#i also would like everyone to know i almost accidentally linked the build a bear alligator I'm trying to talk myself out of buying

[kindahoping4forever]

📸: Lauren Dawkins

[dreamingon-forever]

hi can you give some levihan headcanons as a couple , maybe in modern au

Thank you so much for the request! This is my first headcanon request so I tried to make it as perfect as possible! Also, bear with me because I got overexcited with the ask, and instead of the point form HC formulation I should've followed, I may or may not have thought up their whole freaking backstory... and their follow up story... Oops. I won't post it here today, but I do think I will make it a separate post some other day if anyone is interested enough. Either way, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy!

AO3 link: 💚💜

I like to think that even in modern AU, Hange would still have her cheery personality, but instead of obsessing over Titans, she'd be more interested in microbes (I know, transition between giants to microorganisms, LOL). She'd still be interested in saving humanity, but more in the bacterial and medical kind of field instead.

Levi on the other hand, no longer having to be a soldier, he'd happily run the tea shop he'd always wanted right next to his best friends Isabel and Furlan.

The two met on a subway ten years ago on Levi's first day of work in the city. Where an unfortunate mix up of personal belongings caused by clashing into each other got them acquainted and familiar with each other. Despite the unfortunate meeting and the roller coaster of events that unfolded from their collision, it eventually became a pleasant story to tell their friends or at parties when asked how they met.

They were complete opposites of each other. Hange loved the outdoors while Levi preferred staying at home. She was loud and upbeat while he preferred silence and tranquility. Hanger had a habit of being free willed and letting her spontaneity take her, while Levi liked to have everything planned and set before getting into anything

And it wasn't just their preferences that differed, it was every aspect of themselves. Their life choices and ways of thinking were drastically opposing. Even the way they disagreed on what they wanted to eat for dinner caused heated discussion when brought up, as Hange would pick sweets for dinner instead of something sustainable like Levi wanted.

They were complete and utterly the opposite of each other. And while everything pointed to them not working out and onlookers put their money on their relationship ending in a messy breakup, they proved everyone wrong every time with how much their bond only grew stronger overtime. And how their loving partnership became more and more obvious the more time spent around them, erasing any doubts they had about the couple.

Yes, they fought occasionally, and they drove each other absolutely insane. But their differences also brought them out of each other's shells, together experiencing new things they would've never seen without the other otherwise. They saw the world in a different light through each other's eyes, and came to love the new combined word they created together. Because with being opposites of each other, it also meant they filled each other's holes and missing pieces. Almost like creating a stained glass window meant to be clear with splashes of purples and greens instead. Creating an accidental masterpiece that came to be adored by those lucky enough to bask under the kaleidoscope of colours in their inner chapel. Bathing those closest to them with the deep love they had for each other.

Throughout the years of getting to know each other, they found a way to put their differences away, and somehow managed to build up their relationship status to best friends. So much so that Isabel and Furlan, Levi's childhood friends complained about being replaced so quickly. Although, in all considerations, it felt to Levi like he was the one being replaced by Hange instead with the way his friends loved her. Hell, even his mother and uncle seemed to love her more than him.

"Welcome home, runt. Where's Hange? I wanted to discuss about the new wine she mentioned to me last time." His uncle would say when he'd visit.

"Oh Hange! I've made your favourite pudding!" His mother would greet, throwing herself at his girlfriend before she caught sight of her own son staring at them with a roll of his eyes. "Oh, Levi! Nice to see you too of course."

Contrary to his grumbles and complains about Hange being overburdened by his family every time she visited, he couldn't help but feel his heart beat happily at knowing the love of his life was accepted by his family, and that they loved her as much as he did himself. Having the two most important parts of his life get along was all he cared about.

Despite having known each other for ten years, having met when Levi was 26 and Hange 24, they didn't start dating until... well that was a mystery of its own as they themselves didn't really know when they started dating. Not fully at least.

Somewhere along the years of their friendship the lines blurred, and they somehow ended up with the shocking, yet not surprising realization that they were and had been dating each other for a while. But the way they realized it and came to terms with it wasn't an easy one. When Levi finally came to terms that he harboured feelings for his best friend, he initially thought that Hange had feelings for someone else. And he could only put up with the unbearable pain he went through when he overheard Moblit mention to Nifa that Hange couldn't meet with them for a work dinner because she had a date already.

So one can only imagine his surprise when Hange showed up with a smile at his shop door on Saturday, greeting him and his workers as happily as ever. Even throwing herself at him for a hug like she always did whenever she visited. A hug that would be considered too personal and close for two individuals that were only considered friends. But not once during her whole afternoon spent there did she mention anything about meeting up with anyone else, but the suspense was absolutely killing Levi by the point the clock struck half an hour to dinner time.

But Hange continued being her usual self. Greeting new and old clients alike as if she'd been friends with them for ages. Making a complete mess of his usual clean counters only to be scolded off by Levi to go to the corner and read instead, and even teasing him about random things like she always did. All the while being completely unaware of the turmoil and the pain Levi felt at thinking about how he would have to hide his feelings and having to pretend to be happy for Hange being with someone that wasn't him the rest of their live. It was becoming an unbearable and depressing Saturday to say the least. His mood only soured more as Hange still acted all upbeat and nonchalant as ever. Not once having brought up her dating life to him, despite being her so called bestie. And it brought about this ugly feeling of disbelief and jealousy out of him that he'd never experienced before.

As nighttime fell over the streets, Levi finally broke his silence and lashed out at her bitterly, asking why she was hanging out with him when she already had plans with someone else.

And out of all ways she could've reacted to his interrogation, being laughed at was something he didn't expect.

"But Levi, YOU are my date." She finally gasped, having finally gained the capacity to breathe again after having laughed at his question.

"Huh? How am I your date, fucking Four- Eyes. We never made plans for anything. Besides, I overheard your coworkers talk about you meeting someone instead of eating with them... How can I be considered your date?"

Hange tilted her head, amusement flowing in her brown eyes as she caught the usual poised and self-assured raven-haired individual lose his composure. "Huh... But I thought we've been dating for while now, Shorty. I've even been referring to you as my boyfriend to my friends and coworkers for the last few months."

Turns out, her date was none other than Levi. And her idea of a date was hanging out with him at his tea shop on the weekend like she's been doing the last five years. And Levi, as clueless to feelings as ever, never put two and two together.

The whirring of machine cogs and espresso machines filled the silence between them as Levi processed whatever Hange had just said.

"The fuck?! You can't simply just call me your boyfriend when I haven't even been aware of us dating this whole time!" He finally retaliated, throwing the rag in his hands onto the tabletop.

Hange giggled, noticing the reds on his cheeks. It wasn't a no, she could read from his eyes. "I like you too, Shorty. So? Are we officially dating now?"

"You better make up for the last few months I've been out of loop of my own relationship."

They ended up adopting a black goldfish adorably named One-Eyed Moody after the professor of the dark arts from the Harry Potter series for the fact it was both very moody and in fact, one eyed. Levi had reluctantly agreed to let Hange get a pet for their apartment once they had moved in together after a year of dating. He expected her to get a cat, a big dog, or a lizard for all he knew. Although he made it very clear the last one were on the black list.

Instead, Hange had found One-Eyed Moody on a cart ready to be discarded off at the pet shop. Having instantly connected with it, she begged Levi to get it. And with a heavy sigh, he couldn't say no. Mind you, it was pretty much dead at that point, but through endless observation and whatever mutated food concoction Hange whipped up, it came back to life in a matter of weeks. And in turn, Levi had somewhat grown attached to it. Hange liked to joke that it was their baby and it resembled them both in some ways.

Their days spent together were a blend of their interests mixed into one. When Hange wanted to settle down and read, Levi would do skin care for both of them to make use of their time. All the while Hange reading aloud the words from her book so Levi could listen as well. When Levi wanted to clean the house, Hange knew better than to lend a hand as he was peculiar in his ways. So instead she'd make some tea for both of them and cook dinner for a famished Levi by the end of his cleaning session. On days Hange felt like watching a documentary on bugs or microbes, Levi would lay his head on her lap as she brushed her fingers through his locks. The soothing motion letting him get some shut eye he usually never got due to his insomnia.

Hange had a habit of working overtime, and sometimes even staying overnight at her lab. On days like these Levi would pack up some sweets from his shop and some warm tea and bring them to her office as he kept her company. On the off days Hange had a day off, she'd use it to help around in Levi's shop. Chatting up customers and bringing a bright feeling to the atmosphere. Levi absolutely adored watching her laugh and interact with regulars from behind the counter. Although he'd never voice these thoughts aloud. But it wasn't needed, as his employees, Jean, Sasha, and Connie all make kissy faces to each other whenever they caught Levi glancing a little too long at his partner.

Levi didn't like to admit it, but most of his photos on his phone were of candid pictures of Hange. But not the flattering ones most boyfriends take of their girlfriends that are Instagram worthy. No, most of them were completely unflattering. Many consisting of Hange snoring with her mouth wide open, of her laying in a pile of dirt after having chased a squirrel. Of Hange throwing a middle finger to the camera after being caught without caffeine early in the morning, or even of her snorting in laughter after something funny Erwin had told them during one of their get togethers.

He was absolutely infatuated with her. With her quirks and her being. He was in love with Hange Zoe.

And similarly, Hange kept a record of all the plants and bouquets Levi gave her over the years. A collection of pressed flowers and dried leaves from every flora and fauna he'd ever gifted her. Because as much as she loved flowers, she loved more the effort gone into picking a different flower each time they had a celebration. Because as Levi had once told her, she was so unique that not one flower could ever describe her, and that he could never tie her down to one specific plant.

Normal dates like going to the mall or watching movies before dinner on a weekend weren't their thing. Instead, beach dates in mid freezing February nights, stargazing spontaneously on a random Wednesday night, running around the fields of the neighbourhood Hange grew in during summer afternoons, hiding from thugs after trespassing someone's property to take a look at the size of a wasp's nest, ending with the nest falling to the ground and its inhabitants swarming around the local outlaws on a spring morning... All were chaotic memories that belonged only to them. Those were the kind of dates they had.

They never had to verbally express their admiration or love for each other openly. Or make it everyone's business to know that they were together because they had upmost trust in their partnership and relationship without having to project it to the world in a fright of being misunderstood. Both knowing perfectly well how much they cared and loved each other in the small gestures they shared: The little brush of fingertips as they greeted each other goodbye before work. In the way they worked in sync when working together on a project for their new home. Of how they made love to each other in the warm embrace of each other, blinds closed and moans silenced between their interexchange of kisses. Making their love known only between themselves. It never became a pressing matter having everyone else know their business or feeling the need to explain their relationship to others. In the end, their actions spoke louder than words, and everyone could tell that they had the upmost trust in their relationship.

But in the calmness and safety of their bubble, eventually doubt would emerge, and leak a hole in their safe haven, no matter how much effort they put into keeping it afloat.

Hange absolutely loved and had a strange fascination for energy drinks infused in coffee, the ones that had 10 times the amount than should be allowed by any manufacturers or allowed to pass inspections. So much so that she'd stop by the convenience store on the corner of their apartment every time she came back from work. Bringing with her at least 10 cans with her.

Levi, despite his eye rolls and grumbles about over caffeination and annoyance at having a bunch of empty cans to constantly recycle, still got them for her whenever he passed by on his way from the tea store nonetheless. Loving and having a soft spot for the way Hange's eyes lit up and the way she threw herself at him every time he brought it for her.

Due to their different time schedules they never got to meet up to shop together, but nonetheless they each become regulars in the little shop for the drinks Hange so badly craved.

It was one day that Hange came back, a look of complete defeat on her face as she slummed against the door that Levi understood something was wrong. That, and the fact her hands were empty of her usual drinks.

"Finally figured out you were consuming poison?" Levi questioned as he started unclasping her shoes, carefully placing them on the shoe rack.

Shaking her head sadly, Hange sighed. "No... they hiked up the prices again. I know we're tight on money so I can't go buying five dollar coffee from the convenience store anymore... I guess I'll just have to settle for the stale decaf coffee they have at the office."

"Tch... don't exaggerate, Four-Eyes. The drinks were never more than two bucks." Levi muttered, taking her jacket off and placing it on the hanger.

Hange's brows furrowed. "Two bucks? When have they ever been that cheap? I've always been paying four fifty."

"Huh? What fucking store have you been to? It's been two fifty since we've moved here." Levi grumbled, flicking his finger over her forehead.

The topic brought on an argument that lasted the whole night over who was right and wrong. And it only settled when they both agreed to go to the store the following day together. Luckily it was a national holiday and neither had to go to work.

The following day, in typical Hange fashion, she'd forgotten to feed One-Eyed Moody. Refusing to leave the house without feeding him first, she told Levi to go on first, and that she'd meet him in the store.

But what she found as she entered the familiar shop was something she'd never expected. The usually bored clerk was suddenly chirpy and chatting up no other than her boyfriend. Levi on the other hand, seemed quite discontented from the conversation, but kept adding a word or two in politeness.

Suddenly catching his girlfriend's gaze, Levi started raising his hand to signal her over, when Hange crossed her hands in front of her, shaking her head vigorously as she unlinked and relinked her arms in the cross motion, signaling behind the cashier's back for Levi to not blow her cover.

Confused at her sudden antics, he furrowed his brows, but did as instructed, following Hange's pointed look to the cooler housing her favourite drinks before she mouthed "cashier, go pay for them!".

It was only after he exited the store ten whole minutes later, an annoyed look on his face that Hange finally pounced on him.

"So?"

"So what? You left me to listen to that girl talk about bad dates alone for ten minutes. Here's your stupid drinks." Levi grumbled, throwing the plastic bag into her arms.

Shaking her head, Hange stopped him from walking towards their home's direction. "NO! I meant, how much did you pay?"

"Ah... like I said, two bucks each." He said, annoyance still laced in his words.

And that's when it clicked for Hange. "Ah huh! I knew it! Levi! She's into you! She's been giving you a discount in order to get you to pay attention to her! She's been flirting with you this whole time!"

And instead of how a typical girlfriend would act after having found out their boyfriend was being hit on by someone else, Hange looked absolutely elated.

"Why you so happy about that? Are you not afraid that I'll reciprocate her someday?"

Of course they both knew he was kidding. The bond and love they shared with each other, despite being subtle, was very much irreplaceable.

"Because, it means that from now on, I get to stock up on my favourite drinks at a nice price!"

"Tch... you don't even know if she actually lowered the price, Four-eyes. Maybe you got charged extra by accident."

But having stepped into the store and bringing back a drink with her, Hange had confirmed for both of them all they needed to know.

And so, that day forward, it became their little secret. Levi would get Hange her drinks at a discounted price because of a crush the cashier had on him.

At first everything seemed alright, but slowly as time progressed, Levi seemed more distant and dejected every time he returned from the store. Hange seemed to pick up on his change of mood, but wasn't sure what was causing it. So instead she watched on in silence as Levi's presence became more and more cold.

Unsure of how to bring it up, she watched silently, until eventually Levi was the first to bring it up.

"Hange... are you okay with someone else hitting on me? Are you fine of having others perceiving me as single?" Levi asked suddenly one night. They were doing their usual pre-bed night routine as Levi prepped their ten stepped skin care for both of them. Hange resting her head on his lap, a book open in front of her.

"Hm? No... Should I be?" She asked, her eyes still glued to the words on the pages before her.

Levi's hands stilled completely, bringing a silence over them following Hange's words.

"No... nothing." He muttered finally, getting up. "I'm done. Don't go to bed too late." He said before walking towards their shared bedroom, his face concealed by the dark room.

At first Hange sat there in confusion. What was up with him and his weird questions? She thought about going to him and getting an answer out of him, but as her gaze fell over the bottles of her favourite drink sitting by the doorstep, realization fell over her. And her heart shattered.

The following day, Levi was doing the usual run. Head downcast and eyes unfocused, he forced on a smile that didn't reach his eyes as the cashier continued telling him something he assumed was supposed to be funny.

"Anyways, that'd be ten dollars."

The usual conversation... the usual dissociation... the same dull pain he felt at pretending to be interested in someone he had no feelings for.

"If you're free, I've been thinking... maybe we can get to know each other outside of the sto-"

As Levi started handing over the bill, already coming up with a plausible excuse to not go on a date, a hand suddenly stopped him, pulling him back.

"Sorry, I think you've got the wrong price! The price tag reads five dollars for a drink, and we got five of them here. I think- I think you might be undercharging us!" A bright voice chirped out of breath.

"Hange?" Levi asked surprised, turning to see the mess of a woman before him. She was absolutely out of breath, her lab coat was still on her figure, where a bunch of stains of various unnatural colours painted the once white cloth, and worse of all, she had goggles over her glasses, and that wasn't counting the pair that hung from her neck or the one on her forehead.

"Sorry I'm late. Work took longer to finish than I thought." She puffed out, throwing him a wide smile.

The cashier cleared her throat, noticing the gaze between them, not liking how close they seemed. "Uh... I'm sure I put the price right... I'll go check on the price tags after I ring this customer." She said as she turned back to Levi, her eyes still turning to take a look at Hange. "Don't worry about it, pay the usual price you pay."

But before she could continue, Hange inserted herself once more. "No need! I've got the rest of the money here." She said, pulling out a bunch of lose change from her pockets. Some which fell to the floor if not rolling on the counter.

"Oops..."

"Ma'am... I'm sorry, but can you please wait for your turn? I'm helping this customer over here first. I'll get back to you af-"

"We're paying together. These are for her. She's my girlfriend." Levi said.

A stunned silence fell over the three of them at Levi's words. His confession even surprising Hange as it was the first time she'd heard him introduce her as his girlfriend to anyone else other than their family and friends.

There was a certain pride in his eyes as he finally got to call her his in public. He wasn't one for public affection, or making the world know of his business. But there was something that warmed his chest in having others see them as a couple. Of having made it known that Hange was his. And only his.

Hange smiled. "25 should be the full price." She said, picking up the forgotten coins on the counter before interlacing her fingers with Levi's, and rushing out the door together with his hand in hers. The wind carrying her contagious laugh as they made their way to their apartment. Onlookers and everything else be damned.

"Aren't you sad?" Levi finally asked as they crashed onto the floor of their entrance hall after having run all the way up the stairs to their home.

"Over?" She asked breathlessly, turning to look at her lover.

"The fact you'll have to pay more for the drinks. Or at least cut down on them."

Hange chuckled, a bright twinkle of amusement amongst her brown eyes. "It's worth it. I'd rather pay more for my drinks than lose that warmth of yours... I don't want the love of my life to feel like I'm hiding our relationship. Besides... It was kind of sexy having you put claim over me in front of someone who had eyes on you for a long time."

"Fucking unbelievable." Levi grumbled, causing Hange to giggle before rolling over so she was just over his face. A serious look suddenly taking over her features.

"I love you, Levi. You and no one else."

"I love you too, Four-Eyes." Levi whispered back, placing a hand to the back of her head to bring her closer to him. "Who else can drive me as insane as you?"

And with it, they melted into a kiss.

[lifeexperience]

We are vengeance.

It has been almost three month since Lila Rossi came back from her fabulous trip from Achu. And since she arrived again she enjoyed the glamour. Enjoyed how everybody - who was someone, of course, - danced as she moved her strings. Even that Capitano della Moralità, Adrien was doing what she was saying.  

Just lonely, little Marinette stood on the other side.

The Italian grinned confidently. If she had some plan like that day, she was going to ruin that little girl.

Anyway she had to take prioritization of her tasks. Firstly it’s time to make a Wikipedia page about herself for future reference. She couldn’t be sloppy from here because she could meet more forceful people than Dupain-Cheng.  

Okay, so she would list her accomplishments: modeling with Adrien Agreste      , best friend with Shaytan, knowing Jagged Stone… When she finally finished, the sun already went down and it was dark. Lila disinterestedly looked at her door, his mother again worked overtime.  

Nevermind, she would eat something then collect links of her publications. Yepp, after some pasta all'Ortolana the work would be so much easier.  

However when she went back to gather her online mentions she didn’t find anything. There was nothing about her on the Ladyblog, or on Adrien’s Instagram. Someone deleted them? Who? Maybe it’s just a bug? She would know more if she asks Alya first.

Yeah, don’t need any panic.

“Ciao Alya! I have a question.” she said immediately as that wannabe journalist answered. “Yeah, yeah, così accidentally you didn’t delete my interview from your blog, right?” She nervously patted her laptop as she waited for Alya to look at it. After two minutes there was the answer. She tried to disguise her anger, but she didn’t have the patient at the moment for that stupid girl apologizes.  

So somehow her interview was lost. And she didn’t have to call Capitano della Moralità about their model photo, she knew he didn’t have too much control on it.  

Lila unconsciously started to chew her nails. It was a bad habit of hers since her childhood.  

Who had enough knowledge to hack two different websites to mess with her? Marinette was too morally high for this. And Max, who had the skill, was already under her thumb.  

“Argh!”  

She had to calm down. She couldn’t become an akume because of this since she planned a bigger performance for the next week.

Breath! In! Out!

Okay.

Maybe tomorrow she could make a new interview with Alya and drop some seemingly accident infos about the new adult heroes. Then at the weekend photoshoots she could force Adrien again.

Yeah. Why was she nervous at all? She could use this to grow her territory.

*

It has been almost six days since Adrien reluctantly posted a new photo about the two of them. There were fewer likes and more comments then before, but she was happy because she could continue to build her Wikipedia page. It would be her first thing when she got home.  

And tomorrow she would start her small shame with poor Marinette again. The little girl already was alone most of the time in the school, but Lila knew it was a matter of time to find new friends outside of their class. And she wanted to prevent every attempt of it.

I am great at ruining others.    

She smiled sweetly as she pretended to listen to another rabbling from Rose. That pink fool rarely shut up about her disgusting viewpoint, and Lila sometimes thought she would be a perfect next target after Dupain-Cheng. And if this little pink wannabe would be destroyed, her loser girlfriend would fall with her.  

Yepp, she will be an excellent following after the shit show Marinette will go through.

“Lila, it’s not your phone?” Alix poked her. She turned to her in confusion and listened to the ringing.

“No.” she shook her head. “My ringtone is different. I don’t like metal music.”

The skater tilted her head. “You sure?” Lila nodded, starting to be annoyed. “Because it’s coming from your bag.”

“What?”

She hurriedly got her phone out, and indeed it was ringing with that strange growl music. And the number also was foreign, yet she picked up. “Hello?”

“It’s Lila Lucrezia Rossi?” Everybody in the classroom jumped at once.The voice from the other side was much louder than she thought and now every one of her classmates watched her with wide eyes. She fastly tried to turn down the volume as she answered in agreement. “So your appointment was moved to the next with Doctor Lacroix.”

“Wha...What appointment?” Lila asked. She didn’t remember any medical thing. Of course she told a lot of tails about her health problems, but she was completely healthy.

“So for the farting irritation.” The woman said with a monotone tone. And of course, because Lila couldn’t turn off the speaker everybody in the room heard it.

She blinked.

“I… I think you… you called the wrong number.” she muttered as now she tried to end the call. With no success.  

“But you're Lila Lucrezia Rossi, age fourteen, Italian, aren’t you?” Lila looked around embarrassingly. How did that woman know that about her? If… If she denies it her little puppets' trust would crack. But if she continues this conversation… She didn’t even want to know.

And as she stood there in panic and listened about her supposed condition she wanted to be killed. Every fucking eye was on her. She even saw that goodie-two-shoe tried to hide her giggle with Adrien grinning next to her. And of course she noticed how her circle slid away from her.

Fuck.    

*

She skipped two weeks of school again after that… THAT phone call. Of fucking course almost every one of her classmates called her almost daily to ask about her health. And she had to answer with a lot of information for Every Fucking QUESTION.

It was irritating.  

However she couldn’t stay at home for more days because her mother. It would be too suspicious if there would be some supposed akuma without any TV gossip about it.  

So she had to go to school.  

Fortunately most of the kids were understanding and didn’t bring up the topic. But there was  Kim. Of FUCKING course.

As many times as he saw her he faked a fart with a disgustingly loud moan. She tried to cry about it, though everybody said to bear with it. Kim was just Kim and if she didn’t react he would let it go.  

At first Lila didn’t want to believe it then Alya patted her shoulder sympathetically and left her to stand alone. And because of these really annoying events she couldn’t start her plan with Dupain-Cheng who - of fucking couse - got closer to Adrien. To her key to the famous-rich-carefree life.  

They were chatting cheerfully in the classroom without any glance at someone other than each. They were in their little world, and every girl in the class blissfully sighed at the sight.

And if that day was not enough of a bother to her somehow her school tablet started streaming porno when she tried to project out her presentation. She was mortified just like everybody in the classroom. And she didn’t even have luck with teachers. Because of - fucking - course that lesson was with Mendeleiev.

*

It was already December when she finally served her detention time because of that… THAT incident. She couldn’t go any photoshoot with Adrien due to her attendance problem.  

She didn’t even see Batman, yeah THAT Batman when he saved Shaytan and Chat Noir. She was at a detention with others. Although she could tell Alya a little story about her knowing the American hero and how he called him to help Paris.  

However she only had ten minutes to bask the light because her mamma called her home. Immediately. At first Lila found it strange, but she shook the confusion down. She said goodbye to the wannabe journalist and went home. She blissfully entered the elevator then with a big smile greeted her mother.  

“Lila!” her mother nodded sternly. The woman waited as she - not so happily anymore, dropped her things in her room. “Why did you use your emergency money?”

Lila furrowed her eyebrows. “But I didn’t.”

“No?” her mamma asked.

She shook her head. She didn’t use her emergency card because her mother could check it anytime. That’s why she asked her payment in cash from Gabriel.

“Then tell me mia figlia, why your debit card is in the minus?” Her mamma held a tablet with an account statement in front of Lila. She slowly read over the document. And indeed, her debit card which was only for emergencies was in minus. The description list showed a lot purchasing from different sites that she didn’t even know.  

“I didn’t do this.” she said franctincly.  

“No?” her mother glanced at the numbers. “You know how much money it was? We kept it for your university years.”

“We?” Lila whispered as she became aware of the gravity of the situation.

“Yes. Your father was the one who drew my attention to it.”  

At first Lila only just gaped then she felt how her blood started circulating. Of fucking course that bastard was the one who spying after her.  

