#huh? My relationship with death and my fear of dying so young?

[spoopieere]

New brainrot dropped guys. Asa being a freak as usual yknow? Dw, Arkin is safe in this one. 😳😳

[florintradat]

So This is Love, Huh?

TW FOR BLOOD, DEATH, DYING!! [nothing in super detail, if I forgot something let me know!!]

Florin knew he was old. He had been around before medieval times and had seen the uprising and crashing of many kingdoms in Europe. 

He was happy though.

He had his parents and that’s all he really needed. He was never faced with the hate and fear that humans held for his kind. Their parents didn’t want him to suffer through that at a young age. They wanted him happy and they did that well. He never complained and he always smiled.

Big and bright.

Until they came.

The Hunters.

The castle once bustled with family and friends until there was no one. The raid was horrible, hunters storming in and his parents, aunts and uncles trying to protect everyone. He was forced into a closet and was forced to hear the sound of his family members being slain, scream after scream. Florin only felt the pain in his heart and the hot tears rolling down his face as he tried to follow what his mother told him. ‘Stay quiet. Don’t let them hear you and don’t come out. No matter what you hear.’ 

After a couple hours it was completely quiet. No more screams. No more footsteps or yelling. So Florin carefully got up and got out of the closet. He walked out into the hallway and numbly looked around. His eyes were dull and lifeless as he looked over the bodies that littered the ground. He walked around until he stopped in front of two bodies. 

His parents. 

Without thinking he took off his mom’s rings, slipping them on. Her necklaces, his dad’s brooch and watch. He put them all on before carefully pulling them along. One by one each person he buried. 

He had to bury his family as a kid and everything hurt and everything felt numb. 

He cleaned up the floors before packing his bag and walking out of the castle. 

Where was he going? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to be away. He will be back…he’s not abandoning his family. Never. He just needs time away.

“I see you gained a new power there?” A soft voice spoke as they laughed, blue eyes looking at the vampire as he floated around.

“I can fly!” He yelled happily as he floated around the human in circles.

“More like…float. Barely-”

“Don’t ruin my fun!” He whines as he pouts at Zoltan, prince Zoltan Csekonics. He was the next in line for the throne in a small Hungarian kingdom. Flo had traveled to Hungary for a change of scenery, to get away from the pains of the past. That’s when he found Zoltan and they instantly clicked. The one problem was…his parents didn’t approve of vampires. Hated them really. But anytime the castle was empty Zoltan brough Florin in and made sure the servants shut their mouths on the man’s presence in the castle.  

Zoltan laughed as he rolled his eyes taking Flo’s hand. “Stop floating around and walk with meee!” He whines back letting out a snort as Flo just huffs and walks alongside him, holding his hand back. 

“Why do I stick around? You’re mean-” They said as they pursued their lips out and looked away. Zol rolled his eyes and turned Flo’s chin to face him before pecking his lips quickly. 

“You know why~” He made kissy sounds while Flo fake gagged at him. “You love me~” 

Oh yeah, they were dating too. 

One night of sneaking out some royal wine, getting drunk and secrets being spilled lead to a, so far, happy relationship.

Zol had learned a lot about Flo’s family that night while Flo learned how deep Zol’s parent’s hate for vampires was. 

They kept walking along the corridors, laughing and smiling until Zolton looked out the window. His heart dropped and skin went paler than it was before. He lightly pushed Flo over. “Go! You have to go! They’re back!” He whispered yelled while Flo’s eyes widened. He gave Zol a quick peck before going invisible and floating out of the window. Zolton quickly fixed his appearance as he kept walking pretending he was heading to wherever they had been walking. 

Later in the same day Zolton had been in his room, writing some letters for Florin with a small lovestruck smile. He hummed softly to himself as the candles glowed, them being his only light source, watching his quill write over the parchment in front of him. He was about to continue his letter, dipping his quill in more ink, before a knock on his door stopped him mid-write. His eyebrows furrowed as he opened the door and looked at a maid. “What is it that you need?” He asked, eyebrows raised as the maid bowed quickly. 

“I’m so sorry young master for the bother. But the King and Queen want you asap in their office.” Zolton looked confused but nodded and got dressed before walking to his parent’s office. He knocked before coming into the room to see his dad sat at the desk and his mother sat in front of it. 

“You wanted to see me?”

“Ah yes! My boy. The person I wanted to see. Sit.” He motioned to the chair next to him as Zolton just nodded slowly before sitting down. His mother didn’t say a word before he looked at his dad for him to continue. “We walked to talk about that…’friend’...of yours.” The way he said friend made Zol’s blood run cold. ‘Did he know? Did he know they’re dating? That he isn’t human?’ He was panicking now as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“W-What about him?” He asked, a shake in his voice, as he cleared his throat lightly. 

“You see…a little bird has told us some interesting information about you two.” The man shuffled through some papers. “That you two have been seen acting in ways friends do not act and that this…man…isn’t human at all…” he ended with looking Zolton in the eyes. The boy’s demeanor had given him away fully. He was extremely pale, sweat on his forehead as he shook. His mother held his hand, fake sympathy in her eyes. 

“Oh honey. It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. Everything will be forgotten but we do want one thing from you.” He looked at the two of them frantically as he had a strange feeling in his stomach. 

“Kill him.” The wind felt like it was knocked out of him as he quickly shook his head, snatching his hand away from his mother. 

“No. Please no.” His father’s jaw clenched as he set the papers down.

“I was fearing you would say that.” He stood up and looked Zolton down with an icy stare. “You will do it or you are no longer a part of this family. You will be taken care of and I will make sure everyone is erased of the memory of you. You never existed.” Zolton’s eyes filled with tears as he choked back a sob. “It’s your choice.” 

With that it was over. 

It had been a couple days since his parents told them his demands and Zolton hadn’t been able to calm down. He lashed out at Flo one day and he stopped coming over for a few days. The human prince was in his fencing room, late at night, sword in hand. He wasn’t allowed typically when others were there but alone in the dead silence of night he didn’t care about the rules. He took his favorite sword and started to let his frustrations out. He was so stuck in his head he hadn’t heard the soft creaking of wood or the person behind him. “Boo~” A soft whisper was heard in his ear. Zolton screamed as he dropped his sword on the ground and turned his hand to his chest. He relaxed when he was met by the laugh he loved so much and always sounded like music to him. 

“I told you to stop doing that!” He smacked Flo’s arm before picking up the sword from the ground. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You were just so into it, I couldn’t help it.” He smiled and Zol wasn’t sure if it was possible to fall more in love with the vampire in front of him. 

The moment was soon ruined when his mind was flooded with his parent’s words. He put his sword back in its seith before smiling sadly at Flo. The vampire’s eyebrows raised at him as his demeanor changed. They lightly cup his face in their cold hands and look him over. “What’s wrong sweetheart?” He asked worry flooding in his eyes. “Is something the matter?” Zol’s eyes fell to the ground as he let out a pained sigh.

“Just…Just the parents.” He muttered as Flo just nodded sadly. They didn’t ask anymore questions as he pulled the prince into his arms. 

“It’s alright my little prince. Things will get better once you take the throne.” He muttered and in that moment Zolton wanted to break down and sob. He wanted to tell them everything he was told but he just couldn’t. His mind clouded in panic as he feared what could happen. He didn’t want to let go of Flo but he also didn’t want to die at the hands of his parents.

So his foggy pained mind could only think of one thing.

Kill two birds with one stone.

As he went to hug Flo back and slowly and quietly pulled the sword with him…and then he blunged it. He made sure the sword impaled both of them. He heard Florin’s pained gasp and small hisses of pain. Tears welled up in the human’s eyes as the pain spread along his body, knowing it was hurting Florin way more since it was silver. Florin’s eyes were blown out as he looked at Zolton. Betrayal written all over his face as his own tears fell, blood pouring from his lips as he gasped holding his open wound. “W-Why?” He croaked out. Zolton sobbed as he let words out.

“They were going to k-kill me if I-I didn’t kill you. I c-couldn’t. N-No.” He wrapped his arms around Flo’s shoulders, the sword pushing further into the human’s body. “I d-didn’t want to let go…”

“So you thought it was a good idea to kill us both?!” Florin shouted, ignoring any pain he had, his blood boiling as he looked at him, his hands shaking as he pushed the arms around him. “You thought this…” He took the handle to the sword and started pulling it out. Zolton gasped as he started coughing up blood. Florin’s nose wrinkled as the smell filled his nose. “You thought this would be better than maybe running away?” He threw the sword down as he coughed up blood, tears running down his face as he looked at the man he thought he loved. “You’re pathetic!” He held his middle as he bled out, watching as Zolton slowly lost the color in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I love you.” He whispered and with that he went limp. 

Florin stared 

Numbly. 

Like he did centuries ago.bin

He took the crown and started limping out of the castle, hand around his middle hoping he would heal soon.

Where to now?

@evicted-oc

[watching-constellations]

This post is a really good reminder for me. I'm scared of big, huge memory loss because I watched my grandmother die of Alzheimer's. It was awful. It took over ten years, and it colored my entire childhood. To this day, I obsess over death, dying, and my mortality, because I know that my end may not come with any grace.

I've also already experienced severe memory loss. I am twenty-three. There is roughly a year of my adult life that I do not remember much of, and another year that's extremely fuzzy. I remember the edges, but I don't have a few months out of the middle at all. To this day, I don't really know what caused it. But, before the memory loss, I was in a healthy relationship (we were moving in together), I had my horse boarded at one specific barn, and I was starting my sophomore year of college. I know some of what happened during this year, but mostly from my camera roll and what I've been told by other people.

When I started remembering things again, I was on the verge of breaking up with my partner with no hope of recovery (I don't know why), my horse was at a completely different barn (I don't know when or how that happened), and I'd written an entire book (I have a memory of sitting down at my computer and typing a line or two— absolutely nothing else. The book is actually pretty good). I have no idea what happened to me during that time. All I know is that when I came to, if you can call it that, I was confused, terrified, and dazed. It felt like I'd been knocked unconscious and dropped off at a bus stop in a city on the other side of the world. My memory didn't start working like it used to for probably another year. Even now, I'm not sure if I'm all the way back to how I used to be. I tell myself that I am because that's easier, but on some days, I can feel that I'm not.

Thinking about returning to that state of total blankness and finding my life in a totally different place than where I left it scares me so much. I think mostly, it's the fact that I lost someone who I loved deeply that disturbs me. We were planning to get married. People still get upset with me nowadays for the things I allegedly did (and cannot remember at all) during this period of my life. Now, sometimes I isolate because it's hard for me to get close to people and learn new things, because I always carry this ice cold terror that it's going to go away, and there will be nothing I can do about it. Sometimes I do the opposite, and I live so fast and feverishly that I drive myself to illness and injury because I'm worried it'll all slip away from me in a blink. I fear that my memory loss makes me bad or crazy, and that nobody will stick with me through it if it happens again. It feels like a personal failing or irreparable and unforgivable problem because I'm so young. I don't trust anyone to be with me if I forget everything, and I don't trust myself to behave the way I want to if I'm not all the way here.

But hey, memory loss isn't actually the end, is it? I'm still here, and you're still here. I still have a lot of living left to do. There doesn't need to be a huge, terrible stigma around memory loss. I actually do still deserve to live a full life, huh? And maybe it's really not my fault that this has happened to me, and probably will again someday. Maybe I couldn't help it. Maybe everything is fine. So anyway, thank you for this. It's a good one.

Also, wow. I just realized how hard on myself I've been lately, because I'm already twenty-three, and I should be doing more, and... I'm missing a solid 1-2 years of my adult life. Apparently I need to give myself a little credit.

seeing people my age talk about how scared they are of memory loss, which they only associate with old age, is so surreal to see as a 24 year old who has actively experienced memory loss for a long time now

there are causes for memory loss besides dementia and alzheimer’s, i hope y’all know that. dissociative disorders, trauma, brain injuries, thyroid problems, even just stress and lack of sleep can fuck up your ability to store, process, and access memory. and that’s just a few of the many causes i can think of off the top of my head right now.

please stop treating disabled people like some scary “other” that you might become only in the distant, decades-away future. we are your age, too. you may become one of us sooner than you know. stop acting like memory loss marks the end of a life, when so many of us have so much living left to do!

[blzzrdstryr]

Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

[theglitterypages]

25 and 54 for levi ackerman plzzzz?! ❤❤

Based on Prompt 25 and 54: ( 25. “I’ve never met someone like you.” “Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?” )

(54. “Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched my head. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.”)

Prompts list

Requested by optamisticsmiles and @geese-goose18

Title: His Worst Nightmare

Pairings: Levi x fem! reader

Summary: You're one of the most skilled Captain of Survey Corps but during one of the expeditipn outside the walls some of your Squad's horses were killed. As a captain you wanted to save them, you knew you can survive outside the walls but your squad may not be able to because all of them are tired so you chose to be left outside the walls and you fend for yourself.

Warnings: None might appear to be a little sad though.

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Captain! Most of our horses were crushed by the Titans, we won't be able to meet with Commander Erwin and Captain Levi!”

Your grip on your weapon tightened as you saw the terrified look on your comrades' faces, most of them were young yet skilled but you knew this kind of scenario would really shake them up because this is dead end.

“Take the remaining horses and meet with Commander Erwin!” you shouted as you use your gear so you could slice the Titan's nape. “What the fuck are y'all looking at?! Go before the remaining horses get killed!” four of your subordinates looked at you with tears in their eyes, “We can't leave you here, Captain!” you cussed underneath your breath and swung towards an abnormal titan aimimg for the horses.

“We'll all die if you won't follow my orders. This is not a request, it is an order from your Captain, leave! Now!” You growled as you viciously charged yourself towards the Titan to kill it.

When it fell on the ground, lifeless, you immediately looked behind and a small smile made its way across your lips upon seeing your subordinates ride the remaining horses to save themselves.

You tore your eyes away from them and looked at five Titans charging themselves towards you, you only have one blade left and to say that you're exhausted is understatement, you knew that this is the day where you'll die and you'll embrace your death proudly and wholeheartedly.

Dying to save your young comrades would be the most glorious part of your career as a captain, your young comrades has so much to learn, they still have a lot to know but you've already done your part if you will die in here today your only regrets would be the fact that you can't see Levi in your last breath.

But you heard from your father who's a doctor that once a person dies, they will have flashbacks of their whole life, looking at the brighter side you'd probably see Levi on those flashbacks before you die.

“Let's finish this motherfuckers.”

°°°°°

Levi was obviously anxious as he kept on looking behind him, your squad should be here by this time, you should be tailing them now already but he still can't see you not even a sign of any of your squads.

“Levi, we should go faster.”

“She's still out there, if you want to you can go but I'll wait for her...” he whispered in his shaky voice, before it was so damn easy for him to go on because he had accepted the fact that not everyone could go back alive and he has mastered of masking his grief whenever another comrade has fallen.

But if he's gonna lose you the way he lost his comrades, he would lose his sanity, he would probably go mad once that happens.

“Squads of Captain YN approaching!”

Hope bloomed in Levi's heart as he heard the announcement of your squad's arrival but when he looked back there are only two horses with four people and you're not one of them.

He felt like his heart stopped beating when he tried looking back further but still no sign of you, he decided to shout at your subordinates. “Where is your captain?” he asked in a firm tone and none of them answered.

The teens just looked down and one by one, they broke down into tears. “We're very sorry Captain Levi.” Erwin overheard the conversation and he felt himself go numb. He doesn't want to believe it, he's not losing one of his greatest Captain, not today...

“Can you please stop fucking crying and answer me! Where the fuck is my girl?!”

“She ordered us to leave her, she faced the Titans alone, we're sorry...”

Levi immediately pulled the reins backward, halting the horse from running. “I'm going back for her.” Erwin also halted and looked at Levi as he shook his head.

“By the walls, Levi! We can't afford to lose two of our greatest Captains today. We have to move forward.”

“I'm sorry Erwin. She's the only one that I've got, losing her means I'm nothing.”

“Levi!” Erwin called out but Levi still chose to go back to the forest where you should have been.

As he get closer to the forest his heart beats faster and faster at every moment, his determination of finding you kept him going, he would never leave you, not when you're the only one that he has.

On his way towards the heart of the forest he encountered three Titans and he chose to let out his frustration in killing those three viciously.

When he arrived at the heart of the forest, he immediately looked around, there were no bloods but there's still some remaining of the titans that hasn't evaporated yet.

Which only means one thing;

You're alive.

“Brat!” he exclaimed as he saw your figure laying down on a big branch of tree while you hold your weapons close to you, eyes half closed as you breathe heavily.

You could hear his shouts, he's telling you not to go to sleep but as much as you want to do it your eyelids felt heavy, you can feel him gently slapping your cheeks in attempting of waking you but it obviously doesn't work.

“You can't close your eyes, no. Please baby, don't. We made a promise didn't we? You need to stay with me, you promised to stay with me.”

Levi kept you close in his chest as he rides his horse, he silently prayed that there would be no more titans to appear because dealing with them wouldn't be his priority, he has to make sure you'll get back safe, your head was wounded and he's not sure of how serious the injury was so he did what he could and used his shirt as a bandage to stop the bleeding.

“Lev..”

“Just hang in there, don't sleep. I'll tell you stories so don't close your eyes and hold onto me tightly huh? Can you do that for me baby?” he begged tears streaming down his cheeks, the way you called out his name sounded so weak and every time that he'll look at you, he could see your eyes closed and fear filled his heart, something he has never felt years before meeting you.

After his friends died, he made himself tough, promised not to get attached again so he wouldn't have to lose his mind over and over again whenever he lose a comrade but you came along, he wanted to blame Erwin and Hanji for introducing you to him but he actually would thank them, because he never felt this way before.

The way you made him feel at ease, every time you'll hug him he feels contented and peaceful and whenever he feels your lips on his it is his paradise and his days without you in his side is hell.

So he couldn't afford to lose you now, not today not forever.

“I—I love you, Levi. Take care of yourself for me hmm? I'm sorry if I—”

“I'm not listening so whatever you want to say, say it to me when we get back inside the walls.”

Of course, he can hear you clearly but he's not strong enough to hear you say those words he doesn't want to hear you saying that you love him as if you're saying goodbye and that's not what he wants.

“Lev, I'm tired.”

“Baby just hold on, don't leave me please. I'm begging you.”

As he bursted into tears, his mind was filled with memories of you and him together.

Flashback

“Once we eliminated all of the titans, I would open a book shop and I will read for the rest of my life.”

“Where am I in your plans, brat?” he asked his arms wrapped around you as you rested your head in his hard chest. “You would be spending your days sitting beside me while I read.” you playfully said, pressing your lips in his jaw.

Levi looked down at you with a smirk, “That's not so bad but we should open a teashop with a bookshop inside it so people can read and drink tea.” you chuckled. His love for tea is really strong and to be honest there are four of you in this relationship.

Tea, Books, you and Levi.

Well at least there's no other girls, there's just tea and his cleaning obsession, “We'll do that and I'll tell Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Connie and Sasha to stay with us. I will be making apple pies and they would love it.” you've grown fond of the teens from the 104th, probably because you've seen how they've grown, how the playful teenagers became brave soldiers ready to fight for the humanity.

And you really want this nightmare to end so those kids would have the normal life, “I didn't know we're also planning to open an orphanage now.” he said, sarcasm perfectly implied.

“Quit talking as if you don't like them.”

“If you want children we can make a lot.” he playfully dipped his head down to press his lips on yours and you hold onto his hair as you returned his kisses, when he pulled away, his grey eyes were sparkling as a small smile made its way across his lips.

“God, I’ve never met someone like you.”

“Because everyone in this world is different and there isn’t another face like mine? Duh?”

Levi stared at you, left dumbfounded of how you sassily replied to his heartwarming statement, “You're picking up my attitude, it's alarming.” he sighed pinching your nose as you slapped his hand away.

“Your fault not mine.” You glared with a pout.

End of Flashback

“You can't sleep because our brats are waiting, Mikasa, Armin, Eren, Jean, Sasha and Connie is waiting for us to be back. We'll still eliminate the titans right? We have so much plans baby, don't leave me please.”

“I'm sorry Levi.”

