#i had emotions about him reading cosmos and then i noticed them reading it

[cyberrose2001]

Girl, I have a good one for you. If you recall the episode s2 ep21 in TFP when Prime got the Starsaber destroyed. He had a bit of an attitude at the end. Sure, everyone could understand why, but it makes you curious.

Place a f!human reader, supposely close to him. She cannot stand him acting this way and basically yells and bitches at him. In the end, he argues back which frighten her since she hasn't seen him mad. She runs only for him to come and apologize leading to confession and a nice NSFW!!

Consequences

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

I'm so sorry that this took waaay longer than intended, my word doc glitched and didn't save half of it so I had to rewrite the rest from memory :(

Either way, Medli, your requests are always so delicious to write, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral sex.

Word count: 2531

You can't stand him being like this, cold and distant. Optimus had just returned from retrieving the first set of the precious Omega keys that supposedly would revive Cybertron, but only with great sacrifice.

It was bad enough that Optimus thought he had lost another team member at the hands of Megatron, our rookie who tends to bite off more than he can chew. He hid his emotions well, but at that point, you could tell in his optics that he was about to snap. A force that you were sure would send shockwaves throughout the team and across the cosmos.

You knew that impact was evident when you watched Optimus walk through the ground bridge with a shattered Star Saber. A powerful weapon forged by the Primes solely delivered for Optimus's use is now destroyed, broken beyond repair. You can feel his EM field in the air, instantly dampening the atmosphere in the room. It's heavy, laden with sorrow and, worst of all, silent.

He hadn't said a word to you. Not even a glance or a nod. Nothing, nada. He skipped past everyone's worried looks and made a bee-line to the base computer, where the next set of Iacon coordinates remained projected onto the screen, waiting for him to decode them. The emotions on Optimus's face were difficult to read, a mixture of despair, desolation and, most of all, focus, all colliding behind these brilliantly blue optics you've come to love and drown yourself in.

But those hardened eyes won't prevent you from giving him a stern talking-to. You've grown close with the stoic leader for the short time you've known him compared to his potential billion-year lifespan. You're not afraid to tell him to take a break or say things how it was, no matter his intellect. And right now, the Prime needs a break.

You slowly approach him from behind. Even when he is helm deep in the monitor's circuits, you are sure he can still hear you. After all, Archivists were the eyes and ears of his home planet. You give him a light tap on his pede to try and draw his attention to you.

"Hey." You call out to him. His frame is unmoving, delicate servos feverishly typing away. He hadn't seemed to notice you, or maybe he was ignoring you. You give him another firm tap of your foot, which turns into kicking.

"HEY!" You yell to him, "I know your ears work. Get your head out of the computer and stop ignoring me!"

That got his attention. His servos stopped in their tracks, but his back still faced you. He seems to be listening.

"You need to take a break. You're overworking yourself." You fold your arms, "Those coordinates can wait. You can't decode them properly while your processor fries from lack of recharge."

"I'm fine." He says bluntly, not even bothering to turn and look at you.

If there's one thing you hate more than being ignored, it's when Optimus lies through his teeth.

"Optimus, you're not fucking fine!" In frustration, you throw your hands in the air, "Don't lie to me because I know when you do. Ever since you got back, you've totally ignored everyone… your team… even me! You're being a total bitch to everyone that actually cares about you. That's not who you are. Now, it's best that you get your head out of your aft and that damn computer and get some fucking rest!"

Now that struck a chord. Optimus spins around fast, slamming a fist into the concrete floor next to you and sending debris into the air, some almost hitting your face. He crouches close to your frame, harsh ex-vents grace over your body, and whips your hair around. But you stand your ground, albeit slightly terrified at the change of Optimus's demeanour.