“You are a grounded signorina!” she heard her mother voice through her anger. “After the school ends you have to come home then do your homework. I take your phone and electronics too.”

She didn’t even have time to protest as she saw a dark butterfly. She quietly waited as that insect landed on her phone. “How unfair to blame something on others when she is not at fault.” She heard the well-known tone. “Finanza I’m giving you the power to punish everyone who sinned against you. Your only task to bring to me their Miraculous.”

“Of fucking course.”

*

She was defeated again. But one day she would destroy the fame of Shaytan. That girl would taste the fall and humiliation.  

“LILA!” A loud yell cut her from her plans as she sat at the ground. “Lila!” Someone shook her. She looked up to meet Alya irritating face. “Are you okay?”

She blinked some to win some precious moment to calm down. Then she nodded with a fake whimpering. “What happened? You shouted about some money then forced everyone to admit their sins.”

“Oh… I… I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” she sobbed while she tried to hide her dry eyes.

“It’s okay.” Alya hugged her. “Can you stand up?”

She shakely raised on her foot. They silently walked along the pavement for some time when she finally looked around. They were not far away from the school. And of course it meant they were near to the Dupain-Cheng's bakery.

At first Lila didn’t even notice the bakery, then she heard a shocked gasp from next to her. Alya with wide eyes pointed forward. She also turned the direction and her jaw also dropped. There stood Marinette, little innocent Marinette, embracing a tall, muscular man. After some moments they let go of each other and with a big smile Marinette got in the car with the stranger.  

“What… Who was he?”

*

Next day Lila wasn’t able to forget that stranger with the baker girl. He was gorgeous, but most important, older than them and a little dark. Plus he was clearly an adult. Alya tried to claim he was surely a cousin of Marinette, however Lila wasn’t that certain about it. They didn’t look alike. And if she remembered correctly Alya never told about any relatives of Marinette except her great-uncle chef and grandparents. Nobody else.

“Hm.” If she could twist it somehow then she would be on advantage again. But how? Alya was adamant about the family thing, but what if… Perhaps some well aimed stab about gang members. Perhaps.

Although she needed to conceal her mirth as she eyed her classmates. They all stood at the bottom of the stairs and were themselves like stupid sheeps they are. Lila forced a shy smile on herself and carefully stepped between them to tell a new tale about her time in China. And of fucking course it was not a coincidence, she knew well if she use any rather distinct - nevertheless linked to Marinette, - facts then Dupain-Cheng was much easier to upset.

However that stupid girl didn’t bother to pay any attention to her. She just stood beside Adrien and chatted happily with him.

Lila frowned.  

“There is a problem?” someone poked her shoulder. It was Mylene.

“No… No.” her smile was strained. “I just… Why are Marinette and Adrien avoiding us?”

And everybody simultaneously turned their way. The two blissfully laughed at something as they ignored everything else.  

“How sweet!” she heard Rose’s murmurs. Yeah, like pineapple on pizza. Bhrr.

She started to open her mouth to say something though she wasn’t able to voice any sound. A darker than black and really long limousine parked in front of them. It was not Adrien’s one, neither Chloé’s.  

And the most surprising thing was Marinette jumping up and down for the sight.  

All of them including Lila watched as their class president pulled Adrien to the car and after some debate with the driver they got in the car.  

What did she just watch?

“Oh!” It was not a shocked ‘Oh!’, it was a ‘I realized what was happening’. And Lila also wanted to know what the fuck happened before her beautifull eyes.

“You know something, Nino?” She really tried to conceal her angry curiosity.  

The DJ nodded with a relaxing smile. “Marinette’s family visiting from America.”

“You mean she has relatives in America?” Alya asked, more interested than a few minutes ago when she listened to Lila’s gossip.

“Oh, hell!” Kim shouted. “The brothers, right? I almost forgot about them.”

Alya tilted her head as he turned to the swimmer. “Brothers?”

“Yeah.” Nino talked again. “Dick and Jay, and Timtam… and… Who was the one who pissed Chloé off?”

“Some Da… De… Demon!”

“No. His name was…”

Lila tuned out the conversation. So Marinette had a family in the States. And they most certainly rich drawing that conclusion from the limo. Why didn’t she do better research before she transferred?

*

In the middle of the week was the career day and Lila was really lucky to talk her mamman down about coming to it. Of course she didn’t want her here. It would be a disaster.

She had a quite good feeling about the day. If she heard correctly only a few parents agreed to participate and after the school for the day would end. And naturally she kinda forgot this particular information when she told her mother about this ‘really awful’ day.

Yep, I am a genius.

She confidently walked through the hallways and winked at some cute boy because not only Adrien was appreciable in this school. Maybe if Monsieur Agreste would appear she could negotiate for a new line just for herself. After all she always paid attention to his handsome boy.

Humming the newest XY’s song Lila happily stepped in the classroom. However her mood dropped exactly that moment when her foot touched the room’s floor. Since there, in the middle of the room stood with her fake innocent Marinette and that gorgeous foreign man. And from closer he was more handsome than she first thought. Even Madam Bustier blushed and she had a husband.

Why has this girl this kind of luck?    

Lila forced a charming smile on her face and with a friendly wave she sat down. She would not risk her status in front of that man when Marinette is nearby. She had to calculate carefully so for the time she just waited for the start.

When everybody arrived the teacher began her really boring speech about the importance of work knowledge and connections. Lot of the guests nodded in agreement. There was Rose’s mother who was a florist, Nino’s father was a doctor and Alix’s historian father. And of course Marinette’s mysterious man.

She was really curious about him. He wore a perfectly fitted suit and was fucking handsome, nevertheless he looked young. Maybe twentish. It’s maximum six year age difference between them. It’s not too bad.

She patiently waited as every one of the guardians did their presentation when finally the man stepped forward.  

“Before I introduce myself I would like to clear something up.” His voice was a pleasant baritone. Even Adrien didn’t have that kind of sexy voice. Lila already enjoyed the show.

“I would like to ask everyone present to turn off the phones, tablets and any other smart device.”

Lila indifferently watched as everyone reluctantly got their device and turned them off. She didn’t get back hers since her mother grounded her. How lucky, she grimaced.

“In the next step please read through the confidentiality agreement that Marinette hands out. If you don’t want to partake in it or don’t agree to the terms I have to ask you to leave the room.” he continued as the baker girl gave everyone a copy.  

As Lila looked around some of her classmates without thinking signed it up. And surprisingly it was Chloé and Adrien who handed back among the first. She also saw how after that some other looked at their paper with more bravery and signed it. She didn’t even bother to read it, just scan the logo at the top and the stamp at the bottom. She didn’t know this company so she also wrote her name on and handed it back.

Nobody left the room.

“Thank you, and I am apologizing for that little inconvenience, but this is necessary in today’s competitive sphere.” he said as he and Marinette counted and rechecked every one of the papers.  

After a few minutes they finished. “Since today we also published an article it’s not that big of a harm if I introduce myself.” he smiled a little at Marinette and pulled her next to him. “My name is Damian Wayne and I am one of Marinette’s siblings.”

Lila straightened. She heard it right?

“I work at the Wayne Enterprise as a co-CEO beside my brother Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

It can’t be!    

“After our Father decided he would like to spend more time with his family, I took over his position. Some of my...”

How the fucking hell?    

Lila kind of lost herself and didn’t hear anything other than the slowly repeating ‘Wayne’ echo. That rascal was a Wayne heir?

And Lila targeted her?

Oh fuck.    

*

It was Friday when Lila finally understood Marinette’s real power. It was never her connection or her skills. Not even her so-called friends.  

No.  

It was her family.

She of course knew about the Waynes. Who not? They were celebrities, start managers, philanthropists, fucking Gods. And of fucking course every one of the students also knew about them. So for the next couple of days went by like a couple of seconds. One moment she was the center of the attention then suddenly everybody wanted to be friends with Marinette.

Everybody.  

Even the fucking street-sweeper.

And of course there was the media attention. The police had to be called because of the sensation. Lila even saw how two journalists quarreled about which one hid in one the bushes in front of the school.  

Naturally she wanted to take advantage of the situation, however as the article with her name was published her mother’s phone started ringing. And the caller was Lila's worst nightmare.  

On Friday she and her mamman head to the Wayne Enterprise’s Parisian branch. It was a modern building with clear glass windows and a big dark gold W letter. They were hurriedly ushering in an empty meeting room where there were too many chairs for Lila’s liking.  

Her mother - of course, - was enraged. She almost learnt everything about Lila’s school life. Just almost. Unfortunately it was enough to lose her trust in her daughter. Lila was grounded kind of permanently. She wouldn’t get back her phone kind of ever. She only could use her mother’s computer and just for homework. She was not expelled from Francois-Dupont, however she had detention for a year and had to repeat this school year.  

And now she would learn what the Waynes cooked up for her.

She grimaced.  

“Good morning Madam Rossi and Mademoiselle Rossi.” greeted them Damian Wayne himself as he steeped in the room. He was followed by Marinette, her parents - or they were even her parents? Lila wasn’t able to read any article about the family ties. -, a petite Asian woman, then some other more business-like men and women. Surely the lawyers.

“I think you know why you are here.” Damian stated as he sat at the head of the table. Marinette went to his left side with her parents (?) and the petite woman sat down at his right side with the lawyers.  

“Yes.” Her mother nodded.  

“We would like to sue your daughter, Mademoiselle Lila Lucrezia Rossi, for breaking our confidentiality agreement. Furthermore ask a restraining order to prohibit her from approaching my little sister, Marinette Athanasia Al Ghul Wayne.” This man spoke with a really unconcerned voice that Lila almost thought he was not even interested in his sibling’s life.

“Yes.” Her mamman agreed without any protest.  

“However” his voice steeled, “because my sister is a really kind soul she will not sue for the physical violence, a mental and physical harassment and the defaming.” he stared down at her with dark eyes. “Nevertheless we, as from her guardians who are presented” he pointed to the stranger Asian woman and himself, “decided to put on the blacklist Mademoiselle Lila Lucrezia Rossi in every business in which we owned the majority.”

The air got stuck in Lila’s body. Every business? Every? The Waynes owned half of the planet.  

“But” spoke the petite woman, “we would ignore this blacklisting if the Mademoiselle successfully participates in various therapies.” She passes toward a paper. “It’s a list of some advised areas to search for good specialists. We don’t want to break a young child's career so we are ready to compromise.”  

Lila almost believed her then she glanced at the man. At first she thought this Damian Wayne was gorgeous. And indeed his look was perfect, however she didn’t meet more horrifying people than him. His eyes screamed for murder.

She turned back to her mother who kind of looked relieved. “We… I thank you.” she breathed.

After that were just formalities. Signing up that or this. Lila wanted to run home and curl up. And cry.  

She worked for her fame. She worked hard to destroy those lives in her way. She didn’t think she would meet someone who could destroy her with just a flick.

However the paper said otherwise.

Her fucking status said otherwise.

She didn’t remember a lot from the meeting after that. She barely registered when they arrived home. She almost didn’t hear her father's disappointed voice on the phone.

And Lila almost missed the little note on her desk. With a photo about herself as she moves to get an akuma.

We are the night. We are vengeance. We are a family.

[percabeth4life]

Sorry to just jump in here and drop this on you, but i saw a blog once call percabeth an abusive relationship???? and i was like ?????? but none of my friends read pjo so i cant ask them for thoughts, how about you?

Oh boy anon so this is a thing.

Percabeth is abusive is a common thing those that hate percabeth or ship something else and want to validate it say, and why I have the “anti-percabeth” tag blocked.

I’ve seen people say Annabeth just giving him a dirty look was abuse, people will reach for anything done between them that isn’t perfect, usually to justify why their ship is better.

Honestly, I’m open to most ships. Percabeth is my main but if you ship things that’s totally fine, even if I don’t like it I won’t say you shouldn’t ship it. I read non-Percabeth ships, but a lot of people feel a strong need to insist a ship is abusive if they don’t like it.

It’s fine to just not like a ship.

First off lets preface all of this with a warning that I’ll be discussing abuse here so if that’s upsetting skip it.

It got long, like very long (word count is nearly 3k), so it’s all under the Read More, there’s a TLDR at the very bottom.

Now then, what is abuse?

There are two definitions that pop up with a quick google search

Use (something) to bad effect or for a bad purpose; misuse. 

Treat (a person or an animal) with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly.

If you look up the legal definition (law.cornell) used to define abuse there are more options, but I’m leaving out 2, 3, and 4 cause 3 and 4 def have nothing to do with this and definition 2 is in regards to child abuse.

Abuse, generally: physically, sexually, or mentally injuring a person.

Now if we want to go deeper in lets define physical and mental abuse. I’ll be leaving out sexual as that has no bearing on this particular situation.

Physical abuse is defined by healthyplace.com as

Non-accidental use of force that results in bodily injury, pain, or impairment. This includes, but is not limited to, being slapped, burned, cut, bruised or improperly physically restrained.

Now lets expand on this.

Something that is pointed to specifically is the mentioned intent. “Non-accidental”. It must be purposeful harm.

Now, I will also point out that Physical abuse doesn’t necessarily say the intent needs to be abuse, but as my lawyer parents state it simply needs to be “intent to harm” and it gets labeled abuse. The legal definition (given above) agrees, it is simply that it needs to be purposeful harm. But then we need to define this harm, especially the bodily injury, pain, or impairment.

Bodily injury is defined by Merriam Webster as

any damage to a person's physical condition including pain or illness

Now what is damage?

loss or harm resulting from injury to person, property, or reputation

So then harm is defined as... damage, so the definition I prescribe to (and I asked my lawyer parents to confirm, unfortunately I have no link for that).

Causes pain (pain defined as suffering)

Pain is defined by Merriam Webster as

a localized or generalized unpleasant bodily sensation or complex of sensations that causes mild to severe physical discomfort and emotional distress and typically results from bodily disorder (such as injury or disease)

a basic bodily sensation that is induced by a noxious stimulus, is received by naked nerve endings, is associated with actual or potential tissue damage, is characterized by physical discomfort (such as pricking, throbbing, or aching), and typically leads to evasive action

mental or emotional distress or suffering

Finally impairment is

diminishment or loss of function or ability

(all of the above definitions except harm are pulled from Merriam Webster linked with Bodily Injury)

Okay, so now lets consider it, physical abuse needs to cause damage to someone, it must be purposeful damage though the intent to abuse does not necessarily need to be the intent. So if your actions do not intend physical harm then it is not physical abuse.

So then, do Percy and Annabeth have a physically abusive relationship?

Lets start with the classic one that everyone likes to bring up, the Judo Flip.

First off, do Judo Flips hurt? [sourcing (1) (2) (3)]

They CAN hurt if done with that intent, but if your intent is to not harm and you are trained properly, No Judo should not hurt. Anyone properly trained in Judo should know how to prevent harm. (1, 2)

On top of that, the first thing anyone learning Judo is taught is how to fall.

All judoka learn to fall safely, by rolling and breaking their fall with Ukemi. This breakfall absorbs the impact of the throw. (3)

Percy should have the basics of this down seeing how he was already in matches (mentioned in book one prior him being claimed) in his first summer at camp, after four years he’s definitely got the basics down.

Therefore, the Judo flip did not intend to cause harm, nor did it appear to. Despite that it was on stone, and Annabeth had him pinned, Percy didn’t even show discomfort. He laughed.

On top of that, when Annabeth last saw Percy he had the Curse of Achilles. As far as she was aware, he still had it. A requirement of Physical Abuse is the intent to cause harm, every factor here shows that there was no intent to cause harm.

This scene was not physical abuse, it was just bad writing.

I can think of other scenes, only a few, before they were actually in a relationship. In book three Annabeth punched Percy in the stomach when he didn’t catch her hint that he should ask her to dance

She punched me in the gut. ‘Me, Seaweed Brain.’

‘Oh. Oh, right.’ (TTC, chapter 1, page 8 of book on my copy)

There doesn’t seem to have been any harm done as he doesn’t even mention it hurting, not even a pause, just went “oh yeah her”. So it was likely a light punch, the kind friends do that don’t hurt just catch attention. Annabeth has been trained since she was 7, she should know how to throw a punch without actually causing harm.

If anyone wants to bring up other examples, feel free, I’m not combing the books right now for examples but I will reply to them (preferably in asks so this post doesn’t get super long...)

I cannot think of any examples of Percy hitting/punching Annabeth nor any other kind of physical interaction, if someone wishes to bring one of those up feel free.

Does this mean that I think they should be hitting each other despite the fact that it’s clear there is no intent to harm?

No, I don’t really think they should be hitting each other.

But! An important thing there is their own boundaries, not mine. I would not be up for being hit but I do share friendly punches with my friends, which is similar in intent. It’s simply that they’ve been trained to fight and have to a lot to survive so their boundaries for what is “harmful” are different.

But that’s a whole different issue and a different academic essay :)

I don’t believe there is any physical abuse in Percabeth.

Moving on, Emotional abuse (which Psychological and Verbal added as they all connect).

Emotional abuse is defined by helathyplace.com as

Any act including confinement, isolation, verbal assault, humiliation, intimidation, infantilization, or any other treatment which may diminish the sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth.

It also covers Psychological abuse and verbal abuse. Psychological abuse does not have a definition available on the site I’m using but it does have a description. If you’d like to read the description go (here). I will add a detail of how it works though

Psychological abuse signs and symptoms may start small at first as the abuser "tests the waters" to see what the other person will accept, but before long the psychological abuse builds into something that can be frightening and threatening.

Verbal abuse definition defined by healthyplace.com is

Any language or behavior that seeks to coerce its victim to doubt their perceptions or their abilities and subjugate themselves to the abuser.

So considering that, we note another important factor here, they also have intent involved. “Test the waters” and “seek to coerce” for Psychological and Verbal abuse.

Emotional abuse is different in that it does not specify intent, except every item mentioned is purposeful. If you’re confining someone then you’re doing that on purpose, you cannot easily accidentally do most of that. Those actions carry intent, even if the intent is not abuse.

Now then, is percabeth emotionally abusive?

Once again I’ll start with the big thing people point out, the Judo Flip.

I’ve seen it point out that it could be seen as humiliation.

Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”

Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she’d been carrying around since last autumn.

“If you ever leave me again,” she said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”

Percy had the nerve to laugh. Suddenly the lump of heated emotions melted inside Annabeth.

“Consider me warned,” Percy said. “I missed you, too.” (MOA, chapter 2, page 19 of my copy)

If you look at the scene itself you’ll see that Annabeth is very emotional right then, she just got her boyfriend back, she’s exhausted from months of worrying, she’s emotionally very strained, and she judo flips him as all her pain just fills her.

A lot of people with anxiety or high stress or similar issues have times when the anxiety doesn’t affect them during the time they’re stressed, but right after the stressors are gone.

It’s clear that’s what happened here, all her feelings that she’d been burying to work just filled her.

And Percy smiles up at her and says he missed her.

It’s clear from her own comment that she didn’t care what the Romans thought (said right after they almost attacked her) that her thoughts were not on how this looked for Percy, but for her. She knew it looked bad for her to attack him.

She wasn’t trying to embarrass or humiliate Percy, she was trying to get all that pain and stress and anger out. I don’t like how it was done, but it did not physically harm him (nor did she expect it to) and it clearly did not humiliate him.

He smiled and said he missed her.

He understood what she was going through, and made it clear he loved her.

I still think it was bad writing, but it’s not humiliation, nor is it emotional abuse.

Another thing I’ve seen pointed out is Annabeth’s nickname for Percy.

Seaweed Brain.

I will start this with a reminder that both of their nicknames for each other were originally meant as insults.

Wise Girl was first used by Clarisse and it clearly upset Annabeth, it is used twice by Clarisse actually.

Once in TLT, when she and Percy first meet, and once in SOM when they’re attacking Charybdis.

Percy in comparison uses Wise Girl twice as well, both in TLT, once when he was mocking her at her coming along on the quest and once when they were saying goodbye. It’s also used once in HOO, in BOO.

Honestly it’s not much a nickname... only used by Percy 3 times in all the (main) books. There are like 3 other cases in all the side stories and MCGA combined.

Annabeth uses seaweed brain a total of 41 times in all the books combined, in PJO it’s used 25 times, 22 by Annabeth, and HOO it’s used outloud 9 times, all by Annabeth. On top of this, while the PJO cases were all outloud, the HOO cases were not, with 2 (making the total 11) used only in Annabeth’s thoughts.

Seaweed brain is used in TLT 6 times, 5 times by Annabeth.

The first time is when Annabeth is joining the quest, then when he says things are going fine so far when they start the quest, then when at the Ride of Love, then when Annabeth calls him her friend, then when they’re saying goodbye.

If you watch the progression of it it’s the same as with Wise Girl, though used more often. It starts as an insult, and then becomes fond and a term for her friend by the end of it.

I don’t particularly want to label every single instance, but a quick overview of all the PJO books is that it’s used by Annabeth in annoyance a total of 4 times, in fondness/exasperation/worry 18 times. Those times of annoyance were all in books 1 and 2, the time of exasperation (1 of the 18) was in book 2.

The vast majority were done out of worry, and the rest when she was being soft.

It’s not meant to diminish his intelligence, nor is intended as an insult beyond book 1 and 1 instance of book 2. It is rarely used because he’s being ignorant either. You can make an argument for the first case in book 3 being done because he wasn’t catching her hint to dance and thus was mocking his inability to catch a hint, but it was mixed with fondness from my read.

Overall the nickname is not intended as an insult anymore, it has become a friendly name for Percy that shows how fond Annabeth is of him. She does not have nicknames for anyone else.

In HOO all the cases were relatively fond, with one that she didn’t say outloud being used when she was cheering Hazel up by telling stories about Percy (ah the benefits of long time friendships, you get to tell all the good stories).

In the end I think that it’s cute that they have a nickname for each other, and though there could be more flattering ones, the intent that Percy understands from it and the intent Annabeth uses it with clearly show that it is meant in fondness and was a gradual change from a name that was meant to poke at him. It’s meaning is is fond and loving and it was only used 3 times prior with any other (negative) intent.

Also friends give each other nicknames, and commonly they are meant to be teasing.

There is one other thing I’ve seen brought up, being Annabeth thinking that she needs to keep Percy on his toes (specifically about Rachel in this case) when they’re in Tartarus.

‘Rachel?’ Percy asked. ‘You mean our Rachel? Oracle of Delphi Rachel?’

‘That’s the one.’ Annabeth suppressed a smile.

Whenever she brought up Rachel’s name, Percy got nervous. At one point, Rachel had been interested in dating Percy. That was ancient history. Rachel and Annabeth were good friends now. But Annabeth didn’t mind making Percy a little uneasy. You had to keep your boyfriend on his toes. (HOH, didn’t bother to check chapter number, page 109 of my copy)

So here we see that Annabeth is “keeping him on his toes” but in context, they’re sending a note to Rachel through the Hermes temple in Tartarus. It was not Annabeth bringing it up to mess with him, it was her smiling at the little moment where he was thrown off about Rachel.

Frankly, in general Annabeth doesn’t do anything like that. She occasionally teases Percy but he always teases back. After the Rachel stuff in book 5 things were chill with all of them. We’ve seen no evidence of Percy being uncomfortable with Rachel being brought up, nor Annabeth thinking that it should be brought up for that purpose.

If anything Annabeth has shown some serious abandonment issues in fearing that Percy would leave her over other girls (she needs some therapy after that mess of a childhood but Khiron apparenlty doesn’t think so).

I see this as a case of bad writing with nothing else supporting it, including the scene it happens in.

Even had it actually been something supported by other instances, in the context she says it in it seems more like teasing over an ex where the break was amicable and everyone is still friends, which isn’t abusive or manipulative.

It’s just that Rick is tasteless.

So is Percabeth emotionally/psychologically/verbally abusive? No.

If someone wishes to bring up other instances shoot me an ask.

So in conclusion,

I do not see how it is abusive. There are elements I do not like, and some parts that in my own relationship I wouldn’t be okay with. But in Percy and Annabeth’s relationship they have clear boundaries, they are both more than capable of stopping the other if they do something that upsets them. They have both shown fondness towards the others actions even if it is something that we don’t approve of in our relationships.

If Percy showed upset at her actions that would be different. But we literally see into his mind and he shows no upset at her words or actions. He is fond, he is understanding, and he responds to each instance of teasing with teasing of his own.

Notably I never see people saying Percy is abusive, only Annabeth.

I get a feel that people ask for flawed characters then crucify them if they’re not flawed in easily likeable ways. Annabeth is not a perfect character, I don’t like everything she does, but she is a realistic character and should not be demonized.

TDLR: Annabeth has never purposefully harmed Percy, and Percy has never purposefully harmed her. Neither have verbally/emotionally/psychological taken actions with the intent of harming the other when in their relationship or since becoming friends. There have been instances of upsetting the other but they talked and it clearly was not meant to hurt the other but because they themselves were hurting

Percabeth is not abusive

[light-miracles]

Would it be okay to ask for a writing prompt with SuperBat? Maybe idk Kate’s been missing for ages and Kara has been looking for her non stop and she finally comes back and like visits Kara and Kara just basically breaks down because her best friend was missing and she missed having her worlds finest buddy by her side? I realise this is a long prompt but like I love them and we need more SuperBat fanfics.

Freakin finally, L

......

It was Ally's call what woke her up in the middle of the night, after spending more hours than what she should working in a report for the Senate she had to deliver in two days. Her niece was direct and clear, like all Danvers through the generations. Faintly behind her in the background noise, she could hear Nira Nal's voice telling someone to hold on, not to lose consciousness. Kara immediately stopped feeling any tiredness and got out of the bed. "What?"

"A woman dressed as a bat literally just fell from the sky. Her DNA links her to the Kane family, but she's obviously not Kitty, and her costume seems to be a relic. Aunt Kara, I think it's an accidental time traveler. I need you to-"

Kara ran out her house and in less than ten seconds she was already there.

......

At no point did Kate lose consciousness, but her pain was so intense that she wished she had. She had a vague understanding of everything that had just happened. Alice threatening to blow up the city, the building below her collapsing, she falling, falling, falling uncontrollably and with nowhere to shoot her hook, an excruciating light and then the her painful impact against a car.

Then there was two strange faces in front of her telling her to hold on. Confusing colors. Her mind clouded. At no point the relief of unconsciousness but the blinding torture of pain.