°°°°°°

“Captain...” Levi lazily looked back at him just to see Armin standing awkwardly as he rubbed his nape, “You should eat and go get some sleep.” Armin told him politely, the blond teen doesn't want to make the Captain mad especially he knows what Levi is going through.

“No. Leave my office now.”

“Captain, we know that it's not easy but you can't sacrifice your health.” Eren appeared bebind Armin and soon after, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie and Jean appeared, each one of them carrying different kind of food but Sasha is holding a container of water because the others forbid him in bringing the food, knowing that she might get tempted to eat it.

“Leave me alone and let me work in my office quietly loud brats. None of you knows what I feel.”

“We do. You're not the only one who's sad, we missed Captain YN too but this is beyond our control. The least we can do is to take care of you because we know that she wouldn't want you to be like this.” Mikasa said, her voice devoid of any emotions as she walked towards the Captain as she placed down a tray of food on top of his table.

“We believe that you're old enough to eat by yourself and we wouldn't have to shove that spoon on your mouth just so you could eat.” Mikasa looked at the Captain blankly and when Levi looked up at her, he narrowed his eyes.

“It's really scary how you sounded like me some times, fine, I'll eat so you brats would shut up.”

The teens' faces lit up as they watch Levi eat, he still doesn't look like his usual self because of what happened but they're all not fine but they also knew that they will be.

“Levi! Captain YN is awake.” Hanji said in between hear breaths, Levi didn't respond and left his unfinished food while the teens followed him, running so they could match his pace.

Levi opened the door of the room and he saw you sitting on the bed, the bandage was still on your head, there was a clueless look on your face when your gaze landed at him and Levi immediately ran to hug you tightly.

You let out a sound of surprise and Levi pulled away thinking that he hurt you. “I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened to us? Do you want some water?” you smiled and shook your head, your gaze landed at the flower vase beside your table and Levi saw how your eyes sparkled when you saw the white Carnation.

“I recognize this flower...” you whispered in a soft voice, you reached out for the flower vase before glancing at the man next to you.

“But I don't know you. Who are you?”

The moment you said that, the teens arrived and they heard everything you said. You heard their gasps and you innocently looked up at them, “Hello kiddos, the nurse told me that I've been out for two weeks. I think I missed something, this man suddenly came in here to hug me.” Armin felt cold sweats on his forehead, he doesn't have any idea how to handle this situation especially they saw how heartbroken Levi is.

“Captain, he's your—” before Jean could even finish his sentence, Levi already cut him off, “Leave, brats. Let me talk to her alone.” you frowned at him before glancing at the kids, “Sir, you're not even suppose to be here. Why are you asking them to leave? I know them.” Eren didn't have to hear Levi's reply to you, he just dragged his friends away from that room, scared of what would happen next.

The room was filled with deafening silence after the teens left, Levi was looking down as his breathing got heavier at every minute that passes by while you were still sat on the bed still looking at him cluelessly.

“You don't have to remember me, just let me take care of you, this is better than losing you completely.” he whispered as he took the flower vase from you, placing it back to where it was. “Do you remember anything aside from the kids? Like how you got injured?” he spoke in a calmest way he could even if he's damn broken inside, the first thing he had imagine once you wake up is you hugging him, telling him that you're not leaving him just like what you've promised but here he is sitting on a chair beside your bed while you don't remember him.

When he didn't get any response from you he decided to stand up as his grey eyes got dulled again, it lost the sparks it has earlier.

“You're probably uncomfortable of having a stranger here. I'll go get the nurse.” he turned his back on you to leave but he heard your voice.

“Levi Ackerman, you'll just leave your girlfriend like this then?”

It only took him three seconds to return to where he was, his arms immediately wrapped around yours as he sobbed on the crook of your neck. “I was at the end of my wits, the whole world can forget about me but not you. Don't pull that shit again.” he scolded, you wanted to chuckle or laugh but you couldn't because you heard his sobs, he's like a child as he hug you tightly as if scared that you'll suddenly disappear.

You slowly pushed him away and wiped away his tears as you comb his hair, brushing off some strands of his hair that's hiding his eyes from you. “Sorry, it was a joke and it's obviously not funny.” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes before a low chuckle escaped from his lips, “I can't believe you even picked up my terrible sense of humour.” he whispered weakly as he pulled you close for another hug. For two hellish weeks he drowned himself in paperworks and in between those times he'll be looking after you while you sleep and it drained him a lot.

“You lost weight.” you stated. You memorized every inch of Levi's body and 2 weeks of being unconscious wouldn't change that fact, you knew that he lost weight, those dark circles around his eyes also suggests the fact that he didn't have lots of sleep.

“You scared me.”

“Where was the guy who told me once that he has nothing to be afraid of 'cause he got nothing to lose?” you brows raised and Levi rolled his eyes before leaning in to kiss you quickly.

“Brat, I have nothing to lose.” He touched your head, his grey eyes looking down on yours as a genuine smile made its way across his lips. “Or at least once had nothing to lose.” he whispered before cupping your face for another kiss, much longer than the first ones, it was also slower as if he's still trying to make sure that everything is real, he's still trying to make sure that his worst nighmare wouldn't happen.

His nightmare where he lost you.

[itsthestutterforme]

The Real Ending (Jang Hanseo)

Summary: Hanseo sends Y/N away so she is safe from Hanseok's antics. Soon after, Vincenzo helps fake his death so they both could be free.

Characters: Cha young x reader (platonic), Vincenzo x reader (platonic), Jang Hanseo x reader (romantic), Jang Hanseok x reader (abusive relationship)

--

Waiting for Hanseo to get home, you turn on the light in the bathroom and purposely avoid the mirror. From the way your entire head is pounding, you could tell that Hanseok did a number on your face.

You knew it was bad, you didn't bother wanting to look. Soft sobs erupted from your chest and you sat on the floor to hug your knees to your chest. Hearing the door open, you croak, "Hanseo." He yells out in surprise before following your voice to the bathroom.

"You scared the hell out of- oh my God," he says when he sees my face. "Y/N, "I'm going to kill him," Hanseo says, ghosting a finger over your swollen cheek from Hanseok hitting you. "What was his excuse this time?"

"He had a bad day at work," you say with a shrug. His jaw clenches with anger and you add, "Am I hard to love?" "What would make you say something like that?" He says, sitting down next to you.

"Every relationship that I've ever had, romantic or not, were abusive one way or another. It makes me wonder if I deserve it." You explain as more tears escape your eyes.

"Honestly, that thought crossed my mind once or twice about myself. The only one that treats me good is you and you're just as broken as I am." He states with a sigh. You lean on your side and wrap your arms around him.

He holds the back of your head and wraps an arm around your waist. "I ordered you a plane ticket," "What?" You say, pulling away from him. "No, I'm not leaving you here. He'll kill you if he found out you helped me leave."

He silences you by cupping the sides of your face and gently touching your cheeks with his thumbs. Holding on to his wrists, you add, "You can't die. Not for me." "You're worth dying for," he says to you. You shake your head and tried to pull away from him, but he didn't budge.

That's when you knew he was serious. "I'm not leaving you." You state. "How many of these can you endure Y/N? It's getting worse. He's spiralling because of Vincenzo. He will kill you." "Then at least i don't have to suffer anymore." His grip on your face softens and you stand up from the floor to leave.

"Just think about it, please." He calls after you. You stop for a moment and look over your shoulder at him. You didn't say a word before leaving the house.

Slowly opening the door to Jang Hanseok's apartment, you heard his laughter in the other room. He must be on the phone with Ms. Choi again.

You walk upstairs and strip off your clothes to take your shower, careful not to apply pressure to your bruises along your chest cavity. You jump when you hear him say, "Where have you been?" "I.. went for a walk," you say softly, avoiding eye contact with him.

He hisses when his eyes scan the bruises he made on you. "I should be taking it easy on you. I'm sorry, honey, you don't deserve this." He says, nearing. He walks you against the sink and you place your hands on his chest to push him away.

"Look at me," he whispers and you slowly met his gaze. You really did love him, once... You met him and Hanseo in junior high and Hanseok wasn't a bad kid. It wasn't until he went to college in the States that he came back controlling and manipulative.

It wasn't long after that he started hitting you. You were aware that you were crying until he brushes away your tears with his thumb. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

**

You woke up earlier than Hanseok and you were very careful not to wake him. He is not a morning person at all. He spent the night kissing you and giving you massages.

You guys watched your favorite movies and eat your favorite food. Something he does every so often when he thinks you're distancing yourself from him.

You went downstairs to get something to drink when you heard heavy footsteps beside you. A hand clamped over your mouth before you could yell out and a there was a sharp pinch on the side of you neck.

Jolting yourself awake, you immediately look around the room to see a foreign environment. Your neck throbs and you gently touch the injection area to find a small, sensitive bump. Where the hell are you?

You slowly get out of bed and advance towards the door. Swinging it open, unsure of what you would find, you walk down the hallway that led to an empty living room. There was a note on the table that read, "This was the only way. I'm sorry. -Jang Hanseo."

"No," you say, sitting on the couch with your face in your hands.

Turns out, Hanseo sent you to Ireland. You haven't been in contact with him since because he didn't want Hanseok to trace you and find you. You both hated and loved Hanseo for risking his life to save you.

Within the first few weeks, you were comfortable enough to go outside and roam the city. You've always been vigilant, borderline paranoid of disappointing Hanseok and suffering the consequences.

It wasn't until you got the call from Vincenzo that your good luck ended. "He's dead, Y/N. He killed him." The words sliced through your heart like butter. "I'm getting the first plane ticket there."

"No, that is not what he would have wanted." "You wouldn't know what he would have wanted!" You snap, instantly regretting it.

"I have to see him. We haven't spoken since he sent me here." "I'll pick you up when you arrive." You spent the entire plane ride looking out the window, daydreaming of what your life could have been if you were with Hanseo.

You imagine late night walks and coffee dates, beach days and sporadic spicy foods nights you would have been happy. The potential you guys had made your heart warm. You just hated how you never gave it a chance all because of the fear of what Hanseok would do to you both.

You approach Vincenzo and he walks you to his car. Tossing your bag in the back seat, you freeze when see Hanseo's jacket. You take it in your hands and ask, "What is this doing here?" "He left it at my apartment. I brought it here to bring it back to him, but.." he trails off and you nod.

You bring it with you in the front seat and lay it across your lap. "He loved you more than you could imagine. He was determined to get you out." "I.. I really wanted him to come with me." He takes your hand into his, which surprised you because neither of you were the affectionate type.

But it was nice to be consoled for once. He pulled up to the hospital and you follow him down the halls to the morgue. Two morticians were in the room, one had a chart and the other pulled out a slate with Hanseo's body on it.

It took you a while for your mind to process what you were seeing. A man you loved was lifeless on a slab. But when it finally set in, your blood ran cold in your veins. With his jacket still in your hands, you reach out and wince when your hand comes into contact with his cold forehead.

"How.. was he in pain when he died?" You asked Vincenzo. A sob left your mouth when he chose not to answer. That was all the answer you needed. You fell to the ground and Vincenzo followed you. "He was suppose to come with me," you croak.

"I know," he says, holding you softly. "Why couldn't it have been me?" You bury your face into Vincenzo's chest, and from that day forward, you were a mess. You've always been on the brink of depression but this has sent you over the edge.

The only reason why you even got up this morning was because Hanseo's lawyer told Vincenzo that he needed to meet with you discussing his will. He left you everything. His pent houses, his villas and all of his bank accounts.

A hand gently touched you shoulder, taking you out of your trace. "Huh?" You turn to see it was Cha young. "How are you holding up?" She asks. "He left me everything," "Like everything," "Everything," you say with a nod. "But it doesn't feel right," you add.

"He would want you to be happy, no matter what form that takes." Vincenzo says. "I told you she would come back," a familiar voice says, making you freeze. You spin around to see Hanseo standing next to Vincenzo right before your eyes.

"What the.. how is this possible?" "He's in the Mafia, Y/N, what can't he do?" You jump up from the chair and rush into his arms, nearly knocking him over. "I'm sorry, but that was the only way we cou-" Hanseo tries to explain.

"Shh, stop talking." You interrupted as you tightened his grip on him, not caring if you heard a faint crank.

**

Third Person POV

Cha young approaches Mr. Nam when she notices him smiling down at something in his hands. "What is it?" She asks. Mr. Nam shows her the invitation that read: You've been invited to the wedding of Jang Hanseo and Y/L/N Y/F/N taking place on June 14, 2021 at the Gracehall, Craigavon, United Kingdom."

[dapandapod]

Hehe I'm gonna spam you

33 with lambden? 🥺 Lambert being hugged for the first time ever, or the first time in a very long while (since he last saw Aiden)

33. the hug from that one person who is allowed to hug you

Feel free my sweet! This accidently got a bit sad, with all the canon pains I could fit into it, but not as sad as it could have gotten. But there be hug!! And thank you @kuripon for doing a beta read for me, you are the best! Enjoy <3

Warnings: Canon typical violence and swearing, implied loss of Aiden but not to worry, no permanent harm will come to my boy. Take care!

Send me a hug prompt! On Ao3! Hug collection here

Lambert doesn’t have a good relationship with skin to skin contact. One way or another, it has always connected to pain.

Be it in a past life, where his father took out his rage and disappointment in the world on those he was supposed to love the most.

Be it the place that didn’t let him protect his family and put him through torture he barely survived.

Be it by the hand of a lover, who would accept coin to carve another mark into his skin.

There is no logical reason to let anybody close enough, not for a quick fuck or even a brotherly clasp of arms. There is nothing to gain from another body against his, except for the most temporary of sensations.

Lambert always took pride in his honesty. He doesn’t fear voicing his thoughts, the feelings he is told he doesn’t have. There is no point in softening his words. The one thing that Lambert appreciates most from others is their respect and their truth.

Many people don’t like Lambert. Too many sharp edges and blunt words. But someone he could never get rid of was Aiden. He is a Cat witcher, and there are enough jokes about cats and dogs to understand where this is going.

Aiden isn’t scared off. Aiden doesn’t leave. Aiden doesn’t take it personally when Lambert is fed up with all the bullshit around him.

It is… odd, and strangely comforting. The one person that can match him step for bloody step, the one man who can turn a prank into a crime.

Lambert isn’t shy with admitting his thoughts. Maybe he doesn’t tell Aiden to his face that he is the best man he has ever met, but it’s a near thing.

But not as near as Aiden keeps standing, sitting, sleeping next to him. Young witchers could fall asleep mid wrestle and still not be as close as Aiden is at all times.

At first, Lambert loathes it. Skin on skin contact, then you have let them too close, and by then, you are already dead. A hand on the back of his neck, by his elbow. Shoulder bumps, knees pressing together, clapping on the back.. it never ends.

They spend a lot of time together, however, and Lambert more or less gets used to it. He allows it, sometimes even initiating the touch.

But winter comes and Aiden is called away. It is too late in the year to make it to Kaer Morhen, so he is stuck. He finds a town big enough to flit between taverns and inns without raising too much suspicion, but he hates it.

Some people fancy a taste of danger and more than once, Lambert has to fend off people approaching him for a quick roll in the hay.

This is when he realizes he has changed. Their hands stray, yes, more than he has ever allowed hands to stray without a reason before. But it doesn’t feel right, and he doesn’t want them in his bed, or himself in theirs.

Come spring, Aiden’s hand on his shoulder is a relief, his shoulder against his back as he laughs too loudly.

Come spring, Lambert learns a new way to show affection. The word in itself makes him shiver in distaste, but he can’t find any other word that fits well enough.

Come spring, Lambert is crawling out from some mines infested with Endrega warriors with a big gash in his leg. When he wobbles, he thinks Aiden means to catch him, but instead of steadying him and then letting go, Aiden steps into his space.

He is too tired to protest, the toxins clouding his mind and adrenaline making his hands shake. Aiden drops his sword and then guides Lambert's head to lay on his shoulder. Gently, he pries Lambert’s own sword out of his white knuckled grip, and he arranges them around his own hips.

Aiden puts his arms around Lambert's shoulders and back, pulling him close to take most of his weight.

“Neat, huh?” Aiden says, voice low and calm. “A trick I learned from a prostitute in Vizima a few years back. She called it an embrace.”

“I know what a hug is, Aiden,” Lambert snarks, heart doing all kinds of acrobatics in his chest. He can’t decide if it’s all the potions, Aiden's proximity or if he is just dying, but something is up.

“Have you ever had one?” Aiden asks knowingly, and that shuts Lambert up. “I find it calms you down a bit after you get used to it.”

“Hmm.” Oh no, he sounds like Geralt. “Fuck.” Better.

“I know, right? I didn’t trust her at all, and rightly so it would turn out, as she sent the witch hunters on me after I paid, but that embrace really did wonders for my blood pressure.”

“You have perfect control of your blood pressure.”

“Exactly.”

Eventually, they have to let go. There are unnerving sounds of movement still in the mines, so Lambert decides to drop a bomb on their asses, and hopefully close the entrance well behind them.

After that they have to go collect payment, find a room, or at least a place to camp for the night. The innkeeper claps his hand on Lambert's shoulder, and it is not only because of the bruise that he makes a face and pulls away.

They do manage to get a room, just the one, but with two beds at least, not the kind they have to share with four others.

With no more potions clouding his mind, and no more enrega warriors crawling about, Lambert sits on the edge of his bed, fiddling with one of his daggers. He feels restless, even a little nervous, and he can’t stop thinking how for the first time ever, being close to someone made him feel safe.

“Hey, Aiden?”

Aiden turns around, his face cleaner now but his hair still standing in every direction. When their eyes meet and Aiden smiles, Lambert knows he is fucked.

“Yes, Lambchops?”

“Could you show me that hug-thing again?”

Aiden’s smile widens, but he doesn’t tease, doesn’t say anything, just stands in the middle of the room, arms open and leaves it to Lambert to come to him.

So he does. Lambert uses the exact same pose as hours before, letting his head drop to Aiden’s shoulder again.

They stand in silence for a long time, and Lambert’s body starts to settle. He realizes he wouldn’t let anyone this close. There are people he trusts with his life that he wouldn’t let hold him like this.

Just like everything else with Aiden, the Cat witcher has to push it. The hands on Lambert's back and shoulders start to move. Small circles, little squeezes. It feels nice.

“You know, this works lying down too. We can sleep like this,” Aiden offers.

“Flirt,” Lambert mutters, but doesn’t let go.

It is hard for Lambert to disassociate skin to skin contact with pain. If a witcher lets his guard down too much, that witcher will be no more.

Hugs, or as Aiden insists on calling them, embraces, are rare, often after a rough contract or a near death experience.

The worst part is not having to endure the pain to get that one rare treat.

The worst part is losing it.

The first time Lambert ever initiates a hug is when he finds Aiden again, after many long, cold, and lonely years. He is a different person, a little broken and rough around the edges.

Lambert has never loved him more.

[dasaniperson]

So I had this idea where Scout actually knows Spy is his father during that infamous death scene. Then I wrote a short five about it

———————————————————————

Scout knew he was dying. The pain from his wound was numb by now, but the puddle of blood below him kept growing and he was just so tired.

It was a lot different than he expected, actually. He thought dying would be confusing and fast, like a dream, but instead he was calm. It wasn’t the happy kind of calm, nor the sad kind. It was just… blank. Everything was so perfectly quiet.

His perfect silence was interrupted by the sound of dress shoes clacking, another set of footsteps, this time without any shoes, and a voice.

“— own by monk tailors since the seventh century.” It was Spy talking. He kind of hoped that he’d just pass by him. “ I will let you use it as an adult diaper when you pry it off my cold,” He could see the edge of Spy's shoulder coming around the corner. “dead,” he was all the way around the corner, but faced back towards whoever was with him. “body.” The last word was cut short as Spy saw him. Sniper peaked around the corner and his face fell. Spy just kind of looked… surprised.

“Mate.” Sniper said to Spy. Spy sighed and put his face in his hand, looking exasperated. It didn’t surprise him. Spy barely seemed to respect him as a person, much less someone to grieve. Spy should feel something though, at least as a father. “Yes. I know.” There’s no sympathy in his tone, it’s the same voice he uses during work. “Give us a moment.” Is he really going to die with Spy? Maybe he should be happy to die with his father, most people would take this as a last minute blessing from the heavens. Then again, he hasn’t believed in god since he got his dog tags.