"I do not suppose you believe Megatron wouldn't stop at nothing to get his claws on the next Iacon relics?" He growls. He's so close to you that you can see every dent and imperfection on his faceplate, some from his most recent battle with the Decepticon tyrant, "I will NOT stop until I decode the remaining coordinates. I will not let you or anyone prevent me from doing so. So if you would be so kind…"

He looms closer to you. He's growling at you. You step back but almost trip on the rubble scattered behind you, "Leave me alone."

You're trembling because of two potential reasons. Optimus has never raised his voice or got angry at you, not even at the other bots. And the second is the ungodly amount of blood rushing to your loins. You're at his mercy under his gaze. While you are surprisingly horny, you're intimidated by the pinpoint optics burning holes in your body.

"Fine. You wanna be left alone? Then I'll leave you alone." Your own fists are clenching now. You can't look vulnerable before him, "Come find me when you're not busy making out with the computer screen."

And with your final blow, you turn on your heel and storm out of the base, ignoring the wide-eyed faces of the other bots, who had unfortunately witnessed the whole thing. You didn't care where you were running to; you just needed to get out of there and blow off some steam. Something that Optimus should be doing as well.

-

Optimus watched you run out of the base, his optics softening a fraction. While what he said about not resting until he decodes the rest of the coordinates was true, Optimus caught himself lying when he told you to leave. You were the only thing preventing him from breaking down and losing his shit. You are why he hasn't locked himself in a stasis pod and cranked the dial to ten billion years so that he doesn't have to endure a moment longer of this Primus-forsaken war.

But watching the human he loved run away from him, he realised his mistake. Optimus has just pushed away the only human tethering him to the edge of a self-hatred cliff, and he's just cut the cord.

He releases his death grip on the crumbled floor, letting the pebbles fall out of the servos. You probably hate him now. You probably don't even want to see him again, and he doesn't blame you. But the least he could do was apologise before you leave for good.

-

Your feet are starting to ache. You know you've been walking for a while when there's nothing but desert sand and the worn-down asphalt of the road to keep you company.

You hadn't meant what you said to Optimus to come out so harsh. Most of the time, when you would first tell him to recharge, he would be reluctant but would oblige. Tough love was your philosophy. But this time, your philosophy may have been a step too far today. You greatly underestimated how stressed the Prime was. That was a mistake on your part. That fact that he was grieving the potential loss of a teammate and the weapon that could win the war? It would've helped if you were more understanding and compassionate.

You should turn back; the sun was beginning to set. It looks beautiful, and you wish Optimus was here because you know he would enjoy this as much as you do.

Speak of the devil. A low rumbling noise grows louder from some distance behind you; you know it's Optimus. Most likely coming to banish you from the base for how you spoke to him.

He rolls behind you and flashes his high beam, and you stop. You can feel and hear him transform behind you, but you don't turn to look at him because you feel ashamed.

"Optimus, I'm sorry for how I spoke to you." You take a deep breath and cradle your arms to your stomach, "I… I didn't realise how troubled you are about…"

A cold servo wraps around your shoulder, sending goosebumps across your body. Optimus carefully spins you around to face him, and he oozes your exact amount of regret. His optics cast a brilliant glow across your form, and the remaining flickers of the sunset reflect off his metal, casting him in an orange hue.

"Y/n, I should be the one who apologises." His downturned dermas hurt your heart, "There was no justification for my actions. I should not have lashed out at you the way I did."

"But there was justification for it, and I was careless about your feelings." You say, bringing a hand to the servo resting on your shoulder, "I shouldn't have said those things, I realise now."

A small smile creeps into the corner of Optimus's dermas, "Perhaps not, and while I am very saddened by today's events, I do not think you realise how much your words encourage me."

"But…" You're cut off by a smooth thumb brushing over your cheek.

"I should have told you this a long time ago, but… Primus, you are the only thing in this universe holding me together." He takes a sharp intake, "I love you more than anything."

Your breath catches in your throat. Optimus, the greatest warrior to ever grace this Earth, just confessed to you. In the middle of the desert, when the temperature is dropping but you don't even feel it because the warm glow of his optics and his confession sparks a fire in your chest.