And when she regained her mental clarity, she was sitting in a shiny headquarters, with a couple of weird cables attached to her arm and three people talking around her. Someone had found her and helped her. A great relief washed over her when she recognized Kara. "Super."

"Hey," said Supergirl leaning in front of her. It was Kara. Beautiful, brave Kara. The others must have come to help when they heard of the disaster. Kate wasn't selfish enough not to admit that she was relieved, even if it meant owing Allen a favor. "The city... Alice ..."

"Don't worry, everything is fine," said her friend, putting her shaking hands on her shoulders. "Everything is fine."

"No, it's not okay, the bombs exploded." Kate tried to stand up, remove the cables from her arms, and go back outside where her city needed her. And where was Mary? Luke? Her father?

"Kate, no, don't move, please. You're not fully healed yet."

"I have to help them."

"There's no one to help Kate. Please don't move. Listen to me. Gotham is fine. Everyone is fine. And you have to sit back and let Daydream heal you. She's the best, it won't take long. "

That must be true, because as the seconds passed clearer the image around her became. The lab was very high-tech, bright and white, with things she hadn't seen in her life. The two women next to Kara were strangers and yet they looked familiar. Kara wasn't wearing her outfit but what clearly looked like pajamas, her short hair (short?) tousled like she'd just gotten out of bed.

She looked older. At least ten years older.

"This isn't real," murmured Kate without looking away from her pretty face.

Kara put both hands on her cheeks, holding her gaze. "It's real Kate. I'm here with you."

"Where am I?" she asked trying to control the growing (strange) panic. "What's going on?"

"It's the year 2300," replied Kara slowly. "You have been missing for 280 years."

.....

The only thing that seemed real was Kara's hand holding hers firmly.

Kate thanked her training for her ability of remaining calmed at the face of the strange aspects of her life. It had been useful to her when the Multiverse died because a bald zombie in a robot suit was having a bad day, and it would be useful to her now. If Sara Lance and her team could, so could she. She just had to stick to the facts, evaluate the information, and focus on a way to fix it.

Kara's presence would make it easier.

The brown haired young woman explaining what they thought had happened. In 2020, when Kate fell from the building, somehow a wormhole opened that took her to 2300. For her it had been only seconds. For the rest of the world, centuries.

"Excuse me, what was your name?" asked Kate.

"Ally Danvers," the young woman replied. "I'm Kara's niece."

Kate looked at Kara to confirm, and she nodded. "Great great great something niece, but who counts these days?"

"And I'm Nira Nal, Daydream," the woman a little older than Ally said, stepping forward and bowing slightly. "I think that in your time they shook hands, but we don't do that anymore."

Evidently the little brunette who had been Kara's apprentice had also had a family. Kate nodded again.

"Everything must be very confusing for you, maybe we should give you a moment..."

"How do I come back to 2020?" Kate interrupted. "Someone put me in touch with the Legends. Hell, even Allen would be enough. I don't want to rest, I want to go home and stop Alice."

Ally cleared her throat a little. "It might be a bit more complicated than that. We need a little time to-"

"Look, Agent Danvers 9.0 or whatever, you may have all the time in the world but my city was literally falling apart just now. I have to go back and help my city, now."

It was Kara who answered. "It will take a while, Kate. Time travel isn't that easy anymore. But I'll take you home, I promise."

"This is the future," replied Kate, feeling a sudden rejection for the woman with Kara's face and Kara's voice but that wasn't her Kara. Not completely. "Don't you have loads of time machines and 200 mini Barrys with ridiculous names running around?"

"No, not anymore," Nira Nal replied. "Time travel was completely forbidden years ago. We can bring you home, but it's going to take us a couple of days to get a machine."

"Time travel is forbidden?"

"Yes, I forbade it," said Kara.

Kate turned to look at the blonde woman.

"I'm the President of Earth, Kate."

The bat woman blinked confusedly. "President..."

"Candidate for President of the Solar System next year!" said Nira cheerfully.

It was all too much, and Kate didn't want to show any sign of weakness but it was too much. Kara took her hands. "It's late. Come with me, please. I'll explain everything you want to know at my place, and tomorrow we'll start looking for a time machine. We'll fix it. But Ally and Nira have to go now, someone has to sleep tonight."

Kate still wasn't convinced that she shouldn't just turn around and get out of there.

"World finest, remember?" Kara asked with a small smile.

That helped her make her decision.

....

Kate thought that Kara would take her wherever she was going to take her flying. Instead, they both entered what would in the past have been described as a car but to Kate's eyes looked like a mini tank.

They didn't talk on the way, Kate intently looking at the incredible futuristic city around her, the glowing towers, the long, labyrinth-like streets, the flying vehicles in the sky, and the Kryptonian carefully staring at her at her side. Only Kara could not pay attention to the street at all and drive with absolute safety. Like everything else she did, she did it perfectly.

They left the city towards a two-story red house, which seemed totally mundane. And old, at least for what seemed to be the rest of the future. It had a porsche, two roofs and a small garden where Kate could see a lot of different flowers, dimly lit by the white light coming from the bright lamps.

"I thought you'd live in the White House."

"No, that's still only for the president of the country. I work in the embassy of the planet and live where I want. I use this house when I want to be near Ally and Nira."

"Always taking care of your family."

"You already know me."

Kate still wasn't totally convinced, but she nodded. "The city is not Gotham or National. Where exactly are we?"

"Unity City," replied Kara. "It was founded by Kal 150 years ago."

Still in her Batwoman outfit, Kate got out of the vehicle and rushed into the house, assuming no one was around to see her face or Kara would have said something, the little Bruce in her mind scolding her for having her face uncovered. But she was trying to focus on one problem at a time so she ignored her annoying imaginary cousin.

And it was when the door closed behind them that everything started to feel real.

The place looked so hideously normal that Kate wanted to snap her fingers to make sure no robot butler would come asking for her coat. Kate turned around and Kara was there, by the door, looking at her like she hadn't seen her in centuries and that look of hers broke her heart.

"I know it's only been a few hours for you," said the older-looking short haired Kara. "But I'm so happy to see you, Kate. I thought I'd never see you again. I never knew what happened to you. I thought-" Kara let out a sob.

Kate could never bear to see her sad, so she hugged her. It was the first time all day that she felt like herself. The only thing she felt familiar.

It was Kara. Older, with another hairstyle and almost imperceptible wrinkles around her eyes. But she smelled like Kara. Her hugs felt like Kara's. So Kate closed her eyes and returned her hug with all her strength.

..........

After taking off her batsuit and laying it on a chair, Kate Kane took a quick shower in a bathroom that looked normal except for a small water fountain next to the toilet and the fact that the shower water floated around her instead of falling. After coming out, she dried off and put on a comfortable green pajama that seemed never to have been worn. Probably because it wasn't pink and she didn't imagine Kara's fashion tastes changing, ever.

Kate came out of the bathroom with her hair still wet, studying the house some more. Strangely, Kara no longer had photographs, when in the past she used to have many photos of her friends on her walls. The decor was less colorful too, more sober, fewer kitten figurines and more desks and books and strange objects that Luke would surely kill to use. Kate took one that looked like a remote control, pressed a button, and a small hologram of Saturn appeared in front of her eyes.

"That's a letter they sent me from Titan," said Kara entering the living room, having changed out of her old pajamas for a clean new set. "It turns out that on some of Saturn's moons there are favorable conditions for living. A group of explorers founded a colony fifty years ago."

"Sounds like something out of a bad movie."

"Nobody watches movies anymore, but you're right."

Kate put the remote control down on the table. "Nobody watches movies anymore?"

"Well, I suppose some people still do, but cinematography is considered an ancient art now. They're not as popular as they were in the early 21st century. They're hard to find too."

"Do you still watch movies?"

"You know me, Kate. I couldn't survive without my weekly dose of Frozen," she said smiling and turning away from the door. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

She nodded and entered the deceptively plain-looking kitchen, all the while Kara staring at her as if she might disappear at any moment. Maybe she was going to do it. Maybe this time travel thing was only safe if you were a Flash or had a time machine. Perhaps at any moment the universe would simply erase her as if she had never been born.

The food on the white table in the kitchen looked magnificent. It was a stew with potatoes. Kate didn't know how hungry she was until she smelled it.

"All kosher, of course."

That moved her deeply, but she did not allow her face to show it.

They both sat silently, facing each other, smiled slightly and began to eat in silence, until Kate could no longer ignore her own nerves and looked up at Kara. The blonde looked at her with a smile on her face, as if patiently waiting for her to talk first.

"Sorry, it's all so..."

"Confused."

"Weird," said Kate. "I had lunch with you last week and now you're... older, and we're in the future."

"I remember that lunch very well. It was the last time I saw you," she said with a sad smile. "I ... never stopped looking for you, not even when you were declared legally dead years later. No one gave up. Sara and her team even asked Gideon to look for you through the timeline, but she couldn't find you. I don't understand why."

"Maybe the thing that brought me here was something different," said Kate rubbing her hands together. "I'll look into it when I get home, and I guess you will too."

Part of Kate wanted to ask her about the future, and another part of her wanted to know absolutely nothing. She knew very well that she could be influenced and change what was supposed to be her future. However, her future was Kara's past. Or at least this Kara's, who was similar enough to her friend to trust her and different enough not to let her guard down entirely.

"So, you're president of the planet now."

The blonde nodded. "Yes, for ten years now."

"And you banned time travel."

"I did, yeah," she said, looking away for the first time, using her dinner as an excuse. "Eventually we discovered that it was too dangerous and could have catastrophic consequences so we banned it. The Time Bureou was dismantled. Brainy had to go back to his own time immediately."

"Consequences like what?"

"The timeline is much more fragile than it seems. Also, for example, if two people from different times have a child, it can create a paradox that could swallow the universe. It was too risky and I had to ban it. That's why believe me when I tell you that take you back to 2020 is practically a global priority, and you will be back very soon."

Kate's instinct told her that there was something Kara wasn't telling her, but she decided not to press it right away. "Good. Meeting Mia was good, but there are also dangerous assholes like Reverse Flash. And I respect and appreciate Sara and Barry but..."

"They were like lemurs with machine guns?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, more or less," said Kara with a sad smile. Kate realized that she had spoken in the past tense about their friends.

"And... is there anyone left?"

Kara's gaze lit up, and she drank a glass of water before answering. "Kal is still in Metropolis, but he's taking some sabbatical years. He's not as active as before but if anyone deserves a break it's him. J'onn is still alive, but he's very old, and can't move as much as before. His children and I visit him very often."

"Children? Oh, good for him."

"Yes," Kara smiled. "He and M'gann were very nervous at first, no one had had yellow Martians in millennia."

"Yellow?"

"Children of green and white Martians."

"Sounds colorful. Anyone else?"

"Charlie, Sara's friend. She hasn't really changed. It's as if time hasn't passed for her. Andrea Rojas is also-"

"Fuck, your awful boss is still alive? What the hell?"

Kara laughed, smiling like old times and making Kate feel her heart flutter. "She's not been my boss in centuries, thank goodness. And it turned out she's half Jarhanpurian. That was a long time ago," she said leaning forward, as if she were going to tell her a secret. "Do you remember Gemma Cooper?"

"Walmart Karen?" said Kate, and they both shared a laugh as they remembered what they used to call the old hideous Obsidian North member.

"Well, Gemma was secretly part of this group of Jarhanpurians hidden in the planet, Leviathan. At that time we didn't know it but she was Andrea's mother."

"Ugh, so a jerk and with super powers."

"And one of them is to age as slowly as a Kryptonian," Kara drank water again. "She's on Titan now, sometimes she sends me letters."

"Then she must not be a jerk anymore," said Kate quietly. And she suddenly knew she had to change the subject before asking about who she really wanted to ask. Mary. Luke. Sophie. Her father.

Alice

Whenever she thought of her sister she only felt pain.

"I have to go home, Kara."

"I know. I'll do anything I can to make you come back safe and sound."

Kate sighed wearily. "Being here can't be good for the timeline."

"Don't worry about that, the timeline can fix itself when you come back to 2020." Kara reached out and cupped her hand on the table, gently stroking her knuckles. Kate wished she hadn't. She was still as intensely beautiful as she was when they first met, and Kate at the time was too tired to be careful not to do something stupid, like tell her she loved her and ask her to kiss her.

So she just smiled wearily. "World Finest?"

Kara's eyes gleamed. "Always."

[themarvellouswriter]

WIN MY HEART

Pairing: Winston Duke x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Winnie and the reader are acting buddies and things get a little heated up after a movie premiere.

Genres: Smut. Porn with plot.

A/N: If this gets enough notes, I may write a part two but for now enjoy! Also, I’ve marked where smut begins and ends (if you’re looking for fluff).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took a deep breath and pushed open the car door. You were met with blinding flickers of light. You smiled flashing your pearly whites to the crowd. The noise surrounding you grew louder. You stood up revealing a smooth expanse of your leg.

The gold material of your dress fluttered flatteringly and you seemed to glow under the lights. You waved at the paparazzi as you walked towards the venue where your latest movie was about to premiere. You waited at the door as you answered a few questions about it. Your answers matched your excitement. “I can’t wait for everyone to watch this! Its going to be amazing!!” You gushed, face warm.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a limousine stop. Winston Duke stepped out. He was dressed in a vivid green suit with a polka dotted shirt. He stood tall and gave everyone a dazzling smile. He had your heart racing and blood pumping in your ears. You both had been good friends for a few years now and you had fallen completely head over heels for him sometime. This was your second film together and both of you had been thrilled at the opportunity to work together again.

He engulfed you in a hug as he reached you. You smiled up at him and answered a few more questions and headed inside.

Your arms were linked as you made your way to your seats which were next to each other, both of you being the main leads. You settled down comfortably as you waited for the movie to begin. You were playing the morally dubious villain to his self righteous hero. Your mind drifted back to the table read, your characters had complemented each other’s perfectly and the official shoot had started just a few days later. Right now, it was more elbow touching and knee brushing which was keeping you distracted. Little did you know, you had a similar effect on him.

You forced yourself to focus on the screen, just in time to see yourself execute a flawless backflip off the roof of the building you were in. You watched as you hit the water, secretly impressed by your skills. You personally felt that the scene had been impossible to shoot because you knew you had the strength of a newborn. You had cried after messing it up for what felt like the millionth time. Winston had been there to brush away your tears and had comforted you by bringing your favourite ice cream by your trailer. The next time you shot it, it had gone over beautifully. You treated him to dinner and the smile he’d given you afterwards had made your day.

The scene cut to Winston’s surprised and mildly impressed expression as he peered over the edge. “You did good. I think its my favourite scene so far,” he murmured from beside you, careful to not disturb the others watching. You squeezed his arm in response.

Eventually the movie ended and the crowd began to clear out, after offering their congratulations. Next was a dinner with the cast and crew to celebrate. Winston and you had been separated sometime ago and now your gaze kept drifting to where he was supposed to be. You mingled with your friends from the movie before being led out to dinner.

You found yourself next to Winston at the dinner table again. It held about fifteen people, closely sitting together. Much more close than you would’ve thought. Every single time either of you moved, the other could feel it. You tried to keep your fidgeting to a minimum but you were getting tired.

It took you a while to realise that while you’d been maintaining a cheery conversation with one of your producer friends to you right, you had stopped feeling Winston moving. You discretely turned your head to find his arm on the back of your chair. You hid a smile and continued making conversation.

As dinner wrapped up and everyone headed out, you approached Winston, offering to walk him back to his hotel. He agreed and you both left the venue together. His hotel was not far so you reached there shortly. You both stared at each other for a moment before you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away, you noticed how his eyes moved to your lips. Suddenly, a wave of confidence flooded you (mostly due to the way too many glasses of wine you’d had) and you kissed him. As quickly as you had, you brain seemed to short circuit and you pulled back horrified. “Oh crap, Winnie. I’m sorry. I -” You were cut off by him pulling you flush against his body and kissing you deeply.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and kissed back. Hard. It rough, messy and sloppy. Teeth involved and not every well practiced. Any director would be ashamed to see such a kiss happening. You didn’t care. Apparently, Winston didn’t either. He merely gripped your waist tighter. You lost yourself in it and were growing almost dizzy with the lack of air. Finally, both of you parted, foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes were closed, and you didn’t dare to open them afraid that he was going to slip out of your arms any second. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,” he said, his voice slightly husky. “You and me both.” You force yourself to look at him in the eyes. He looks like he’s glowing, the lights behind casting a halo over him, Slightly rumpled clothes and his lips stained with your lipstick. You laugh. He smiles. “I’ve got your lipstick on me, don’t I?” You murmur a yes. He smiles wider as he pulls you into another bruising kiss.

“Come up.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I can’t wait any more.”

“Neither can I.”

You don’t know how you made it to his room. You’re fairly certain that the sight of two A – listers making out like there is no tomorrow would’ve startled anyone. You feel yourself pressed against the wall, Winston laying feverish kissed on your jaw, neck and everywhere else. You gaze dazedly, making sure that the door is locked. As if sensing your question, Winston pulls the handle. It doesn’t budge.

You turn your attention to him. He’s looking at you like you hung the moon, the stars and then some. You turn bashful and distract him by pulling off his blazer. Your heart is hammering away in your chest and given Winston’s proximity you’re sure he can feel it too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His mouth is back on yours as he leads you towards the bed. You accidentally hip check a wayward table or chair but you can’t be bothered to look. Winston has your entire heart and soul and mind in his hands and you’re way beyond the point of caring.

His fingers deftly pull down the zip of your dress and it falls from your shoulders. Your brain is unable comprehend all what he’s doing, just vague flashes of passion as his mouth finds a particularly sweet spot on you clavicle or as his fingers gently graze an erogenous zone on your body.

You’re breathing hard as you slip out of your dress. You fumble with his shirt buttons and he pulls it off his head, separating only for a moment before his attention is back on you. You’re growing heady with desire as you undo his belt. He has you against the bed as you fall, the backs of your knees hitting the frame. His trousers pool around his ankles as he steps out. He’s towering above you.

Your pupils are blown as you drink in the sight of Winston’s half naked body. His underwear leaving nothing to imagination. Heat floods your body as you prop yourself up on your elbows and pull him down by the slim chain around his neck. He wedges a knee between your legs as he bends down and starts kissing up your sternum. One of your hands is on the back of his neck and the other is tracing patterns on his broad chest. You run your fingers through his close cropped hair and feel him lean into your touch.

He nips the delicate skin at the base of your neck as you arch your back, giving him access to remove your bralette. His fingers move with ease as his hand glides across your now bare back. You lightly tug his head and lay soft kisses on his mouth. He pulls himself forward, his knee now rubbing against your heat. You reach and pull off the last garment separating your bare chest from his.

His black eyes seem indecipherable as they stare at you, in all your glory.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.”

“How can I when you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?”

You let his words wash over you. The giddiness of a schoolgirl in love is almost too much for you to bear. You kiss him like you’ve never kissed before. This one is harder, rougher and passionate. He’s kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. His hold on you is gentle yet firm. Like you’re delicate, one wrong move and you’ll break in his hands.

His hands move lower to rid you of your final piece of clothing. Warm hands on your hips, slowly pulling the material down. Not wanting to be the only one who’s naked, you pull his down too. You rest your hands on his hips, areas marred by stretch marks. He stiffens above you. Sensing his slight insecurity, you give him a reassuring smile.

“All of you is perfect. Not just the face everyone loves. All of you. You’re perfect.”

The change is immediate. His movements are more confident than before. He’s big and in desperate need of release and as much as both of you are enjoying the gentle caresses and languid kisses, you wish for him to move so you can feel him everywhere. You wrap your legs around his waist.

“Please. More.”

“For you, anything.”

He has you by the waist and moves lower. His breathing is uneven, as affected by you as you are by him. It gives you an incredible amount of satisfaction knowing that he feels what you feel for him. He peppers kisses on your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as he bites the joint of your thigh and hip. He mouth is now dangerously close to your sex and the warm breaths he’s leaving is only making your senses rush into overdrive.

His mouth has made way to your folds. You close your eyes at the wave of pleasure that is consuming your body, his tongue doing wonderful things to you. Your head is spinning with his burning touch. His hands were cool but against your hot skin, they felt like ice. Your skin feels like it is on fire as you clench your fingers in the sheets.

You feel him push a finger inside you and your body shudders in response.

“If you’re going to take me, I need to prep you well.”

He pushes another finger and your body is akin to a tightly coiled spring. You’re a withering mess under him, desperate gasps leaving your mouth.

“If you’re going for torture, it’s working. Just move.”

He’s now three fingers in and you’re resisting the urge to very rudely tell him to move faster.

By the time he’s four fingers in, your words are a garbled mess of his name. You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He’s lightly biting the underside of your jaw and in the back of your mind you think that maybe there’ll be a hickey there tomorrow.

Winston’s breathing is now slower. Understanding that he wants to take deep breaths with him, you follow his lead. Your mind clears and everything comes back into focus. More or less.

He pulls out and you whimper at the loss of contact. You feel him smile against the side of your neck as his sex enters your body. You feel the stretch burning your entire body. You’re secretly grateful that he took his time but now you want him to move.

“Move. Please for the love god, move.”

A laugh escapes him as he brushes a wayward strand of hair from your face. The hand on your back is pressing firmly you against him. He shifts slightly and you moan your approval in his ear. It seems snap something in him because he’s now pushing his entire length inside you, making you nearly weep in pleasure.

Time doesn’t exist because all you can think of is Winston. He uses his other hand you interlace your fingers and grip your delicate hand in his much larger one. He’s breathing hard as he slowly begins thrusting into you. Long, slow movements which make you want to scream.

“I won’t break.”

“I know. You’re too strong to break.”

He picks up the pace, spurred on by your broken words of encouragement. The faint night light from the windows make him look ethereal and for a moment you wonder if all this just a fever dream.

But then you see Winston smile at you and squeeze your hand and you realise that this is real. He’s real. And the fact that you’re completely at his mercy is also real. And a very large part of you enjoys it.

Winston is practiced. He knows what he’s doing. He knows what is going to make you feel good and it driving you up the wall. Being so close to your release but just not there. A tear slips from your eyes and within seconds, its wiped away.

“I know you’re close. Do it for me.”

With one last, powerful thrust, you’re like putty under him. Your back is arched and head thrown back as a strong, overwhelming orgasm takes over you. You’re repeating his name like a mantra and that is all it takes for him to come undone shortly after.

You both collapse next to each other, hands still interlaced.

“I’d say let’s go for round two but I don’t think I can handle it.”

He lets out a breathy laugh which has you feeling all types of ways.

“To be honest, neither can I. This was good. Extremely good.”

You both don’t bother clearing up the mess you’ve made, too caught up in each other to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up alone. Winston’s spot beside you is cool. You panic thinking he left but then you hear the shower running. He appears at the bathroom door, in just a towel, having heard you sit up.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to join me for a shower or are we going to waste water by taking two showers?”

You smile and let the sheets fall away from your body as you make your way towards him. He can’t his eyes off you as he admires every inch, every curve, every imperfection.

You press a warm kiss to his mouth, not in the least bit concerned about morning breath. You then press your entire body against his, making him moan.

“Well then. What’re you waiting for?”

[wallwriterstuff]

Anything You Can Do ||Demetri Volturi x Child!Oc||

Part 1: From The Doorstep 

Words: 3125

Warnings: None, just the usual parenting troubles

Summary: Part 2 to From The Doorstep (you can read this on it’s own I suppose but for the full backstory of how Demetri became a Daddy click the link to read From The Doorstep first!)

Demetri has faced many challenges since becoming a father, fighting hard for his little one every step of the way, so separating himself from her for a few hours a day is a lot more difficulty than he’d expected it to be. In short, this is what happens when mother hen Demetri sends Astraea Volturi to nursery! 

Demetri had never had a formal education like the kind the modern world provided youths nowadays. His education had consisted of lectures and practicing the practical elements of life; in so far as he remembered that often meant his father showing him how to knock an arrow or turn soil, then clipping his ear when he didn’t get it quite right. Still, it had served him well, and until the day Amun took him what little he remembered of his human life was successful. He had been healthy and his homestead was sustainable, he had done well for himself. Convincing him that sending Astraea to school was a good thing to do was therefore very difficult when he would have rather kept her home at his side, tutored by the Masters’ and other members of the guard.

He himself had degrees in geography, history and philosophy. Alec had degrees in all of the sciences. There was nothing in this world that she needed to know that they could not teach, but after reading through a few parenting books and websites (not that he was ever going to admit he’d scoured Mumsnet and various other mommyblogs – the torment would be never ending) he very quickly realised there was one thing he had failed to do as her father, one crucial element of growing up he had not provided for her in the five years she had been a part of his life.

He had not socialised her with other children.

At home, mixing with her found family, Astraea had no problems at all. She chattered happily with everyone that loved her and played nicely with the twins, but when they went out it was a different story. Demetri had noticed it more than once, her tendency to stay to herself when they went to the park or to cling to him until he pushed her to go a little further away to explore not something she shared with other children her age. After lengthy discussions about how much she had noticed about the coven and how much she might accidentally say to any school friends she might make, permission had been granted and Demetri had enrolled her in a local nursery. He hoped that meeting other humans from all walks of life might do her some good, but the first few weeks dropping her off in the mornings were hell.

Astraea’s first day had consisted of Demetri’s ears ringing as she sobbed and screamed at the top of her lungs, anxious about him leaving her in this strange new place with brand new people. He had held her close for most of that time, taking her around the room and trying to tempt her with some of the toys and activities on offer. No child had wanted to interact with the screamer clinging fast to her father’s hand and he had been forced to sit and listen to ridiculous, childish stories on a dusty floor surrounded by little humans all much more independent than his own Astraea was.

Day 2 was very much the same, the entire week passing by with little change until she surprised him by venturing a little further from him on the last day. They only spent a few hours at a time there but she knew the room well enough to know what she liked doing, and she’d sat at the drawing table on her own for a little while, checking all the while to make sure he hadn’t left her alone before she came back with a drawing for him. He felt awful that first week, like he had failed his daughter terribly, and it didn’t feel like it got much better for a very long time. She would traverse the room, but she wouldn’t talk to the staff running the nursery or the other children, selectively mute and never letting anyone but him hear her sweet voice.