Spy makes his way over to him and crouches down. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other clutching a wood plank. Upon closer inspection his knee has a splash of blood on it. “Scout. There’s something I need to tell you.” Is he finally going to confess to being his father? Scout’s known for a good four years now, and he got over it all quickly enough, it’s not like Spy ever tried to make anything of their relationship. Still, Scout can’t help but be curious as to why or how any of it happened. His eyes flick away from him. “I…” Spy has a chance right now to begin to redeem himself in Scout’s eyes.

“I’ll be right back.”

For a second Scout can’t believe it. But then he’s blazing with anger. Of course. Of course Spy would leave him to die. Of course Spy wouldn’t take the last opportunity he’ll ever have to make up with his son. Of course. It’s Spy after all. Why is he so mad? He knew it would end like this.

Maybe he’s mad because Spy gave him hope then ripped it away immediately. Or maybe it’s because Spy disappointed him again, but no, it’s not any of those. It’s because he expected it. He expected Spy to leave him. He knew Spy wouldn’t even try to look sad for his sake. His anger gives way to sadness. Then Tom Jones comes around the corner.

At first Scout thinks it’s his brain playing tricks on him. There’s no way Tom Jones is here of all places. He looked too perfect to be here, exactly how Scout imagined him, except this Tom Jones has a wooden board tucked under his arm. Just like Spy, minus the pink coloration and giant letters on it. Ah. That should probably have been obvious from the beginning. Spy walks over.

“What’s new, pussycat?” Scout almost wants to laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, but he can’t find the strength. Why is Spy disguising himself as Tom Jones of all people? Sure scout looks up to him and all, but only as a musician, never on a personal level. If Spy thinks that this is what would make Scout happy, then he really is blind.

He crouches down again. “Scout… do you know my hit song, Sex Bomb?” What is Spy saying? Bringing up Sex Bomb right now? Nevertheless, Scout nods slightly, going along with whatever Spy is leading up to. “Scout, twenty seven years ago I dropped a ‘Sex Bomb’ on your mother.” So Spy’s really going there, huh? “I was young then, and I ran from the explosion.” That’s his excuse then. He was young. Maybe Scout can understand that. But he never came back. Even when he met Spy again when he was hired at only seventeen, Spy still didn’t even try. “But now the fallout of that Sex Bomb has caught up with me.” Is that all he is to Spy? An accident caused by his own foolishness? “This is where the analogy starts to break down, so if it’s alright with you I’ll retire the Sex Bomb metaphor now.”

But then he sees it. And maybe it’s just because Tom Jones’s face is infinitely more expressive than Spy’s, but he looks… sad. He’s got this downtrodden look to him. Spy reaches a hand forward and onto Scout’s shoulder “You’re stronger than you’ll ever know, Jeremy.”

Jeremy. Spy used his real name. Jeremy had actually thought he didn’t know it for a while. Then Spy’s words sink in. Did Spy really think Jeremy was strong? He’d never even hinted at so much as liking Jeremy. As likely as it was that Spy was lying, Jeremy couldn’t quite find it in himself to think that.

“I’m proud of you.” Proud? He didn’t know what Spy had to be proud of. “I’ve always been proud of you.” Always? Why had he never shown it then? “Son.”

Son? He had given up that chance a long time ago, when he abandoned him. When he never told him that he was his dad. When he put on that godforsaken Tom Jones disguise. He couldn’t come back and take the title of father at the last second, and to be honest? Scout hadn’t needed a father in years. Spy had made the choice not to raise him when he had the chance, and now Jeremy’s twenty seven, he’s an adult. An adult that grew up a long time ago, nothing’s going to change that now.

So as he looks up at Tom Jones’s eyes he actually wishes that they were Spy's for once. At least then he could have proven to Jeremy that he wasn’t a complete wimp.

Jeremy knows he has to say something, he won’t let Spy live with the fact that he hid behind a mask during his child’s final moments. Jeremy sighs, and he knows that it’s his final breath. And he utters one word

“Coward”

And then he was gone.

————

“Hey Henry?” He looked up at his oldest brother. “Yeah?” Henry looked down at him, smiling. “How’re you always so brave?” It was true. Henry never seemed to fear anything. He would face kids twice his size without hesitation if they were doing something mean. “It ain’t bravery kid, it’s just that I gotta do something when I see bad stuff goin’ on” That didn’t make any sense. How could Henry not be brave? “I don’t understand” Henry had told him to ask when he didn’t get what he was saying. “Well kid, if there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it, and you can’t do that by doing nothing,” Jeremy supposed that made sense, but Henry was still brave, no matter what he said.

“If there’s something you don’t like, you gotta change it,”

And then he was back.

————

He was back in that blood spattered hallway, surrounded by broken to bits robots. And holy fuck ow his wound was definitely still there and so were Spy and Sniper, who was naked for some reason. They were both walking away, unaware that he was alive. He tried to call out, but all that came out was a weak cough. Sniper turned around first “Well, I’ll be…” then Spy turned around. He said nothing but pure relief on his face. Maybe he did care. Spy hobbled over to him and lifted him up off the floor. Holding one of Scout’s arms over his shoulder for support. He nodded slightly to Sniper, who turned around and headed back down the way they had been going. “So, you figured it out.” Spy spoke suddenly, obviously referring to his fatherhood “Yeah,” he didn’t really have the energy to give a long winded response. “When did you figure it out?” “Four years ago.” He answers honestly. It may have been easier to lie and say it was only at the very end when he figured out. It may have saved them all a lot of explaining “and you never told me you knew?” It was a fair inquiry, but Scout didn’t have any one solid answer to that, “never came up.” Spy rolls his eyes at the lackluster answer. “We’re going to be talking about this later.” He had known that was going to happen. Neither of them were in any state to have a heart to heart conversation about feelings right now. Scout hummed slightly in agreement.

Scout was still mad at Spy, but when someone holds you as you die, you tend to feel a bit more understanding towards them. He was going to let this play out. He doubted they would ever truly become father and son this far along in a not so friendly relationship, but he was willing to give Spy a chance to at least be a decent friend.

[cowardnthief]

Alright, I am curious. Why is Jonny Cade queercoded and what queer subtext was there in their relationship with Ponyboys? 👀

TW: mentions of abuse, violence, death, murder

also spoilers for the outsiders!! (i mean it is a 60 year old book, but still)

-------

OOH OKAY OKAY

(In all honesty, I could probably do a whole essay on this, but I'll keep it brief-ish.)

Bit of background on The Outsiders: It's a book written in the early 60s that focuses on the class divide between the rich Socs (Socials) and the working-class greasers (like, "hoods", criminals), or rather the people within each of those groups who don't feel like they fit into the binary.

Ponyboy is the protagonist of the novel. He and Johnny are both greasers and part of a gang with a few others, including Ponyboy's two older brothers and three other boys.

Let's start with Johnny. Johnny is extremely queer-coded in his own right. He's described early on as timid, shy, weak and maybe a little feminine. He's seen as the gang's "pet" and the youngest, despite being sixteen to Ponyboy's fourteen. His friends are very fond and protective of him. A lot of this behaviour comes from his trauma, being abused by his parents as well as beaten nearly to death by a Soc named Bob. However, it also falls into an archetype of stereotypical queer characters. Writing male characters in this way is a way of subtly telling an audience that they are queer. This probably wasn't done intentionally, but should be kept in mind.

Johnny's character development involves him becoming more masculine, almost. The final important act he does in the book is save children from a burning building. Ponyboy comments on the fact that he seemed braver, louder etc in that moment, all traits associated with masculinity, which is 1) a strange reaction to the situation, especially for Johnny, and 2) exactly the kind of narrative standpoint one would take to show that femininity (or queerness) is bad.

Now for Ponyboy - his queer-coding is more subtle at times, and a little different. He isn't timid or shy or scared or feminine like Johnny. (However, he does once say that he "didn't care too much for girls yet", but that his brother said he would grow out of it. This is particularly strange, considering he is fourteen already.) Early on, it's established that he feels like an outsider within his own group. He doesn't really feel like a greaser, or act like one. He likes things that greasers don't like. He watches movies, he reads, he likes to see the sunset. He considers himself different, or "other", and he feels as if he can't talk about it. His friends just wouldn't get it.

A large part of the book, in my opinion, is Ponyboy finding other "outsiders", like Cherry and Johnny. (Cherry being a Soc while Johnny is another greaser.) All three of them talked once, while at a drive-in, Ponyboy finding a particular connection with Cherry despite her not being the only girl there. They all have the same sense of feeling “other”, and not being able to talk about it for fear of being judged.

Now for Johnny and Ponyboy’s relationship, which...oh boy. Some of it is just scenes like this, which feel very queer, outright:

“‘Guess I look okay now, huh, Johnny?’

He was studying me. ‘You know, you look an awful lot like Sodapop, the way you’ve got your hair and everything. I mean, except your eyes are green.’

‘They ain’t green, they’re gray,’ I said, reddening. ‘And I look about as much like Soda as you do.’ I got to my feet. ‘He’s good-looking.’

‘Shoot,’ Johnny said with a grin, ‘you are, too.’”

Not to mention the whole chapter they spend literally just acting like a domestic gay couple while they’re on the run, just the two of them, from the police. There’s also this conversation they have while watching the sunrise in this chapter (which I’ll talk more about later once I get to the symbolism), in which they talk about being outsiders. Here are a few quotes from that:

“‘You know,’ Johnny said slowly, ‘I never noticed colors and clouds and stuff until you kept reminding me about them. It seems like they were never there before.’”

“‘Well, Soda kinda looks like your mother did, but he acts just exactly like your father. And Darry is the spittin' image of your father, but he ain't wild and laughing all the time like he was. He acts like your mother. And you [Ponyboy] don't act like either one.’”

“‘You [Johnny] ain't like any of the gang. I mean, I couldn't tell Two-Bit or Steve or even Darry about the sunrise and clouds and stuff. I couldn't even remember that poem around them. I mean, they just don't dig. Just you and Sodapop. And maybe Cherry Valance.’

Johnny shrugged. ‘Yeah,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I guess we're different.’

‘Shoot,’ I said, blowing a perfect smoke ring, ‘maybe they are.’”

(Honestly, can my whole argument just be that one quote? “I guess we’re different.” // “Shoot. Maybe they are.” Queer stuff, huh?)

Later in the book, when Johnny is in the hospital, Ponyboy stresses again and again that he can’t think about him dying, that he can’t fathom a life without him. Everyone in the group is fond of Johnny, but Ponyboy acts like Johnny’s death would destroy him.

When Johnny is dying, he asks to see Ponyboy. His last words are to Ponyboy, despite Dally also being in the room. One of the other last things he does is write a letter to Ponyboy.

Johnny is also the first person Ponyboy runs to when his older brother hits him early in the book.

When Johnny dies, Ponyboy falls into denial, pretending and convincing himself that Johnny isn’t dead, because he couldn’t handle the grief. He says the reason that he doesn’t go insane with it, like Dally does, is because Johnny isn’t the only thing he loves.

This isn’t nearly all of it, but this post is already long as fuck, and I want to talk about some of the metaphors and symbols too.

Symbol #1: The hair

The is a more obvious one, as the author clearly intended it to be a metaphor, although probably not for something queer. When Johnny and Ponyboy go on the run after Johnny killed a Soc in self-defence, the two of them have to cut off their hair. This is obviously a big deal to them, especially Ponyboy, because they’re proud of their hair - it’s a symbol of the greasers, of rebellion, and it’s one of the last things they have that tie them with their gang back in the city. However, having Johnny and Ponyboy specifically cut off their hair feels like more of a symbol of them severing their ties to the greasers. They feel like outsiders within their own group already, and this is a way of showing that they’re leaving it behind, or starting to. (Shedding symbols of comphet, you know.)

Symbol #2: Sunrises and sunsets

Johnny, Cherry and Ponyboy, three characters who are outsiders within their own community, all spend time watching sunrises or sunsets. It’s one of the things that Ponyboy and Cherry bond over and talk about. Johnny and Ponyboy also watch a sunrise while they’re on the run. It’s a small thing that unites the three of them and becomes almost a symbol of their “otherness”, and thus, queercoding enters the chat. Also, the sunrise that Ponyboy and Johnny watch can symbolise the “beginning” of their relationship, as they start to see each other in a different light. 

Symbol #3: Gone with the Wind

When Johnny and Ponyboy are on the run, Ponyboy buys the book Gone with the Wind from a corner store. They read it together. The book is an idealised story of the southern, free, country life. Johnny makes comments about how the men in the book are charming and gallant and he admires them. The book symbolises both what Ponyboy and Johnny wish they could be, like happy and free and rich (and straight and masculine), and what they are, or what they’re starting to find with each other while in the countryside. When Johnny is in the hospital, he asks for a copy of the book to read. It’s one of his last requests. In my opinion, he asked for it both to remember Ponyboy and to escape to a reality where he wasn’t young and dying, to one where he was still with Ponyboy on the run, or one like in the book where none of this happened at all. The book is integral to their relationship.

Symbol #4: The poem

When Ponyboy and Johnny are watching the sunrise in the church, Ponyboy recites a poem by Robert Frost:

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold,

Her early leaf’s a flower,

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

And Eden sank to grief.

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

At the time, the two of them both say that they don’t understand the poem. When Johnny dies later in the book, his last words to Ponyboy are to “stay gold”. In the letter he wrote for Ponyboy, which Ponyboy reads later, he says that he now understands the poem.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you’re gold when you’re a kid, like green. When you’re a kid, everything’s new, dawn. It’s just when you get used to everything that it’s day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That’s gold. Keep that way, it’s a good way to be.”

Oh boy, there’s a lot to say about this poem.

First of all, the poem symbolises what Ponyboy gave Johnny - a new outlook on life. A lens with which to see more beautiful things. Johnny said that he hadn’t really appreciated sunsets or clouds before Ponyboy pointed them out to him.

Secondly, the meaning of the poem. When you consider Johnny’s interpretation, also taking into account what sunsets and sunrises etc. mean in this book, it’s possible that the “gold” phase is Ponyboy’s acceptance of himself. Ponyboy loves Johnny. He knows he’s different, and while he doesn’t shout it from the rooftops, he’s happy with it in his own way. He finds other people like him, queer, like Cherry and Johnny.

However, the poem’s whole meaning is that nothing gold can stay. That’s the message we’re left with, even with Johnny’s insistence of “staying gold”. It could honestly be referring to an array of things - perhaps Johnny himself, or life in general (given the amount of death in this book), or youth. Obviously, this whole post is about the queer undertones in the outsiders, so one could argue that it’s about a queer youth experience, especially in the past - finding someone like you, someone you love, but it not lasting forever, and it being especially difficult to find again, given the circumstances.

In the end, Johnny dies, but he leaves Ponyboy with all the things that remind him of him - sunsets, sunrises, Gone with the Wind, stargazing. And ultimately, I think that’s the “gold” that the book is referring to.

[ssson-of-sparda]

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - PART 2 (DANTE X FEM!READER)

Summary: When Dante shows up, Patty finally learns how things ended between Y/N and him but that's not the kind of ending she likes. (Part 5 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Tags: Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Angst / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: This is the end! I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can't wait to read your thoughts about it. Is it the end you expected? How did you imagine it? Tell me everything. I'm all ears

Patty dared peeping from above the headrest of the couch when the woman opened the door, definitely curious to see the two adults’ reactions when they would finally see each other – though she still feared Dante’s wrath a little.                 But when she finally saw them face-to-face, this couple she had been imagining – and rooting for - for weeks, she didn’t care about her friend’s anger or disappointment - He would definitely thank her later - . They looked so perfect, like coming from an episode of one of those telenovelas she loved so much. Dante was towering Y/N perfectly and she was so pretty. And the lighting.  Gosh “Like a scene from a movie.” She sighed. If only she could read their minds right now.      “There you are, young lady!” Dante declared with a menacing finger as he entered the house            “Hi Dante! What are you doing here?” Patty tried to play innocent but there was something in her voice that couldn’t fool Dante. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I never thought this annoying little brat would dare come here … or steal my stuff.”  “That’s alright, Dante. We were having fun actually. And at least, that girl dared visit me … unlike someone else.” Dante definitely felt that sting and he knew he deserved it. “How long has it been?” “A while.” He said, pretending to be casual even though he had the right amount of years and months in mind. “And this day never happened. Come on, Patty. Let’s go.”             No, no, no. This couldn’t end like that. Patty thought. Not after all this time. “Can I at least finish my tea please?”                  “ I’ll buy you a tea on the way back to Red Grave. Let’s go!” Dante insisted as he came closer to the girl to grab her by the arm and drag her away from Y/N’s place as fast as possible. “Right. Like I’m going to believe you. You never buy me anything, even when you owe me.” Y/N smiled while Dante sighed deeply. “Damn it.”                  “ Plus, you still owe me a trip to the beach.”   “ Alright. I’ll take you to the beach. You happy? Now let’s go.” He tried to pull her from the sofa but the girl resisted.             “ Or … you can let Y/N finish her story.” Patty suggested. Dante glanced at Y/N whom he hadn’t seen go to the kitchen to prepare him a strawberry sundae. “Actually I’d prefer that. Y/N can you continue your story, please?”   “ Well, maybe Dante can tell you so that you can finally erase his tab while I’m making this devil a strawberry sundae. Topped with a cherry and two pink wafers, is that it?”           “I don’t know. You’re the pro.” He had a faint smile at her that Patty noticed and beamed at. About time. “Where did you stop you damn story?”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 2

Dante was sitting at his desk, eyes closed, a magazine covering his face while he was listening to some good old school metal on the jukebox he had just acquired when the damn machine starting to sizzle and shake. “You gotta be kidding me.” Dante complained and, with a deep sigh, got up from his chair to kick the jukebox like Y/N had once taught him. “Funny how those machines always need a good kick to work.”          When he thought of his beloved girlfriend and realised how late it was, he wondered how the hell she had not arrived yet. It was very dark outside and the clock was striking one. The restaurant should be closed by now and Y/N should have been in his arms at least an hour ago, naked preferably.

Not sure Patty needs to know that.

Worry tied Dante’s stomach in a knot in spite of his sleepy brain screaming at him not to be paranoid. “Relax, Dante. She’s probably helping clean the kitchen or something”, he told himself     And yet, tired of repeating this sentence over and over again in his head, he decided to grab his coat and head to the diner. Better be paranoid and look like fool rather than wait here and worry one more second. Plus, he had waited long enough already and he had made a fool of himself in front of Y/N more than once. So what was one more time, huh?

But when Dante arrived at the restaurant and found it empty and dark, he wished he looked like a paranoid fool. But he was not paranoid and he was not a fool. He was terrified and alert in ways he hadn’t been for years. “Please be okay.” He whispered as he entered the place, feeling once again like a little boy hidden in a cupboard, crying for mommy and his brother. A ghastly feeling for someone who had spent years burying his past deep in his armoured heart as a promise … a dying wish.

Dante climbed the stairs quickly, very quickly and yet not quickly enough to his taste, only to stop and freeze at the sight and smell of warm blood on the wooden floor. But there was not just iron and salt flowing to his nostrils, there was this stench, rotting and disgusting, a stench only his demon sense could pick but that would soon be unbearable for humans too, he was sure of it. The stench of decaying corpses.

The son of Sparda never really liked Y/N’s parents. He actually lost almost all sort of respect for them the second they insulted him and made him understand they would never approve of him or of his relationship with their precious daughter. But when he saw them both, drenched in blood and completely ripped apart, their broken bodies lying on the floor of in their bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel sadness and compassion especially for the woman who was standing in the corner of the room, petrified and in tears, her small feminine frame strongly hold in a demonic grip. A nightmarish vision that had been scaring Dante for too long.               “Took you long enough… Son of Sparda.” The demon said with a calm and yet menacing cavernous voice that would make anyone tremble in fear. But that wasn’t the sound of his voice that made Dante afraid – because yes he was afraid –

You? Afraid? Rrr, shut up!