"Optimus… I do… I love you… I." You struggle to find the words—instead, you involuntary shiver.

Of course, Optimus notices and give you a slight chuckle, "It is getting cold. May you accompany me back to base?"

You nod, and instantly, he transforms into his alt mode, leaving the passenger door open for you and you make haste and climb in, and he buckles the seat belt for you. Staring out the window to witness the last of the sunset, resting your head against the window as Optimus turns his heater on for you. You sigh in contentment as he pulls onto the road and journeys home.

-

"OptiMUUS… hngh… please." You whine from the bed and tug at the restraints on your wrists, soft, breathless begging as Optimus's grip on your thighs tightens and relaxes with every swipe of his glossa.

You could say that this was a form of payback, a playful punishment from when you yelled at him earlier. Even though he had forgiven you for saying those harsh words, he told you on the way home that he still needed to "put you in your place". At the time, you had no idea what that entailed, but little did you know the method Optimus liked to 'punish' you was to edge you on the cusp of euphoria multiple times only to deny you of any orgasm.

It was torture, but you kind of deserved it.

"P-Please, fuck…" You beg, writhing your hips as Optimus drags his glossa around your folds, then circles your clit, "I can't- no more… FUCK."

It was an endless back-and-forth pattern. Optimus would lick your folds and collect your fluids on his glossa before dragging it back to your clit, circling it and increasing the pressure momentarily. And just when you were so close to cumming he would stop teasing the bundle of nerves and go back to licking strips up your pussy. You tried rocking your hips desperately to chase the high, but it was in vain as he would instantly pull away and watch as your hips writhe around to find friction.

"I do believe you are close. Am I correct to assume so?" Optimus grins, pressing light kisses to the inside of your thigh and, in turn, smearing your fluids over your soft sweaty skin.

"You asshole," You groan as he presses a firm kiss to your clit, "You know I am-aahHHH!"

Your whine cuts you off as Optimus wraps his dermas around your clit and gives you a harsh suck, and rolls it around his denta.

"I do not like your choice of words, Y/n." He growls against your clit, sending vibrations throughout your body, "I am not the 'asshole' you speak of."

The sucking at your clit sends electrical shocks through your thighs, making them shake and clench around his helm. Your hands find purchase on the berth under you, and you grip the sheet so hard you can feel it rip. You can feel him smiling against your mound as you thrust your hips into his intake, finally feeling your orgasm wash over you. It was sweet relief from a long two hours of edging, and you weren't sure how much longer you could've handled his glossa torturing you.

Optimus lifts his helm from your pussy, and you're trying so hard not to whine as you watch him lick up a string of arousal still attached to his dermas.

"F-Fuck…" You whimper, hips stuttering. The torment is finally over, you think. But you were severely wrong when you felt a cold digit rub at your folds, and he pushed it inside. You cry in overstimulation as he curls the digit, pressing against your G-Spot in a mind-numbing, relentless thrust. Similar to Megatrons antics in retrieving those Iacon relics, this bastard is stopping at nothing until he retrieves every last orgasm from your trembling body.

Optimus chuckles as you throw your head back and try to maneuver your hips away from his servos. He's enjoying watching you become an overstimulated mess, he's getting a high out of it, and it's taking all your strength not to slap him in the helm. You love him, but this is getting too much for you.

"You seem to be enjoying your punishment, hm?" Optimus smirks and strums his thumb to your already hyper-sensitive clit, "It certainly looks that way. I wonder if I can make you overload again."

You let out a string of swears as he thrusts his digit with haste, his thumb circling your clit and increasing the pressure. The wet sounds between your thighs are lewd and only add to your pleasure. The room becomes hazy and distant as you clench around his digit, and a second orgasm slams your body within the span of two minutes. Optimus lets out a guttural groan as he feels your walls clench around his digit; Primus knows what it would feel like with his throbbing spike inside you.