It took a lot of slow progress, but after almost a full month, he was able to finally leave her for her first full day without him. Demetri had never felt anxiety like it. It clawed at the back of his mind, every minute dragged out into a small eternity as he waited for the moment he could pick her up, wondering if the other children were kind to her, if she was having fun, if she had injured herself with those oversized building blocks he had tried to steer her away from. It was a great relief to see her come streaking toward him when he came to pick her up, the venom stinging his eyes even though he could not cry as he cradled her close and pressed a lingering kiss to her hair.

“How was your day sweet girl?” he’d asked. Her answering smile was blinding bright, banishing his dark thoughts far far from his head – at least until tomorrow when he left her again.

“I think I have a friend now, but I missed you Daddy.” She’d replied. That was the first day that she had mentioned this friend, and it had been a welcome relief since it was what he had sent her to nursery for. Then one friend became two, and two became three, three became four, and suddenly there was a whole group that welcomed her every morning and said goodbye to her every afternoon. This is a good thing he told himself over and over, She is interacting with children her age, this is a good thing. So…why did it not feel like it?

Every night as the clock crept closer and closer to the dreaded time he would have to wake her and get her ready, a hollow would open in the pit of his stomach and it would grow and grow until it nearly consumed him whole. Demetri was forced to fake every smile he gave her as he helped her dress and tie shoelaces, and the hollowness was nothing compared to the bitterness that replaced it when he dropped her off each day. It was not jealousy, he was Demetri Volturi and he was not jealous of little humans, he was not! But she did seem to enjoy their company far more. She all but ran into the nursery room these days, desperately wiggling out of her coat to join her friends. Sometimes he had to chase her down just to get his goodbye cuddles. It took him a while to understand exactly what this horrible feeling was, and then it hit him.

She didn’t need him anymore.

The Astraea that clung to his legs when new people approached her was gone. She was more confident and smiled brighter. Even going to the park wasn’t the same as she actually got involved in other children’s games, and though Demetri wanted to be happy he had helped his daughter overcome the shyness he had accidentally instilled in her, he was quietly mortified by the whole process. He hadn’t realised preparing her for the world meant preparing her to leave him behind, and Demetri…wasn’t ready. Astraea didn’t even seem to notice his pain, his bubbly little girl far too excited about all of her new friends and school to register it.  

School was another thing Demetri was dreading. How much less would she need him once she started to formally learn to read, to write? How many more new friends would take her away from his side? Goodness knows what would happen if she wanted to sleep at a friends house. He might just sit outside the place on an opposite rooftop to keep an eye on her if that happened, he wasn’t sure he could cope. He wondered though if maybe school might also be better in some way, more structure and less play. It might knock out some of the odd habits she’d picked up from nursery at least.

He’d noticed it first a fortnight ago, after she’d asked to take something of his into nursery for something called show and tell and he’d given her an antique compass alongside a well-rehearsed story about how he travelled for work. When he’d picked her up that afternoon she’d reverently held his compass in her hands and had a grand old time “reading” it, giving him directions about which way to turn as she rode on his shoulders in their mission to find her after nursery snack. He had played it off as some lingering excitement and a fun game to play. They’d been looking at pirates in the nursery after all and pirates did love to find buried treasure.

A few days after that, he’d found his shoes had gone missing, and the scent in his room led him right to Astraea’s door. His first instinct had been to immediately stop her clomping about in his polished, far too big shoes, but then he’d paused and amusedly watched as she slammed her feet down to awkwardly waddle down her line of teddy bears, pointing to each one in turn and giving them orders. It was something she had seen him do with the lower guard, he and Felix in charge of their combat training and often talking to them about footwork and rules of engagement. Hearing them come tumbling from her mouth had almost made him laugh until she had repeated a few choice words from Uncle Felix’s repertoire he’d had to have a stern talk with both of them about.

It was little things like that that had added up over the span of two weeks that had confused and amused him to no end. Poor imitations of his growling, standing with one little arm tucked behind her back. She’d even copied the way he greeted Felix and other members of the guard in the halls, nodding at them with a quick enunciation of their name. The strange habit of mimicking his actions had extended to Uncle Felix to, and Uncle Alec and Aunt Jane, though he had to admit it was hilarious to watch her glare the young boy who had accidentally crushed her artwork with his foot as he stood from the carpet into submission, Jane’s signature smile on her lips as she did it. She looked almost disappointed that she hadn’t been able to make him writhe in agony as she did so and Demetri had had a quiet word with Jane about ensuring she didn’t use her gift in front of Astraea anymore.

It had all culminated in one silly little argument one morning as they got ready for another day at nursery, one of the last coming up before the Christmas holidays. Demetri was feeling the same hollowness he always felt, not in the mood for her to push his patience as she was, and it was all over a stupid necklace. He was crouched before her, hand outstretched as he waited with all the patience he possessed for him to place her coven crest back into his open palm. She held it clutched tight in her tiny little fists, small knuckles turning white with the effort as she shook her head vigorously, holding it close to her chest.

“No! I want to wear it!” she repeated. This was the fourth time she’d told him as much despite his protests.  

“Astraea Volturi I have been patient enough with you, you are not allowed to take it and that is final, now hand it back to me. Now.” Demetri ordered, curling his fingers for added emphasis.

“No!” she cried, lower lip protruding in a pout and trembling slightly. Demetri blinked, surprised by her reaction. He hadn’t expected his daughter to get this upset over it, but she looked genuinely distraught at the thought he might take it from her. He sighed, letting his hand drop and resting his forearms on his thighs, hands clasping as he studied her tight grip on the necklace. She hadn’t really worn it before, since it was rather large and she was still only small, so it would hang down her torso for sure and probably snag on things. He didn’t want her choking if the chain got caught on anything, or for her to lose it. It was a great honour to be part of their coven and she would cherish it in the years to come, but not at the tender age of five.

“Sweet girl, I worry you will lose it, or perhaps hurt yourself if it becomes caught on anything as you play. It would be safer to leave it at home.” He tried. Astraea shook her head again, turning her body away from him. He knew full well he could take it from her without any resistance but he had sworn to never use force on his daughter long ago.

“I’ll be careful!” she promised. Her small shoulders were all hunched up, so tense as she gripped onto her necklace tight. Demetri rolled his eyes skyward and took in a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before he exhaled slowly and checked his watch. They were going to be very late if this carried on.

“I am sure you would be, but that still does not mean it is safe to take it to nursery.” He reasoned.

“But I need it!” she whined. Demetri’s brows furrowed, mind racing as fear gripped him tight. She needed it? What had she said to the other children that required her to take in her coven necklace? Had she mentioned the crest? The Volturi?

“Why?” Demetri asked, keeping his voice as level as he could so as to not alert her to his underlying panic. There was a long moment of pure silence, neither of them saying anything as his anxiety grew till he was forced to press for an answer. When Astraea turned to face him, her puppy dog eyes made him falter.

“To be like you. You always wear yours.” She pointed to the golden ‘V’ visible against his chest, and Demetri subconsciously reached his fingers up to run them over the cold metal. His expression softened slightly and he lowered himself to the ground, gesturing for his daughter to come and sit with him. She hesitated for a moment before he motioned to her once more, her little legs carrying her right to his lap where she made herself comfortable. Demetri wrapped his arms around her, looking down at her inquisitively.

“Now why on earth would you want to be like me?” he asked. Astraea was everything to him. She was his happy, bright, gorgeous, warm, curious, sweet little girl, and he wouldn’t have changed her for anything in the world. To hear she wanted to be like him…well the most selfish parts of him relished in the news. She kept her crest in her lap now, looking up at him with a small frown.

“Miss Bellomo asked what we wanted to be when we were bigger, and I want to be a hero like you that protects people.” She said. Demetri felt his cold, dead heart shatter into a million pieces. For obvious reasons Astraea didn’t know the full scope of what he did, to her he was a security guard that protected the castle, and sometimes he had to go away to find people who had tried to get into the castle and give them a telling off. He was sure she’d be horrified if she knew the truth, that he was an executioner more so than a hero, but to see himself through her eyes was extraordinary and eye opening. Suddenly, all of the little things he’d caught her doing made sense.

Every gesture of his she had mimicked, she had done in an effort to be like him. Astraea had never left him behind at all; he was always in her mind, the protector and hero that was always with her. Demetri held her close, burying his nose in her hair to inhale her sweet scent. He didn’t care that it made his throat burn horribly. He simply needed to be close to his daughter and have a little time to compose himself. When he pulled back, he clasped her head to his lips and pressed a firm kiss against her hairline.

“Oh my sweet, sweet girl, no. Please do not try to be like me.” He whispered, voice raw with unshed emotion. Her little face fell into a frown again.

“Why can’t I be like you?” she asked. Demetri stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“You cannot be like me because I need you to keep being like you,” he replied, “Astraea, my sweet girl, there are so many people in this world who would seek to change you, the way you look or the way you act, but never let them. You are kind and strong, and smart and funny…to be anything other than yourself is taking away so much good from this world. Do you understand?” He knew she most likely didn’t, not fully, but after a minute to process it, she nodded, curls bouncing around her face.

“So…I have to be me?” she asked. Demetri nodded.

“Yes. You must always be you. I love you very much as you are. You are my hero, my sweet girl.” He kissed her forehead, the adoration he felt for his little girl ten times stronger than it had ever been before. She beamed up at him, throwing her small arms around his neck to hug him close to her. Demetri returned the hug whole heartedly, vaguely noting that hollowness that had plagued him was entirely gone now. She was certainly a hero, she’d saved him from himself.

“Will you keep it safe for me?” she held out her coven crest to him and Demetri stared down at it for a long moment before gently curling her fingers back around the metal.

“How about we compromise? If you promise to keep it in your nursery bag and not take it out for any reason, you can take it with you.” He suggested. Her eyes sparkled and she nodded vigorously.

“I promise I promise!” she cheered. Demetri chuckled.

“Okay then. Let’s put it in your bag now and go, we are already late.” He watched her bounce up from his lap, bounding over her to small backpack with all the eagerness of an overly excited puppy. Demetri had never expected that when he enrolled his daughter in nursery, he would be the one to learn something new. Sometimes parenting required you to step back, not too far, but just enough so you could watch your children thrive from a distance you could easily cross when you were needed, and Astraea still very much needed him, even if it didn’t feel like it all the time.

[prophetandprincess]

Tin Man - The Lost Chapter

This is the first part of my multichapter Marvel fic. If you prefer to read on Ao3 here is the link.

Summary: Alexandra is a 22 year old college sophomore studying Biochemistry. Since she moved to the city from a small Midwest town 2 years before she has had a colorful dating history, but all of her exes have taught her skills to survive in the city. However, walking home one night, one of the exes, Markus, decides that Alex’s smart mouth needs to learn a lesson. She is saved by a mysterious stranger who doesn’t have a lot to say and has a metal arm. This act of kindness sets off a series of events that turn her life into something straight out of a movie.

Trigger Warnings: Attempted sexual assault, threatening language, blood, violence Author Note: Sometimes, you are reading through a previous work because you're attempting to get back into the story but have forgotten everything you have written. And sometimes, while you are reading through a work, the page numbers are off, which is VERY aggravating. So, you go where you published the story to see if something accidentally got deleted. You find that it wasn't, but that when you published the story literally years ago, you missed posting a whole ass chapter.So, here is the lost chapter, which takes place between Chapter 5-6. If I have completely lost my mind and this chapter IS somewhere in the story, sorry about the second posting. Things are a little crazy over here these days.

Alex pulled out her phone, mainly to have something to do because she was still shaken up. She had a missed call and a text message from Mr. Malone. She sighed and opened the text. They were putting in a new door when I came in. Left bags inside. Looks like it has been mauled by a bear. What happened? Alex thought about answering, but decided she didn’t have the energy to think up a convincing lie. She texted back a simple thank you and threw the phone back into her purse. “Why are there so many damaged buildings?” James asked as they headed for the subway station. “Left over damage from the Battle of New York. Most areas have been so worried about rebuilding the destroyed buildings that they haven’t taken care of the cosmetic stuff. Brooklyn really didn’t even get the worst of it, not compared to places like Hell’s Kitchen, but Brooklyn’s been slow to deal with the damage.” Alex explained. The Battle had happened the summer before Alex was supposed to move to the city. She had been trying to figure out what to tell her parents about deciding to go to New York University, which had offered her a full ride scholarship. They had all watched in horror as the city was blasted to pieces and a hole opened in the sky. Alex remembered looking for Stark Tower on the news, because if it still stood, then everything else would somehow be okay. If Tony Stark had kept his tower safe than the rest of New York couldn’t be the hell that it looked like. Her heart sank when she saw that the portal was coming from the Tower itself. That’s when she knew New York, the world, would never be the same. After that, she decided she wasn’t going to tell her parents that she was going to New York until a week before she was leaving for freshman orientation. They had been horrified, her mother breaking down into tears and her father spending all night out in the barn. They had called Jake to fly home and talk some sense into her. She had moved up her flight time and left before he ever touched down in the city. “The Battle of New York,” James said the words slowly. “You didn’t know it happened did you?” Alex said as they headed down the steps to the subway. “Are you are missing that part of your memory as well? Or is that when you were overseas?” “I don’t think I was awake for it.” Alex turned, thinking he was being funny, but James’s face was still and serious. Had he been in a coma? What the hell was this guy’s story? The subway train was a lot less crowded and they both got a seat, James hesitated before sitting down next to Alex. Alex made a point to look out the window during the whole trip, her arms burning and her legs shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to tell herself it was just the cold. She tried not to think about the number of times she had been attacked in the last forty-eight hours. She tried to retreat behind her walls of calm and collectedness. She failed. She felt James’s eyes fall on her multiple times, but he made no move to comfort her or speak. When they got off the subway, Alex stopped to buy herself a coffee from a street cart. She didn’t offer to buy James one, it didn’t even cross her mind. He didn’t say anything. Alex unlocked the door to the apartment building and trudged up the flight of stairs, only to be greeted by a new door and a sticky note saying that Jason, the maintenance man, had the new set of keys. Alex knew that she could pick the lock if she needed to, but she didn’t have the energy. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Alex sighed as she walked down to the basement, where Jason’s apartment was. She knocked loudly on the door, knowing that he probably had his Xbox headset on, and waited for him to get untangled to open the door. “Hey A.J.,” Jason said with a yawn as he opened the door. He was the normal maintenance man in a rundown apartment building, late twenties, single, not exactly known for his hygiene, but extremely pleasant. He was the landlord’s younger brother and while he was pretty good was a hammer and a wrench, Alex got the feeling that he was shoved down here almost to hide him from the rest of the world. “Hey Jason, what are we playing today?” It was forced cheerfulness, but Alex didn’t want another person to ask her what was wrong. She might start crying. “Oh, Destiny. I just got it and it is wicked,” Jason said with a smile. “You want to come in a watch?” “Sorry, I have a test to study for. They said you had my new keys?” “Right, right. That door was annihilated, girl. You need to be more careful with those guys.” Jason said as he reached into the bowl by the door and pulled out a set of keys. “If you ever need help, you can always come down and get me. Or call, you have my number.” “Thanks Jason,” Alex said with a sigh as she took the keys from him. She loved that everyone wanted to keep her safe, but if one more person showed concern she might scream. She was a twenty-two year old woman who could, under most circumstances, take care of herself. The references to her dating history was also starting to get old. They were assholes, that is why she broke up with them. Alex got back up to the fifth floor and everything hurt. She didn’t think she had ever been more tired. James was leaning against the door frame. He’s eyes questioned her, but Alex just unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Son of a bitch,” Alex said as she tripped over the shopping bags from earlier, completely forgetting that Mr. Malone said he had left them right inside the door. Alex felt tears start to well up in her eyes and became even more furious with herself. “Are you alright?” James asked, but Alex just kicked the bag out of the way, slammed her coffee cup down on the counter, and stomped into her bedroom. She slammed the door shut and dropped onto her bed. A few tears leaked out of her eyes, she brushed them away furiously. “Alex?” James voice called through the door. “Just give me a minute, Jesus.” Alex called back, angry that her voice shook. She buried her face in the pillow, and screamed. After she was out of breath, she let herself cry silently for a solid ten minutes. It wasn’t just the fight with James, it was just everything that had happened in the past two days. A lot of it was James’s fault, but if hadn’t been around, she knew she would be dead. Alex finally rolled onto her back and took a few deep breaths. Alex hated crying, she found it completely unhelpful because that time could be used to work toward a solution. However, sometimes you just needed a good cry. It was also supposed to help clear your skin or something else too. But you can’t cry forever. Alex sat up and used a tissue to blow her nose. She then stripped out of her clothes and pulled on a pair of oversized sweatpants and a hoodie. Alex braided her hair and used makeup remover to scrub her wrecked makeup off her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before emerging from her room. James jumped off the couch when she entered the living room, worry and guilt written all over his face. Alex took a good deal satisfaction in that look. James didn’t try to say anything, but his blue eyes searched for some sort of answer. She didn’t have one. “I…I cleaned up the coffee. It splattered everywhere,” James explained. “Well at least you’re good for something,” Alex mumbled as she walked into the kitchen. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she didn’t care. She had to channel her emotions somewhere and James was standing right there. “I’m going to make some hot cider, do you want any?” Alex asked as she poured water into the kettle and put it over the flames. “Do you have tea?” James asked. Alex snorted. “Orange or Chamomile?” She asked as she grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. “You don’t just have regular tea?” James asked. Alex just stopped and glared at him for a few seconds. “Orange will be fine,” James said as he took a seat at the table. Alex got out the milk and sugar for James as she waited for the water to heat up. She also pulled a bottle of aspirin out of a drawer and took two, dry. All of her aches and pains were starting to get to her. Finally the kettle started to whistle and she made the drinks. Both were silent as she put the mugs on the table and James fixed his tea the way he wanted it. As Alex waited for him to start she started to become more and more unsure if this was a story she wanted to hear. If she could emotionally handle it right now. However, the longer they sat there sipping their drinks the more restless she became. She really did have a test that she had to study for. Alex knew that her priorities were out of order, but it was the only way to keep herself sane. Plus, she needed to keep that scholarship. “I am not going to tell you specifics,” James finally said setting his tea mug down. “Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t want to put you in more danger.” James folded his hands, the metal flashing in the afternoon light. Alex wanted to protest, but a bit of the truth would be better than no truth at all. She folded her feet underneath herself and wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug. The picture of friendly interest. James picked at a scar on his hand, collecting his thoughts. “I was a solider of the U.S. military, part of a specialized group of fighters.” “Like Black ops?” Alex asked. She knew she shouldn’t interrupt, but just listening had never been her strong suit. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, we worked on a number of high risk and dangerous missions. On one of these missions I got injured and separated from my team. They thought I was dead, I should be dead, but I survived.” James stopped here. “Is that how you got the metal arm? This accident?” Alex asked. “The bones were basically turned to powder. Considering the fall, my entire body should have looked like that, but I survived.” James flexed the fingers on his metal hand. “Maybe it would have been better if it had turned out the other way.” They both sat for a few seconds thinking about this statement. Alex’s knee-jerk reaction was to comfort James, but she was worried that if she interrupted the story she would never hear all of it. She had also out of emotional energy for the day. “Anyway, I was found, treated, and brought back to good health. My memories, everything, were erased gone. The only thing I knew was what the people who saved me told me. So I worked for them and were until recently when my memories started coming back.” “That’s why you came to New York,” Alex said connecting the dots. James nodded. “I got here and nothing looked familiar. My memory would come and go and I got disorientated. That’s why I was walking around that night I saw you forced into the alley.” James said finishing the story. “I have a question,” Alex said as she finished her cider. “I’m pretty sure you have more than one,” James said with a small smile. “True, but that will take hours,” Alex said with an answering smile. “How did you get back to the states? You said you got injured in the war, that’s a long way from home.” “I was on a mission in the states when my memories started to come back,” James explained. Alex nodded as she digested this information. This wasn’t really anything that Alex hadn’t figured out on her own, but the news about him working for someone other than the military was interesting. Not only that, but it sounded like it was also some sort of mercenary organization. Then a thought popped into her head that chilled her. “The people, who saved you…” Alex picked her next words carefully. “They are not exactly friendly are they?” Not as laid back as she wanted it to sound, but the general meaning was there. “That’s one way of putting it,” James said with a ghost of as laugh before turning serious. “They have a view of the world and how it should be. They don’t like opinions that aren’t in line with theirs and will destroy anyone in their way.” “Terrorists?” Alex’s voice was a lot shakier that she planned it to be. Terrorists and terrorism were buzz words that had almost always been a part of Alex’s life. The life of any kid that grew up in American since 2001. However, talking to someone who might have worked for a terrorist organization terrified her. And here she thought she did have any more terror to expend. “I don’t know if they would classify themselves that way. Hey,” James reached across the table to take her hand, but she flinched despite herself. James pulled his hand back and cleared his throat. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” James said seriously. “Even if it’s you?” Alex asked without looking up at him. “Especially if it’s me,” James said without hesitation. Alex looked up and he met her gaze without flinching. Alex was suddenly filled with such a surge of emotion that she felt the self-control she had been holding onto crumble. She wasn’t sure if it was James’s determination to protect her or the stress of the last couple days, but Alex started to cry. It was just a few tears at first, traitors that escaped from her eyes without thinking. Then they turned into sobs that made her whole body shake. She knocked her mug over as she put her hand to her mouth to try and stifle the sound. Alex closed her eyes and tried to hold onto her runaway emotions. Arms came around her and she leaned against James’s chest. Alex turned her head and sobbed into his shoulder as he held her close. At one point Alex was crying so hard that she felt as if James’s arms were the only thing that was keeping her in one piece. James put his head against hers as she cried, speaking to her softly, though the words were lost in her sobs. Slowly the sobs subsided and Alex got herself under control. She was still almost hyperventilating and nauseous, but the tears finally stopped. She was drained. The warmth and comfort in James’s arm made it so that she didn’t try to move. She just leaned there until hiccups set in. “Well, that was embarrassing,” Alex said shakily as she leaned back. Another hiccup made her jump as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Do you need anything?” James asked as he continued to rub her arm. “Probably a tissue,” Alex said with a sniff. “And I wouldn’t be against a glass of water.” James got up from his kneeling position on the floor and got her the water and a napkin. Alex blew her nose not caring that it sounded like an elephant trumpeting. “Deep breaths,” James said as he resumed his position kneeling next to her chair. He reached up and pushed damp hair out of her face while she concentrated on slowing down her breathing. She took small sips of the water and finally got the hiccups taken care of. “I’m better now,” Alex said both to herself and James. Her head throbbed from how hard she cried and her throat is raw. She went to reach for her mug and realized what was left of her cider was now all over the table and the floor. “I’ll make you some tea,” James said as he got up. He got out a clean mug and filled it was water. It wasn’t lost on Alex that he grabbed the bag of Chamomile and dropped it into the mug. Alex blew her nose again as he brought the mug over. “Drink it slowly,” James advised as he placed the mug in her hand. He then grabbed some paper towels and cleaned up the remnants of her cider. “You don’t need to do that,” Alex said as she sipped the tea. It felt fantastic on her throat and she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. James didn’t say anything as he finished cleaning up the spilled cider as well as the two dirty mugs. “What time is it?” Alex asked as James finished playing maid. “Just after three,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “Shit, I still have to study.” Alex leaned her head back and sighed at the ceiling. “Chemistry isn’t going to learn itself.” It didn’t matter that it felt as if someone had smacked her in the face with said Chemistry book. She was exhausted and felt as if her body was jelly. “Maybe some rest would be best,” James said as he took the mug from Alex’s hand, worried she was going to drop it. “I have to study,” Alex protested weakly. “The test is tomorrow.” “Are you really going to remember anything that you read in this condition? An hour nap isn’t going to kill you.” James said evenly. The pounding headache was more convincing that James was, but his argument was compelling. “Will you wake me?” She asked. She picked up the mug of tea and took another sip. “I can do that,” James said with a small smile. Alex got to her feet and, while her headache got worse, she could stand. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before trudging to her bedroom. James walked with her and stood in the doorway as she crawled into bed. “One hours,” Alex said around a yawn. “See you in two hours,” James said. “That’s not-” but he closed the door before she could finish. Alex smiled a little and shook her head. It wasn’t long until she fell into dreamless sleep. Something was brushing against Alex’s cheek and forehead. She turned and rubbed her face against the pillow and snuggled deeper under the blankets. However, whatever was rubbing against his forehead didn’t go away. Alex flicked her hand up to flick the annoying piece of hair out of her face. “God damn it,” Alex grumbled as her hand smacked against metal. “It’s your own fault for not waking up when I called you from the door,” James said with a laugh. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like he belonged there. Alex rolled onto her back and rubbed her knuckles. “I didn’t hear you,” Alex groaned as she sat up. She felt as if she had been asleep for years, but also that she just closed her eyes. Either way, she did not feel rested. “You were pretty much dead,” James agreed. He reached out and took her hand. After examining her knuckles in an exaggerated fashion, he brought the hand up to his lips. He kissed each one softly in turn. Alex stopped breathing. He might have scared her earlier, she hadn’t forgotten that, but she also hadn’t forgotten all the times he had protected her either. James stopped, his eyes looking up to stare into hers. That’s when her heart stopped. The slight smirk, the feel of his lips just barely on her skin, it woke her up pretty quickly. “You were brushing the hair out of my face,” Alex said softly as the pieces started to fall into place. “I guess I should have used my soft hand. You really can’t help hurting yourself,” James reached out with his other hand and pushed her hair away again. His fingers lingered against her skin, tucking it behind her ear. He was careful of her piercings. Without realizing it Alex had leaned toward him so they were mere inches apart. James slowly lowered her hand and inched forward a little. His lower lip trembled. “You…you have studying to do,” James said as he got up and cleared his throat. His departure was so abrupt that all Alex could do was blink after him as he left the room. Suddenly the room seemed very cold. “What are you doing to yourself, Alexandra?” She said, flopping back on the bed. Restless energy made it impossible for her to go back to sleep. With a growl, she threw off the covers and prowled around her room. She grabbed a brush and yanked it through her hair in such force that it brought tears to her eyes. The act soothed her though, and helped her compose herself. “So what have you been doing for the past two,” Alex looked at the clock, “and a half hours. What, don’t you know how to tell time, Tin Man?” “Someone didn’t wake up when I first called her,” James said from the kitchen. “And I’ve been reading.” “Anything good,” Alex asked, as she moved into the kitchen. “Anthem,” James waved to the book on the kitchen table. He hadn’t turned to look at her since she came out of the bedroom. “Ayn Rand is pretty heavy stuff. Not exactly light reading. I got it for a class,” Alex went back into the living room and grabbed her Chemistry book. She didn’t know what to do now. The chances of her focusing on Chemistry after what just happened in the bedroom was next to none. “If you’re hungry, I made something,” James called from the kitchen. “Like food?” Alex asked as she brought her book with her back into the other room. “No, a bomb.” James said as he put a bowl of steaming soup on the table. There was also a glass of Coke and crackers at her place. “You made soup,” Alex almost started crying again. “The directions are on the can, wasn’t that hard.” James said with a smile. “Now if you had a whole chicken and vegetables, I would have shown you what soup was.” “You cook?” Alex asked as she folded herself into the chair. “You’re just full of surprises.” “This, this isn’t cooking,” James flung the ladle about as he spoke. “Roasted chicken, fried potatoes, carrots, fresh bread and butter. That is cooking and that’s a meal.” Alex felt her mouth water at him describing it. “You could cook all that?” Alex asked and James gave her a look. “Don’t look at me like that. Not many men can cook all that. Though with your strong mothering instinct I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” “When you grow up in a rough spot in Brooklyn with a best friend that decides that he wants to get into back alley fights you develop some mothering instincts.” James countered as he sat across from Alex with his own bowl of soup. “Not a lot of back alley fights back home. Not a lot of alleys period,” Alex said with a small smile. “Though I did get in my fair share of recess brawls. People stopped bothering me after about fifth grade.” “You got a reputation by then?” James asked with a laugh. “Nope, started developing boobs. Suddenly boys didn’t want to fight me and girls had evolved to talking behind my back.” Alex said as she took a sip of her soup. It wasn’t just canned soup, he had spiced it. “I hit a growth spurt about the same time. Girls started noticing me and guys decided they would find other prey. Unfortunately, it was usually Steve.” “Your best friend?” Alex guessed. James nodded. “Me and Jake were inseparable, even as kids. I hung around with mostly his friends, who were mostly male and mostly older. They kept me safe from everyone else. I had two friends I kept most of the way through school. Haven’t talked to them since I left home, though…” Alex hadn’t thought about Georgia and Diana in months. “I get the feeling that you burned a lot of bridges when you came to the city.” “Not burned…more like put up detour signs. Most of the people in my town never left, they lived there all their life. I didn’t want that to be me and suddenly that made me uppity. My father didn’t think his baby girl could handle herself in the big city and my mom just didn’t want an empty nest. I still talk to my parents, but we aren’t as close as we use to be.” Alex shrugged. She tried to act as if it didn’t bother her, and on most days it didn’t, but with everything that had been happening she was a bit homesick. She wanted to talk to her mom. Grace Harper always knew what to do. Then again, she would probably start crying again. “You shouldn’t stay away from home too long. You never know when you might not be able to go back.” James grabbed a cracker and dunked it into his soup. “I’ll head home over break, but until then I have chemistry to study.” Alex was done with the subject of her family. “I always was interested in science, but didn’t really get a chance to explore it. I was into technology, though. I was always reading about the latest Stark invention as a kid.” James said as Alex flipped open her book. “Which Stark?” Alex asked. Howard Stark had died when she was a toddler and Tony took over the company. She had the feeling that James was a few years older than her, so he might remember Howard. “What?” James looked confused by the question. “Howard or Tony?” James still looked confused so Alex dropped it. “I was never really into explosions or fire that was the staple of Stark Industries for so long. The new Arc Reactor was pretty amazing, but I’m more interested in biology based science.” “Is that why you were so interested in my arm?” James asked. “I was interested in your arm because that is some seriously wicked metal work not to mention the mechanics that went into it. I’m more into what goes on in the brain.” Alex explained. She had decided that she was going to major in Biochemistry in high school, but part of her was starting to wonder if Neurobiology was the way to go. Alex decided to get through the chemistry test first before she rethought her whole life plan. “You can finish your food before hitting the books.” James said as he got up and refilled her soup bowl. “It’s called multitasking,” Alex countered as she bit into a cracker. “Well, then I’ll take a page out of your book,” James said as he grabbed the novel and resumed his seat across from her. They sat there eating and pretending to read, but their eyes would stray to the other when they weren’t looking. Instead of seeing the words on the page or the definitions, she kept thinking about his blue eyes. The feeling of his hands against her skin, both of his hands. There was still the lingering pull to reach across the table and grab him. His brow was furrowed and his lips moved ever so slightly as he read. Lips she wanted to sink her teeth into. “I…I need a change of scenery.” Alex said when she couldn’t take it anymore. “Was I bothering you?” James asked as he pushed a piece of hair out of his face. “I’m just not feeling the vibe in here.” Alex lied as she gathered up her materials. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” After Alex closed the door she leaned against it and sighed. Alex had been in her fair share of relationships and causal hook-ups, but this was the first time she couldn’t control her emotions. It was frightening and exhilarating, but not when you had a test at nine the next morning. Not with a man that might have been part of a terrorist cell or something else equally shady until a few days ago. Alex grabbed her IPod and put in her earbuds. She turned on her study playlist, which consisted of mostly dubstep and house music. As the bass slowly replaced the thoughts of James, Alex started to make notecards to help her study. Four hours and almost a hundred notecards later Alex was feeling a lot more confident about the test. She was also pretty sure her eyes were going to start bleeding. Hitting the pause button on her IPod she got up and stretched. It was definitely time for a snack. “How’s the book coming?” Alex asked as she passed James on the couch. “I’ve read it before, but it is a lot more interesting now.” James said as he marked his placed before closing the cover. Alex pulled a bag of popcorn of the cupboard and stuck it in the microwave. Alex had brought her notecards out with her and flipped through them as she waited for the popcorn to pop. “Not much of a study break if you don’t stop studying,” James said as he padded into the kitchen. He had pulled his hair out of the ponytail it had been in all day, which gave it a slight wave. Alex was pretty sure there were male models that didn’t look as good as he did. Alex jumped when the microwave dinged and dropped the cards that she had in her hands. Swearing under her breath, she turned and popped the microwave door open. She turned to start picking up the cards to see James already kneeling down to collect them. “You don’t need to do that,” Alex said quickly getting down to get the few remaining that James hadn’t picked up. “You need to start letting people do things for you,” James said with a small laugh. Once again the two of them were nose to nose and once again Alex felt a charge between them. Part of her wanted to just reach over and kiss him, the other part knew that he was lost and confused. It wouldn’t be fair for her to complicate things further. If he decided to kiss her, however, all bets were off. “Your popcorn is going to get cold,” James said. It was the same type of dismissal that he had used before, but this time he didn’t move to put distance between them. “I’m not worried,” Alex’s voice was soft. James’s eyes darted to her lips and then back to her eyes. They were questioning, but they were also confused. As much as it killed her, Alex knew that she didn’t want to push him into anything that he would regret. She got to her feet and grabbed the popcorn bag. “Do you want any of this before I go back into my study hole?” She ripped the bag open a bit more furiously than needed. With all this pent up frustration she might need to pull out her little friend with the batteries before she went insane. Then she remembered she hadn’t gotten batteries when they were out. “I’ll take a handful.” James got to his feet and reached into the bag. Alex looked anywhere but him. She didn’t just trust herself not to jump him if they shared another one of those looks. She was only human after all. “You’re good to go,” James said. “Feel free to grab something if you get hungry,” Alex said as she almost ran back to her bedroom. She closed the door and was starting to wonder when she became a hormone monster that in which she had to cage herself. You’d think with her current run in with men she would want nothing to do with them. She put her headphones back in, propped the popcorn against her leg, and turned her thoughts back to studying. It wasn’t that long before she heard a knock on the door. She pulled out her headphones and looked up at James. “I’ve been thinking,” he said from the doorway. “Though I smelled something burning,” Alex said as she flipped over a notecard and looked up. “What’s on your mind?” “I’m going to be leaving tomorrow.” It took a few moments before the words made their way into her brain around all the Chemistry facts. “What, why?’ She asked, putting all her study materials down. “I can’t just stay here until I figure out what to do with myself. That isn’t fair to you,” James explained, but he wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “This isn’t about this afternoon is it?” “No,” James raked his hand through his hair. “Okay, yes it is. But it isn’t just that. It’s not safe for me to be here. I can’t stay any place too long or the people looking for me would find me.” James paced into the room to remove nervous energy. “The people you use to work for?” Alex’s brain was furiously trying to think of a way to make him stay. “Them, and other people…” James continued to pace. “Either way it’s time for me to move on.” “I just don’t understand why now? Did I do something?” Alex was trying to understand. “What? No! That’s not it.” James blew out and stopped moving. “Alexandra…I just…you make me feel things that I haven’t in a while. That scares me because I can’t control it and that makes me unstable. This afternoon was proof of that. I don’t want to do that to you and I can’t do that to myself.” James stopped and looked out her bedroom window. Alex felt as if her heart was about to pound out of her chest, every one of his words both made her happy and terribly scared. “So you are doing this to protect yourself.” Alex couldn’t blame him, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. It almost scared her how comfortable she had become with him around in just a few days. “It isn’t that I don’t want to stay with you. Actually, it is the exact opposite,” James said slowly, “but the people I worked for are going to come for me. When they do, I don’t want you in the crossfire. I am trying to keep you safe, to keep us both safe.” “But I feel safer when you are here,” Alex didn’t want to whine, but that is exactly what she was doing. James’s blue eyes were sad, but he shook his head. “Sometimes, and sometimes you have to wonder if I’m going to turn on you. Alex,” he said when she opened his mouth to protest, “I can see it. I don’t blame you. If anything, you aren’t nearly as scared of me as you should be. This is not how you should live.” “There’s nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?” Alex knew by the tone of his voice that he made up his mind. “The fact that you want to makes me worry about your mental state,” James said, giving her a small smirk. She sat there for a few moments, letting it all sink in. Alex felt panic rising in her, but she squelched it. She had no right to keep him here. “Just…just do me a favor. Wait until I get out of class before you leave?” Alex asked clearing her throat. “I have my exam in the morning and then we can get lunch before you head out.” “I can do that. We’ll have lunch together and then I’ll disappear as easily as I appeared.” James said and his voice held a conviction that Alex knew she couldn’t shake. Alex felt her heart constrict, but nodded her head. He was right, it was better that they parted ways before anyone got hurt or got attached. But Alex knew it was already too late for that.