It was the sight of the woman he loved so close to that monster’s sharp claws.           The half-demon squinted at the devil before him, at his cloaked silhouette hidden in the darkness, trying to hide his fear, turning it into a nonchalant and over-confident mask he knew how to wear better than anything else (except his red leather jacket) but that somehow didn’t look as convincing as usual. “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, pal. Sparda may have a son. But that's not me.”          “Tony, what’s going on?” Y/N’s voice was shaking just like the rest of her body.            “It’s alright, baby. I’ll get you out of here. I promise.” He had too.        “You can try and pretend to be someone else. But I know who you are. Dante, Son of Sparda. And soon, your blood will flow for what your father did to my master.” Usually, that same old routine would have made Dante scoff and slice that creature in two for he was used to demons coming at him with pathetic threats and silly villain monologues. But today, what was at stake was simply way too important for impulsiveness.           “And who would that master be?”         “The one true king of the underworld. Mundus.”

Dante had heard that name before, long ago, in something that was now a long-time memory. Mundus was the villain of his favourite bedtime story, the one his father would always tell him and Vergil before going to sleep, when they were nothing but kids tucked in their beds.            Mundus. He remembered how that name would make him fidget and jump in anticipation and how his big brother in the bed under his would always kick him through the mattress to make him stop wriggling like a hyperactive goldfish out of water.            Mundus, the so-called Prince of Darkness Sparda had cast away and locked in the underworld a long long time ago to free the human world from his diabolical tyranny. Never thought he would have ever heard about him in another context though.

“Oh. That dude. Thought he would be dead by now… like you soon will be”    “Cocky, just like that filthy betrayer Sparda.” The demon smiled, showing short pointy black fangs that yet shone in the dim moonlight. “And in love with a human, just like he was. It would be a shame …” He grabbed a strand of Y/N’s (colour) hair to toy with it with a vicious smirk, making the young woman shiver even more. “… if something were to happen to her the same way something happened to your slut mother” Dante felt his jaw clench tight and his nails pierce the flesh of his palms. The rage, it was slowly yet surely eating at him.               “Don’t you dare talk about my mother! And don’t you dare lay even just a finger on Y/N!” Dante growled, not realising he had just given his identity up. But the black demon did and with a satisfied smile, he cupped Y/N’s face in between his vile sharp claws to burry his long nose in Dante lover’s soft hair and smell her human perfume that was oh so exquisite to him. An intended provocation and an effective one.      “How chivalrous! How noble! I’m sure your father would have said the same thing…” Dante frowned and clenched his fists even tighter, trying to stay put and in control, trying desperately to resist the powerful will to pounce on that demon and impale him on his sword and spill his guts on the floor. He knew he had too because he knew that the reaction he thought so much about was exactly what that monster wanted.           He was trying to infuriate him, to make him reckless and stop thinking rationally so that he would have him at a possible advantage when he let his rage have the best of him. Provocation at its finest. A strategy Dante knew all about. “… had he been here when I and my fellow demons tore her apart.” Yes, he knew all about it and yet... “Mundus says farewell, hybrid filth.” He suddenly stopped caring about what he knew.

Dante jumped and with a scream, unsheathed his sword to slash the arm that was holding Y/N. An impulsive move, a mistake he realised only too late, when the demon pierced the soft neck of the one he loved the most with his sharp claws in an attempt to protect himself from the demonic blade.       Everything went so quick to Y/N and yet so slow to Dante. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even have time to realise what was going on or to process the sudden pain. She only understood something was wrong when her body hit the floor and she saw Dante’s icy blue eyes widen and stare at her in horror. Then she felt the blood, her blood she was quite certain of it, running along her pale skin covering it in shades of dark red.                   Dante screamed like never before, like no human could, so loud the walls trembled and the demon slightly bowed down in fear. He screamed with an anger, a rage he didn’t know he was capable of, something so deep and passionate he never thought was in him. Something fiery … something … demonic. It felt like his skin was burning, like there was a ravaging fire spreading, growing in his body, menacing to burst, to combust him. And it almost did. It almost did but it stopped just when Rebellion sliced the head of the demon open, spilling his brains and his blood on the walls behind him.   Then, there was a relief that all this was over. The fight. The fire. The fear…  No not the fear!

“Y/N” Dante ran to her and quickly pressed her body against his. His hand found her neck to apply pressure on her bloody wound. She was barely conscious but she was still with him. “I’m so sorry, baby. Hold on, I got you.” He kissed her forehead. It was so cold against his lips. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Dante stayed by her side for what seemed hours to him, holding her tight against him, trying to keep the weakening life in her safe, when finally blue and red lights began to flicker in the bedroom. What happened next was so blurry. All he could make out were a group of men dragging Y/N from his embrace, saying they would take care of her and that he had to let her go. He didn’t know how he did it but he eventually obeyed those men, in spite of his arms trying to reach for her.         He followed them- followed Y/N- to the crowded street where the nearby residents were crammed into, whispering and trying to take a peep at what was going on in this usual very quiet neighbourhood. But he didn’t care about them or their judgmental looks. All he cared about was Y/N being taken away in an ambulance.   The paramedics didn’t let him in. And in spite of how much he wanted to fight their decision, Dante chose not to. He couldn’t delay them. Y/N’s life depended on time and too much had been wasted already.

But he found her again, like he would always find her, and he spent days waiting for her to wake up, waiting for her beautiful (colour) eyes to open again, for her sweet voice to say she was alright, his hand holding hers in an eternal grip that only her awakening could break, days in which he had to think about what happened, about what could have happened and what will happen. So many hypothesis, each one worse than the last.       And when Y/N finally awoke and, with a soft smile that bear no grudges or hatred, said. “Hey handsome.” He did what he thought he should have done days ago. “We need to end this.”

***

Patty’s eyes were glowing with tears as she was staring at Dante without blinking. This was certainly the saddest love story she had ever heard in her entire life. Even Bolero in Spring had never made her feel so much. “You can’t do that!” She declared as if in denial, as if she could change the past. “The story can’t end like this!”    “But it is not a story, Patty. This is not some television show made to satisfy a bunch of hopeless romantic little girls. It’s real life. And real life is tough and …” Dante looked at Y/N, at her sad eyes and at the scar she was trying to conceal under a red silk scarf. “What’s done cannot be undone.” “But you loved each other!” The girl was almost furious, shaking her head nervously.              “Patty.” Dante said calmly.       “And you still love each other, I’m sure of it. I can tell by the way you both tell your story.”   “Patty.” Dante repeated with insistence this time.     “I won’t have this ending! No way!” She shouted with a deep frown.                  “It has already ended!” Dante screamed and Patty froze. He had never screamed at her, never in his entire life, even in times when she was incredibly annoying. He had never screamed at her. “It has ended. And neither you nor anyone can change it, okay? If it doesn’t please you, you can leave, wait in the car and go back to your mushy love series.”

There was a pregnant silence in which Patty stared at Dante with a disappointment he had never witnessed. “Y/N was right. You know how to fight demons. But you don’t know how to fight YOUR demons.” And she got up and left the house to do exactly what her beloved friend had told her, meaning wait in the car to go back to mushy love stories, leaving Dante and Y/N alone in the living room with nothing else but a heavy discomfort.

“I’m sorry for making a scene.”                “ Well, you always had a flair for the dramatic.” They both had a conspiratorial smile similar to the ones they used to share when they were younger except it was fainter, sadder. “ She read the letter, the one you wrote me” Dante said staring at his hands in discomfort. He couldn’t look at Y/N, not with all the memories rushing in his head.                  “ I figured.” But she looked at him, excepting deep down he would say something, anything about what happened.”Never thought you would have kept it though.”               “ Why not?”       “ You never replied.” And there it was, that disappointment Dante well deserved.   “I did reply. I just never sent the letter.” Y/N's eyes slightly widened at this unexpected confession. What did he mean by that?              “Huh, words of advice. After writing a letter to someone, you need to mail it.” She declared sarcastically, not really knowing how she managed to crack such a joke. Was it a joke? Maybe, because Dante laughed a bit.       “ I had no money to buy a stamp.” The girl scoffed. She knew the man before her all to well to know that this was “Bullshit.” But she had missed it, missed him.  “What did it say?”          “ Same crap I told you at the hospital. How much I was sorry and … You know what? … There.” He opened his red coat to take a crumpled letter from his inside pocket. It was unsealed, stamped –obviously- and her name and address were written on it.                “ I hope Devil May Cry will never provide delivery service cause this has clearly arrived way too late.” However she took it in her hands, gathering all her inner strength not to tremble as she could feel all those emotions shaking inside of her.  “ Years too late. You can say it.” Dante smiled as he watched the letter he had kept to himself for so many years finally reaching its long-awaited recipient.  “I don’t expect you to read it … or open it. You can actually turn it into a paper plane or shove it down my throat if you want. I won’t fight you.” Of course he had to joke, to play it cool but she didn’t mind. She knew it was just one of his defence mechanism and she couldn’t blame him for it.      “ So why giving it to me?” Dante shrugged, refusing to admit he did want her to read what his young 19 years old self had to say, what he still had to say. “You can’t stop with the devil-may-care for a second and admit what you truly want, what you truly feel, can you?”     “ Fight my demons, huh?” He quoted her and she nodded. “Yes. Would that be so complicated for a ‘menacing devil hunter’ like yourself?” It was her turn to quote him but that quote made him melancholically happy.                   “ I guess that’s a challenge I still can not face.”              “ Or don’t want to” There was a new pause and as they finally looked at each other’s eyes, they knew they would not fix what had been broken years ago today. He was not ready. Not yet anyway. And that was okay. Y/N was patient. She could wait. She could keep waiting.     “Goodbye Y/N” Especially when this time a kiss on her forehead and a hand on her cheek felt more hopeful than ever. “Goodbye, Dante.”

And she watched him leave, again, but certain that someday, one day he would come back to her as he always would. After all, he promised.

[fatefulfaerie]

Memory

Link couldn’t see any of the castle from where he sat, his feet dangling over the ledge of the large rock and his hands planted behind him in his comfortable lounge. From Tarrey Town, the Akkala Citadel Ruins and descending sharp peaks and valleys of Death Mountain’s lower sections covered up the castle in its entirety.

In places such as this, it was easy for Link to forget his responsibility, at least for the moment. But for the blue Sheikah tower rising above the citadel and Vah Rudania’s red stream of light aimed at an angle towards a castle he couldn’t see, it was places like this that surely allowed the people of Hyrule to forget about what Daruk called “that swirling swine”.

There was a peace and a resounding apathy they had that he simply couldn’t submit to. After all, a hundred years was a long time. People had survived the Calamity, had given life to children and grandchildren in a world Link saw as ruined. This was their normal, as thus Hyrule was, for the most part, complacent.

But he couldn’t be.

As relaxing as the sunset was upon Akkala, he couldn’t rest within it. Call it his inner courage, that pushed him into battle with a confidence unbefitting of an amnesia-ridden warrior. Call it his sense of justice, that looked at Hyrule and its state of ruin and felt pulled to correct it by some instinct he couldn’t explain. Call it something else entirely, something that burned and ached within him whenever he heard her voice or saw her face.

Link was restless in a world that rested upon chaos, and there were so many reasons to explain why.

“I was wondering where you wandered off to.”

Link looked behind him, his eyes following Hudson as he sat next to him. It wasn’t long after Hudson settled that Link’s gaze went back to the sunset.

“I wanted to thank you,” Hudson started. “For everything you did to bring this town together, for even introducing me to my wife because of that. Really, I can’t thank you enough. You really are amazing.”

Link shook his head as he looked out at the distance.

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” Hudson said with a slight chuckle. “But I do know that it’s hard to find someone in Hyrule who will drop everything for someone else. It’s an admirable trait, and so is your humility.”

Link took a pause. He was in this conversation now, whether he wanted to be or not. And he could tell from his tone of voice that Hudson wanted from him what Link knew he could do the least.

Explain himself. And make conversation.

“I think I just…” He tried before exhaling a breath. “...needed some busy work...I’m nervous about something.”

Hudson nodded.

“That was me this morning,” he said. “Before the nuptials I was so nervous. I needed to make sure every little thing was perfect, prepare myself in every possible way, for every possible circumstance, almost training myself to be ready.”

“Seems kind of obsessive,” Link said, knowing he was projecting, knowing that for the past three months he had gone to every shrine, explored every corner of Hyrule, fought any malicious monster that would put up a fight. He was fueled by the pure fear of failing Hyrule again, failing her again.

“How did you get out of it?” Link asked.

“Trusted myself,” he said. “That I was ready, that in a way, I’ve always been ready, that when it comes down to it, there’s only so much I can do.”

Link nodded in understanding. It was time. It felt like time. In fact, it had felt that way for a while now. Link had felt the desire to right the wrongs of his failure ever since he first paraglided onto the soil of Hyrule.

And yet the more he ventured through it, the more he learned of his weaknesses, the more he learned of the champions’ death, the destruction of the Hyrule he was supposed to save, his fall at Blatchery Plains, the more he doubted he was worthy of the Princess’ confidence. He could smell the way his blood ached in his nose, he could feel the Princess’ hands as she clutched onto him, the tug on his heart as he inwardly insisted upon staying alive for her, his neck pulling the weight of his head to ensure that if he were to see one last thing before he died, it would be her.

That was his failure, dying at Hyrule’s greatest hour of need, but his recompense for that was surviving, given the opportunity to become stronger by perhaps the goddesses themselves, the opportunity to save her. And thus, his determination to not fail her again consumed him with a near obsession of self-improvement.

“What about you, huh?” Hudson asked, completely interrupting Link’s train of thought. “Got someone special?”

“No...no…” Link said with a bashful chuckle and a bowed head, as if averting his glance from the sunset.

“Oh come on,” Hudson insisted, not believing Link in the slightest. “Strapping young lad like you, there’s got to be someone.”

Green eyes shone in his mind like emeralds in the moonlight, but even brighter was the smile he liked to imagine her wearing, that made his heart burst at the seams. He thought of her blonde hair billowing in the wind as the breeze shifted upon him, rocking his own strands of light brown hair.

“Maybe once, but…” Link said. “We’re kind of...separated.”

“Bad break up?” Hudson asked.

“Something like that,” Link said, trying not to laugh at the fact that he was fairly certain they were never ‘together’ in the first place. They never got the chance. The term ‘separated’ was a bit more literal.

“Do you still love her?” Hudson asked.

Link looked up, looking in the direction of the castle, his blue eyes extending beyond this conversation.

“Yes,” Link said with a piercing vulnerability and a breathlessness, as if it was the first time he said it out loud.

“Then that’s all that matters,” Hudson said. “Go to her and show her your love. I’m sure she’ll take you back in a heartbeat.”

That wasn’t the problem. Well, it was a problem, whether her love for him lasted a hundred years or not, and after that, all that foreign relationship stuff, but that was something to suss out much, much later. The problem now was his readiness to save her and not fail.

“Y-yeah totally,” Link said in reply before out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hudson standing up.

“I’ll leave you to your pondering,” he said. “I bet Rhondson is looking for me anyway. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Yeah,” Link said, turning his head to force a small smile.

“And be sure to invite us to the wedding,” Hudson said as he walked off. Link didn’t have the energy to correct him, to chase after him and insist upon the ridiculousness of that concept. Technically, they were still only seventeen and Hudson didn’t know he was talking about a princess, or that Link was nervous about something much more perilous.

Link shook his head as his gaze returned to look at the sunset, imagining the castle bathed in that same light behind the citadel.

“Trusting myself,” Link whispered.

He purposefully fell to his back with an exasperated sigh. His fingers interlocked and his hands resting on his forehead.

Could he really do this? Was he really ready to face Calamity Ganon? All this extra time, was he ready earlier? Stressing too much over being perfect? He just needed to win once, to defeat Calamity Ganon once. Maybe it wasn’t about feeling ready, one moment he didn’t know he was waiting for where everything clicks into place. Maybe it was just about getting up the courage to try.

He closed his eyes slowly with his next inhale, searching for the motivation and finding it quickly.

You’re going to be just fine.

Her voice was soft, like an angel as his mind replayed the memory. With what seemed a great effort his glance shifted to her. His head rested on her shoulder and he could feel the love in his heart as he looked at her, but he also felt himself fading.

What he saw of her was always an image that faded, lasting mere seconds. If he had the choice, he could look upon her for thousands of seconds and it still wouldn’t be enough time. He tried to stay here, in this moment, holding on to it for dear life, coaxing himself to focus on her and by sheer willpower ignore his fatal injuries. A breath escaped him quickly after.

Darkness.

Open your eyes.

Link did just that, to an Akkalan sunset, clouds reaching and spreading, like smears of white upon an orange canvas.

He felt his breathing, the one reanimated by the Shrine of Resurrection all those months ago, the way it coupled with the wind and the wild.

To anyone else in Hyrule, this moment would be peaceful and serene, perfect. But when it came down to it, at the end of the day, after all the rigorous training and perfectionism, the worries, the overzealous anxiety about failing at his role…

No matter what he feared, he knew one thing for certain.

He wanted to see her, know her, feel her, love her as more than just a memory.

He wanted her beside him.

[sorry-i-spaced]

Issues

Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning. 

“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”

“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”

“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”

“Doug was able to commit”

“Commit”

Lack of conviction”

“Work….important...lack of conviction”

“Commit”

“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ. 

“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.

“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time. 

“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.” 

Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.   

“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued  mess of a cot and shut his eyes.

“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.

Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his  pillow in the direction of  Beej. 

“Get up” he yelled. 

The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)

“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused. 

“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes. 

The two quickly ran out the door. 

In triage Hawk got right to work. 

“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”

“This one can wait”

Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.

“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.

Boom!

“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt. 

Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.

“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.

Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through. 

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.” 

The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up. 

“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.” 

“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”

“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.

“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.” 

The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.

Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?” 

“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.” 

Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying. 

“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”

“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”

“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back. 

Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.

“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.

“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.” 

That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit. 

“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.

“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”

Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative. 

“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence. 

“What the hell was that?” 

Not even Klinger had an explanation.

All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere. 

Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon. 

“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound. 

“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-” 

His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej

“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.

“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse. 

“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with. 

“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder. 

“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter. 

Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye. 

“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp. 

They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room. 

A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye. 

“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist. 

“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent. 

“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”

Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”

“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.

“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye. 

“How was your relationship with your mom?” 

“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.

“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.

“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”

Rambled Hawk. 

“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”

“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.

“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”

“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”

Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?” 

“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly. 

Hawkeye shut up and listened. 

“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”

“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.

“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”

“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye. 

“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.

“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.

“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.

“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly. 

The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them. 

The End!

[mariahthelioness29]

Remember the time

Pairing: SamBucky! X Black! reader 

WC: 7.3K (EYE... idk why they keep getting longer)

A look into y/n’s relationship with Sam and Bucky years after Send the Addy.

Send the Addy was part of @blackmissfrizzle  and her Frizzle’s 2K Follower Celebration & Bad Bitch Challenge. I had the song Send the Addy by Flo Milli.

Warning: Angst, fight, violence, minor character deaths, SMUT, light D/s dynamics, threesome, sir and daddy naming, shower sex, rough sex, rimming, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), fingering, cum eating.

@sambuckyslayallday @blackmissfrizzle @xbuchananbarnes @avintagekiss24 @helahades @sapphirescrolls @rasberrylemon @saltball @honestlyfrance @black-mcu-imagines @blacklavenderjade @saintsebastian-stan @deansblackbeauty @marvelmaree @honeychicanawrites  @siancore

“y/n,what's your status”, Bucky asks in his coms.

You heard Bucky’s call but you decided to ignore it. 

“Hang on”, you gruffed him through the coms. 

You have to save the Ihumann all in chains by the Kree. 

You are appalled that slavery is a reality, still. 

Only this time is among aliens. 

You are gathering information on the Kree and Skrull cold war for Sam and Danvers. 

You jumped down from a level to the other and appeared in front of the Kree soldiers. 

“ Hey, sailors”, You salute the Kree soldiers before frying them with energy coming out of you.  They drop calcined. 

The poor Ihumann are shaking like leaves. One of them grabbed a kid for dear life. 

You assume the kid is theirs. 

“ I am here to help”, you signed to them in their language. 

They nod like bobble heads, still terrified.

“Here”, you signed 

 You hand them some guns and retractable Wakandan spears. 

“ Walk behind me and when I say attack, you do as I say”. You signed to them. 

“You walked fast with them and you signaled them to hide. 

Some hide behind columns with you and the others blend in with the wall.

Everything was going great, according to plan. 