Optimus watches as you pant, sweat covering your entire skin. He gives a breathless laugh and leans down to kiss your soft lips, his glossa transferring some of your fluids onto your tongue. During the kiss, he groans as he slowly drags his digit out of your dripping pussy and relishes the little whine you give him.

"You're mean." You groan out against his intake. Your body is exhausted from his torment, and you're sure he can feel your muscles quivering against his plating. He innocently chuckles as if he hadn't just made a mess of you.

"I can assure you this was a one-off. No more torment, love." Optimus kisses your forehead, servos tracing circles on your thighs, "But on this occasion, you needed to know the consequences of your actions in future."

[mewpirate]

hi again. how about headcanons/thoughts/feelings about the tarantula crew? (:

Ooooh! Another post about another crew?? !! <3 I don't have a lot of headcanons for them too since I mostly focus on the rubberfishes mostly but I'll see what i can do !

Headcanons!

- Starting off miscellaneous, Thade has the most rambunctious nastiest breath due to never brushing his teeth, he doesn't even like brushing his teeth so he went like "fuck it, I'm going out like this" and the crew got so put off by it, even mary was distraught. This random guy has a decent smell from using a bunch of colorful perfumes he stole because they looked pretty but. the most awful stench coming from his mouth when he speaks or yawns. Basically like a cat.

Yea I actually have no idea why the fuck i have that, I just thought the cat coded thade headcanon was cool so I gotta make him more accurately cat-like.

- I don't like the idea of Auburn being the possibly(?) bio daughter of Lillian and Thade (why are the genes so different) so I basically headcanon her to be a abandoned baby at birth and the crew took her in cause they felt bad.

- wanna know what's funny? I headcanon Boar as an ACTUAL WILD BOAR. FURRYFYING EVERYONE BABYYY!!!!

- I already said this on another post but I'll say it again, I think of Auburn as a hippie goth , it fits her Earth magic and peaceful vibe.

- another thing related to that is I legit headcanon Lillian as a whimsical goth, and Thade a Trad goth. Whole goth family here.

- OOOO I also based Lillian off Tia Dalma from pirates of the Caribbean <<3

- I love the whole "Skin-taker still has a trait in his past life" troupe so I'll add one . Thade can remember and name every species of bird and flowers, ( I said the bird one before but I'll say it again) he likes how colorful and bright they are compared to the birds in the abyssal kingdom. He especially liked how each of the flowers hold a symbolic meaning whether it be double or single. When he first went outside the abyssal kingdom, he noticed a few rare species of birds that had a melancholic tune , which isn't the case for Abyssal birds since their voices tend to be gravel -like and noisy. He absolutely adored them!! He even collects bird feathers!!

- I headcanon Mort as a vampire bat who has morbid curiosity, I'm making a completely different version from him from the wiki cause wiki mort is eugh 🤢

-Thade's voice headcanon is Lilac cookie from crk (i wanna find a voice headcanon that sounds like a warm , friendly but monotone vibe? Idrk)

- Thade actually doesn't show much emotion, and most people view him to be a cold , unbothered person , when in reality it's literally just his resting face . He's very excitable but doesn't show it much.

- I view Red Mary's personality as similar to Cosmos from the MLP comics. (I highly recommend reading the books about her she's seriously a really good villain) She and Thade have a discord and cosmos dynamic where he is completely scared of her. He still is.

Thoughts

I really like the crew!!! They're such coolios . They look like they would get into a lot of shenanigans together!

Feelings

Idk personal opinion but I wish Lillian and Auburn weren't so stale , I really like they're characters but idk the writing is a bit meh. I don't like how mort is made. That's all.

[renaultphile]

Chapter ten - when Laurie’s emotional landscape starts to shift

I found it quite a hard read this time round, but also it seems to be full of little echoes, contrasts and foreshadowing which I hadn’t noticed before.  What do you think?  I’ve numbered them so you can pick one to shout about or ask me to elaborate.