[starvedofsong]

Mischief and Brawn

Hey everyone! I hope you’re enjoying the warm weather (or cool weather for my New Zealand pals out there), I know that I am. I’ve been to the dog beach twice now, the regular beach three or four times, and I’ve been working my butt off to try and pay rent. But also...

I’ve begun using a prompt generator, which I’m using to write one-shots.

I’ve found a fantastic one on tumblr (that can be found here: generator). I insist that anyone with writer’s block please go and check it out!

Anyway, this one is going to be a Loki and Thor one-shot.

The Prompt: “If I ever gave you the inkling that I was anything other than dead inside, you imagined it”.

The result…

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In all of Asgard everything is beautiful. Golden. Perfect. The sunsets can bring a grown man to weep at the sight of them. Waterfalls cascade down mountains that contain precious jewels and creatures of fantasy. Trees, taller than the tallest building, wrap their ancient roots through the cracks and crevices of the planet, holding everything together like the great World Tree holds together the universe.

In all of Asgard everything is beautiful.

Loki sat alone on a cold, dungeon floor. It was immaculate. Beautiful, as everything else in Asgard was. Stone and tile, grey and shiny. Perfect. No bloodstains, no vomit in the corner. He suspected that he was the only one who’d ever stayed in this cell. Loki rubbed his fingers together and felt a small hush of magic emanate from them, but that was all. His cell was just oppressive enough to allow him to remember he had any magic, but not enough to use it. Probably Frigga’s idea. Probably something she thought was helping her favorite son.

It wasn’t.

He’d been in this dungeon before, he realized. Loki stared up at the tall, stone ceilings and blinked at the sun-like, floating lights that shone down upon him. Against the hard, cold wall he could picture the images buried in his mind.

Thor walked in front of him, always leading the way as though that was the order of things. They were young. Loki’s dark black hair barely fell in front of his eyes. It was shorter than it had ever been, cleaner and shinier. His step still had spring in it, and Odin still had a sparkle in his good eye.

“Where are we going, Father?” Loki asked, tentatively. His hands traced the old stones that lined the shining hallways. Beneath the towers of Asgard, it was hard to imagine just how far down they had already gone, how much weight could come crashing down on them.

“I want you boys to see,” said the Allfather, “where our enemies go.”

Thor slammed his feet down on the rock floors to create an echo. “I thought our enemies preferred to die?”

Odin wasn’t amused at the dark joke. “Most do, my sons, but there are some enemies that deserve to remain down here. Terrible creatures, frightening sorcerers… and traitors.”

Loki looked around them again. He could make out the silhouettes of strong walls that looked like glass. When they’d entered it had been dark, but now small glowing lights like will-o-wisps floated before them. Blue and yellow light permeated the space. Defeated faces suddenly peered out from behind dark shadows, their faces lined with age, their eyes sunken with imprisonment. Loki didn’t let his fear for these lost souls show.

“Forever?” Loki finally asked.

“What?” Odin frowned.

Loki gestured around them. “Do they live down here forever?”

“No,” Odin shook his head gravely. “Only until death.”

As an adult, the halls were less awe-inspiring and more crushing. Bleak.

Traitors...

“Hm,” Loki thought aloud. Then: Will I die here as well?

He mulled over this thought until footsteps echoed down the hall. He knew those footsteps; forceful and purposeful. The kind that always had to lead. He stood smoothly up from where he sat and laid a hand on the instruments his mother had furnished his cell with. Mind games, ornate chairs and golden objects as shining as his castle. Well, the castle of the Allfather.

Thor finally strode into view. He took in the lavish surroundings of his brother’s cell and smiled softly without humor.

“All the comforts I see.”

Loki gazed over Thor’s head as if he were not there, but brought himself up to his full height.

“Mother is too good to you, after all you’ve done…” he checked himself. “But I am not here to be angry with you.”

Again, Loki remained silent.

“You look well, brother...” The word brother was spoken softly, and trailed off at the end as if it were an accidental curse word, spoken by a child. Or perhaps when you accidentally call someone the wrong name and realize it when it is too late.

Thor cleared his throat. “It has been but a few days since you were put here,” he shifted on the stone. Loki finally looked at him then and frowned, as if he didn’t know that already, as if Loki weren’t going to be here for the rest of his very long life.

Thor’s expression was different from all other moments in Loki’s presence. It was easy to tell how much he’d deteriorated in his brother’s eyes since attempting to take over Earth. Now, trapped behind the shining, magical walls of Asgard’s dungeons, Loki couldn’t bear the indignation of it all.

“So, why have you come to see me? Come to see the bildshnipe in his chains?” Loki’s voice almost startled his brother, who had not expected him to speak.

Thor turned from the knife-sharp gaze of Loki and shook his head. “You are no bildshnipe, you are a fool. At least a bildshnipe doesn’t know any better. You were my brother, a prince. An intelligent man, or at least that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, I’m a fool now, am I? Does that finally make you feel clever?” Loki laughed.

Thor bristled. “You’ve fallen so far, brother. You have disgraced your title, your namesake-”

“My namesake? Do not speak to me, Odinson.”

“Laufeyson, then!” Thor roared. Loki did not flinch, but inside he knew that this surname was just as repulsive, if not more, than the last.

“Do not,” Loki hissed. “come to this cell and berate me like a child, brave Avenger. If you’d had the strength to speak to me like this when I were free-”

“You will never be free! Don’t you understand Loki, this isn’t some temporary arrangement. You have betrayed me, betrayed Asgard! Betrayed father…” Thor bit on the inside of his cheek and then said, “Betrayed mother.”

Loki frowned, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t attempt to find sentiment in me, brother. That woman is just as much a liar as the man who played ‘father’ to me my whole life.”

Thor was shocked at his words. Their mother had always been Loki’s favorite, not that there was much competition between the two parents.

“You would speak of her this way, after all she’s done-”

“If I ever gave you the inkling that I was anything other than dead inside, you imagined it. I no more care for Frigga or Odin than I do for you, brother.”

As he said it, Loki became enraged at the doubtful look on his brother’s face. Even now, at his lowest point, Thor couldn’t prevent himself from seeing through Loki. It was hard, he admitted to himself, to speak badly of Frigga, the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had. But it would have been worth it if Thor had become so affronted that he left. Instead, Thor looked pityingly through the magical barrier at Loki, and Loki burned with an impassable shame.

“I see,” Thor finally said. Tension in the Avenger’s shoulders finally gave out, and he slumped as if he’d lived more than ten thousand years. “Yes, I see fully now.”

“Do you?” Loki’s question was barely more than a whisper.

The distance between them, only a few feet, felt like miles apart. A distance that has been growing since adolescence. Only one of them, Thor, attempting to bridge that gap for so long. Now, Loki could tell, that bridge had finally burned.

Maybe it wasn’t the attack on New York that severed their thin bond.

No, Loki thought. He’d been in this cell for a very long time now, pondering that first week. He waited for Thor to return, like he always did. He didn't.

Loki waited for Odin to carry out a heavier sentence, to be brought again before the council and sentenced to die alone on a dark star somewhere. He didn't.

No, Loki thought once more. I severed this bridge, this link between us. One that may have been one-sided, but… he sighed. His small breath echoed around the destroyed cell. He felt the weight of Asgard now, coming down upon him. No books nor sets of strategic games could save him from the misery of eternity down here, alone. No one to bother, no quips to make at others’ expense.

He missed Frigga’s name day.

Loki cleared his throat, rubbed his face and told himself he wasn’t sad for his loss. That he wasn’t pained to be down here, missing name days and his mother’s smiling face. He thought maybe a book could tempt him when footsteps echoed down the hall.

He quickly put up a facade of the room and himself, but did not move.

His brother came into view, cloaked and burning with purpose.

“Thor. After all this time, you come to visit me…”

[thechocobros]

“SEE LUNA SAFE TO ALTISSIA” - part 17

Pair: Nyx Ulric / Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Previously: message me so I’ll give you the links ;)

Words: 9344

Plot: Luna and Nyx didn’t fell in the Empire’s trap, Nyx didn’t had to use the ring and he survived. What would have happened if Nyx really had the chance to ‘see Luna safe to Altissia’, like he promised to Regis? Part 17: The final battle has begun. Thinking that Nyx is dead, Luna tries to focus only on her mission to guide Noctis. She is determineted to tell him the truth about the prophecy and to dispose of the malicious Astrals, but this will come with a price ...  

Personal Comment: LAST CHAPTER BEFORE THE EPILOGUE! (an epilogue i accidentally deleted from my drafts but ok -.- ) I’m sorry for the horrible delay, I know I didn’t update in an eternity. I hope this big finale will repay your patience somehow. It was an extremely complicate chapter for me to write, more than the other ones probably, due to the action sequences. But here we are, my fix-it fic is over. It was an amazing journey, I loved it. It was long, difficult, but both Nyx and Luna deserved it. I hope you all think the same.

Let me know what you think, guys :))  I just want to thank @loveiscosmicsin for the costant help she gave me and YOU ALL READERS, because I wouldn’t have finished this novel fic if it wasn’t for your amazing support. I love you all. 

Stay tuned for the epilogue ;)

Luna stood paralyzed before Ardyn Izunia, mouth agape in sheer terror. She was fully aware that the man was the most inconvenient of obstacles at that point of the fight. Leviathan’s power raging in the background she had no energy to face the Usurper at the same time too.

But for some kind of destiny’s joke, the man didn’t seem to have come to fight for now. He bowed deeply instead, taking his hat off in sign of respect.

“My fair princess! How long I have waited to meet you! The pious Oracle - the Personification of Purity - who rebelled to the prophecy that decided your destiny. A model for the future generations, to never accept a fate written by someone’s else hand. I barely was able to contained my joy when you slew the Glacian.”

Lunafreya frowned and pressed her fingers around the indented grooves of the trident, seeking support in its comfortable power. She knew that if things would have turned out badly, she could count on her white magic, but at the same time gears whirred in her brain, seeking for other possibilities. Wit had always been her best weapon since she was nothing but a scared little girl, powerless in front of the cruel Empire.  

“You seem very well informed for a mere chancellor, Ardyn Izunia. So am I.”

“Then permit us to be honest to each other,” Ardyn sang with his mischievous voice, mellifluous enough to impress her, but not enough to mesmerize her.

“I didn’t expect you would response with a smile to the death of one of the Astrals, the very ones who wish to give the true king their blessing.”

“In a matter of speaking, the prince receiving those blessings was originally part of my plan,” he was attentive to not using the word ‘king’. “But perhaps I can handle it better without that condition. I’m a flexible man, after all. Anyway, let’s not speak of myself. I came here bearing gifts! This is an altar where sacrifices are offered afterall” he continued, indicating Leviathan destroying the city just a mile away. The goddess’s tail swept away an entire building in one swift motion.  

Despair filled the atmosphere and soon the bleakness of the situation will embrace the Oracle as well. Luna’s focus on Ardyn was frustratingly deviated by her worry for Noctis who she couldn’t see anymore. Her first instinct was to run straight to him as soon as possible but then Ardyn gestured to the airship that brought him here. The hatch of the ship automatically unveiled an unbelievable sight in the cargo hold. Luna gasped and widened her eyes in disbelief.

The Crystal.

The ancient artifact bestowed upon the Caelum dynasty of yore and the object of desire that Niflheim made off with in the confusion of Insomnia’s mayhem. It retained a calm glow as it was simply anticipating for one to exploit its magic.

“What is the meaning of this?” Luna asked, trying to divert attention away from her confusion.

“Oh, don’t recognize the Crystal when it’s right before your eyes? The Empire, obsessed by their greed and whatever shiny bauble that caught their attention at the moment, hasn’t quite tapped into it.”

“The Draconian and the Infernian are sealed within it,” Luna said, trying to connect the puzzle pieces.

“You’re right. And you should give them a good wake-up call.”

Leviathan moved and another earthquake summoned a sort of small tsunami which almost reached the altar and swept Luna away. When she was able to stand on her feet again, her knees had bled through her dress and Ardyn Izunia was staring at her with the most malicious of the smirks.

“What game are you imposing?” she challenged, raising her voice over the storm, simply not in the mood to entertain him.

Ardyn extended his arms, feigning concord in a circumstance that hardly was.

“Why does everyone jump to that conclusion? Do you think that I’m not capable of charity? Why, I came all this way to bring the Crystal to you.”

No, of course Luna didn’t believe in the gesture or his words for a second. In fact, she immediately considered the option of fleeing while there was still a considerable distance between them, a distance that the Chancellor was aware of.

To awaken two more deities into the chaotic fray would only wrought more destruction upon them all, she knew it too well. But at the same time, she contemplated that an opportunity would be wasted if she didn’t. At any rate, chances of survival after calling upon them were slim, and if she perished, who would have rouse Bahamut and Ifrit in her stead? She had to give Noctis the opportunity to fight the Gods and reclaim the power of the ring at all costs.

Perfectly aware of following Izunia’s twisted games, she decided to do as he asked for now. She aimed her trident toward the Crystal and let the white magic flow from her. She began to sing and pray, perpetuating the ritual, a performance done way too well by now. As the white lights around them flurried, the Crystal started to tremble so much it almost disintegrated, and everything else in the area subjected to silence. Enclosed in the proximity of her calling, there was the reason why both Ifrit and Bahamut shouldn’t have been driven from the Lucian Crystal in such a violent fashion. Once freed, nothing in the universe could encompass the awesome power of their combined antithetic might. But it was now or never and Luna didn’t really have other choice.

In a instant, the Crystal’s energy exploded.

A burst of an raw, unimaginable force.

The incredible effort sapped Luna every ounce of her strength, never had she been close to death’s gate. The blood from her face dissapated, along with breath bated and heart had skipped a beat. The feeling of losing control on her own body overwhelmed her more than the fatigue ever did and more than the illness looming over her. It was unusual and somehow… unclear.

In the depth of the silent absurdity, Luna reached for her stomach, where she felt something indistinguishably protruding from her side.

She blinked, seeing a dark substance coat her fingers. It couldn’t be blood. It was not the right color.

With Luna’s bearings regained, her eyes adjusted to the Chancellor who had enclosed the distance at last, offering a malevolent smile to the Oracle’s confusion. The blade that met the mark of its incision couldn’t be confused with an hazy dream. It was real. 

She had been stabbed.

There was no reason to look for a particular motivation beyond the unexpected act. Retrieving the weapon from Luna’s reach, Ardyn casually wiped the dagger with a handkerchief. Her role fulfilled, she was expendable in his eyes.

As she gasped and instinctively applied pressure to the wound, Luna had a delayed reaction to the pain. She was occupied with the regret of not surviving long enough to speak to Noctis one last time. What would have given to have the chance to make amends, to finally tell him about the prophecy, and giving him the chance to choose to save himself. She would have sold her soul in exchange of the opportunity to apologize, the thought had been on the back burner of her mind, in their correspondance, but it was too late. How selfish she had been before Nyx opened her eyes? All her life, she deluded herself into protecting Noctis by withholding the truth of his destiny? She never told her childhood friend that bearing the Ring would cost him his life and now, it was too late. She didn’t deserve forgiveness, nor mercy. She earned this death sentence.

She lifted her chin, noticing over Ardyn’s shoulders the colossal visages of Bahamut and Ifrit raised from the nothing after their prison was no more.

She also noticed Noctis, standing on the top of a building, looking at the chaos raging against him. He was ready to face Leviathan and probably also the other Astrals, but he was alone and still not at the peak of his power. It turned out clearly he didn’t use the Ring yet. It was just a matter of time before he realized that his only chance of survival was to doing it.

A tear streaked Lunafreya’s cheek. Ardyn best not misunderstood it as a sign of weakness, but desperation filled her veins like never before. She would have told Noctis the truth about the Ring, and permit him to choose his destiny even if it was the last thing she did in this life. 

But it would mean that she would be reunited with her husband in the Beyond.

—————-

Luna didn’t know that Nyx was not dead. He was alive, refusing to stand ground at a crucial moment.