Until other Kree Soldiers noticed you and the Ihumann. 

You make them rush to the spacejet. 

You press a button to open the spacejet from behind  

 You gave them all the space suits buttons you had including your own and only a young Ihumann stayed with you. 

“ I’ll fight with you”, he signals. 

Hissing and groans in pains, screams in agony , the Ihumman slashed through the Kree Soldiers. 

You electro shock them until one the Kree soldier you did not see, impaled the Ihumman from his back. 

You hear a strangled scream, that is deafening. 

You all wince and turn around. You see blue blood pouring, hands over their mouth, eyes wide in shock and a spear through him. They drop to their knees and they look at you. 

“NOOOOOOOOOO !!!!!”, you screamed.

Being distraught, the Kree soldiers took advantage and put a stabilizer on you.

A silent scream escapes your throat, the stabilizer bites in your skin, rendering you powerless.

The Kree soldiers put you in chains and make you walk with them. 

You are going to another section of the massive compound floating along the sky. 

"Huh? , a Terran, Quu, told me they are exquisite, I will find out  with this one". He tugs at your chain.

" Save a spot for me, I am trying to find out too". The other soldier says.

You feel a presence. 

You see a black shadow. 

You hear shots and you flinch. You hear the men trapping you, dropped like a potato sack. 

You are relieved to see Bucky but suddenly you are not. 

You realize why the man is feared and why the name Winter Soldier exists. 

If looks can kill, you would’ve been 10 feet underground. 

“ Buck, I can explain”. You say all breathy. He walks to you. He gets you out the chains. He barely acknowledges you, hands you a glass like chip, takes you by the forearm, puts the space suit button on you and taps on it. You are surrounded by the space suit. 

Through nooks and crannies, you reach the underground, shooting some soldiers down the way. You manage to escape, through a narrow exit near the underground motors of the compound.

You float to the spaceship and enter it. You click on the button and the space suits disappear.

He makes you sit and he takes the aid kit, injecting a little local anesthetic. 

He cuts around the stabilizer and then takes it out with some tweezers. It is hard work cause the stabilizer has some hooks in it.

He takes the bloody stabilizer out of your neck, dropping, stomping it on the floor. He puts some nanobites to close the injury and some alcohol.

You hiss at the feeling of the alcohol and the nanobites.

Bucky’s jaw is square with anger. 

He looks at you with the corner of his eyes. 

He sees the Ihummann in the spacejet. 

“ Translate for me, you are safe and welcome” ,he orders you in a robotic tone. 

You sign what he says. They smile at you and they all say thank you to you. 

Relieve is all over their faces. Some of them sigh, others with tears of happiness. 

“ They say thank you”, you whisper to him. 

He smiles at them but you know it is a smile that does not reach his eyes.

He bows to them with his fist on his chest. 

A sign of “your welcome”, a reverence you taught him.

They all do the same to him back. 

He goes to the cockpit of the spaceship and you beside him. 

“ Bucky”, you try to talk to him. 

“ Not now, y/n”, he gruffs. 

You know, you are for one hell of a talk with him and Sam, when you’re back on Earth. 

It took you three weeks to get back on Earth. 

It was the route where Kree least looked for you. 

Sam and Danvers are aware of what you did, but they cannot help with resources for now. 

You stop in several planets, from negotiating some of your arsenal, curing aliens, selling some Earth trinkets, cage fighting, even some stripping. you and Bucky did on Traia to have food, oxygen, water, special water for the Ihumman and a place to rest. You were a success on Traia, they never saw Terrans before. So much, you and Bucky needed to fight the bar patron to let you out.

Bucky only said good night and talked to you the necessary. 

You slept with your backs against each other. 

He is still mad at you. 

You arrived at the headquarters. 

Bucky's hair was to his ears. His beard was full. 

Your hair looks tired and ran through. You all stink. 

The Ihumann stayed in the jet. They need to stay since Earth’s oxygen is nauseating to them, but you promised them you will find a way they can have a shower too since Earth's water makes them ill. They have to talk in signs all the time cause their voice is too high for human ears. 

Once you shower, you put on some comfortable clothes. 

You go to your office. You dread in your spirit, the debriefing and the report you have to do. 

“ ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKIN’ MIND!!!!”,Sam screeched, entering your office with Bucky. 

“BOY, DON’T YOU YELL AT ME, I’M NOT FIVE”, you yell back at him. 

“This the welcome I get, you two ganging up on me”, you huff. 

“ I am not the one, who went head on to Kree soldiers, put Ihumann in the jet, got captured by the Kree, Bucky reminds you. 

“We had to do everything to stay afloat for three weeks alone in space or did you forget Traia”. Bucky reminds you again.

“You jeopardize this whole mission, are you aware of that”, Bucky seethes. 

“ Oh!, you act surprised with your hand on your chest. “Ladies and Gents, Non-binary peeps, he speaks”, extending your arms to the side.

“Yes, I did and I’ll do it again, I will not be impartial, waiting for instructions  while beings are put in chains, used as live-experiments, to appease some bullshit power”. You demanded. 

“ You sidetracked this mission and brought Ihumann to earth, what are we going to do with them,the air makes them nauseous, they do not even drink the same water as us, it makes them ill!,Sam speaks with disbelief, pointing to the spacejet.

“ I will find a solution, I am the doctor here, don’t you worry ‘bout it”, You answer him. 

Sam huffs in disbelief with his hand on his hip. Bucky just sits on the chair, rubbing his temples. 

You throw the chips on the table . The one that Bucky gave you ,two chips extras. They were not even aware of the other two. 

Their eyes are wide. They look at the two extra chips and then each other.

“Here is your mission”. You say to them.

“I AM NOT STUPID, YOU TWO ALWAYS CUT MY WINGS IN MISSIONS” your voice hoarse with anger. 

They both look at each other. 

“ That’s not true!”, Sam rushes out. 

“ Oh no ,it isn’t?, I've always had to ask Hill and Danvers, because you never want me to do outside work.”

“ All the schedules for the mission, I am the one that receives a little thing and some bullshit paperwork”. 

“ I do it, 'cause I want you safe”, Bucky says trying to calm down. 

" I don't want another kidnapping and you receiving the full force of a dying star on you”, Sam say pointing at you and getting closer to you.

"I know what I got myself into, when I decided that this is  what I'm going to do for a living and I survived, I am here".

“We need to help the Ihumann, there are the ones suffering the most”, you plead to Sam. 

“ We are trying to find a solution for that  cold war, this can affect earth, our galaxy and you bringing Ihumann will jeopardize that. This will make us look biased! .” Sam defends.

“ Oh, I read the debriefing documents, the idea is that the Kree colonize Koraa and let them have their way and pretend we do not see it”, You answer with venom. 

“ That looks like the most wise decision, for now, y/n, let them believe they have a little power and when they least expect, we come in”, Bucky defends. 

“ Do you both realize that by doing that it is the ⅗ compromise all over again ?” You look at them with disdain. 

“ y/n, Buck and Danvers are right”, Sam touches your arm up and down, but you retreat your arm from him. 

“ Have you lost your sense of self!”, You look at Sam up and down. 

“ Black people, Native Americans, we are the products of that atrocity to this day. 

You, Danvers, and him think that is the best solution for the Ihumann”, you ask in disbelief. 

“ Y’all disgust me, get the fuck outta my office, the door is right there”. You say to them with a tear in your eye. 

They both look at you, with pleading eyes. 

NOW!!, you shout at them.

Bucky stands from the chair, eyes down. Sam eyes down too and they leave. 

You drop on your chair, your head down, you let the tears win. 

You sob loud, letting the three weeks of stress get out of your system. 

You cry for the young Ihumann that you saw dying, fighting for freedom, defending his folk. You will mourn for him according to their tradition. You take deep breaths, you dry your eyes, after some time. 

Your ears still hurt from the strangled scream of the Ihumman. 

 Feeling a little bit better, you walk out of your office to the main kitchen. You take raw fish and poultry, portion them in Ziploc bags. You take more fish and poultry out of the freezer,  defrost and portion them in Ziploc bags and put it all in a big shopping bag. 

You enter the front doors and you give the Ihummann the portions. 

“We can help you with the oxygen machine and water customization”, three young Ihumann women sign to you. 

“We have enough oxygen, for a couple of days, in the space suit, we can do something that can filter the oxygen here and the water, my name is Kala”. She signs. 

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you Kala, we start tomorrow, at dawn, it is not much, I’m sorry”. You signed pointing  at the food. 

" and I am sorry for losing one of you", you signed, regret all over your face.

“It’s okay, this will really do, my name is Jouuma”, she signed to you.

"Moab, he died a hero, it hurts but it was not in vain, He would've been happy seeing we are free.",Joumma signed to you. You come close to her and extend your arm to hug her. You hugged each other and you distanced from each other 

You put your hand in your chest and sigh in reliefs. They smile

 They nod and yawn. “Get some sleep”. You signed.

“ It’s okay, again thank you for saving us, my name is Ula, goodnight”. One of them signed.

“Goodnight”, you signed to them, with a smile while exiting the spacejet. 

You go back to your office. You take the mattress out of the sofabed.

“Thank Jesus, I bought this”. 

You tiptoe to your shared bedroom with Sam and Bucky. They look asleep. You take some heavy blankets and then to the kitchen for some ice cream and chocolates. 

You were watching some series, but you felt your eyes closing, you were full of chocolates and ice cream and you fell asleep on the sofabed

Sam and Bucky come to your office later in the night. They open the door and tip toe in. 

They are both restless, you are not there. The bed feels cold, without you. 

“Do you think she will get mad when she wakes up on the bed instead ?”, Sam asks.

Bucky shrugs. 

“I just want us to sleep comfortably, I miss her and my bed”, Bucky says voice full tiredness and he yawns. 

They see you deep in sleep. A pint of ice cream and chocolate wrappings inside the pint on the floor next to the sofa bed. The T.V projector on. 

They see your alarm set at the crack of dawn and some calculations on the desk.

Sam, moves the curtains and sees the spacejet.

“She is going to work with them in the morning”, Sam states to Bucky. 

Bucky nodded with his lips pursed. 

Sam and Bucky’s eyes are puffy from crying. 

Bucky carries you out of the office bridal style. 

Sam puts the mattress back in the sofa, turns T.V off and takes out the pint of ice cream with him to the kitchen. 

He goes to the spacejet to talk with Ihumann, with a translator. 

In your bedroom, Bucky puts you in the middle of the bed. He sets the alarm the same time you had the alarm in the office. 

He caresses your face with a delicacy to not wake you up. He ghosts his lips over your hairline and breathes you in. He realizes there, that you are not the same wide eyed sugar baby at the start of your relationship with them. It cost him to shake that state.

 They were your providers, you called for them when you were in trouble, but you grew out of that. 

You are now Dr. y/n. y/l/n, pioneering space anthropologist, alien anatomist and alien rights advocate and scientist.

He sighs and tangles his leg on top of yours, facing you and goes to sleep. 

Sam enters the bedroom 

He sees the beautiful sight of you and Bucky breathing deep asleep.

He realizes, it is true what you said earlier. He has lost his way. In his way to mitigate the scandal that was the world knowing their relationship with you, he began to be more complacent to the point, he is not the same Sam Wilson.

 You are showing him that when you cannot compromise, you won't. You are trying to prevent a system of discrimination. All of the things, he should be doing. 

He goes to the other side of the bed next to you, facing your back, he sleeps the closest he can to you, breathing you in and ghosting his lips over your shoulder.

You woke up and groaned at the sound of the alarm beeping for the third time. You feel two weights next to you. Bucky was cocooned next to you with his leg tangled in yours. Sam was on his back but he has your arm extended on his chest.

You detangle yourself from them and get out the bed. You see them stir a little in their sleep, their faces screwed up. “Hmm, even in their sleep , they can feel whenever I go”, you thought. You shake your head. You love them so much but you cannot let them stagnate you because they want to protect you. You know they mean well, but you are your own person, you have to be. 

You take a shower, put on some comfortable blue overalls and a blue shirt with some blue working boots and you go to the spacejet with the Ihumann. Blue is the mourning color of the Ihumann. 

Kala, Jouuma and Ula are up in their spacesuits. 

“Morning”, you sign

They salute, signing morning. “You are wearing blue”, Ula noticed. 

“I am in mourning for Moab, I will shop, some blue clothes for you later”, you told them. 

“Thank you but we do not want to become burdensome to you and your “husbands” ”, Joumma tells you through signs.

You point at them, then do waves on your face , put the number three with your fingers and a circle with your hands, you wiggle your finger and then throw your hand behind your back hard. 

That means:

“You deserve mourning for Moab, it is not a burden”, you assure them. 

“ How do you know I have “husbands”?”, you signed. 

“ Yesterday night, a man of your color introduced himself as “Sam”, your husband and said the other man with the metal arm “Bucky” was your husband too, that you are working hard to give us a space, he translated with a virtual translator. If we need anything, press this  for any emergency, they will come cause you need sleep”, Ula signed and pointed to the emergency tablet.

“He said, he will try his best on the council to give us our land back”, Jouuma signed.

You sighed. You are happy that the Sam you know is still there. You know, he does not make empty promises. 

They are in awe seeing the dawn and the birds fly.

They are smiling at each other and at the sky. You know that feeling. Whenever you are in space, you are like them, excited from everything around you.

With that all of you go to the basement of the compound

Later that day, you brought all of regular clothes and blue clothes for them and cut holes in the pants so that their tails were free. You wore blue and did intermediate fasting with them for three days in honor of Moab

You were working day and night for a week straight. Kala, Jouuma and Ula were the test subject for the chambers and they gave some recommendations.

 You enlisted the help of Shuri, Tony, Bruce and Helen to make the lowest part of the basement of the compound suitable for them. The basement was big enough for some chambers and a couple of showers with special ionized water for them. Your other work was deciphering the encryption on the chips with Carol.  

It was mostly a reading and staying quiet affair. There was still a little animosity between you and Carol, since you did not agree on the conditions for the end of the cold war.

You have given her the cold treatment. She has apologized already but you were not going to let her off the hook that easy.  

“y/n”, Carol says your name soft. 

You turn to her. 

“I am so sorry, for not seeing the Ihumann how the conditions of armistice can affect the Ihumann, I was shortsighted and I brought Wilson and Barnes to my lack of vision, It was completely insensitive of me not thinking not seeing this from your point of view. I understand if you do not accept my apology. Regardless, I will work on seeing things from different points of views and that these solutions actually help the people that needed the most. I hope de-encrypting this can give us the upper hand so that we can help the Ihummann, Carol apologize. 

you chuckle. 

“That was nice”

“Hmm, how does those words taste coming out of your mouth”, you tease Carol smirking,

She rolls her eyes, “like the worst kind of vinegar, It feels horrible when I fuck up, horrible but they are necessary”, She admits. 

“I hope we can find something with the program we installed”, You go and lay your head on her shoulder. 

She sighs and nods, looking at the chips with connected to the projector, 

“When are you going to resolve your differences with Wilson and Barnes?” Carol asked. 

“I have never seen two men so lovesick and sad. It is like a Skrull tragedy”, Carol expressed. 

“Maybe tonight, but I will have a party with the Ihummann to celebrate in the basement, you are invited too”. You hand her a face mask with a filter and a pair of headphones. 

She is surprised with the mask  and headphones on her hand. “The party is in the basement”, you say walking out. 

The basement is nice, It is their environment, they even manage to start growing some of their vegetables. Ula had some seeds in her pocket.

You are there with your oxygen filtering mask and some headphones to hear the music to your frequency, courtesy of Tony and Shuri. They designed a surround system that was on the frequency of sound apt for them but not deafening for the rest tower.

You were showing different music of “Terra”(Earth), you were showing them Afrobeats, now they are listening to Beyonce's ``Already. The video was there on the projector and they were imitating the dance steps, step by step perfectly. The Ihumann have amazing photographic reflexes. They understand the lyrics, they love the rhythm. There is a translator embedded in the projector. If you take your headphones off, you are sure you will be deaf. They have the volume so high. That’s why you talk in signs. Human voice or humanoid voice and its frequency is too low for them and their voice is too loud for your ears.

They ask you if the blue men in the video are alien, they have blue skin. You signed to them they are human but painted blue. They all signed oh.. 

You signed that you will show them another genre and another artist from you were a little bit younger. You play Send the Addy and 19  by Flo Milli. “It is called Rap/ Hip-Hop and this one of my favorite artists, Flo Milli”. 

They start jumping to the song and then imitating how you dance.

You start dancing just like how you remember doing the way you used to. Going all down and starting twerking to the floor and they all do the same. You laugh seeing them twerk

You remember that night in the hotel years ago.

How lively and also kind of naïve you were. 

How dependent you used to be of Sammy and Buck. You miss that girl from time to time. 

Before trending on twitter as #blackmonicalewinsky, before going with the Guardians to escape all that scandal, change your identity, become a pioneer in a career made by Jane Foster and Carol Danvers, going to missions on different planets, before being an avenger, before escaping from space pirates and rather jump on a dying star than to be theirs, Carol finding you passed out floating in space and getting your powers.

Carol arrived at the celebration and you know she likes Classic Rock. 

You signed to them that the type of music they are going to listen to is Rock and the band is Gun n Roses, that they are classic and renowned here on Terra. They all have wide eyes and they mouth Oh.. 

After a while of rock music videos, they were listening and watching Michael Jackson’s Remember the time. You told  them that Michael was one of the best artists to ever grace Terra. He made moonwalking famous and he is a staple of Terran music. 

They all watch your signing intently to remember what you said, like good kids in school.

They were like little kids in a movie theater. You look at them screaming scared when Michael appeared from the dust in the video. 

“Those sweet memories

Will always be dear to me

And girl no matter what was said

I will never forget what we had

Now baby” Michael was singing. 

Your mind went to all the amazing times, Sammy, Buck and you had. All the times when you felt on top of the world. The song is one of Sam and Buck’s favorites. You need to make amends with each other. You want to but you just haven’t got the time. You are scared your fights were never this long. It has been a month. You are in that weird grey zone. Not that mad at each other but there is still not a proper closure to this.

At the end they were imitating the dance moves in the dance break of the video, perfectly just like the dancers in the video. It was outstanding, seeing Jouuma imitate Michael Jackson so good like she was some live extension of him.

“Michael would’ve been proud; aliens listening to his music and enjoying it”, you thought. 

“ I am going to get ‘em and resolve our differences”, you say to Carol. 

“ Go, get’em, tiger, You will be wobbling to the office tomorrow, I just know”, Carol snickered, you shove her. She laughs and you shake your head and stifle a laugh. 

Talos was with Sam and Bucky and some of the Ihummann with their oxygen filter mask. 

Sam and Bucky were smoking.

Sam was smoking a Cuban cigar, Bucky a plain Marlboro. 

They were all concentrating on a game of poker. 

It was ridiculous how many times they have lost to the Nuk, Cab and Ilu,the Ihumann playing poker with them.

You smell tobacco and you roll your eyes. You hate tobacco, but your heart softens. They only do that when they are too stressed.

You saw them playing. You went to the table. You sat on Sam’s lap, you kissed him on the corner of his lips. You did the same to Bucky, you sat on his lap, you kiss the corner of his lips. You get up and walk , then you turn around your head, looking at them with desire and continue walking, swaying your hips. 

All the Ihumann, Talos, the other Skrulls, look at Bucky and Sam. 

They start either signing whistling sounds or whistling to Sam and Bucky. 

Sam feels his cheeks heat up, Bucky actually gets red in the face. 

“I see you will get lucky tonight,boys, I don’t know much about Earth women, but that is a woman after something, Talos said to them, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“You know that is the first sign of loving, we have received in a month”, Bucky tells the group.

“What the hell are you here for, GO!!!, to where she is, Nuk, the Ihumann signed to them. 

Bucky and Sam understood with the translator. He and Sam get up from the table and walk to their room so fast, one probably could see the dust in shape in their form, just like the cartoons. 

You took all your clothes. You went straight to the shower. 

The water was relaxing and giving you courage. 

You hear their footsteps in the room and you smile.

You  are vibrating with anticipation just like that one time in the hotel or your first time together. 

They hear the shower. They take their clothes in a frenzy. In a second,they are only in their boxes. 

They enter the bathroom. They see you through the glass and their mouths water. 

