court, we were going to face off, you swore you were going to beat me. Remember?” Time continued to pass, and nothing seemed to change, Oikawa was just glad that it hadn’t taken a turn for the worst.

 “Iwa-Chan, do you remember all those nights we’ve spent together, training late, and working to accomplish our goals?” Oikawa said, 13 hours had passed since he had arrived at the hospital, it was almost 10, and he hadn’t stopped speaking to his childhood friend for more than ten minutes since he entered the room. “We had so many dreams, you can’t let them end today, push forward, keep moving forward. You’re unbreakable, you made me feel like anything was possible, don’t fall now. I’m here for you, your family, your friends, everyone, they’re waiting for you. Don’t leave us all behind, no one wants to live without you, you’re too important.”

 "Iwa-Chan, please, please hang on." Oikawa pleaded desperately, his voice was hoarse and tears streaked his face as they fell onto the pristine hospital bed. He squeezed his best friend's hand, praying for at least some kind of small response. Almost 16 hours had passed, and there was still no change, nurses and doctors rotated in and out, but hardly any spoke to him. "Hajime, I'm your soulmate, please don't leave me." Never before had Oikawa felt this much panic or pain, the words imprinted on his wrist mocked him as he knew that there was nothing he could do. 

 I'm going to Tokyo to visit an old friend of mine

 If he hadn't wanted Iwaizumi to visit so badly, this would never have happened, both of them would still be okay, but Oikawa so selfishly wanted to see his friend. Iwaizumi had gotten on the train because Oikawa had begged him to visit. 'He shouldn't have been on that train, he shouldn't be the one laying in a hospital bed!' Oikawa’s own thoughts betrayed him and worsened his anguish as he wept. "Please don't leave me, I love you." There was a slight change in the rhythm from the heart monitor. Oikawa felt a brief surge of hope as his eyes snapped to the dark screen, but the small glimmer of hope was extinguished in a fraction of a second as the once steady beat wavered. 

 The peaks dropped at an alarmingly fast rate, and the monitors blared, alerting all the medical personal that something was wrong. Oikawa's mind seemed to move in slow motion as a team of doctors and nurses raced in, promptly pushing him out of the way, and nearly forcing him to leave the room. He could only barely comprehend the hurried orders as the doctors worked feverishly to restart the once strong beating heart. Although only a few minutes had passed, it felt like hours, with each failed attempt to restart his friend's heart, Oikawa felt like a part of himself was slowly being torn apart into irreparable pieces. 

 Memories of all the things he had done with Iwaizumi, memories of their childhood, all seemed to come flooding back in unrelenting waves. Every year spent together, every day spent laughing, every hour spent on the court, every minute spent in playful arguments and every meaningful second that Oikawa would never be able to forget. The thought of losing the person who meant the world to him was suffocating, and the pain was unbearable. Trying to imagine the world without him would be more the Oikawa would ever be able to bear; he silently prayed, hoping that some kind of miracle would happen to take away all of his worries. Every last cell of his body hoped for a miracle, even with the knowledge the Iwaizumi had already spoken his last words.

 “Please Iwaizumi, hold on for me, just hold on, I can’t live without you.” Oikawa pleaded quietly, knowing that his words were going completely unheard. 

 An eerie silence suddenly filled the hall, there wasn't a single order left to be made, there was not a single thing that could be done.

 "Time of death, 12:58 am..." and with the simple sentence, Oikawa felt as though his entire world had collapsed. The world around him seemed to speed by, but he couldn't move as he watched the doctors and nurses leave the room, each casting a sympathetic look towards him. He couldn't enter the room, the thoughts of what he might see were enough to make him feel physically sick. His back hit the wall and he slowly slid to the ground, the shock of what had just happened taken over his mind. One final doctor left Iwaizumi's room, and she slowly approached the man who was sitting on the ground with a tear stained face.

 "We've removed all the monitors, and bandaged him up, would you like to say goodbye?" She asked gently

 "To what? He's already gone." Oikawa said, the bitterness clear in each word.

 "Maybe so, but this may help, even if only a little." She said, with a defeated sigh, Oikawa pulled himself up and trailed after the doctor back into the room. The atmosphere had changed, all hope was gone, and now everything just felt cold. "Please take all the time you need."

 "Thank you," Oikawa said tiredly as he sat beside Iwaizumi's bed, he lightly took his hand and held it. "Your hand is still warm, and for once you actually look peaceful; I feel like you're just going to wake up at any second and mock me for crying. I miss you already, never has anyone meant as much to me as you did." He said with the exhaustion from the last sixteen hours finally starting to set in. If Oikawa had even a shred of composure before, it was gone now, this was it; this was Iwaizumi’s last living moments, those were his last words. There were no mistakes, Oikawa was not proven wrong, he had lost his soulmate because he had wanted to see him.

 On some level, he knew that this wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known that this would happen but that didn’t lessen the pain in the slightest. His loss was right in front of him, all he wanted was to see his friend; to talk, to spend time together, to just have one another. Now, he would never get that luxury again, they had said their last words to each other. If Iwaizumi was really his soulmate then the words on his wrist would be ones of love. Oikawa hesitantly turned his friend’s wrist, and a strangled sob slipped past his lips.

 Please don’t leave me, I love you.

There was no denying that the person he lost was his soulmate, and there was no longer anything he could do to fix it. All the words left unsaid, the fear that had stopped him for telling Iwaizumi sooner seemed so trivial. How could he have allowed his fear to stop him when he knew that they days were so limited? He didn’t take his chance, and lost it; he was starting to feel like he lost the only thing that really mattered to him. He would sacrifice anything if it gave him just one more chance if he had just one more day with his friend he would have changed so many things. It was too late for these kinds of thoughts, he was so close to telling Iwaizumi everything, and yet, in the end, his resolve meant nothing.

 Life would go on, the community would repair the damage, and people would continue to live. For many, this was a horrific tragedy, but it didn’t affect them in the slightest. Oikawa was not one of those people, there was nothing that could repair his kind of damage. Nothing could fix the damage done to his heart and mind, nothing could resolve the new-found hatred for life. He had never been one to have such a negative view of the world, but now, nothing seemed meaningful. Volleyball, school, love, friends, family; none of it seemed the same anymore. It was like looking at the world through a cracked camera lens that would never be repaired.

 The twenty-years-old Oikawa continued to live, but without his former sense of purpose, and with an emptiness in his heart that would never be filled. He found too many evenings would be spent sitting by his friend’s grave, and all of his passions seemed to slip between his fingers; life seemed to mock him in every effort he made. He tried to make the most of his life, he tried to live because he knew it would have been what Iwaizumi wished.

 On one particular day, he found himself sitting in front of Iwaizumi’s grave, a bouquet of flowers in his arms as he spoke to the headstone, knowing that there was no one here to hear his sad words.

“It’s been a year Iwa-Chan, I miss you more than anything.” Oikawa said softly “I’ve been trying so hard to move on, I try and try and try, and nothing seems to change. The more I try, the more I begin to wonder if there’s any point at all. A life without you just isn’t worth living…”