As soon as he understood that the airship was not leading him in the right direction, he warped from one rooftop to the next, never stopping. Things started to be even more complicated after just a couple of minutes when Leviathan was repelled by the Oracle’s magic. Nyx understood that his wife’s negotiations didn’t succeed and chaos erupted. Debris, crashing walls of water, and explosions hailing around him made evading almost impossible. He had to summon all the tricks in the books to reach an intact building where he took cover for a minute to catch his breath. He felt exhausted already and he got nowhere. On the contrary, he lost track of the altar... or what was left of it. In spite of this, he was totally able to see the fight was growing exceedingly violent.

Soon enough he felt ready to warp again, but a different kind of explosion prevent him from doing it. He froze, looking to the sea, outraged by the scene before him. Two huge and threatening entities appeared not very far from Leviathan, raising from the darkness with cries of hysteria and writhing manically as if they were wild beasts released from restraints. Maybe that it was, especially considering the circumstances.

Nyx couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Bahamut and Ifrit?” he murmured, stupefied. Aside from fairy tales, he did not know anything about the Astrals before meeting Lunafreya, but she recently educated him about mythology, even at cost of sacrificing the safe and intimate moments they shared in bed. Not like Nyx could fault his wife’s bad timing of a time and place, it was a terrible habit, but at least the private lessons turned out to be useful. He was now able to recognize the Astrals.

The Glaive was aware that Lunafreya would attempt summoning Bahamut and Ifrit later on, but he was also aware that the Crystal was under the Empire’s control, possibly very far from here. So how come Lunafreya summoned them already? Something he couldn’t known must have happened.

“How is it possible? Where did you find the Crystal?” And then realization hit him like he was struck by lightning. “Izunia!”

The mere pronunciation of that name send a chill up to his spine. If the Chancellor found a way to Lunafreya, it meant that she was in mortal danger. And Nyx couldn’t believe she accepted to envoke two more enraged gods into the fray. It could only mean the situation was desperate.

“Damn, pulling the brave princess act again,” he cursed beneath his breath. He would tell Luna in person soon though. If he got to her in time.

“Nyx!” The unexpected voice which called up for him sounded like the frenzied mix between surprise and relief.

Nyx turned around to meet eyes with the Crown Prince of Lucis, covered in grime and soaked with sea water, a very far image from the one of royal blood would be presented. Now that Nyx knew the prophecy that Noctis should have fulfilled, the one of him becoming the True King of Light, he wondered if the Astrals have been not only malicious but also befuddled all along because there was nothing majestic in that skinny and clumsy young man. The universe dictated that he was the Chosen One? With a small smile, Nyx thought that maybe it was because Astrals thought he would have been the perfect lamb to lead slaughter – silent, pliable and compliant. Like in Lunafreya’s case, bad news were in store for them.

“Your Highness.”

“What are you doing here?”

In that moment Leviathan’s move threw a debris in Noctis’ direction and if Nyx didn’t warp in time, the impact would made its mark.

“About to go save Lunafreya’s ass, but I guess I can make time to save yours.” Nyx yelled in the attempt to be heard in all the confusion. “What’s up with you royal types and attracting the worst of every situation possible?”

Noctis lifted his chin and shoved the Glaive off him.

“It’s not like I asked for this and yet, here I am.”

Nyx sighed dramatically. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss this, so he didn’t comment any further and just helped the boy up.

“We gotta go. Did you use the Ring already?”

“They wouldn’t be alive if I did,” Noctis grunted, staring at the Astrals raging in the distance. “I … still don’t feel ready.”

When he caught the apprehension in those words, Nyx felt hesitation knot inside his stomach. If carrying the ring on a chain on his neck made the Glaive feel like he had a leash, wearing it on the finger must have felt like succumbing to the death. And the prince was nothing but a boy, brave but naive. Strong but inexperienced. Did he sense where putting the ring would have lead him? Did he guessed the required blood prince beyond it? If he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Should I wear it now, Nyx?” Noctis asked instead, looking at the Astrals in the distance. There was so much distress brimmed in his eyes and an hollowed echo in his voice that Nyx almost wished to shield Noctis away from every possible harm. Sadly, fleeing was not an option.

A pointless response was on the tip of Nyx’s tongue and remained unsaid, leaving him insecure of how to answer the prince. He had to have faith in his wife, trusting she would have guided Noctis until the very end, doing the right thing, and revealing him the truth, all with a smile on her lips. His main goal now was to protect them both.

So Nyx took Noctis’ shoulder and pulled him close, to encourage and to assure him he would have stand by his side, no matter what. Noctis seemed grateful for that hasty but heartfelt gesture and exchanging an understatement nod, they warped ahead at the unison.

The prince and the Glaive, off to save their princess.

———

If those were her last breaths, Luna would have used them to blow things in a way that Ardyn couldn’t ever predict.

Watching with distraught eyes of her own blood dripping on slippery stone, she retrieved her trident again, imparting all her power to it. A thick ring of light encircled her, vibrating and taking everything down like a tsunami. Her white magic yearned to reach the target, searching every perimeter of the atmosphere with spasmodic accuracy until it finally found the prince and another very dear person that Luna didn’t expect to sense.

———

Warping closer to the Astrals felt like shooting against the world’s end. It was fire and water, wind and earth, the elements shaken, the certainties lost in a vortex of unknowns. It hurt. It really did. 

If Nyx and Noctis didn’t have each other to rely on, there was no way that they could safely navigate through the vortex of destruction on their own. There was only forward, but obstacles before them forced them to embark detour after detour and time wasn’t on their side.

But then, they sensed Lunafreya. Like a sudden slap on the face, they suddenly knew she was there. They did not see her face, nor her figure. But it was her and she was everywhere.

“Your Highness, it’s time!” Nyx screamed, seizing the prince’s arm as he pointed at Leviathan, the closest divinity. “Take her out, I’ll cover you!”

Noctis nodded to the Glaive and focused, absorbing Luna’s magic from the chaotic atmosphere with deep breaths and closed his eyes. He secured himself to the wall of a building but he was rewarded for his concentration when he begun to levitate, the ancestral Armiger appearing from the nothing and circumnavigated about him.

Nyx looked at him in awe, holding the kukris in his hands, feeling that his own weapons couldn’t compare, much less leave a dent. For a moment he was certain that Noctis would have been fine against Leviathan without his help and such an intuition found confirmation when Noctis projected the first attack.

It was a blast. 

Fueled by the Oracle’s white magic, Noctis warped and slit, weapons serving him like a dozen of new arms. Nothing dared to move again after his lethal and unstoppable contact. Nyx had troubles in following his lead in the chaos but whenever he caught him, he saw him hitting the target with great precision and he felt so proud of him and even more so of Lunafreya, who lent such an outstanding strength to him.

It was then his mind caressed the memory of Luna that he felt his heart ache in the desire of being reunited with her as soon as possible. He quickly gazed the altar and the gods in the distance with renewed resolve and his feet started to move by themselves. First, they trotted, then they ran, and in the end, he warped. Without taking his eyes off Noctis, he got closer to his wife and finally reached for her.

———————

But what he expected to be the fulfillment of his promise and an happy reunion, quickly turned into the worst nightmare when he faced the truth of what happened during his absence. An absence that almost swept away the light from Luna’s eyes.

“Nyx…” she whispered, letting the trident fall and trying to lift herself up from her forearms.

Luna would have thought she was dreaming if the pain she felt reminded her that the time on this world was to a close. 

“Lunafreya!”

Luna lifted her chin enough to see the Glaive warping next to her, panic spreading all over his face. She found again all the details she thought she lost forever: the small tattoos, the braids, the shape of his jaw, the perfect lips now split and covered with blood. His strong arms picked her up, touching her with desperation and at the same time, delicately.

“I thought you were d–” Luna started, but her breath halted abruptly, stealing away her words.

Nyx adjusted her in his embrace and checked her out from the point of her head to the tip of her heels. His heart fell in a black abyss as soon as he noticed the wound on her abdomen and the urge of doing something almost brought him to the edge of the sanity.

“I’m fine!” When he screamed, he was angry. Damn, he was so angry. This was not supposed to be happening. “What happened to you? What–?” A grimace of pain moved on Luna’s beautiful forehead and she felt the urge to hide her face in his neck to alleviate her suffering. She wanted to cry because he was real, he was alive, and she was dying instead. Where she was headed was somewhere her Nyx would not be.

“Nyx. Nyx…” Her voice was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry. I did all that I could, I–”

“Hey, the prince got the Ring, okay? He’s gonna fix this mess. You did it. Now look at me. Stay with me. You’re not dying on my watch, Lunafreya.”

Luna smiled and looked at him expectedly.

“You did your job. You delivered the Ring to Noctis… and you came back as promised.” Nyx got drawn by the sweetness in her tone and in that moment everything around them disappeared, the raging Astrals, the decadent city, the chaos, the wounds. It was just the two of them, looking at each other in the eyes, trying to stop the time and capture eternity in the middle.

“Told you I would,” Nyx whispered, caressing her cheek with the thumb, wiping away the water of the ocean. Or maybe, it was her tears.

“Thank you… My dearest Nyx. Help Noctis now, I beg this of you. I beg you.”

“You still have to tell him about the Ring,” Nyx said, frantically, hoping to offer her more reasons to stay, like his wish to remain forever together wasn’t enough.

Luna surprised him by answering, “I will.”

Her promise left Nyx speechless. Then her lips moved, but no sound that he could make out until he leaned in. She gained all her remaining strength to whisper, “I love you” and closed her eyes, looking so tired and pale.

Nyx’s eyebrows furrowed, panic stirring in his chest as soon as he understood what was happening. The acutest pain hit him and paralyzed him. He wanted to say something but couldn’t. His lips were trembling badly. Tears pushed and asked to be released, but he couldn’t do that either. So he just stared at his wife, numb.

“Nyx!” Nyx recognized the voice. It was Noctis, calling for him from a close distance, like an echo, it barely reached him. Another voice joined, a different one, with an aristocratic accent.

“Noct!” This was Ignis. He arrived there, too.

But the Glaive ignored them both. He kept staring at Luna. He got closer to her lips and pressed his forehead to hers, trying to gift her his warmth, praying in vain to save her. 

When he failed, he felt the world stop moving.

—————–

When he almost finished Leviathan off, Noctis had ran toward the altar, sensing Luna’s magic abandoning him. The attempt had caused him pain not only because Leviathan’s hysteria: Bahamut had joined the battle, taking the Goddess of the Sea’s side and throwing the young Prince in the ocean like he was a mere puppet. Noctis couldn’t explain how he survived that.

He felt the Ring calling for him, asking to be used but he did his best to ignore it, certain he had to wait a bit longer. Just a bit longer.

So Noctis swam to the river, Luna’s white magic sneaking away from his veins. As soon as he reached the altar he understood why. She was dying. So pale, so beautiful, curled in Nyx’s arms.

“Nyx!” he called, but then Noctis fell to his knees, a sudden tiredness embraced him. Something else was happening, something inside him. He didn’t even had the time to panic because energies were quickly abandoning him. He had the time to look for the Ring in his pocket, pressing it against the palm of his hand.

“Noct!”

The prince turned aside and noticed Ignis alongside with Ravus. He smiled to his loyal advisor then his sight got blurry. The ring toppled to the pavement and he fainted.

————-

Ravus was still paired up with Ignis when they headed for the altar. But as the High Commander’s breath hitched in seeing his sister’s corpse, Ignis ran to Noctis’ side instead and quickly checked his pulse. Sensing it was still there, he sighed in relief but at the same time searched for the cause of his fainting and founded nothing but the ring beside him. He took it with justified fear and then swallowed, turning around to look at Nyx and Ravus.

The Glaive was huddled there, staring at the woman in his arms. His eyes were empty, haunted by the final words bestowed to him. Not even Ravus, destroyed by seeing his sister lifeless, could equal his level of numbness.

Ignis understood. He understood far better than Noctis or Ravus ever could. He knew what meant dedicating your life to someone and not being able to protect that person in spite of every effort. If Noctis wouldn’t been revived, he would have felt dejected from existence in the same way. So he stood up, thinking of getting closer to Nyx and Ravus to offer them comfort, but there was not time for mourning because the Astrals were still raging in the distance and because someone appeared not very far from them.

“Ardyn!” Ravus seethed, recognizing him.

“Hello there. What a happy reunion in such a distressful time.” 

Ignis quickly assumed a defensive position, certain that he wouldn’t have let him closer to Noct or Luna. “Nyx Ulric! On your feet!” he called, praying that the Glaive would abandon his comatose status and react because they needed him now more than ever. “Nyx!”

When Nyx lifted his eyes, there was death inside. "Give me the Ring,” he said.

Ignis gasped. Nyx knew what using the ring would mean. When Insomnia was under attack he saw Ravus using it and suffered the consequences. Lunafreya had told him that Noctis himself - the Chosen one - would have consumed his life for using it. So when he asked to Ignis to hand him the Ring, he knew that what would have been the consequences, but he just didn’t care. Lunafreya, his princess, his wife, his reason to live, had died in his arms and this made him reckless. His life meant nothing now she was gone. He failed his mission. He didn’t protect her. To atone for such a sin, he would have sacrificed his life to kill the murderous Astrals and maybe also the Usurper, so Noctis didn’t have to.

“No, Nyx. Using the Ring is a right reserved to the True King and only Noct –” Ignis started, but got interrupted by the Glaive’s prompt response.

“You wouldn’t use it if it was Noctis in Lunafreya’s place?”

Ignis didn’t reply, averting his gaze with a grimace. So when Nyx reached for the Ring, Ignis hesitated just for a second before handing it over to him. Damn the consequences.

It was fast. Nyx wore it before Ignis’, Ravus’, and Ardyn’s shocked eyes. And the darkness fell on that dimension, bringing Nyx face to face with the powerful kings of the past.

—————————-

Blades of grass caressed Noctis’ cheek and he woke up. At the beginning he couldn’t recognize the perfume of the sylleblossoms, too much time was passed since he last smelled it. Twelve years, probably.

As he stood up and the blue color of the flowers filled his eyes, he understood he was inside a dream, there was no other explanation to such a contrasting scenery. Trapped inside the body of when he was just a eight years old boy, he looked around, searching for Luna, the only one he shared the memory of the sylleblossom field with.

“Noctis?”

There she was, the younger version of her. Blond hair on her tiny shoulders, the cute little dress, she was exactly like he remembered in her fondest memories.

Noctis felt his heart warming up, childhood dreams filling with bittersweet tenderness his mind repressed from the associated pain of her visage.

“Luna?”

“So you found your way here.”

Noctis stood up and looked at her. Once again, they were two children in a flower field, talking surrounded by peace.

“And you found me” Noctis whispered then, comforted by that thought.

“A chance to see you once more. Who would have thought?”

“Luna. Where are we? What’s happening?”

“I needed to have a moment to speak with you, Noctis. Before I go.”

“Go where?”

In that moment, the wind swished graciously and Luna’s beautiful white dress follow the breeze, getting longer in the air. When Noctis lifted his chin to look at her again, the child was gone and an adult woman, mature and emotionally drained, replaced her instead. Still, she was beautiful.

“Where you can’t follow, Noctis. I’m dying. I enjoyed my moments of happiness. Since I left my goodbyes with Tenebrae months ago, I knew this day would have come,” she whispered, but her echo could be heard from the distance in the irisdescent atmosphere. “The Astrals ordained my death and rebelling against them came with a price. I’m ready to the fare as long as you, Nyx, and the all of Eos are preserved.”

The mention of that name in the conversation woke doubts in Noct’s mind. Even if he was trapped inside the body of a child, his memory of an adult was able to reach for the image of Luna dying with Nyx’s lips on hers. That caused him pain but also a dazzling feeling of emptiness.

“You love the Glaive, don’t you?”

Luna let a second pass and then nodded.

“I was happy, Noctis. He made me happy, even for just a little while. So don’t think you couldn’t save me because in a way... He did already when nobody else could.”

Noctis forgot how to use the tongue to speak for at least one minute straight. The feeling inside his heart was confused and uncertain, very similar to the frustration of not being able to do what he always wished to: helping Luna.  

“What… What should I do then? What do you want me to do?”

“Your burden is heavy enough. You still must banish the Darkness from our Star, Noctis. Ardyn Izunia is the Usurper and even if we’d succeed in killing the malicious Astrals, he still would try to have his revenge on your lineage. The only power able to destroy him is the one restrained in the Ring, but about that you must be warned of something your father and I never had the courage to share with you.”  Luna could barely conceal her sadness looking at the child she shared so many fond memories with. He really cared for her, as much she cared for him. It was about time to speak him the truth and guide him one last time before parting ways. They were like parallel lines, after all, always so close, never destined to entwine.

“What is it about?”

“The Kings ask for a blood price. The Old Wall can be summoned from drawing the essence of your life.”

“Does it mean I’m gonna die…?”

Luna’s heart ached.

“So speaks the prophecy, Noctis.” The spark died in the boy’s eyes and Luna had only a faint hope to offer him. If she would have suggested him a corect line of action which implied saving his life, she would have considered her calling of Oracle really fulfilled. Guiding him was her mission, after all. Making him happy was her wish. “But you can defeat it, together with your best friends and with the loyalty of the Glaives like Nyx. So many people are ready to stand by you all along, Noctis. So many people are ready to challenge fate to see you safe. Not a single life will be taken if you will share your burden with all of them.” 

“Share my burden…? How?”

“Inside the Crystal, you’ll find an answer. The Kings of Yore will show mercy to their descendants. Once you’re inside there, your trials will start and you’ll enter into reflection. Remember you’re not alone. If you’ll keep in mind that you don’t have to carry your burden alone, you’ll manage to survive the cruel fate the gods chose for you.” 

A sudden and far noise broke the peace of the meadow. The sylleblossoms delicately waved, the earth underneath their feet did, too.

Noctis panicked a bit like the kid he seemed, while Luna looked upon the sky with sad eyes. Understanding what was happening, she got so close to tears and had to battle a lot to be strong.

“What’s going on up there?” Noctis screamed. The dream they were trapped in started to collapse. 

“You belong to the realm of the living, Noctis” said Luna then, aware of running out of time, “Godspeed. Reclaim your throne. Nyx has certainly used the Ring already like the stubborn fool he is. Don’t let the Kings burn him alive for his recklessness, I beg of you. Join forces with him.” 

The sylleblossoms around them started to melt and moved like waves of water. Still, Noctis had questions.

“What about you?” Luna shook her head in response. “No! Luna!” The mysterious flow pulled Noctis away from his friend and no matter how much the boy streched out to reach for her, he just couldn’t touch her.

Luna didn’t ask to be saved though. She was smiling, because she told Noctis the truth in the end because Noctis would have saved Nyx and together they would have saved the world.

Her duty was done.

Her calling finally fulfilled.

———————

Nyx found himself floating in an indefinite blue space, surrounded by darkness and clueless of what expecting next. He figured that such a place was an alternate dimension used by the Kings to get in touch  with the mortals but he couldn’t be sure. Yet, all that space, with no appropriation of space or size, made him even more anxious than he already was. He was sure that the Kings of Lucis wouldn’t have welcomed his impudent initiative, so he stood there alone for a long minute, in silence and uncertainty, contemplating the possibility of his imminent death.

“Show yourselves, Kings of Lucis!” he called out in the end, tired of waiting.

Like they were sparks of blue fire bursting out of a volcano, the spirits of the kings appeared all around him, minacious and powerful. They didn’t make a sound nor move a breeze. What did he expect from ghosts? And Nyx hoped that ghosts may go gentle on him.

“You call upon the wards of this world’s future, mortal. And if you come lusting for our power, you must first stand in our judgment,” one of them started. Nyx thought it was the most important among them so he turned around until he faced him.

“You did nothing as Insomnia burned and now, you did nothing as the woman who did so much to preserve the light in the world - the woman who dared to challenge the gods when nobody of you did – suffered and died. She is the blood of the Oracle, but you let her alone in this fight!”

Nyx’s voice trembled as he spoke so, but didn’t end it there. On the contrary it screamed out loud. He was angry, he was in agony, he was ready to fight not only the Gods but also the ghosts of the Kings of Lucis in order to receive even the slightest hope of bringing Lunafreya back. The pain of having lost her had hurt him so badly that he was ready to try and risk everything. He would have gladly got down in hell, sunk his feet in the river Styx and fought the devil himself if it was necessary. Everything. Everything to keep her safe - or in this case, to bring her back.

He didn’t want to think it was over and that she was lost forever, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that the situation was kinda desperate.

“Man is a fool creature, clinging to his past and cowering from his future” answered the Kings in fact. “Wasting his strength on bygone days. And what future are you wards of? So shortsighted. And cursed never to rise above it. It does not fall to us to guard your city or your woman.”

“But it falls to you to guard the future!” Nyx screamed back.

“Guarding the future is something we do of our own accord. At a time we so choose.”

“The longer you wait, the more the world burns! Old or new, or whatever it is, give me your power. Now! Destroy the gods. Banish the darkness. If you can’t save her, don’t let Lunafreya’s death be in vain!” Nyx’s voice was starting to get not only reckless, but also really desperate. With Lunafreya gone and the prince unconscious, if the Kings of Lucis would have refused to help him too, there would be no hope.

He wanted to save everything and everyone, it was something written in his blood and he couldn’t help with it.

“You do not command us. Yours is not even royal blood.”

That statement hit Nyx’s nerves. He couldn’t believe that the Kings would have been so irrational and stubborn to refuse his request just because he wasn’t a member of the royal family. Truth to be told, he could have asked nicely, but there was no time for it. They had to listen to him, and quickly. So he opened his mouth to try to work out a response and give them a piece of his mind when another voice joined the conversation, interrupting him.

“His may be not. But mine is.” 

Nyx boggled and turned around in shock.

He may have not spoken with that voice so often, but he would have recognize it between a milion similar ones.

Noctis was standing there, some steps away from him, lifting his chin to face the Kings, an unspoken courage on the face. He was raising his right hand in the air and it was then when Nyx noticed the ring on his finger. Puzzled and confused, the Glaive checked his own hand, seeing that the ring had dissapeared from there to materialize on the prince’s. This caused an hesitant smile dawning on his face.

“The Ring. How…?” Nyx whispered, adressing to Noctis. “How come you’re here?”

Noctis glanced at him briefly and smiled wryly. “Luna.”

That name made Nyx’s heart lighten and enlarge. “You spoke with her…?” he asked increduolously. 

Despite his question, Noctis walked ahead, ignoring him to address the Kings instead.

“Father.” One of the shadows twirled gently and bent down, getting closer to Noctis with obvious familiarity. He didn’t say anything, so Noctis did first, “Grant to Nyx Ulric to go on living. I’m gonna need him as much as I’m gonna need the support of my friends. That’s how I can defeat the prophecy, isn’t it?”

“The prophecy is matter of the gods and the Kings put it into action. You must know by now that the power of the Ring costs a life because it’s fed with vital energy. No one can change this” the mechanical voice of the ghost king replied. 

“What if each one of us sacrifice a piece of their own life instead?” Noctis asked it as a question, but he looked pretty confident about his suggestion. “In that case, you’d have your blood debt and we all would survive long enough to enjoy the light of the dawn for years.”

A deep silence fell among the ghosts of the kings.

“Who plotted this scheme?” Someone asked. Surprisingly enough, there was stupor in the question like they were outraged that someone actually dared to elaborate such a proposal.

Noctis didn’t answer but his grin milded with a tender expression, revealing the truth without speaking a word.

Luna.

It was certainly her the one behind the suggestion.

King Regis - it was clear it was him under the solid armor which made him hard to recognize - stepped ahead, slowly. “For years I mourned your fate, Noctis. I would have done anything to save you and I still would. But your life is very high valued, your request cannot be granted so easily. If we accept, how many people would have to share your burden when it was meant to be only yours to bear?”

“I don’t know. How many people died for me until now? Without my knowledge?”

Regis boggled at the veiled accusation, hit right in the feelings. In his mind shocking images of Insomnia’s destruction probably appeared, because he immediately seemed to submit.

“I’m sorry, Noctis. I was only trying to spare you the pain... I thought your destiny couldn’t be changed.”

Noctis’ face frowned in suffurance. “I wish I knew about what gods had in store for me, Dad. We would have find a solution together. And maybe … you’d still be here, too.” The boy almost started to cry but he quickly hid the feelings behind a mask of resolution, determined to settle down the right priorities. He looked at his finger, were the ring was positioned. Glowing with a menacious shade of red, it looked like an horrible instrument of death.

“But we can still change destiny, Dad. I’m going to get home back. Trust me. Believe in me.

King Regis took a long minute before nodding. For some reason, Nyx imagined he was smiling under the helm.

“My wayward son is ready to be a king, then” he said then, a voice so human in spite of the eerie reverberations. And he stepped back, to rejoin the rest of the Kings. “He’s right. A lot of people will be ready to lend him their strength. We must prepare to pay our blood debt and Noctis will do what he must. Let’s grant him our power and send the Glaive back with him.”

There was a long silence, but for some reason, the King who spoke first - the most hostile one - didn’t bother to object. It was like he trusted King Regis completely even if he was technically the latest addition to the club.

“Very well, Chosen. You and the impudent Glaive return to the realm of the living. We’ll grant you our powers. And then you’ll enter into Reflection, for you, the journey has just begun.” 

But Noctis didn’t seem to be satisfied yet.

“The world is going to need a guide while I’m inside the Crystal. Who should I trust for this? Ravus? I don’t think so. You all know that Eos always looked to only one person for inspiration,” he added, knowing exactly he was crossing a line he shouldn’t have get close to. Asking to the Kings a ressurection when he just obtained the greatest powers almost for free was really… audacious. In spite of this, there was the sparkle of a smile on his lips. Like he knew that Kings wouldn’t ever deny anything to their beloved last heir.

Nyx realized he was not so shameless compared to him. And for this reason, he promised his eternal loyalty to that young King instantly. 

“Now, now, Young King. We take lives, we don’t give them” one of the Ancestors replied though. “The favor you’re asking is something only the gods are able to grant. Throw them on your feet and they shall do as you order. They will give back the life they slowly sucked away all along. The Oracle is not of our concern.”

Noctis turned. He and Nyx shared a deep and meaningful glance.