“May we join, ma’am ?”Bucky asks all breathy, eyes darkening, taking you in. 

“You may”, you whisper to them, sliding the glass barrier.

Sam and he take off their boxers and step into the shower, enter in and  slide the door close.  

You feel the air change when they step up. 

The way they are surrounding you. 

Bucky goes behind you and Sam in front.

Your lips are quivering, feeling Sam and Bucky this close.

He cups your face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks.

He ghosts his lips on top of yours and kisses you unhurried. 

He increased the pace of the kiss. He sweeps his tongue on your lip. Your lips part giving him access. You are making out with him, massaging each other’s tongues.

You are falling in that feeling of surrendering to them. 

Bucky hugs you from behind then he starts massaging your breast. The water, the contrast of metal and flesh. You throw your head on his shoulder. Your breathing is getting ragged. 

Bucky is hissing in your ear. The rubbing of your ass against his dick was making him dizzy. 

Sam brings you close to him again, to kiss you with all the passion he has.

Bucky entered his finger in you. You gasp into the kiss and Sam starts to suckle on your neck. You are so soaked, and warm on his fingers. “ Fuck it, I can’t wait, I going to take you here ”, Bucky rushes out 

Sam stops the water. 

He makes you find support by putting your hands on the tiles, caging Sam in.

He brings your ass to him and he lines up with your entrance. 

He thrusts into you in one go, groaning “Goddamn”.

You cry out “Daddy, fuck!”. 

Sam drops on his knees in between your legs, flicking his tongue on your clit.

You go cross-eyed. “Sir, fuck, that’s so good”, you whine

After a while, he starts flicking his tongue on Bucky’s balls and Bucky stutters his movement moaning. 

“FUCK!!, you two are going to be the death of me”, Bucky rushes out in between groans and moans. 

You can only moan and bring  your ass back to him. 

“Daddy, you feel so good”, you shrill. 

“Fuck, baby, bring that ass to me, sweetheart keep doing that”, he moans.

Sam keeps flicking his tongue, humming, moaning against Bucky’s perineum. 

He is jerking himself hard, he stops when he feels he is too close. He walks on his knees a little so that he can stand up from Bucky legs. He just looks at sight of you and Bucky ravishing each other.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes”, you babble.

You feel yourself tightening around him.

“Daddy, please, I…”, you scream

“I am close too, honey”, Bucky breathes out. He is going in and out unrelentingly. You come with a strangled high pitched moan. Your whole body shakes with release. 

“Baby, I love you so much, baby, y/n”, he groans, picking his pace up to a new speed. 

Damn!!, you cry out at him going faster. 

You feel his dick twitch 

After a few thrusts, you feel the warmth of his cum inside you and him groaning your name. 

“Wow”, he breathes out. You catch your breaths.

You hum in response, you feel light and relaxed. 

He pulls out, turns you to face him and kisses you. You both smile into your kiss. 

You hug each other tight. 

He runs his hands up and down your back to your ass. 

You breathe him in. You missed this and both of them so much.

You both approach Sam. 

Bucky grabs Sam’s head, kisses him hard, they hug each other,  grope each other, rub against each other. 

They are making out. All tongue, moaning and humming. Bucky kisses his neck and sucks on it to leave a mark. Sam moans and hiss.

“That was so hot, baby boy”, Sam tells Bucky out of breath.

“It was so good, you under me and our baby girl fucking herself on me”, Bucky responds out of breath. They both look at you. 

Your mouth waters and your pussy throbs, watching them. 

“How about we take this to the bed ?”, Sam asks, his voice raspy, deep. 

You look at him. He is rock hard. You bite your lip and you nod. 

“Yes, sir”, you answer him.

You exit the shower.

You all take your towels and dry in a rush, leaving the towels there on the counter.

In the bedroom, you kiss Sam, all tongue, your hand on his ass, his hands on your ass. 

You are both touching and groping each other. 

You kiss his neck then his chest, leaving a trail of kisses until you drop to your knees.

Bucky was enjoying the show, laying on the bed. One hand behind his head and the other jerking himself off slow.

“What do you want, pretty baby ? Sam looks down at you, grabbing his dick. 

“ Use my mouth, sir”, you look at him with doe eyes.

He taps his dick on your lips.

“Open up”, he says. You open your mouth wide.

He goes slowly into your mouth, “Fuuuck”, he rasped.  

Then he pulls slow, “Goddamn”, he rasped.

You choke on his dick over and over again.You bobbed your head up and down, gagging

You jerk the part you can’t reach.

 He groans “Shiiiit”,feeling the back of your throat. 

“That’s it, honey,  deep just like that, you are so good with that mouth, Bucky encourages while stroking himself.

You take Sam out your mouth and lick his head full of pre cum with kitten licks. 

“Ahh,baby” he rushes out.

He fucks your mouth without mercy.

He stops. 

He sits on the edge of bed, he wiggles his finger to come to him. “Crawl to me, like the good girl you are”, he demands. “Yes sir”, you answer, crawling to him. 

You reach to him and he grabs the back of your neck. Driving your head up and down the way he saw fit. He threw his head back, lips parted, eyes to the ceiling, he was breathing heavy, moaning, hissing, groaning. 

Bucky crawled next to Sam and kiss him.

He whispers to his ear: “She sucking your dick good, sweetheart?, I know she is good at that, that mouth of hers does wonders. You keep sucking him, taking a breather here and there and going back to business.

You hear what Bucky says and Sam moaning, your pussy feels wetter.

Bucky grabs your head, making your head go up and down to his pace, while kissing Sam’s neck .

Sam nods fast, moaning.

Bucky pulls your head off Sam's dick. 

“Baby girl, come up, put that ass on daddy’s face”, Bucky rasped. 

You put your ass on his face and you're facing his dick, you stroke it and he hisses. 

“Fuck you’re dripping wet, you like sucking dick that much, pretty girl?” Bucky asks you then lick your slick. 

You mewl; “Yes, Daddy” 

“Come here, Sammy, give our girl what she needs”, Bucky tells Sam. 

Sam crawls to where you are.

He is on his knees, legs a little wide, each on each side of Bucky’s head. 

You are your hands and knees and Bucky is under you. 

Sam lines up with your entrance and thrust in. 

“Sir!!!”,you scream

He rams into you, he spanks your ass cheek. 

You jolt and whine; Sir, that feels so good, spank me, please”. 

He spanks you hard, you feel your ass tingling and burning. You hiss.

Sam fucks into you, groaning, moaning, breathing heavy. 

He grips your hips hard and thrust into you fast, while bringing your ass to him. 

You let out high pitch moans and groans. 

“That’s it baby, I wanna hear you, I’ve missed those sounds”, He says driving into you with force. 

Bucky is under seeing the connection between Sam and you. 

He scoots a little and he is under your clit.

He licks fast on your clit, humming, while jerking himself off. 

His licks, the vibration of his hum, Sam unforgiving pace.

It is too much. 

“Sir, daddy, I’m…”, you cannot not even finish your sentence. 

Sam levels a brutal slap to your ass. 

“You are going to take what we give, baby”, Sam grits out, still fucking you non stop. 

You mewl: “yes, sir”.

You feel him so deep, you close your eyes. 

You scream: “Fuck, sir, Fuck”. 

He yanks you by the hair. You hiss. 

“Who am I, naughty girl ?”, He grits out,

His bottom lip between his teeth, He is going somehow deeper. 

“YOU’RE MY SIR !!'', you scream so hard, the Ihumann would finally hear a human voice for the first time in their life. 

Bucky still licking you, Sam yanking your hair and his pace. 

“GOD!!, you scream, you feel your insides tighten hard and clear liquid comes out.

You come gushing out. 

Sam pulls out and he wets his fingers with your juices.

“Fucking sweet”, he states and hums at the taste. He stares at how you squirt and Bucky laps it all up.

Bucky catches it with his mouth. He jerks himself faster. He comes with a moaned version of y/n , Sammy. 

You grab the sheets hard. Your comfort is Bucky warm abs against your face. Your face has Bucky cum.

Sam thrust in hard again. 

“Baby, squeeze me like that, it’s so fucking goood”, Sam rushes out of breath. 

He is going at it, fast, demanding. 

You mewl, moan and groan. Your eyes closed and lips parted.

He keeps the pace and cries out “SHIT!!!, He groans: “Oh, my God”. 

His eyes close, breathing ragged, he comes with a long, loud moan. 

He empties inside you. 

Sam pulls out, taking deep breaths. He lays on his side of the bed.

You catch your breath, resting your head on Bucky’s abs. your ass is still up. 

Your pussy pushes all the cum out and Bucky laps it all up.

“Ahh fuuckk”, you sigh, you are so sensitive, feeling Bucky's tongue slowly eating you out. 

“You taste so good together”, Bucky says savoring you and Sam.

You scoop Bucky’s cum and lap it all up. 

You stand up from him and go to your spot in the bed. The middle.

Bucky goes to your right and puts his head on your shoulder. 

Sam puts his head on your other shoulder too.  

There is a comfortable silence. 

You all look at the ceiling in a sort of trance. 

Your bodies are still vibrating from the pleasure. 

You remember this feeling. You felt like this, when you were together for the first time. 

You smile and start singing: 

Do you remember when we fell in love?

We were young and innocent then

Do you remember how it all began?

It just seemed like heaven, so why did it end?

Sam followed with: 

“Do you remember, back in the fall?

We'd be together all day long

Do you remember us holding hands?

In each other's eyes, we'd stare

Tell me” 

You sign all together: 

Do you remember the time?

When we fell in love

Do you remember the time?

When we first met, girl

Do you remember the time?

(Oh, I)

When we fell in love

Do you remember the time?

Sam continue singing: 

Do you remember how we used to talk?

You know, we'd stay on the phone at night till dawn

Do you remember all the things we said?

Like, "I love you so, I'll never let you go

Bucky sings, horrible out of key; 

Do you remember, back in the spring?

Every morning, birds would sing

Do you remember those special times?

They'll just go on and on

In the back of my mind

You laugh after that. 

“What made you remember “remember the time”?”, Bucky asks you 

“ We were having the party in the  basement, the Ihumann were watching the video and dancing to that, when I went looking out for you’, you answer to him. ‘It is amazing how they catch on moves so damn fast, they dance the same as the video dancers, like outstanding and it is a little bit eerie like Jouuma was like a reincarnation of Michael.” You add on. 

“Okay, space nerd”, Sam teases you. Bucky chuckles at that. 

You glare at them

They face you. Sam faces you with his weight on his elbow so that he can see your profile. Bucky does the same. 

“I am sorry, y/n”, Sam starts.

“You were right, I was losing my sense self, we need to help the most vulnerable,

 We will find another solution for the Kree and the Skrulls and the Ihummann. 

You show me what I should be doing. When you can’t compromise, don't. 

I am sorry for holding you back. I just want to be your protector, just like I was once ,but I know things are different now. It just cost me. You have been through a lot and I wanted to save you from all that and I couldn’t. I will change. I will ask you what you need instead of assuming, I am sorry, baby ”, he states and he chokes a little sob on the last part.

“Aww, Sammy, you and Buck are the people that make me feel safe and loved. It's just that I’m not in college anymore. A lot happened and I’m not the same person but I love you and how you two always are there despite our differences ” you say while sitting up against the headboard.

You let him put his head on your chest. 

“ I am sorry, I sidetrack the mission but it is just that when I see something go south, I can’t ignore it”, I am sorry I kicked you out of my office like that. I will try my best not to lose my temper like that again”, you apologize to them.  

“You are right, y/n, It is a horrible plan, we need to have some alternative and I know it is in those chips. I am sorry for being an ass to you in space and I am sorry for making you feel bad to save the Ihumman, like Sammy said we want to protect you and we feel we have fail at that, when everyone were against you for this relationship, the scandal, the kidnapping, you getting your powers  but you are right you are different but at the same baby we fell in love with and I love you and I promise not to be overbearing”, Bucky apologizes. He puts his head on your chest too.  

“You were right in saving them, I was so far removed, that was me and Steve in the 40s.

If he didn’t disobey orders to save me constantly, I wouldn't be here”, Bucky states 

You kiss his head. 

" Buck, it's so good that you think that way, I am thankful for you and Sammy, you two did what you can, you received a lot of backlash too . You are enough more than enough ",you say to him, rubbing his back.

“You still owe me a fucking car, asshole, you rip my fucking steering wheel”, Sam tease Bucky with faux offence. 

Bucky sighed  “I am sorry, Sammy for damaging your car and rip the steering wheel”, Bucky apologizes

You all laugh. 

“What are we going to do if we do not find anything on those chips”, You worry. 

“Hey baby you are one of the most brilliant minds there is out there , you will figure it out and we will  be right here by your side”, Sam reassures you and Bucky nods in agreement.

“Let that grey matter of yours, rest a minute, honey pie”, Bucky said to you while bopping your nose.

“You are right and I love you so much”, you answer.

“We love you so much, pretty baby, Sam answered you and kissed your cheek”. 

You all went to the bathroom and shower for real this time. They were kisses here and there. 

You brush your teeth.

Sam grabs the cocoa butter and he moisturizes you and Bucky then moisturizes Sam. 

Bucky wraps the night scarf around your head for your hair with a good knot

. Sam changed the covers and put the dirty covers in the dirty clothes basket. 

You change into your PJS. You wore a silk camisole. Bucky some loose shorts, no underwear and no shirt.  Sam wore some sweatpants  and no shirt.

You kissed each other goodnight and slept tangled with each other. 

[beautifulstarsbeastars]

Melon’s Father Idea (Backstory)

After thinking about it, I decided to expand/play with Melon’s father again-regarding his backstory. This backstory idea would not be relevant to Melon’s Redemption as Melon’s father (known as Gary in the fanfic) only appears once (in this next upcoming chapter) but it could work in the AU where he escapes the apartment and takes Melon with him (he has the same name in this fic).

I got inspired by Bojack Horseman for this idea (if you haven’t watched that show, prepare for spoilers!): In Bojack, we see a chain of generational trauma starting from Bojack’s mom (Beatrice Horseman), which is then given to Bojack and then he gives it to Sarah Lynn and (to some extent) Hollyhock. 

Now, going back to Beastars, Melon’s father says this in chapter 189: 

“Typical for women, huh? They want to be loved and see things like a dream.” And then: “It’s exhausting.” This could be him referring to Melon’s mother but it could also be an opinion of women in general. 

Then, he says this: 

“Children are just cruel blessings.” This time, he’s referring to Melon and (possibly) to parenthood. 

Again, this could just be how he see’s he leopard partner and hybrid son or his opinion on relationships and parenthood, but what if it’s deeper than that? What if these views came from somewhere else?

Ok, here’s my thought! For this, we’ll refer to Melon’s father as Gary:

Gary was born to two gazelles. Something happened to his mother (she either died or left his father) and was not involved in her son’s life while his father was a bigoted, sexist, alcoholic who had a deep hatred for his wife for leaving (or dying) which extended to all female animals and to Gary’s own older sister.

The thought of Gary having a sister is still being played with but I’m keeping it for now because of the impact it would have on Gary and may play a part in why he might have left. Also, if Gary’s mother died in childbirth his father might have blamed him for her death but if his parents just divorced than he might blame both Gary and his sister for his wife leaving. This would later shape how Gary is as a parent himself.

Gary’s older sister is the one that takes care of him when he’s a child due to their father constantly being drunk and being emotionally and mentally abusive towards them. His sister (who I will refer to as ‘Misty’ here), would also get a job so she and Gary would have food in the house and also cook and clean but nothing Misty does is ever enough for their father, who constantly degrades her. He never actually physically hurts Misty but him taking out his hatred of her mother on her eventually drives Misty to taking her own life. Leaving Gary to deal with his father alone. 

Skip ahead to when he met Melon’s mother (referring to her as Cassia like in my fics): Gary becomes a bitter young adult, who struggles with his own alcohol and substance abuse and, unconsciously, internalized his father’s beliefs about female animals and of parenthood. He also has depression and has never gotten over his sister’s death and blames his father for it to an extent. He isn’t in a good place mentally or rationally and, while it might not be how he and Cassia met or lead to them having a relationship, it might have been a factor in it. 

When Cassia gets pregnant, Gary is reminded by his own parents relationship and becomes worried that he might be just like his own father and treat Cassia and Melon the same way his father treated him and Misty. This fear could have been what lead to him leaving them, thinking that it would be better if he wasn’t there.

Obviously this is before we factor in the actual relationship between Melon’s parents so this idea may be changed or added to later. This idea would not work in Melon’s Redemption as, while it could explain why Melon’s father left him and his mother and why he talked about them the way he did, it would not excuse the fact that he sold Melon to the Hybrid Project. 

This idea would likely be seen in the AU where he and Melon escape together.

To be added to/continued later!

[cle1024]

dead loss | hhj

member: hwang hyunjin 

genre: fluff, angst 

summary: life was an exhausting and pointless ride for hyunjin, but you managed to make it a little more bearable while you could.  delinquent!au, friends to lovers!au, coming of age!au 

warnings: smoking, alcoholism, swearing, violence, death, drug-dealing (no usage), lots of illegal stuff my dudes 

disclaimer: there are ships within this story. i am NOT trying to force these relationships on any of the boys, nor am i trying to use them as anything other than an aspect of the story. these are purely fictitious scenarios and relationships, i feel the need to add this disclaimer because some people take ships w a y too far (insisting they’re real to the point where it’s uncomfortable and borderline fetishising) and i don’t want to come across as one of those people. 

a/n: anyway i’m gonna go disappear for another 5+ months 

Life in a small town was peaceful in the outsider’s perspective ― everyone knew everyone, there was a strong sense of community and unbreakable bond built on reliability and trust. People who believed that shit clearly didn’t live in a small town, or at least not your small town. No, in your hometown everyone was a stranger. If you look at them for too long ― alternatively referred to as “looking at them the ‘wrong way’” ― they wouldn’t hate to get aggressive, borderline violent or just straight up violent. There was no trust in this town, how can you trust a stranger? It was a shady and hopeless area that people struggled to escape. Many of you have accepted your future, stuck in this abysmal hellhole, but some things just aren’t easy to come to terms with―especially when you hate the future you’ll inevitably be trapped in. 

A slight metallic scent tainted the air as Hyunjin leaned against the wooden planks of the treehouse, a huff passing his busted lips. He had managed to drag his sorry ass back to the rickety treehouse after sending a simple text to you ― something optimistic and charming: “im going to fucking die. treehouse” ― in the hopes you would come fix his wounds. That’s what you always did after Hyunjin had been in a fight, regardless of whether he asked you to or not. Though he had to ask you this time, even if it was the ass crack of dawn, because he genuinely thought he was going to die any second now. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d used all of his energy in the fight, his wounds bled too much, or the result of not sleeping in thirty-seven hours. Hyunjin didn’t think he really cared about dying, everyone has to go at some point, but he did care about whether he would be in pain or alone when he died―and right now, he was both. There was a faint pattering of footsteps in the dewy grass, growing louder until they were gently working their way up the wooden ladder to the treehouse. Hyunjin opened his eyes lazily, watching as you pulled yourself up and into the structure. He smirked slightly and wheezed out a chuckle, “on a scale of one to ten, how dateable am I right now?” You stared at him blankly, scanning over his injuries before huffing slightly and shifting towards him. 

“Losing fights isn’t a personality trait, dipshit.” 

“Yeah, but it makes me seem like a bad boy, huh?” Hyunjin chuckled hoarsely at your immediate eye roll, tilting his head to give you better access to his bleeding face wounds. He winced softly as pressure was applied to the bloody mark on the top of his cheek, a fresh bruise blooming under his soft skin. He couldn’t see all of his wounds, but he could undeniably feel them. His cheek was bruised and bleeding, his bottom lip was busted with blood seeping into his mouth occasionally―he was just loving that―while there were numerous pains to his abdomen, mainly in his ribs and lower stomach. 

“Jeez, you need to stop picking fights you can’t win,” the corners of his lips twitched upwards momentarily, a tinge of smugness painting the action. 

“This is the prime of my life, darling.” 

You scoffed at his excuse, “yeah, you’ll only be young once but you’ll be stupid for the rest of your life, Hwang.” 

“Touche,” he shrugged nonchalantly as your eyes widened in mock offence. 