Nyx didn’t know what to say, so great was the confusion and the emotion. He just saw history being written under his very own eyes and he could barely realize it.

“Of course. The Six ripped off Luna of her white magic, and if we kill them one by one, they’re gonna give back what they took. Luna’s life included. So, we can stick to our original plan” Noctis whispered, opening the palms of his hands and closing his eyes. The Ring glowed again, glowing red, and Nyx understood they were going back to reality with an unbelievable pact sealed with the old Kings of Lucis. Unable to formulate into words the strong emotion he felt inside, he just stepped ahead, closer to Noctis. As he reached for his shoulder, King Regis interrupted him in the attempt of stealing another promise.

“Nyx Ulric. You used the Ring and this will take a major tool on you, no matter if you’ll survive or not. The old wall is no joke and you was so reckless to ask for it. However, I am getting used to trust you with the lives of the dearest people I still have on earth, because I know you didn’t let me down and never will. Take care of my son.” 

Nyx took only one instant to figure what Regis wanted to say. The Ring was made of black magic, the darkest and the most powerful one. If it was true that the life price would have requested a certain amount of strength from Noctis’ best friends, a major price would have come upon Nyx, because he dared to use the Ring, going way too far. He couldn’t think of playing with fire without getting burned. At the same time, he couldn’t regret trying. So he nodded with a serious expression.

Regis probably was satisfied of his courage, so he added, “However, once that Luna is back, she will help you fighting the darkness of the Ring’s repercussions. Godspeed.”

And if that was the deal to be struck, the darkness didn’t scare him.

So, he smirked like he was used to, “Where do I sign?”

——————-

With a flash made of light, they returned back to reality.

Ardyn didn’t got any closer and the Gods were still raging behind, so both Nyx and Noctis realized that just a couple of seconds had passed since they left the real world to speak with the Gods.

So they didn’t lose any more time, they both sprinted up on their feet and summoned their weapons, Nyx the kukris, Noctis all the ancestral weapons in his arsenal. Shoulders against shoulders, they shared a nod and silently agreed on what to do.

They parted ways without even the need to wish each other “good luck”, because no luck was needed. They both had the power of the Kings of the past and that was an assurance of victory already.

Noctis threw himself agaist the Astrals first, knowing they were the priority if they wanted to clear the path to Ardyn and if they wanted Luna back. With the Ring on his finger he was unstoppable and lethal while Leviathan was heavily injured already. He didn’t took a lot of time to knock them off, one by one, but Nyx didn’t notice anyway. In fact, everything happened so fast that Nyx could barely aknowledge the sequence of action at all. He didn’t have the time to see Noctis killing Leviathan and Bahamut, then Ifrit, then summoning Titan and Ramuh and dispose of them too. He didn’t have the time because he was busy keeping Ardyn occupied until Noctis would have been back and he did it amazingly.

Like Regis’ ghost warned him, the power of the ring was taking a toll on his body already. He was feeling the dark magic of the Kings running through his veins, leaving marks similar to burning cinders on his skin. In spite of this, he didn’t bother. He would have kept the promise he made to Regis: he would have stood by Noctis side, no matter at what cost. He would have gifted him his own vital energy at the right moment. And he would have survived to see Luna running back in his arms.

Nyx learned that hope was the most powerful magic in his own arsenal. Without it, he wouldn’t have been the hero everyone labeled him with when for the first time in forever, he felt to stand the title.

Thinking of this, the power of the ring overwhelmed him to the point he completely lost the control on time. Maybe the pride and the self condidence were pushing him towards the darkness quicker than he could expect. Once again, he didn’t care.

Ignis and Ravus came to help him and that was when Ardyn himself started to lose the fight. All of a sudden, the Usurper couldn’t avoid the blows delivered by the kukris, nor the trajectory of the magic, and Nyx felt the darkness inside him getting stronger and stronger, he lost his soul to it.

He kept casting death spells, until the climax brought him to the point where he could barely remember how to breathe.

That was the moment when a voice called for him.

“Nyx, that’s enough.” 

He couldn’t stop immediately, even if he wanted to. He kept attacking Ardyn, like another wave of darkness had deleted his rationality, replacing it with pure fury. It was not until he recognized the voice calling him that he halted.  

“Nyx.”

He gasped.

His vision blurred.

He stopped this time.

He let the kukris falling on the ground and all of a sudden he felt like the powers of the ring abbandoned him, which made him kneel down and almost faint. His heart missed a beat, confused by the lack of adrenaline he previously lost himself to. If a pair of pale arms didn’t embrace him, he would have certainly crushed his face to the ground.

The scent of her hair hit him first. Then the warmth of her skin. Nyx sighed deeply, finding relief even before completely aknowledging what was happening. He used his last reserves of strength to hug her so tight that he feared losing her if he didn’t hold her close.

“Ardyn is gone,” she whispered in his ear, delicate like a sylleblossom and gentle as a breeze. 

He was not instead. Trembling and panting, the Glaive asked harshly, “Is he dead?” 

“No, my love. But he will be, one day. By the hand of our King, not ours.”

Fair enough.

Only then, Nyx sighed deeply, slowing regaining control on his muscles. As the power of the kings started to leave his body, he felt the skin melting and the brain going empty. He almost wanted to cry to give to vent the numbess, but he ended up abandoning himself to her, burying his nose in her hair.  

“We both did enough, Nyx. Let’s take a break.”

Her voice was so calm, and that was the only thing that prevent him from falling apart.

Nyx flinched back to look at her, eager to involve other senses in the relief of having her back. And Lunafreya was there, real and alive. He admired the square shape of her jaw, the bones of her collarbone, the crystal blue of her beautiful eyes. She was covered in powder and dirty water, but she never looked so human and beautiful. He immediately reached for her cheeks, to caress them and wipe away a tear stemming from the source.

“You’re back,” he whispered, still shaking. The spirals similar to burning cinder reached his neck, but the only touch of Lunafreya’s hand took it away with a glow. Her healing magic was his cure. Not even when he made love to her thinking there was no tomorrow, he felt more intimately connected to her like when she cured him in that specific situation. She literally sucked away the darkness inside him with the delicate touch of her fingers and that felt like heaven. With a sigh of relief, he leaned forward to kiss her smile. When they interrupted the kiss a minute later, she finally managed to nod. 

“What did you offer to the Kings in exchange of my life?” 

“Nothing more than what we already planned to offer. The lives of the Six.”

Luna opened her mouth in disbelief and immediately checked the marks on her stomach. Nothing was visible under her thin and white dress, which meant they were all gone. The knife wound created by Ardyn was gone, too, and only the stain of the dark blood smudged the fabric. The destruction of the gods inverted the course of her destiny, exactly like they originally expected. When Noctis killed them, their death gave back her life, her magic and her health.

Realizing this, Luna gasped but the shock on her face was well concealed by the calm of her inner confusion. She was just too surprised to actually show it. She just stood like that, Nyx’s hands on hers, and said nothing.

In the meantime, around them the fog had cleared, revealing that Ardyn had dissapeared. Ravus and Ignis - exausted by the surreal fight - limped toward Nyx’s and Luna’s direction, dismay on their faces that in Ravus’ case quickly turned into excitement.

“Lunafreya!” he screamed, shamelessly stealing her from Nyx’s arms to hug her like he never did before. Luna gladly accepted his affection for once, wondering why she had to die before seeing his brother act like when they were children. “You were dead. How…?”

Nyx stood up with difficulty, looking at the weird spirals on his burning skin slowly dissapear, leaving behind scars. Shelving the mixed feelings he had towards the Ring’s blood price and Noctis’ survival, he focused on the view of Altissia around them.

Destruction and chaos was everywhere.

The corpse of the gods had dissapeared immediately after their death, but the signs of their rage remained in the felled buildings and broken bridges. The darken clouds in the sky opened a little, so the weak rays of sunshine could touch the flowers destroyed by the water, the upside down tables and chairs of the restaurants and the broken glasses of the windows. It was a distressing view, but Nyx could only feel relief.

The Gods were gone. Somehow, they accomplished the impossible. But if the battle was won, so it wasn’t the war. Izunia was still alive and he would have spread the Darkness upon all Eos. 

As a matter of fact, he looked for Noctis and noticed him up there where what was left of the altar was located. He stood all alone with the Crystal next to him. Even from the distance, the ring on his had was extremely visible, as much as the sad expression on his face.

His eyes met Nyx’s, and he smiled. That look meant a lot for them both. It meant “I will be back soon I promise”, “go, we’ll settle the rest”, “hold on until the day I will reclaim the throne”, “take care of them” and also … “take care of her”. Nyx somehow understood all the layers of the glance and simply nodded, clenching the jaw in a nervous and silent movement.

Then, Noctis quickly glanced back at Ignis, looking for Prompto and Gladiolus who were running in their direction. A soft smile warmed up his expression. In that moment, Nyx noticed that something was different in him, already. His way of standing tall was different, his shoulders were straighten up, his face looked more mature. And when he turned his back to his friends to enter inside the Crystal, Nyx observed the awareness in his walking.

The young prince would have been a great King once he would have come out of the Crystal. He would have lived long enough to rule well on Eos, sharing his burden with his loyal friends. With him, too.

While he was thinking at this, Luna’s fingers slid between Nyx’s ones, delicate as feathers. The Glaive turned to watch her positioning next to him, holding up to his arm. Her eyes were glowing like diamonds under the rays of the sun, a sun that would have shown rarely in the next years.

Nyx found inspiration in watching her, knowing that she would have lead Eos during Noctis’ absence, spreading hope in his return.

So, it was it. The moment of the separation had come. Darkness would have fallen upon them. But it would have been temporary.

Nyx and Luna stood in silent reverence as they watched their future King dissapear inside the Crystal, leaving the burden of the world on their shoulders.

[mountfandom]

The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson

I'm not sure I can quite put into words how stunning this book was. The Way of Kings follows an array of characters in aftermath of the murder of the king of Alethkar. The new king sought revenge and a whole host of other problems arise from that.

Let me start with some spoiler free thoughts. The three main perspectives in this book are Kaladin, Shallan and Dalinar sprinkled with Interludes of other characters and occasional minor chapters from other characters. The story is woven together from 3 separate locations from the three main characters all playing very different roles. Kaladin is a slave trapped in a bridge crew, Dalinar a highprince of great importance and Shallan a studious girl with shadowy motives.

I loved all three of them with all my heart. Kaladin has a magnificent arc throughout the book and it starts at such a dark place. Sanderson is quite like any author in his handling of multiple stories and he does it so perfectly. Shallan is unique because she is so far removed from the others, she is so intelligent and creative but her ulterior motives are dangerous. Dalinar I hesitate to say is my favourite. He is so wise and level-headed and just generally a great leader. He has his heart in the right place and I love him for it soooooo much.

Plot wise for a non-spoilery thing, we have a lot of plot threads ongoing that all are largely hinting at something much greater. There is so much history and world and powers that you have to kind of wrap your head around and I'm still not sure on some bits but that's mostly because they weren't heavily featured. Sanderson is an excellent worldbuilder because it never feels like exposition, it always feels relevant and keeps the story moving forward. All the storylines come to great climaxes and have a soft denouement that sets up the Words of Radiance excellently. I don't want to say any details because I knew nothing going in and I think it was so much better that way.

Spoilers ahead Now let's start with the beginning, because I think it bears some thinking about. I'll admit I was confused at the beginning because you get a couple of chapters from characters that promptly disappear. Then we finally meet Kaladin the slave. And he is so broken, we get glimpses of his glory in the beginning but now we truly get the starting point. He is damaged and enslaved for reasons we find out through handy dandy flashbacks sprinkled throughout. Unlike some books were I wasn't fond of the flashbacks I think these were excellent because they had a whole separate storyline that just wove so well with the present to reveal exactly what happened to Kaladin. Once he becomes a bridgman we get going. The bridgemen are treated like absolute shit. And Kaladin is put with the worst of them. Bridge four. Oh Bridge Four my precious gang of broken people. Bridgemen are the lowest of Sadeas's army forced to carry the bridges across the Shattered Plains so the army can march into battle across the chasms. They are expected to die. All of them are disposable. And that fucking grates Kaladin and he finally gets his ass in gear. Initially everyone really thinks he's a weirdo, because like why is he trying to help the bridgemen. Even his fellows in B4 are against him. But through his prodigious skill as an ex-soldier and surgeon he slowly begins convincing them. His surgeony stuff is very helpful because they are all so often getting injured. It made him such an interesting character as a soldier and a surgeon, a healer and a fighter. And that kinda plays at the end with his discomfort with killing. He begins slowly helping them with injuries and beginning to gather extra food. And then he begins training them, like actually training them. They become so efficient and I fucking loved it. I adored them all getting whipped into shape. Moash, Rock and Teft are like my fave bridgemen, they all brought something different to the table. Rock was so randomly funny and Teft such a good second in command to Kaladin. And as we get further into the book they begin to plot to escape the bridge crews and Kaladin starts training them after his highstorm encounter. Which by the way one of the most horrific chapters I've ever read. Like that is some endurance and he gets destroyed. But he has Syl. Which brings me onto the surgebinding discovery. He starts absorbing stormlight. Which in itself is really weird. But damn I loved it. Surgebinding I'm still a little confused on but Kaladin's discovery of using it was so cool. And it was by accident for so long but Teft sussed it out. Clever ole Teft. Bit by bit he learns to use it for the climactic fight. Oh my god I can't even the battle of the Tower was stunning from both perspectives. Kaladin and his spear though, a force to be reckoned with. In short I loved Kaladin, I loved his journey and his bouts of lows and how they were contrasted by the highs of his building friendships. Sure the tragedy in his past was awful but he learnt from it.

Shallan is the least seen perspective character but she is rather different because she isn't an action packed storyline. She is all about intelligence. She's on a mission to get a Soulcaster off Jasnah, Elhokar's sister. I'll admit I was a little disapproving of this mission at first but damn this whole storyline had me intrigued. Firstly because Jasnah is a badass. Not in a kickass kinda way but also in that way because that horrific murder of the thugs scene. Turning a man to crystal and smoke like damn. But mostly because she is one of the most intelligent characters I've ever read about. She asks all the questions to get Shallan to think not blindly learn. As she decides to take Shallan as a ward despite her educational gaps she teaches some necessary lessons. Sure Shallan isn't that interested in history she's more interested in scheming and flirting with Kabsal. Side I really liked Kabsal but disappointed in his reveal as a would-be assassin. That whole thing of the poisoned bread was traumatic. Like oh my god my fucking heart. Shallan recovers from her accidental soulcast, which people assume was a suicide attempt, only to almost die because she doesn't want jam on her bread. Like what. Also those fucking creepy spirits with glyphs as heads in her drawings genuinely had me scared. I think Sanderson really did an incredible job of making them creepy but not cheesy. Menacing but not threatening. At the end though Shallan has learnt a lot and comes to Jasnah after being caught for stealing her soulcaster with the revelation that the soulcasting isn't coming from the fabrial. It's coming from within Jasnah and more interestingly Shallan did the same. It poses an interesting point because it is akin to the Knights Radiant like Kaladin's surgebinding is like them. Hmm link I see? But best plot twist in fucking history. So we keep hearing about the voidbringers and the return of the voidbringers and they are evil and they are the parshmen. The servant figures that do just about everything menial and they are the voidbringers. Jasnah the genius has worked it out and she has some theories of their cousins the Parshendi, the group behind the murder of King Gavilar. Now they are on their way to study the Parshendi on the Shattered Plains. Short story Shallan provides an excellent resource to give large amounts of backstory and conversation about things that relate to other characters and the overarching plot. She is witty and creative but vulnerable and naive from her sheltered childhood. I thoroughly enjoyed her learning process and can't wait to read Words of Radiance as her focus book.

Last main character plot I wanna talk about is Dalinar. Oh Dalinar, the brother of Gavilar and Uncle to King Elhokar. Highprince, acclaimed warlord and pending lunatic. In the highstorms he experiences visions of the past which we only find out later but they are visions of the past. He seems wars of the Knights Radiants and the Day of Recreance when they all give up. And it all seems to slowly point towards where they must head. A united Alethkar. That is Dalinar's goal. A bit of context for the Shattered Plains wars, they are fighting over gemhearts, they treat it as a game against the Parshendi as opposed to revenge for killing Gavilar. It's about wealth. Dalinar does not care though. He grows tired of the war and I'm like me too Dalinar, me too. It doesn't help Sadeas is there. Because he is a massive twat. Seemingly a nice guy but turns out not. Everyone is against an alliance though all the highprinces are like no. And I was like listen to Dalinar he's so clever and wise and ughhhhhhhh. Then Sadeas is like yes. And then it fucking ends up with him betraying him in one of the greatest battles ever. BofT. Sadeas retreats and it's like nooooooo all is lost but Kal and his bridge crew comes back to save the day. It's a intense fight and an incredibly battle sequence from all characters. Dalinar is not only about battle though he has complex relationships especially with his son Adolin. Adolin is someone I'm not sure of. He's so hot-headed and against the visions being true him and Dalinar butt heads a lot. Only when Dalinar announces his intent to step down Adolin is quick to change his tune. In reality I think he's a scared boy he doesn't know quite what he wants, like his constant changing of courtships. They are quite the foil to one another but I loved their dynamic. Dalinar is best. End of. I loved his storyline soooooo much. I didn't know what to do with myself. A united Alethkar before the Everstorm. An ominous prophecy with a deadline my kind of thing.

Szeth is the main secondary character that is of importance as the assassin of Gavilar. He is incredibly powerful but bound to the Oath stone thing which I still don't quite get. But most intriguing is actually the ending with king of Kharbranth whose name I can't spell. He's actually behind the slaughter of lots of important people after he acquires the oath stone. I want to see more Szeth and I hope we do.

Overall an excellent book written perfectly. It balances action, magic, politics, religion and personal storylines with an expert hand as I'd expert from Brandon Sanderson. This also introduces some big concepts for the Cosmere so I need to keep going. Hoid actually had a substantial appearance in this which I liked, it actually gave more growth to him as a character which I thought was merited. This is honestly a masterpiece and I can't wait to continue.

[clan-fuildarach]

I'm not sure if you talked about it more before I started following your blog, but I'm pretty curious about the origins of your dragon characters tbh. Like, are they like ur OCs you had in a big story you had in your head or smth that you adapted to write as dragons in a separate AU-type thing? I'd love to hear more about it or be directed to a place where you've written about it somewhere.

well you’re mostly right! many of my characters here (luke rúth delta neven john mikaelxandra rezann leo) are just au versions of characters i already had. and it’s less a big story i had in my head and more a 10-year project that’s over 2 million words long and 2 rewrites deep atm - i’ve written eleven or twelve books (it’s subjective) and done countless more au stuff and exploratory stories that just get into anatomy and worldbuilding and stuff like that (so like... stuff that would be really boring to anyone but me). i’m not saying any of it is any good or worth reading, but it sure is a thing. 

i stopped incorporating my old characters into fr dragons in 2015 so any dragon i’ve made since then is original to my fr lore (which started off as a fantasy version of my other story but then diverged wildly off into completely different territory) 

i do have a blog dedicated to it but it’s password locked and i’m not giving out the url. i do have a blog supposedly dedicated to my personal creative work over at @fuildorcha but it’s been a while since i posted there (but i might start posting soon since i’m starting to get back into writing and planning and what have u) 

uhh i’ll do a really basic bare-bones plot summary and a quick intro paragraph to where each character comes from under the cut here so u all know where i’m coming from 

basically it’s a first-contact story? but with alternate dimensions/parallel universes rather than straight-up aliens. each one of the characters listed above (except for the last 3) belongs to a different dimension, and the story is basically about how they meet. and there’s the added uh emotional poignancy in the fact that the first 6 of them are not human and are supposed to be the only ones of their kind, so basically each one has lived a life expecting to never ever meet another like them, to only have humans for company. but obviously they do meet. and they end up doing some really dumb but also heroic stuff while also liberating a bunch of people from oppressive regimes. they also learn that maybe the real treasure was the friends we made along the way 

the main character is luke who is fond of making these super unhelpful crusades against those he considers to be his allies but really no one wants his help because he just makes things worse like constantly, as a habit, without really caring about consequences. he’s a jerk of course and permanently fucked up after the death of his sibling way back when. but one day he makes a Big Terrible Mistake that killed a lot of people, irradiated a major city, and would have resulted in him being imprisoned for basically the rest of his life and also introduces the concept of laser superweapons to humanity (this can only go well lmao) and - as a knock-on effect - the ability to break the dimension barrier. like he really fucked up. but instead of being sent to jail he gets forcibly drafted into the service of a government scientist, emma, who gives him an ultimatum: work for me for free and get exploited endlessly, or rot in jail for the rest of ur life. his treatment at the hands of his captors (who pretend they’re on his side, they’re very evil) results in a vengeance crusade on his part that sets off the whole first-contact chain of events. he lives in a world like ours, except that there was a rebellion against the british monarchy a couple hundred years ago. on the run from the law he meets a very lost and very confused stranger who doesn’t speak a word of english and is also rúth. the two of em fall in love. aw (luke is still nonbinary and given the chance would use ‘they’ pronouns here too but i wanted to make the world like ours as much as possible and luke hates standing out in any way so he wouldn’t want to use a non-standard pronoun set. so he just uses the set that matches his name) 

john comes from a radically different dimension, one where the monarchy spread and basically controls the entire planet. but, unsatisfied with that, his queen alexandra began colonising other dimensions and stripping them of their resources (and thus ensuring that her own home is the best-equipped and richest and all that). john is the queen’s weapon, it’s his job to “quell dissenters” which is a nice way of saying that he goes in to contested areas and massacres everyone. but he is beginning to doubt his role and the ethicality thereof, and is very curious about the numerous blank patches in his memory that seem to coincide with every previous occasion he entertained potentially treasonous thoughts. seeking to put an end to luke’s campaign against her, emma reaches out to the monarchy to ask for aid. the queen sends in john to do his normal job but things don’t go as planned. john switches sides and becomes basically the most wanted person in the universe.

rúth’s dimension is inextricably linked to john’s - it is the victim of the monarchy’s first attempts at extra-dimensional colonialism. the monarchy fucked up a lot back then, before perfecting its technique, and the battle between rúth’s predecessor and john’s predecessor over the territory completely destroyed the entire mediterranean, turning it into a desert. rúth’s predecessor lost the fight and the monarchy took root in france and spread south. but an unintended consequence of the battle were the chemical reactions in the soil and atmosphere that led to the formation of dye deposits - the only ones of their kind in any dimension. if not for them, the population would have left the desert, but they hung on to mine out the dyes. rúth lived a relatively peaceful normal life until accidentally stumbling through a monarchy portal into luke’s world. with a french-english dictionary and a lot of sign language, luke manages to communicate to rúth that he needs help to fight against john

now ok, neven comes from a parallel version of rúth’s world where the monarchy lost the big battle, but the desertification happened anyway. neven’s people sought safety in the monarchy dimension and took on the mantle of being imperialist jerks. eventually a bunch of bad shit happens and the dimension becomes uninhabitable, so they do the most logical thing and build a space ship to live on. neven is there the whole time, being treated as the avatar of god and the champion of their race etc etc. in the early 1900s, the space ship breaks into a new dimension which it allies with, and neven finally meets another one like them. the two never get a chance to communicate much, but they fight together for about a hundred years and neven falls in love. aw. eventually one of the space ship’s oldest allies - the monarchy from john’s world - gets absolutely destroyed via mysterious circumstances. commander of the space ship, rezann, decides to take the opportunity to cannibalise the monarchy’s remains and execute anyone who might attempt to resurrect it - this includes john.  

delta (for it is he whom neven loves) is literally the parallel version of luke. like they are the same person, genetically identical, but their dimensions veered off very early on, so due to the two of them growing up in completely different circumstances, delta bears almost no resemblance to luke besides appearance (and then only barely). delta comes from a wonderfully idyllic background - sent to a workhouse when he was young, he was part of a rebellion that saw the workers take control and basically start their own little settlement. this prospered for hundreds of years, with delta as its guardian, until that world’s monarchy went to war. the men of the village were hit by the draft and delta decided to go with them to keep them safe. unfortunately he was discovered as Not What He Seems by the king and instead of helping his settlement, he inadvertently causes it to be wiped off the map by revealing its presence (and the presence of its pagan, blasphemous population) to the king. delta gets mind-wiped, forgets his real name, and gets thrown onto the front lines to fight beside neven. later - years and years later - he gets in some real bad shit, gets basically everything taken from him, and would probably die alone and in pain, but he gets rescued. he gets a happy ending 

leo comes from a completely different unrelated story, he’s a frustrated IT technician working in a computer shop who basically becomes the plaything of the gods. but there’s no real plot to be had, i just liked his character enough to move him over into fr at the time (2014). fr!leo has had way more character development than og!leo who i don’t really write about any more

[bearnece-city]

Ivory Keys: An Excerpt (to be used as base Treatment for Feature Screenplay) by Ara Bear

Evening. Smoke clouds fill an exposed brick, jazz club on the lower east side. The year is 1972. Patrons come and go as they please, musicians bump along behind the laughter, tobacco, and too loud talk. Though no one pays attention to the music around them, everyone moves to its rhythm. Music cuts, people move, to get away from whatever conversation they no longer want to have; or the music treads on, urging you to find your pace – talk too slow, too fast, just right.

When people enter, they notice the chunks missing from cracked brick and cement walls, and then the bar. Maybe the tune, but never who is playing the tune, who is controlling the rhythm.

William Shepard noticed the cracked brick, but it wasn’t the bar he saw second; it was Nick – and some could even argue that it was Nick he saw first.

William with his golden pompadour waves and early acceptance to Stanford Medical School, was not meant for the lower east side, but he needed a break to breathe. And breathe he did.

William was with his friends and girlfriend Jenny. They all spoke at once about the dingy place, the fog, the jazz; they were squeamish, but interested in the city’s underbelly. Will could not even speak to the beauty they all missed among the grime – Nick.

Nick’s jawline was covered in five o’clock shadow, with a single piece of chocolate, almost black hair, falling in front of his forehead, long enough to reach his right eye. His head hung down as he clamored away at ivory keys. William saw all of this.

Jenny, his friends, the room, and Nick all grappled for William’s attention. Nick won. But, Jenny tugged at William and lead the friends to a table closest to the bar, farthest from Nick. Will sat easily, snapping back into reality.