“Oh, do you want to bleed some more?” The two of you chuckled at the threat, though Hyunjin’s sounded much more breathless and painful than yours did.  

“Nah, only other people are allowed to hurt me. How else would I get your attention at night?” Hyunjin’s comment elicited another eyeroll and soft smile from you. He knew you’d drop everything to be with him, regardless of how sleep-deprived it made you, because that’s what friends did. 

Hyunjin is a delinquent, down to the very definition: “(typically of a young person) tending to commit crime, particularly minor crime.” He does that a fair bit, stealing from different shops run by tired and aging people who can’t be arsed to chase after the mischievous teenager. He smokes, despite his youth, but won’t take a swig of alcohol ― something Jisung often laughs at him for, but that boy was a borderline alcoholic. The tall boy also happened to be involved in fights at least one a fortnight, you sometimes have the displeasure of witnessing them and almost always have the duty of taking care of him afterwards―no one else was willing to do it. You don’t approve of Hyunjin’s lifestyle, frankly you never have, but you know he has his reasons. Besides, he’s a stubborn boy and wouldn’t change even if you tried to force him. He’s reckless and usually impulsive, which became undeniably obvious when he was fifteen, stood in front of a train until the last second so he could dodge it, all with the undying support of his former enemy Jisung ― “You got this, man!” 

“All he’s got is a one-way ticket to the afterlife,” you’d deadpanned, earning a scoff from the other boy. 

“As Teddy Duchamp once said, ‘train dodge, dig it’.” 

“Yeah, but he didn’t stay around long enough to dodge it, nor is he a real person!” 

At the end of the day, it really didn’t matter how Hyunjin acted, he would still be your best friend. He’d filled that position since the two of you were kids, it came naturally when you lived one street away from each other and had fathers with a similar friendly relationship―until work got the best of them. Now they don’t have enough time for their children, let alone each other. They differed in some ways: your father harbours expectations far too high for you, meaning he spends most of his free time reprimanding you for not trying hard enough, whereas Hyunjin’s father was always busy and didn’t really care for his son. As a result, Hyunjin spent most of his time away from home, locked inside that treehouse his father built for him and his childhood friends ― many of them had moved on to other things: moved away, became too good for him, or died, but you and Minho always stuck around, later adding Jisung to the bunch when he and Hyunjin outgrew their petty mutual hatred. Smoking, playing cards or watching scenery while he played with a lighter, it was enough for Hyunjin. 

Sometimes you think about Jisung and Hyunjin’s weird friendship, it’s an evolution you all laughed about from time to time. When the pair were younger, the age of twelve during middle school to be exact, they harboured a burning mutual hatred that continuously burdened their mutual friends ― namely upperclassman Lee Minho; at least, he was the only one of the bunch who stuck around. There was an incident where the pair were ready to throw hands at one another, but Minho and some of his older friends stepped in and told them to squash it, even if momentarily. After Jisung aided Hyunjin in a fight with some older boys from the next town over, the two sparked a short-lived ‘frenemies’ type of relationship ― of course the older boys weren’t scared of two kids who had only just figured out the ego-boost of developing muscle, they were more fearful of Jisung’s older brother as they knew damn well how ruthless he could be; they didn’t want the risk of dealing with someone from the same genes, but Hyunjin and Jisung maintained it was their intimidation that warded the boys off. Jisung initially brushed off Hyunjin’s thanks, but there was a definite shift in their relationship: their sharp insults became sarcastic remarks that garnered a teasing response after the other, then after one incident they were friends. Hyunjin never told you the specifics of the incident and you never pushed, but it was essentially Hyunjin paying back Jisung for saving his ass ― though you later found out the only threat to Jisung at the time was himself. Regardless, Jisung and Hyunjin had discovered their compatibility and Minho had never been happier to see drama fizzle out. He wasn’t a fan of such petty disagreements, “all problems can be solved in this world, either with a fist or verbal expression.” 

“Are you recommending violence?” 

“It’s still honest communication.” 

Lee Minho was truly one of a kind―all three of them were, but it was their varying ability to believe in themselves that set them apart the most. 

The Hwang boy was smart, but he had no faith in himself. At the age of fifteen he’d already accepted that he wouldn’t go far academically, telling you “I’ll become one of those tradies that gets wolf whistled when I’m trying to do my job, and no one will say a damn thing because I’m a male,” you could remember him taking a short drag of the nicotine stick, “that’s my inevitable future.” That was one of the many ways you contrasted Hyunjin. You wanted to make your father finally accept you as his child again, and the only way to do that seemed to be success ― but at this point you weren’t sure what that looked like in his eyes; everything you perceived as a success was a comical failure to him. You didn’t smoke ― you tried once when you were fourteen and found it dreadful ― and you certainly didn’t shoplift chocolate bars or ‘train dodge’ like Hyunjin, but you still had your downfalls. Rather, you bury yourself in work you couldn’t understand, got pent up over the possibility of failure, and then turned it all in like nothing ever happened―nothing’s wrong. There was a lot wrong, Hyunjin and you both knew it, but neither ever voiced it. All you wanted was to make your father proud, but you always wanted to run away from this godforsaken town and never come back. Hyunjin wanted you to stay around, the kid couldn’t afford to lose another person in his life, but he knew it was your choice at the end of the day―you had to do what was best for you. It was just difficult to accept. It was like life had kicked Hyunjin and rolled all over him, yet you managed to bring a tiny little spark of life in his soul, something that brought him to carry on. You were his rock, you understood him more than he understood himself most of the time. He loved you, not romantically, but in the way people who have no one else who get it love each other, you know? 

He realised he loved you in that way when he was thirteen, after he had his first existential debate with you ― it became a monthly tradition after that: one night you’d silently climb into the treehouse with puffy eyes and a red-tinged face, and he’d never question it because he knew you’d tell him it was fine. Then you’d wonder what happens after death and where you went. Hyunjin had always been firm on the idea there was a Heaven and Hell due to his long standing religious beliefs, and he always assumed he was going to Hell, but those midnight talks always made him realise just how unsure he was about everything ― he didn’t know what or who to believe, but he eventually decided he probably didn’t need to. 

Hyunjin realised he had fallen in love with you when you were sixteen, after Jisung and Minho had convinced the two of you to spend your Saturday doing an ‘adventurous hike’ with them ― you didn’t know it at the time, but the two had found out some pricey drugs had been dropped in the woods, and neither of them were in a situation to refuse the money that would come with selling those substances. The two boys were energetically bounding ahead of you and the tallest boy, Hyunjin and yourself dawdling on the train tracks to avoid any shattered glass mixed in with the gravel surrounding the rails, trying your best to avoid being cut through the thin and worn soles of your shoes. Hyunjin squinted at the sunlight, distracted by his own thoughts and daydreams, too distracted to realise Jisung and Minho had stopped dead in his tracks. He bumped into the older of the two, startling him back to reality with confusion, “dude, what the fu―” his voice trailed off as he watched five men ― as in full grown, adult, ‘probably from a gang’ type of men ― snarl at the four of you. Though, their eyes seemed to be trained on Minho. 

“Lee Minho. You said you wouldn’t come around here anymore, didn’t you?”  

For the first time in his life, Hyunjin saw genuine fear on Minho’s frame as he shifted his eyes and gulped softly; clearly they’d made a grave mistake. 

“Y-yeah,” for you, that was the moment you became alarmed. Lee Minho, the self-proclaimed ‘King of Confidence’, doesn’t stutter, “I know, man. I-I must’ve lost track of where we were, you won’t see me around here anymore. I’m not here to cause you any trouble, nothin’ like that,” he spoke rapidly, desperation seeping through his usually nonchalant tone. One of the men eyed the four of you suspiciously, straining his vision on you for far too long―Hyunjin sensed it, pulling you out of his line of vision with a glare. He was always one to protect his friends, reckless enough to put himself in danger to do so, it was nothing new for any of you. 

“I better not see you around these parts anymore, Lee. You got it?” Minho nodded firmly, “good. Now go,” the man waved his hand in a dismissive motion, “run along with your friends.” 

To Hyunjin, Jisung and yourself, that was your que to turn around and never look back; but Minho knew these men, you didn’t. The oldest knew it would never be that simple, and that became evident when he saw the shining tip of a dagger being pulled from one of their pockets. The four of you reacted fast, running purely on fear; Minho frantically pushed whoever he could reach, without looking, in the opposite direction, urging you to run as fast as you could to get the fuck out of there. Hyunjin grabbed your wrist securely, tugging you in the other direction and refusing to slow down for a second, even when he heard Minho and Jisung yelling distantly. Your legs slowed down slightly until the both of you stopped in your tracks, much to the dismay of Hyunjin. 

“Hyunjin, we have to go back.” 

“They can handle themselves, Y/N.” 

“We can’t just leave them!” You pleaded, gesturing to the distant figures of your two friends. 

“And I can’t lose you!” Hyunjin yelled back, startling you into a momentary silence. It was built on uncertainty, confusion and hung heavily in the air for a few seconds, until the sound of approaching footsteps, the sound of frantic running to be exact, and Minho’s frantic yells of “move your fucking asses! Run!” broke the tranquility. 

You didn’t find out what Jisung and Minho had argued about until you were twenty-one years old and attending Minho’s funeral: “When I was sixteen, he was going to risk his life to save myself and my two other friends. We yelled at each other; I couldn’t leave him behind to get beat up or blatantly killed by the people who confronted us, but he couldn’t let me in harms way. I only found out why he cared so much and risked his everything, all the time, three years after it happened. But, that’s a secret we all promised to take to the grave.” 

All four of you promised to keep that secret ― you’d all promised Minho that you wouldn’t out him, have his parents disown him during or after his life, and you all took that to the grave. Jisung lost the ability to love romantically when he was twenty-one; he’d given it all to Minho and allowed it to be buried with him. He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. 

You were officially eighteen and two months, not that the months meant anything. Both you and Hyunjin were anxious about turning nineteen, yet he didn’t want to voice it and destroy the wall he’d built around a certain part of himself―his fears. Being nineteen meant he had to act like an adult: get a job, support his family until his parents found out he had enough money to survive on his own and kick him out, settle down and have his whole life figured out. Nineteen would mean the death of his youth: no more skipping chemistry because it was insufferable or only showing up for woodwork classes, no more train dodging because it was ‘immature’, no more stealing or the shop owners would actually make an effort to ensure his actions had repercussions since he was no longer a delinquent teen. The worst of all was the thought of losing his friends; he already saw Minho significantly less than he used to due to his two jobs ― a barber during the daylight and a bartender during the hours between ― Jisung would probably continue secretly writing poetry ― though the three of you secretly knew he did it ― and work as a truck driver, or something, to escape the dullness of your hometown for a little bit. You, Y/N the bright one, would probably go on to do great things with your life and be added to the list of friends he lost due to not being good enough anymore. Hyunjin wasn’t sure whether you or Jisung felt the same ― Minho excluded since he was already passed nineteen, with Jisung endearingly referring to him as ‘hag’ ― and a part of him didn’t want to know because he didn’t really want to think about it. Of course, that didn’t stop it from being the only thing on his mind twenty-four-seven. Hyunjin groaned inwardly; losing friends. You were just a friend. Hyunjin couldn’t help but scold himself. He could steal from stores without a second thought, stand in front of trains without fear, yet he couldn’t admit his feelings to you. Then again, your friendship spanned across most of his life, and losing that would mean he would lose you. And, frankly, you were the only thing that mattered to him in life. His parents neglected him, other friends had abandoned him over time or just failed to be there for him, but you never left. You stayed, even when you became far more intelligent than him and practically radiated potential. No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t dare risk losing that. He couldn’t lose you, he’d told you that before ― although, when he thought about it, and he absolutely thought about it, he’d lose you regardless of what he did or didn’t say. 

But, he had to put those thoughts aside. It was a fresh summer, after all, and there was supposedly no room for sadness in summer. There was only room for happiness, laughter, good vibes, getting high on the good vibes, or just getting high and conforming to the sickly summertime syndrome people were often infected with. Thus, Hyunjin had tried to spend the new season conforming to such a syndrome―excluding the fight where he was beaten within an inch of his life and had you fix him up, that probably didn’t fit the mold of a fun summer. It’d been successful to an extent ― the local pool had far too many people, including neglectful mothers attempting to flirt with the underage lifeguard Kim Sunwoo, and the beach was littered with shattered glass, plastic and cigarette ash mixed amongst the sand ― but the weather was still nice, and Hyunjin did play a soccer game in the park last weekend. That was it, though. The rest of his time was spent mowing the lawns of other houses for some extra cash, pocketing cherry lollipops and dealing decks of fifty-two cards for games that would be inevitably cheated in―like you were now. Hyunjin, Jisung and Minho were in a heated game of Go Fish, a cigarette dangling from Hyunjin’s plush lips and intoxicating the midday air, while you half-focused on the game in amusement, half-focused on the dusty comic book you’d flicked your way through. It’d been buried under many other prints of various comics, all neglected as time and puberty had lowered your interest in the bright illustrations. You couldn’t remember ever reading this one though, it was probably one of the rare collections Hyunjin refused to share through his childhood. A huff passed the lips of the oldest as he lost yet again, mumbling something about disrespectful youths and how they had obviously cheated. Jisung snickered, earning a wack in the gut from an agitated Minho. He scooted over to sit beside you, reading over your shoulder in an attempt to show his disinterest in the card game ― though it really just made him look like a sore loser, and it was quite clear he had zero interest in the childish story you held. A frustrated groan sounded as he threw his head back against the wall, as dramatic as ever. 

“I want to go outside,” he complained. 

Hyunjin scoffed, “there’s the door,” gesturing to the entrance with sass. 

“No,” Minho hissed and narrowed his eyes. Man, he was really spending too much time with those cats, “I want to go outside outside. Like, camping or something.” 

Jisung threw his hands up in defeat, “well, why didn’t you say so!” He exclaimed in exasperation, “I’ve got everything you need to go camping! No one in my house uses it.” 

Oh, Jisung’s house. What a nightmare that was―or, rather, looked like. It was dilapidated with a rusty truck parked in the driveway, a large shed in the back acting as storage for years of hoarding, of course there’d be something for camping in there. Jisung had once told you that most of the stuff in the shed belonged to past owners who never returned to get it and he’d, for some reason, seen it as a tradition that has to be carried through each owner. You didn’t press the idea or criticise it, the boy seemed really excited about it after all. 

“Welcome to my shed of wonders!” Jisung introduced. It was so, so, dusty. You were almost certain some of the junk within the metal sheathing dated back to the 19th century, maybe the 18th if you really analysed the dilapidated furniture and crumbling artefacts. Jisung hummed in thought, “there’s gotta be a tent in here somewhere…” He strolled into the shed, seeming to know exactly what to move and how far. The rest of you stared at the collection in awe―you kind of understood why Jisung prided himself on the contents of his shed, some of those things would make a good buck on Antiques Roadshow and keeping them must’ve given Jisung some sort of positive emotional release, perhaps a feeling of “I have a get rich quick scheme, I’m just choosing to be poor”. Probably made him feel better when people gave him crap for not being able to afford cool toys as a kid. You’d never seen the torment Jisung received, nor did he ever desire to speak about it, but Minho had been vocal numerous times in his distaste for the way the younger was treated. Jisung had a heart of gold, something Hyunjin could acknowledge even when they didn’t get along. He was the kind of boy who deserved nothing but greatness; he was destined for greatness. You could always pray the town didn’t suck the potential out of him, as it did to most others, but you knew those kinds of prayers go unanswered. Jisung’s epiphanic “a-ha!” derailed your thought train, your eyes shifting to see the brunette male pulling a large tent from one of the many, almost overflowing, storage units. 

Hyunjin squinted his eyes in confusion, “how did you even find that?” 

“It looks a hundred years old,” Minho added. 

The youngest male rolled his eyes at their comments, dusting off the green tent. An excited smile graced his face as he turned to face the three of you, “alright, where should we go?” 

The sun beat down on you, a light sheen of sweat glistening over your burning skin. How long had it been? Thirty minutes, an hour, two hours? You hadn’t a clue. The last time you ventured down railway tracks you ended up running in fear of men who had a vendetta against Minho―for reasons you’d soon find out. The oldest had evidently learned his lesson, guiding everyone in the opposite direction and away from any men with reasons to stab him for walking in their ‘territory’. Hyunjin dawdled beside you, eyes trailing the railway the four of you walked along. Minho was leading the group, Jisung chewing his ear off in a conversation that probably didn't interest the older, something about the spirits in the woods you were approaching. You could barely make out the faint scoff that passed Minho’s lips, but the younger seemed to hear it clear as day. 

“I’m serious! If we don’t get murdered in our tents then we get murked by demons in these damn woods!” 

“Is there an outcome where we don’t die on this trip?” Hyunjin questioned with amusement, effectively closing the younger’s mouth and halting more words from spilling out. Minho rolled his eyes at the short bickering, trudging through the forest with an impatient yell, “come on! I want to get there before the sun sets.” It was a dark and dank environment, the air felt musty and thick around your lungs. Trees were overgrown, roots seeping along the dirt trail and serving as tripping hazards. Light dimmed under the cavern of green leaves, yet shadows still managed to dance in the slivers of golden rays. It was tranquil, but also unnerving. In retrospect, it was probably the childhood tales of drug deals gone wrong that put you on edge. Even if it was pure fiction, naive belief was enough to trick your mind into feeling unsafe, watched, hunted. If you ventured alone your fear would have pushed you to the other side of the trail at a much faster pace than you currently maintained, but, of course, you weren’t without company. The aura of discomfort and fear gently wafted in the air ― stronger from the likes of yourself and Jisung, though minimal to non-existent from the two other males. Those two had been fearless since you met them―Hyunjin stood in front of trains for an adrenaline rush! Then again, you weren’t entirely sure as to whether that was fearlessness or recklessness. They were one and the same to that boy. 

The group passed through the forest until you found a clearing, a large field with a distant fence to halt you from further adventuring. It appeared to be the outskirts of town, past where anyone would travel for purposes other than hiking or illegal business. Hyunjin stood still with his hands rested on his hips, observing the area, “oh, this’ll do. This’ll do just fine.” 

Your eyes rolled at the antics of your best friend, trust Hyunjin to say something straight out of an 80s movie―at least, it sounded like it would be. Jisung strolled ahead, hot on the heels of Hyunjin as they ventured through the long grass. Minho eyed the ground suspiciously, hesitance floating through his orbs before mumbling, “there better not be any snakes around here.” His words clearly weren’t as quiet as he had hoped, as Jisung stumbled away from the grass with a sharp gasp at the announcement. A huff passed Hyunjin’s lips at the other boys’ dramatics, causing you to shift an eyebrow in question―he had no right to be judgemental, he was the most dramatic of all. 

“Chill out, you buffoons. There’s short grass ahead, we’ll set up there,” well, that made sense. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Jisung stumbled to his feet and worked to catch up with Hyunjin’s footsteps. 

The process of setting up a tent had been… difficult, to say the least ― “Jisung, how the fuck do we set this up?” “Just read the instructions?” “They’re in Russian!” ― though the four of you eventually managed to successfully pitch the tent. Though, in all honesty, the sun had started to set by the time it was standing. That was at least an hour ago. Now, you lay still in your sleeping bags and mumbled descriptions of distant memories and under-developed universal theories. 

“Hyunjin, move your irritatingly long legs so they’re resting somewhere other than my feet,” Minho grumbled. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Your mind wandered back to the adventures of that day, dawdling across train tracks and praying none of the smoking vehicles came running up behind you. The memory struck you like lightning; you remembered the time you dawdled down the wrong train tracks and ran for your life. A slight laugh passed your lips at the image of your younger self frantically running, “hey, do you remember when we tried to almost got murked by that gang on the outskirts of town?” Hyunjin mumbled an agreement, a fond smile on his face. Jisung piped up to laugh about how he almost ‘shit his lungs out of his ass’. Although you were able to laugh now, you all knew there was nothing funny about the primal fear you felt in that moment. The fear of the unknown; of death. Silence settled over the four of you momentarily before Minho voiced new information softly. 

“I almost killed one of them.” 

Jisung just about shot up in his sleeping bag, “what?” he exclaimed. 