The night carried on as any other. They drank, laughed, smoked, talked, smoked, laughed, drank. They – including Will – fell into the rhythm played by Nick and his ivory keys, all the while forgetting he was even there.

Music cut out and it was time to make a choice: move on or wait for the next tune. Will and his friends chose the former; it was Thursday and it was getting late. Jenny and their friends went outside and left Will with the check. He was used to it. He sat at the bar, until the waiter would lock eyes with him long enough for him to mime “Check

please.” A new song had not rung over the room yet in a couple minutes. Nick had left his post and a new artist set up shop.

Sauntering off stage in tight blue flares and a – supposed to be white – dingy t-shirt, Nick made his way to the bar, to sit, in the seat next to Will. Turning to get the waiter’s eye Will caught Nick just as he sat down.

Nick commanded the bar; he had the waiter tending to him almost before he settled in his seat; he’d noticed Will having trouble and made a motion toward him, asking for two bourbons: two fingers, dry.

“Oh, no. I just need the check,” Will spoke up. “Not a fan of bourbon?” said Nick. “No. Yes,” Will fumbled. “What I meant was, I don’t mind Bourbon, I’m just picking up the bill, then

meeting my friends outside.” “So, just not a fan of me?” Nick chuckled. “What? No. You were great. Really,” said Will. “Name a song from tonight,” said Nick. Will was flustered. He had noticed Nick, but now he saw him there, so close. It was clear Nick was only

teasing. Even so, Will hadn’t an answer. “All of it. Great. Really,” said Will. The waiter came back with two bourbons. “Have a drink and I’ll consider it square,” said Nick. Tempted, Will sat silently for a second. He noticed the veins that outlined Nick’s hands as he reached for his

own glass. “I’ll pay for mine, but I can’t,” said Will. Nick swiftly knocked back the drink he was holding and reached out for the second glass. “Don’t sweat it,” said Nick. And just as Will was on his way, Nick crossed one leg over the other, accidentally brushing his foot against

Will’s . Will looked down, then back to Nick. “Don’t sweat it,” said Will.

Will went back to his dorm on the upper West side and dropped Jenny to her room.

“Comin in?,” she said. “Not tonight, I’m just exhausted. Been a long day,” said Will. The two-kissed goodnight and Will went back to his room. On the opposite side of the city, Nick wandered through the desolate streets of Brooklyn, making sharp turns

at every corner and running through every light. He moved like every muscle was controlled by a melody; taking two quick steps then a slow followed by a flourish of the arm or the occasional spin. He did not care who saw him, who judged him.

Nick made his way into a tenement building somewhere between the ritzy Park Slope and the colorless Bay Ridge. 40th street; a tan cinder block building, but you wouldn’t notice that amidst the illegible graffiti that painted its every inch. The sidewalks steamed from subway grates where Nick could feel the D train rumble under him. The corners smelled of piss and sweat – and home, for Nick.

Nick continued his melodic steps up to his apartment. Opening the door Nick saw his father in the kitchen. “You up?” said Nick. “Got off tomorrow, can finally sleep in. Thought I’d make the most of it,” said Nick’s dad. “Long as you’re not waitin’ for me,” replied Nick.

“Stay up with the old man?”

The two settled into their modest living room with two single chairs and a T.V. Nick’s dad grabbed a beer from the fridge and tossed one to Nick who fiddled with the TV antennae, trying to get a signal, or steal the neighbors – whichever worked first. Catching a signal, the two sat down to an episode of “The Odd Couple.”

“Always thought those two were a couple of fags,” said Nick’s dad.

Nick sat silently, sipping his beer then putting it down. Nick’s dad looked to him for a response. Nick grabbed his beer and continued to drink, though he was almost finished he drank like it was half full.

“Fags on T.V. and I’m barely makin’ rent working construction. Man’s work. Don’t pay like it used to.”

Nick finished his beer and fished in his seat for the remote. He flipped the channel and passed the remote to his father.

“Early day tomorrow, think I’m gonna call it a night,” said Nick.

Two weeks had gone by since that night. Nick had been playing in various clubs in the city and the city streets. Will, however, had spent the past two weekends back at that same club, hoping for another chance to see Nick, for another chance at bourbon, two fingers dry.

It was Saturday night and Will is tired of waiting.

Making his way back home, Will thought about Jenny. She had bought him a gold cuff link, pressed with Stanford’s crest to congratulate him on his acceptance. Will, then, gingerly rubbed his thumb over the cuff link. He hadn’t seen much of Jenny lately and as he approached campus, thought of stopping in to see her.

Five city-blocks out from the dorms, Will could hear soft jazz playing. He stopped rubbing the cuff link and closed his eyes. Will back tracked his steps and leaned against the open doorway of the club. There wasn’t the same underground vibe and people actually listened to the music around them and took it in as a substitute for conversation. Red light beamed over top shelf whiskey air.

Engrossed, Will walked in and took a moment to peer around the room.

“Alright, alright, alright bad cats, we have one more for ya tonight. Welcome this far-out fox all the way from Brooklyn...Nick Holt, on the sweet ivory keys,” said the club announcer.

Will saw red. Not because of the light in the room or a sudden surge of anger, but from his longing and excitement. Now he knew his name – Nick.

Will posted himself up at the bar, never facing inward, only out toward the stage, toward Nick. He never even ordered a drink. Just sat and watched. Just sat and smiled, and bumped on, to Nick’s rhythm.

After his set, Nick did as before. Sauntered off, sat at the bar. Next to Will. “You dig Jazz I gather?” said Nick. “Something like that,” said Will. Before Nick had the chance to retort, Will ordered two bourbons.

“Figured I owed you,” said Will. “For last time? Said, don’t stress it,” said Nick “For your ‘sweet keys’,” said Will. And the two laughed Nick, had seen Will walk in. Keys first and everything else second was Nick’s way of focusing on his goals.

But even still, that night he played on, hard and strong making sure not to lose a single person in the room.

“Yea, that guy is somethin’ else,” said Nick. The waiter came back with the bourbons. “You forgot to tell ‘em dry.” Will had not managed to come off as cool as he had wanted. “So jazz, why?,” Will said trying to recover.

“Why not? But really man, we’re losing the greats, Armstrong?,” said Nick. Will wanted to listen to Nick, but he could not focus beyond his lips to hear what he was actually saying. “And not to come off as you know..., but I think I could be that great,” finished Nick. Will stared blankly and filled the musky wood smelling air with “I have some records back at my place.” “Maybe I should come by sometime,” said Nick. “How ‘bout now?” Will said, shocking himself in his reply. Nick was puzzled, but smirked as he lifted his drink and looked straight down the glass. Nick knocked back

his drink. “Easy when it’s mostly ice,” teased Nick. “Come to think of it, I might have some better stuff, and I don’t have an ice machine,” said Will. The two left the bar at a hesitant pace, almost waiting for one of them to turn around, make an excuse to why

tonight wasn’t a good night. But, neither did, so they walked on. Will’s place was so close, there was no time wasted between them being at a crowded bar and them alone in Will’s room. It was quick enough that they could not think, which was terrifying, but also a relief.

“You have got two records man,” said Nick. “And neither are good; I mean Bread? Bowie? Psychs and depressants, where’s the groove?”

Will walked over to where Nick was in his room. The record player was set up on the desk by his bed. Will liked to put on music as he slept. “Excuse you, but I have at least five: Hendrix, Morrison, Bowie, Bread, and Zeppelin.”

“Listen to what they tell you to. Who are you, what do you want to hear?” said Nick.

“Maybe I like what these artists have to say,” Although, Will knew he knew not a thing about music and it was showing.

“Yea. Thought you brought me back here to listen to jazz?”

Will took the Bowie record from Nick’s hand, touching it slightly. “I said I had records, you assumed jazz. I just didn’t correct you.”

Nick moved in closer to Will. He reached for the record. “Maybe I’d like to hear this,” he said, as he grabbed it with a flourish. He spun it once in his hand then slid the record from its casing and placed it on the turn table. Leaning over Nick, Will placed the needle on his favorite spot. Will, just over Nick’s shoulder could take in his subtle scent of liquor and sweat. It was sweeter than one might think. Nick couldn’t help but notice their proximity and turned his face, away from the spinning record, to meet Will’s face by his shoulder.

“Did you also lie about that drink?” said Nick.

Will, abruptly, removed himself from behind Nick. He went off to his closet and rummaged for a minute. He knew exactly where his liquor was, but needed time to think, assess. He went through the logic like the med student he was sure to be, weighing possible outcomes, situations, what could go right, what could go wrong. Finally, he reemerged, bottle of whiskey in hand.

Nick walked over to Will. “Well?” said Nick. Will pointed to a glass on his desk and began to step away. “No need,” said Nick. And Nick took the bottle from Will, twisted off the cap and began to drink straight

from the bottle. He took his pull then passed it to Will; Will did the same. When it was Nick’s turn to take the bottle, he did but, he held it to his side.

“Name’s Nick,” he said. “I know, the club guy said it before you went on. Nick Holt,” it was burned into Will’s memory. Nick looked away and smirked; when he came back into the moment Will reached up and placed back

Nick’s straggling hair that never wanted to be anywhere but, in front of his eyes. Nick, with his free hand met Will’s wrist by his forehead, and pinned it against the closet door behind him, snapping it shut. Will was breathless. Nick pressed his lips to Will’s, both of them tasting of whiskey. Will jerked, but only for a moment before allowing Nick to do as he pleased.

With the bottle still in his hand, Nick continued to kiss Will and removed his other hand from Will’s wrist to begin to explore Will’s body. There was no thinking now as Will pushed away from the closet urging the two to stumble back to Will’s bed. They stopped long enough for Nick to take another swig from the bottle, set it down on Will’s desk, and now with free hands undo his fly.

As he had done that first night at the bar, Nick took complete control. He started stripping Will, pressing him down chest first on the bed as he climbed on top. Will muffled his breath and screeching moans into a pillow, in part to not let anyone else know what was happening and in part to not let Nick know his inexperience.

Done, Nick slipped on to one side of the bed. Will propped himself up with his head in his hands and his elbow digging into the now needed to be washed sheets.

“Name’s Will,” he said, looking up at Nick.

Still somewhat breathy Nick replied, “Nice to meet you.” The two laughed to themselves, then with each other.

“I have a girlfriend,” said Will. “We all do.” “What?” Nick had put together Will’s inexperience early in the night, but did not care. And this is how it went for three months. Will met Nick at gigs; Nick stood outside of Will’s dorm hall. Nick

introduced Will to the underground gay clubs of the east side, of Brooklyn and Queens. They danced, hard and sensual against the streaky nightlife lights and sweaty bodies, who were just like theirs. Nick spent nights teaching Will about music, sound, soul and rhythm; Will told Nick of his hopes and dreams of becoming a trauma surgeon overseas; if he could not stop the war in Vietnam, he would aide its victims. A pressure had been released on both of them: for Will, he cared about something beyond himself and his success and now Nick only played the ivory keys on weekends; his weeknights were too filled with Will.

The two created an oblivion between them where they saw, felt, and touched nothing else in the world, but each other, with only brief moments pulling them out. They found it hard to hide themselves in in public.

One day, making their way from the upper west side to Brooklyn the two had no choice, but to ride the subway. They caught the 1 train downtown; both stood against the train door. When they spoke, they did so in such proximity one could either think they were lovers or both hard of hearing.

“Take me to your place,” said Will.

Nick leaned in, so close he spoke into Will’s lips and nose. “Think I’m rollin’ with someone else? But, dear you are water turned to wine, I could want nothing more,” said Nick.

Will playfully pushed his hand against Nick’s chest; Nick moved his hand to meet Will’s in a loose holding of hands. Looking away from Nick to see what stop they were at, Will noticed eyes burning holes into him and Nick, each faced looked utterly disgusted with the two. At the following stop, a man pushed through Nick and Will, rougher that necessary followed by a mumble under his breath. They joined together again once the door closed, but this time when Nick came closer to Will, Will moved and pointed to two seats at the far back of the train.

Five months now. Will was set to graduate in a few weeks, Nick was still lapping up gigs where he could. They were in Will’s bed when they spoke of their lives to come; Miles Davis echoing off the turntable.

“I want to...to be with you after you finish” said Nick. “I’ll be in California. You want to be in California, middle of nowhere with no license?” “You are worth a license and nowhere with you is better than I ever thought I’d get,” Nick moved his bare

body on to Will’s. Nick was serious and would not let the subject lie. He got frustrated by Will’s deflections each time he

brought it up. “Prove it!,” shouted Nick in the middle of Washington Square park. “Tell me you love me, or I’m out.” “Would you stop. I don’t work for my money. My dad will cut me off, if I tell I lose everything,” said Will. “Nothing every distracts me from my music and I let you.” Nicked stormed off, basically ran back to Brooklyn. He was upset, red cheeked and puffy. Meanwhile, Will

had went back up to Columbia. He didn’t want to lose Nick, but he couldn’t see their future the way Nick could. He found a way to buy himself some time, while still showing his commitment, for Nick. He walked passed the jazz club, passed his dorm and vigorously began knocking on a door.

Nick was now home, his dad in the chair, beer in one hand remote in the other. “Dad! Dad?”

Nick’s father turned to look at him. “Son. Someone jump ya?” he said watching his tear, streaked son’s face. “No. I got something to tell you.” Back on the west side, the door behind Will’s fist opened. It was Jenny. He had seen her less in the past few

months, but she chalked it up to pre-med stress which was an understatement. Jenny went in for a kiss, but Will pulled back.

“I’m going to the other side of the country Jen. I think it’s time.” He left Jenny sobbing on her bed. One person off his chest. Nick was now hurriedly packing a backpack, shoving in as much as he could. “No lip wrist musicians in my house. This ain’t even our house Nicky! The landlord sure to put us out there.

Send us both on our asses. You like that? Being on your ass? No. Not here. When you want to be a man, you knock on my door.”

Nick pushed passed his dad practically leaping over the tenement steps, floating to Will’s dorm. “I broke up with Jenny. See? I told you, it’s just you,” Will said as Nick moved passed him to his bed. Will was so excited to give his news to Nick he failed to take notice of his bags, both in hand and under

watery eyes. “I’m did it. I’m out” said Nick.

“You told your dad?” “Yea. And I’m out. Pest control; don’t like fags. I mean, I knew but hoped but couldn’t keep hoping.” Will stood without words, just like the first time he had seen Nick. “No Jenny, guess there is no reason you can’t stay here,” said Will. In the summer months Will and Nick carried on as they had before that day. They made plans of their new

life in California. Will told Nick he’d come out to his dad and everything was moving along fine; rhythmic almost in their pattern. But, like any rhythm one note has to break pattern, to get to the next part of a song going; to change it, to move it along.

“I don’t think I have enough summer wear for a year. I’m gonna start lookin for clubs out there. Somethin’ to do when you’re being smart,” said Nick.

Two weeks before Stanford and Will knew he couldn’t keep up the lie any longer. “He doesn’t know,” said Will. They were on the subway, on their way back from one of their best nights out. Neither knew it would be their

last. “Huh?”

“You can’t come to California. I’m going to the other side of the country.” And so Will went on to gave the same trodden talk he’d given Jenny months before.

“I think it’s time we—“ and just as Will was about to put an end to it all the train came to its next stop. Nick got up and walked off. Will did not chase him. He had too much to lose. It was time.

Mid-day. Fifteen years passed. Will now lived upstate; he was a general surgeon, had a wife and a son with another on the way. He went on like Nick had never happened, though he always knew he did. He never did anything or anyone with as much love as he had done Nick. Fifteen years since he had been with a man.

One night after work, Will went into the city. He went back to one of the underground clubs that Nick had brought him to, only to find it no longer existed. Defeated, Will made his way back to his car, prepared to drive home. He didn’t know what it was he was looking for. Then a tune caught his ear. Two blocks south. “My Funny Valentine.”Willcouldn’tbelievejazzlastedthislong,itwas1987. Hefollowedthetuneandstoppedin.Afterafew scans of the room, Will came up blank.

“You lookin for someone baby?” said a man by the bar. He was dressed in mostly neon and glitter stroked his eyelids. “No. Thank You.” “Oh, I know your type. Shy?” Who was this man and how did he know? Was it always that present on Will’s face? The unknown man

scribbled a number on a napkin. Just as Will got up to leave he brushed him with his foot. “Not your type? Fine. Call this number, sure we got one for you,” and Will was on his way. Will went home. He left the napkin in his car glove box. He looked to the glove box every day; on his way to

work, on his way home. One day during lunch, Will went out and made a call. “Yes? Hello? Yes, Hi. I was told to call this number if I want—“

“I know what you want baby,” said the voice on the other line. “Just tell me when and how you want it.” “I don’t—this was a mistake.” “Hold on, hold on. What’s your type? I have a fit fella; 6ft blonde. 23.” “Too young.”

“Ok. How about mid-thirties, dark hair with a little salt sprinkled in?” “Yes, yes. That’s fine.” “Where am I sending, him honey?” “East side motel, 8’oclock,” and Will hung up the phone.

The whole drive over to the city, Will’s chest felt heavy and his mind cloudy. He had made it to the hotel, 15 minutes early. Enough time to pour himself a drink. He needed to breathe.

A knock came at the door. The man’s back was turned at Will’s opening of the door; “You ready for me?” replied the man. He turned on his heels to face Will.

“William goddamn Shepard.” It was Nick.

As Will drove off back to security he could not yet bring himself home. He stopped at a local bar and decided to stay for the day. He grabbed a seat. “Bourbon,” he said and held up two fingers. “Make it dry.”

[newstfionline]

What happens to children who survive school shootings in America?

By John Woodrow Cox and Steven Rich, Washington Post, March 21, 2018

Thirteen at Columbine. Twenty-six at Sandy Hook. Seventeen at Marjory Stoneman Douglas.

Over the past two decades, a handful of massacres that have come to define school shootings in this country are almost always remembered for the students and educators slain. Death tolls are repeated so often that the numbers and places become permanently linked.

What those figures fail to capture, though, is the collateral damage of this uniquely American crisis. Beginning with Columbine in 1999, more than 187,000 students attending at least 193 primary or secondary schools have experienced a shooting on campus during school hours, according to a year-long Washington Post analysis. This means that the number of children who have been shaken by gunfire in the places they go to learn exceeds the population of Eugene, Ore., or Fort Lauderdale, Fla.

Many are never the same.

School shootings remain extremely rare, representing a tiny fraction of the gun violence epidemic that, on average, leaves a child bleeding or dead every hour in the United States. While few of those incidents happen on campuses, the ones that do have spread fear across the country, changing the culture of education and how kids grow up.

Every day, threats send classrooms into lockdowns that can frighten students, even when they turn out to be false alarms. Thousands of schools conduct active-shooter drills in which kids as young as 4 hide in darkened closets and bathrooms from imaginary murderers.

“It’s no longer the default that going to school is going to make you feel safe,” said Bruce D. Perry, a psychiatrist and one of the country’s leading experts on childhood trauma. “Even kids who come from middle-class and upper-middle-class communities literally don’t feel safe in schools.”

Samantha Haviland understands the waves of fear created by the attacks as well as anyone.

At 16, she survived the carnage at Columbine High, a seminal moment in the evolution of modern school shootings. Now 35, she is the director of counseling for Denver’s public school system and has spent almost her entire professional life treating traumatized kids. Yet, she’s never fully escaped the effects of what happened to her on that morning in Littleton, Colo. The nightmares, always of being chased, lingered for years. Even now, the images of children walking out of schools with their hands up is too much for her to bear.

On Saturday, some of Haviland’s students, born in the years after Columbine, will participate in the Denver “March For Our Lives” to protest school gun violence. In Washington, students from Parkland, Fla.--still grieving the friends and classmates they lost last month--will lead a rally of as many as 500,000 people in the nation’s capital.

“They were born and raised in a society where mass shootings are a thing,” she said, recalling how much her community and schoolmates blamed themselves for the inexplicable attack by Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. “These students are saying, ‘No, no--these things are happening because you all can’t figure it out.’ They’re angry, and I think that anger is appropriate. And I hope they don’t let us get away with it.”

In analyzing school shootings, The Post found an average of 10 school shootings per year since Columbine, with a low of five in 2002 and a high of 15 in 2014. Less than three months into 2018, there have been 11 shootings, already making this year among the worst on record.

At least 129 kids, educators, staff and family members have been killed in assaults during school hours, and another 255 have been injured.

Schools in at least 36 states and the District have experienced a shooting, according to The Post’s count. They happen in big cities and small towns, in affluent suburbs and rural communities. The precise circumstances in each incident differed, but what all of them had in common was the profound damage they left behind.

Javon Davies, a sixth-grader at a Birmingham middle school, came home and told his mom, Mariama, that he and his classmates had spent the day in lockdown.

Javon, who is 12, had heard about Parkland. He and a friend suspected that they, too, might die at their school, so each of the boys wrote a will.

“Mom,” the other sixth-grader wrote in print letters, “I want to give my friend Javon every thing that I own that includes the xbox and games and controllers and all that comes with it.”

In Javon’s instructions, he listed his PlayStation 4, his Xbox 360 and his dirt bike.

“I love you my whole Family you mean the most to me,” he wrote. “You gave me the clothes on my back, you fed me, and you were always by my side.”

On the morning of May 15, 2017, Gage Meche, then 7, walked into his first-grade class and hung up his blue Nike backpack, then turned around. On the floor in front of him was a gun. It had just fallen out of another boy’s bag, and when a girl Gage had known since they were toddlers picked it up, the pistol fired, discharging a .380 round that blew through his stomach, tearing into his intestines and nicking a vena cava vein, which carries blood to the heart.

The boy who’d brought the gun had found it at home, investigators say. His father, Michael Dugas, had given the weapon to his older son, who was 17. The teenager kept it in his room, loaded, unlocked and inside a bag that hung on the wall.

Soon after the shooting, Dugas was charged with two misdemeanors, eventually receiving six months in prison for his negligence.

Gage, meanwhile, endured four surgeries then had to learn to walk and eat again. Now 8, his 40-pound body hurts almost all the time, said his mother, Krista LeBleu.

The girl who accidentally shot him still struggles with guilt and post-traumatic stress. At a church camp last summer, a water-pistol fight broke out, and when she saw the plastic guns, the girl began to weep.

Gage has changed, too, his mother said. He had been so excited to flip the coin before a local football game a few months ago, but when the team rushed onto the field, someone fired a cannon. The boy’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the grass, trembling as he curled into a ball. He still has nightmares, but he tells his parents they’re too scary to talk about. Gage is also more aggressive than before, sometimes erupting for no reason. Afterward, he can’t explain what happened.

“I don’t know why I’m so bad,” he says.

What remains for school shooting survivors? Grief, guilt and fear.

One day in 2008, Samantha Haviland sat on the floor of a school library’s back room, the lights off, the door locked. Crouched all around her were teenagers, pretending that someone with a gun was trying to murder them.

No one there knew that Haviland, then a counselor in her mid-20s, had been at Columbine nine years earlier. On that day, April 20, 1999, she had been in the cafeteria, selling chips and soda from a food cart to raise money for the golf team. Haviland, always an overachiever, had taken second place at a tournament the day before and felt so good about it that she’d worn a blue dress and high-heeled clogs to school. As hundreds of kids ate their lunches, she and three friends talked about prom, which they’d gone to the previous weekend.

Then two girls burst into the room. Someone had been shot, they screamed. Someone had a gun.

Haviland froze, but her friends grabbed her, and they fled into the back of an auditorium. Moments later, she heard four or five shots and an explosion. Everyone sprinted out as Haviland briefly paused to take off her shoes. Barefoot, she ran after them and into the hallway, and just as she reached one door, it closed in front of her. A teacher in another part of the building had pulled the fire alarm and, as she would later learn, it saved her life, because down that corridor, Harris and Klebold were slaughtering anyone they could find.

Afterward, as the shock and grief solidified her plan to become a counselor, Haviland didn’t get counseling herself. She didn’t deserve it, she thought, not when classmates had died or been maimed. Many others had suffered far more, Haviland decided. She would be okay.

But now there she was, a decade later, sitting in the darkness, practicing once again to escape what so many of her friends did not. Then she heard footsteps. Then, beneath the door, she saw the shadow of an administrator who was checking the locks. Then her chest began to throb, and her body began to quake and, suddenly, Haviland knew she wouldn’t be okay.

Researchers who study trauma still aren’t certain why people who experience it as children react in such different ways. For some, it doesn’t surface for years, making the effects harder to trace back to their origin. For others, the torment overwhelms them from the start and, in many cases, never lets go.

Karson Robinson was 6 when a teenager opened fire on the playground of his elementary school in Townville, S.C., on Sept. 28, 2016. Three days later, on his seventh birthday, he learned that his beloved friend, Jacob Hall, hadn’t survived the bullet that hit him. That’s when the guilt took hold. Karson had leaped a fence and run at the first sound of the gunfire.

Maybe, Karson thought, he could have saved Jacob, the smallest child in their class, if he hadn’t fled. At home, Karson began to explode in anger, breaking anything he could reach. Other times, he insisted that everyone hated him.

In October, before a doctor finally diagnosed the boy with PTSD, he had a party for his eighth birthday, and at the end, they released balloons into the sky for Jacob. Afterward, he walked off by himself. His mother followed, asking what was wrong.

“I should have waited for Jacob,” he told her.

Haviland thinks a lot about the thousands of children like Karson who, she contends, America has done so little to protect since Columbine. Many of Haviland’s former classmates have found success and happiness, but others have tried to ease their pain with drugs and alcohol. Some have considered killing themselves.

One high school friend sent Haviland a message online a few weeks ago, saying that, since the Las Vegas slaughter this past October, she’d been so stricken with anxiety she could barely leave her house.

A decade ago, after Haviland’s panic attack in the library, she finally got therapy and has come a long way since. She goes to movies and malls and political rallies. She has so often told her story--of hearing the shots, taking off her shoes, sprinting barefoot through the hallways--that telling it again doesn’t wreck her anymore.

She knows, though, that the trauma remains.

Three years ago, someone accidentally pressed a panic button in the school where she was working, signaling to police that a shooter was in the building. Haviland wasn’t there at the time, but she pulled up in her car just as the officers did. Then, in front of her, she saw students streaming outside, their hands in the air.

She began to sob.