Minho maintained his characteristic calm composure as he explained, “yeah, it was a few months before we went down there. I was still hanging out with Hongjoong and that gang,” ah, the days of Minho being a gang. They were fond―somewhat fond―memories, “one of them had beat up Mingi, got the wrong guy or something, so Hongjoong and I went after him.” 

In all honesty, you never knew Kim Hongjoong very well, nor did you remember much about him. You were never close with him and he’d moved away before any sort of friendship could bud, but you knew Song Mingi well―rather, you knew of him. He was a bubbly kid, tall and friendly with a goofy smile. There was something about him that exuded innocence and happiness, like he was crafted by embers of the burning yellow ball in the sky. 

“We didn’t mean to get him that bad, but we couldn’t stop ourselves,” Minho mumbled softly, his mind wandering off to a different space as he blurted out the words, “Mingi didn’t do anything.” 

The three of you shared a look before turning back to focus on the oldest, his face blank as his eyes clouded over with thought, concern, nostalgia. Hyunjin cleared his throat awkwardly, “well, it’s in the past now. We learnt to never travel down those tracks again,” he shifted around in his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. 

Jisung had proposed the idea of keeping someone on lookout, claiming he didn’t want to get “fucking murked by a coyote or something”. There was the initial suggestion of taking shifts, but Jisung didn’t seem willing to take up the role and Minho said he was “too old to skip sleep”. Hyunjin didn’t give you a chance before saying he’d stay up all night ― of course he wasn’t actually planning on staying up all night, just until Jisung had knocked out for long enough to be unaware of the lack of surveillance. It didn’t matter, though, you both ended up out there after you tossed and turned for a solid thirty minutes. The wind was howling, the tent thrashing from side-to-side at the sharp movements of air. Hyunjin sighed with discontent, “why didn’t we check the forecast before we left?” A light chuckle passed your chapped lips. 

“Because the forecast is never correct,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your matter-a-fact tone, a slight smile gracing his moonlit features. It was very clear in that moment — and many others, if you were being honest with yourself — why so many girls had thrown themselves at him over the years. All of that started in your first year of school, when a pigtailed girl claimed it was Hyunjin’s neat cursive writing that attracted her, not his cute face—of course that was a crock of shit, it had always been about Hyunjin’s face. It shouldn’t have been, but people were shallow like that. 

His visuals had never crossed your mind, not until your early teenage years at least. You were thirteen when it first struck you, bundled up in sleeping bags in your best friend’s lounge room watching some teen movie. It wasn’t something you focused on, your eyes had drifted to your giggly friend and refused to move. His hair was black, dark eyes curved into crescent moons as he attempted to stifle laughter at the current scene. Skin smooth, blue winter pyjama shirt buttoned up to the collar and a pillow clutched between his arms. With a tilted head, he turned and stared back at you with curiosity, “what is it?” 

You look perfect. “Nothing,” you smiled tightly. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question passed Hyunjin’s lip in a voice of honey and warmth, comforting in the midst of the vicious whipping wind. 

You shrugged slightly as you formulated an excuse, “just the future. What I’ll do after school,” Hyunjin hummed solemnly. He didn’t like talking about the future, mainly because it brought in thoughts of losing everyone and everything he’s ever loved. He didn’t want to think about a world where that happened, even if it was inevitable, though the words manage to spill out before he could catch them. 

“Will I ever lose you?” 

You were dumbfounded. Lose you? Of course he’d never lose you, “how could you ever lose me? I won’t let you, Hwang,” you attempted to brighten the glum atmosphere. 

Picking at his cuticles, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, “I’m not good enough for you, I’ll never be enough for you.” A frown formed on your lips at Hyunjin’s pessimism, eyebrows furrowing in satisfaction and sadness. You never knew he felt so little of himself. 

“Hey,” the word was spoken gently from your lips, hands reaching out to cup Hyunjin’s face and turn him towards you. He still had a scratch on his lip from that last fight he was in, “you are more than you think, Hyunjin. So much more,” the glaze of your eyes held such sincerity and honesty, “you can do anything you want, man,” yet Hyunjin still couldn’t make himself believe you. 

Eyes downcast, “yeah,” he mumbled distantly, “anything.” 

The four of you walked home in a comfortable silence the next morning, accepting it would be the last time any of you felt this free. 

At the age of twenty-one, Jisung became distant. It was understandably so, Minho had been found dead and was buried within a week of the discovery. There was no proper time to grieve about the loss, everyone expected you to go back to work as if nothing had changed—nothing’s wrong. Everything was wrong, so fucking wrong. Jisung and Minho were never ‘official’ because neither of them had the bravery to face discrimination for being something other than straight. You never knew whether Minho was homosexual or bisexual, even pansexual maybe, but it never mattered. All you could wish was that he was happy, at least once, before he was laid to rest. Jisung closed himself off, became a silent and reclusive man who lived on the outskirts of town. He was a truck driver, swinging between different towns before inevitably returning to the one that seemed to have something against him. It sucked the life from him, it took everything from him; he hated that fucking town. You didn’t see him after Minho’s funeral, not in the way friends see each other, at least. Of course you’d spot him in town occasionally, exiting his house or driving back home after weeks away. Yet, you never spoke a word to him. Never said a ‘hi’, never wanted to speak in case it pushed him too far—broke him, if you will. Rather, you let him seclude himself and suffocate in loneliness; if only you didn’t make that foolish mistake. 

When you were twenty-three you bid your goodbyes to Hyunjin, planning to move away and pursue a career that, frankly wouldn’t make you happy, but it would give you enough money to pay rent for a good place. That’s all you really needed, you supposed. Hyunjin bid his last goodbyes with a letter. It was written in his beautiful handwriting, the calligraphy style he liked to brag when he was younger, but seemed to have forgotten about as he emerged into his teenage years — he never forgot, he still prided himself on such perfect penmanship. It was a letter that contained words you never expected your best friend to say, though always secretly hoped to hear. It was a letter that slapped you across the face for being so blind and cowardly. It was a letter about how he fell in love with you, too hard and too fast, and how he always knew you’d be too good for him, one way or another. You hated when Hyunjin put himself down with such words, but you hated knowing that you caused most of them. The boy was incomparable, so unique and one-of-a-kind. There would never be another Hyunjin in your life, never one to take your heart and treat it as his own. Hyunjin was more than he thought. So, so much more. 

“I love you, more than you know. In more ways than a platonic-friendship-type of love. The kind of romantic love that’s, probably, unrequited,” Hyunjin, you foolish boy, your love has never been unrequited. 

Perhaps you were the fool, not Hyunjin, for keeping your mouth shut about your secret attraction for years. Heaving a sigh, your hands folded the letter closed, you were such a fool. 

In your life, you had three great friends that taught you many lessons — many lessons they failed to learn themselves. 

Minho often preached about staying true to who you are, exuding confidence in your identity and being fearless of others. Yet he failed to accept who he was, though that was fair enough in your opinion. He had his own struggles, many struggles, but never wanted to confront them. Minho never wanted to confront, let alone accept, the possibility of being subjectively weak; he struggled under the pressure to conform to masculinity—no weaknesses whatsoever. Gosh, that boy was one of the strongest you knew. One of the kindest, too, a heart of gold, truly. That boy didn’t deserve to die, none of your friends did. 

Jisung often told you to be careful with your feelings, yet easily gave his away to Minho. The boy had always had an eye for detail, noticing the veins in leaves and miniscule dirt stains on a vintage photograph in his shed, but he tended to overlook the bigger ideas. The things that were right in front of him, you supposed. He failed to notice how he gave away his feelings to one person so easily. He never noticed that he left no room for the regrowth or reacquisition of those feelings, but maybe he just didn’t care. Minho made him feel so peaceful and at ease, how could he find it within him to care? 

Hyunjin, where did you start with Hyunjin? Your friend since childhood, your first love, someone you’d never be able to forget—someone you’d never allow yourself to forget. He taught you to be bold, a little reckless to spice up life — though not ‘stand in front of a train’ type of recklessness. He spent years teaching you to overcome your struggles, though you felt as if you failed to tend to his. Of course, he’d never see it that way, but he was head over heels for you. Just as you were for him. The boy had always been talented, insanely so, with perfect handwriting and a unique perspective on the inner workings of life, ambitions and dreams. There was so much potential held inside his body, marked with scars and bruises from the fights he’d had through the years. He’d always told you to never settle for anything less than perfect. Perhaps that’s why he never wanted you to settle for him: he never saw himself as perfect. You wanted him to do the same, go as far as he possibly can to fulfil his limitless potential. But, that didn’t happen—life could never treat him kindly. Hyunjin never made it out of that shitty town. It pained you to think about it — he could’ve been anything, anyone. He had so much potential, yet that place sucked it away and kept him in an iron grip. When you thought about it, you realised none of your friends got lucky like you. One way or another, they all stayed in that town—dead or alive, it didn’t matter, they all remained. Many would’ve seen that as luck being on your side, but without at least one of them by your side—without Hyunjin by your side—what was the point of going? 

Walking back into that town had never felt so eerie. Nothing was the same as you remembered. Visually, nothing changed, yet at the same time everything had changed. You were no longer a young adult searching for opportunities, no longer a teenager stressing over school work, or dragging yourself to the treehouse in the middle of the night to tend to Hyunjin’s wounds. You wondered if that thing was still intact. That’s not why you were back in town, far from it, but something ate away at you. Was your rickety hangout still standing? Or had it fallen apart after all of you left, in more than one way. 

There was no noise coming from within the wooden confines of the treehouse. You were glad it was still there, even if no one used it. It felt like you were running on autopilot, your feet guiding you up the ladder as you opened the hatch to pull yourself into the space. You swore it was bigger than this. Eyes darted around, taking in the old drawings on the walls, outdated comics and dusty packs of cards. Nothing had changed. You gasped, startled, as you made eye contact with another person, sat in a slightly slumped position across from you. The corner of their lip was slightly bloody, a cigarette dangling from the other side. A reminiscent smirk crawled on their lips, it couldn’t be. 

“Long time no see, darling,” he hadn’t changed one bit, “and just in time! You can patch me up before the service.” 

There was a bitterness in his tone, one you could taste on your own tongue as you contemplated the right words to say. It was mockingly cheerful, like he knew everything was falling apart and there was nothing that could stop it ― who are you kidding, that’s exactly what was happening ― “because that’s the only reason people ever return to this town, right? To mourn the ones that’ll never leave.” 

Words couldn’t pass your lips. There was so much you wanted to say: questions, nonchalant agreements, apologies. It was bittersweet, really, to be meeting like this. It was like old times. A bloodied Hyunjin sat against the wall of the treehouse, nonchalant in the pain of being beaten up, fully prepared to be patched up by your delicate, unbruised hands. But everything was different. Minho no longer whinged over losing a card game, Jisung no longer cheated his way to success in said card games. They’d stopped doing that years ago, and it was an activity they could never engage in again. Hyunjin noticed the despair clouding your gaze, guilt etching your face. A frown creasing his face as he caught your train of thought―you had a habit of blaming yourself, feeling guilty about nothing. 

“It feels weird, doesn’t it?” 

You nodded slightly, “almost... wrong.” 

Hyunjin tossed aside the cigarette, crushing it under his shoe before he opened his arms welcomingly. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed him until the moment you crawled into his arms―you missed all of them. All you wanted was to say one last goodbye to Minho, one last goodbye to Jisung. To thank them for everything, tell them how hard they worked, how incredible they were to be around. Fuck, you missed them so much, you couldn’t help it. Tears were already falling and staining Hyunjin’s t-shirt before you could even attempt to keep them in. A solemn sigh passed his lips, hand stroking your hair as a form of agreement. He’d always fantasised about having a solid friend group that lasted into adulthood, then into the elderly ages. A part of him knew it would never end that way, but he didn’t think this would be the outcome of your friendship circle. When he pondered the potential loss of contact he always assumed it would be a result of moving on to better things, better places and people. He couldn’t help but think back to that camping trip; it was the most carefree time in his life. None of you could’ve ever imagined this outcome ― you could imagine moving away and losing contact over time, you couldn’t imagine being pulled apart by something out of your control. You didn’t want to, but who would? The idea of your friends being taken before their time―before you deemed it to be their time―was almost as upsetting as it actually happening. Life and death, it was a torturous cycle for everyone involved. Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut as fear bubbled in his chest, the fear of losing you all over again. He tightened his grip on you, what tragic lives we’ve led. 

“And then there were two.”

[bellamygateoldblog]

THE 100 7X07 LIVEBLOG

Warning: Long. I’m sorry. I was excited.

• First thought, I'm being forced to watch without subtitles & and it might just be me but these actors are impossible to understand on the first listen.

• "The shepherd teaches us that winning the last war brings upon the final evolution of a species" so....aliens? ALIE? Ascending into a 'higher' form of existence meaning either life after death (ALIE style) or these people want to become Gods?

• They "believe in transcendence" so i must be on the right lines.

• Bardo have "different plans" for the two killers. Void!Echo might be cominggggg.

• "Death is life" / "may we meet again" / "death is not the end" — "winning the last war brings upon the final evolution of a species"???? I’ve connected the dots.

• I'm sorry but all this hyper-focus on Clarke and being "The Key to everything" is kinda embarassing me, like 😳 it's just so odd. That this alien cult from another part of the galaxy/universe is fixated on this random teenager born on a space station around Earth. I know, I know it's to do with Becca's tech, but it's still very much sounding like the "super important special protagonist" trope which I hate and until that detail about the code/tech is revealed it will continue to make me rme. LMAO.

• "Rise and shine errand boy" OK MA.

• Indra is out looking for their friends which confirms LGBT wrath squad literally told nobody they were leaving, and since Gaia was kidnapped, there's no news from them at all.

• Emori trying desperately to help Murphy stay out of hell. At first I thought she was reassuring him, but she was explaining why he needs to do these “errands,” because she believes in his ‘vision’ of hell last season.

• "besides [Murphy's] worshipped me for years."

• Memori is the inverse of Bellarke. There, I said it.

• "You don't know me very well-" / "i know you went into that tavern to save a child at great risk to yourself..." is the pretty much the exact same scene as Murphy's with Luna in s4: "you don't know me very well" / "I know you stole medicine to save [a child]..."

• Luna's spirit followed them across the galaxy/universe this season.

• I don't know anything about chess but the fear on Murphy's face when Slim Sheidy moved his Queen makes me think Emori is in danger this season for as long as he's still alive.

• Echo indirectly preaching "love is strength"

• "You don't talk about yourself much and you're a shapeshifter"

• Dude maybe Echo really is getting an arc this season.

• "Bellamy this isn't real" implies she's had to shut “this” down before, and that there's been something between them for a while. And Bellamy literally shut her up with a kiss, telling her and us that she’s being silly. Also, Echo was the one putting it off.

• Tall girlfriend short boyfriend rights!

• The shot of the ring becoming Echo's eye. Oh my GOD.

• "I know you're in pain Echo, I feel it" what a dumb fuck thing to say LMAO what gave it away?????? The way I'm crying right now in front of you??????

• "I'm the monster from Hope's bedtime stories"

• Octavia:

• WE'RE VOCALISING THE PARALLEL NOW HUH?!

• Octavia is telling EVERYONE else what we already knew. The parallel was NEVER to Finn. It was to Octavia. After Lincoln died. TELL EM.

• "I wish I hugged him instead"

• Octecho Murphamy parallel oh jesus.

• Octavia is like "no Murphy Echo! I'm not letting you go until you admit you're not useless! it's not your fault!"

• Octavia telling Echo love is the answer, love is what she needs, not death or violence. Love is strength. Here we go bitches.

• "YOU'RE MY FAMILY TOO"

• !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “YOU’RE ONE OF THE HUNDRED”

• Am i actually right with all these Echo theories i’ve had? I’m feeling so validated.

• It’s a shame none of these scenes will be edited and made into gifsets by fandom the way other Clarke/bellarke/anti-Echo-centred ones have been them with their none-existent Finn ‘parallel’ lmaooooo, because nobody cares for Echo and Octavia.

• Everyone is yelling for Echo. I feel that.

• Diyoza is checking her nails. I feel that too.

• "THAT'S DISHES YOUNG LADY" ajaksjajsjskasjsjdkskdjdj

• I'm so sad we're back in Sanctum😔😔😔

• Emori is fr pregnant.

• Are we really doing a sexism thing, here with Shiedheda and Murphy? I thought those things didn't exist anymore?🤔

• "how you respond to the loss of your Queen will tell me which you are (a leader or a follower)" — I'm going to be unhappy if Emori dies just so Murphy can become a "leader" by the end. Don’t. Especially not after this conversation about “not liking women very much.”

• Well there goes that theory of Hope favouring Murphy from the stories because she was told he was similar to her father. Sigh.

• "I like you John, you amuse me" is a pretty good way of summarising how his character has been used this season.

• "Everyone I ever loved was killed fighting in wars. Some that didn't need to be fought"

• "I LIKE OUR CHANCES" callback.

• Men who?

• "Violence and rage will only destroy your soul"

• “Revenge is a game with no winners” motherly advice vs “They loved people too. Where does it end?” / “it doesn’t end here. I don’t believe in karma” motherly advice.

• These quotes are making me nervous about void!Echo. I hope she gets brought back from the dark eventually. Or makes the dark her bitch.

• This Diyoza-Hope scene looks paralleled to the Octecho one! Thus Echo also wants to "go back to the way things were."

• "They took my mommy away" — Like ‘they’ took Octavia's and Echo's. Two other warrior women in the same group. Clarke dealt with the loss of hers. Madi with the loss of hers. There’s Gaia and Indra’s strained relationship. Emori + being cast out by her parents. The child sacrifices. Murphy + Sheidheda’s mother throwing him in the conclave meaning he doesn’t like women. Is this season about mommy issues?

• A little confused why he’s talking about Lexa as if she directly stole his legacy. Wasn’t he in power when Indra was a child?

• Octavia is laying there staring at a blank book.

• I'm dying at Octavia monologing, completely oblivious to Echo cutting her face with broken glass behind her. LMAO. She's become so accustomed to Echo's whimpering she's not even phased anymore.

• Dying again at Echo out of nowhere just going DO YOU KNOW WHY AZGEDA WARRIORS SCAR THEIR OWN FACES?

• Octavia, again:

• "We do it to symbolize that the pain is over. The wound is healed."

• That's such a good explanation. And here begins Echo's healing journey. As her wounds heal over the next few episodes so will she. And by the end her scars will symbolise that journey.

• Here Echo goes again being the smartest person in the room, always. "We're not prisoners, we're recruits."

• Tasya is making me super uncomfortable with the jittery, eery way Echo is moving around. I love it.

• The way Echo casually saunters out of the fucking room with not a single care in the world oh she knowsssss. AJDKSHFJSF

• Echo leading again!!! Making the decisions. Octavia following after her (literally) and backing her.

• "This is how my people show they're ready to go to war" — making everyone extremely uncomfortable and I love that for her. Also, "my people."

• Embracing her Azgeda-ness.

• Octavia understanding and jumping in to aid Echo's plan combined with the close-up of Echo's determined abliet slightly unhinged expression makes me believe Echo is leaning into her "spy" along with her Azgeda and going undercover, making them believe she's on their side when she's not. But there's still a part of me thinking Echo is spiraling and is going to war out of habit and because she feels she has nowhere else to go/ "no home." Aka, the detail to finish off the S7 O/E parallels: "this is who I am" / "I'm here for the war."

• Furthermore, her scarring herself could be a callback to Octavia telling Ilian to help her feel something.

• I love this season a lot.

• Back in Sanctum again😒

• How does a chess game take all fucking DAY?

• OH 🙂 That's how.

• Yeah it makes absolutely no sense Raven would ask about Octavia before Echo.

• Raven looking at Clarke when finding out Bellamy's dead as if she isn't the only one there who's his actual family, who spent 6 entire years with him + more. Raven Clarke-Prop Reyes strikes again.

• Clarke's like *sad confusion*

• The scene of Clarke finding out about Bellamy's death didn't feel so much about her as it did "well what does this mean for them now?"

• "From the ashes we will rise" becomes "from the ashes, through the bridge, the shepherd will rise" Gotta say, not as catchy.

• "please call me Bill" - No. No Bill. Only Cadogan.

• We're going back to Earth this season aren't we?