His emotions refracted from his own concerns focused in an intense point of compassion like the centre of a burning-glass.

Now it gave Laurie the feeling one can have with a dying dog, that one is being trusted like god and is going to fail. 👀👀👀

He had looked into his face and made this appeal to him alone.

Andrew looked at his face, and after a second or two said slowly, "You've heard something, haven't you? You've got your discharge, you're going away."

If I tell him you're a priest it will be all right (OK thinking of a certain person imitating another certain person…..)

“Just so he can go feeling it's all right."

"It's my responsibility, suppose anyone's chalking it up."

"It's a responsibility neither of us has any right whatever to take."

He was distinct and separate and far away, and strikingly good-looking.

For a moment, this putting him in his place seemed to Laurie the last affront.

"This thing works after all." (oxygen cylinder)

He went to the medicine trolley and poured himself a stiff dose of APC

Laurie had never met him in the kitchen quite so late.

He hadn't realised how Andrew's certainties, including those he didn't believe himself to share, had knit themselves into his cosmos.

"I've never known this place without you,"

It's because of Cynthia, I know." (Andrew of Dave)

"Things I'd feel a fool saying to anyone else in the world -- I don't always tell you, one doesn't of course, but I always feel I could and you'd know what they meant better than I do."

"You oughtn't to think of me as a person whose head has to be stuck in a bag”

"It makes me feel, in a way, jealous, without knowing what of."

He leaned over and kissed him. Even when he had done it he felt no reaction or self-reproach. It was as if it had happened before and they both remembered.

[lokisprettygirl]

What was your favorite part about gotg 3?

Everything

No but seriously..spoilers ahead so I hope people have the tags blocked, but if not I'll just discuss it under read more thingy

The whole rocket's origin story and how he lost his friends is still making me bawl just thinking about it. The worst part is that's what happens in the world, animals are abused and experimented on cruelly and they showcased it amazingly. This was completely rocket's movie and it's amazing how a racoon was able to carry this whole movie on his shoulder

Rocket finding out that he is indeed a racoon (my heart), him accepting himself as a racoon finally was heartwarming to see

When lylla dies, rockets scream is very haunting (kudos to Bradley Cooper for evoking such intense emotions with just his voice) , it reminded me of Thor's scream when loki died

The way Peter's depression and alcoholism was treated was one of the best parts about the movie, noticed how they didn't act as if it was something to joke about? (Cough : endgame Thor) his friends were worried sick about him and wanted to just help him through this instead of making jokes about his depression.

Cosmo the dog (enough said)

Yondu's cameo made me tear up and him helping kraglin to finally control the arrow.

Nebula's character arc was beautiful, she has suffered so much and she started as a villain but look at her and it didn't happen overnight, it took years but I'm happy about the sendoff she got.

Groot my beloved is just the best isn't he, the scene with him and Peter fighting the high revolutionary made the whole theater scream and I was the loudest.

Drax and mantis, i just love their camaraderie

Last but not the least the villain in the movie is going to be the most hated villain and I'm glad he just died because that evil scum deserves no redemption. He had no emotions, not one. The actor did such a good job.

I'm going to miss them together, gotg is my favourite franchise of all so it's really bittersweet.

[taintedcrimson]

Okay, but can we talk about this book? Because I am having a LOT of emotions about Carl Sagan's Cosmos and what it means to this group of people.

FitzSimmons read this book to Alya while she was in the womb. They had a shiny new copy and were excited to impart a love of science to their daughter before she was even born. How many times must they have continued to read it to her over the years?

Apparently, quite a few...

Look at the wear on the dust jacket. It's the same book, gifted to a new friend, either so he can finally understand some of what the scientists from the future are talking about while they venture into deep space... or so he can understand what Alya is talking about and include in his letters explanations of the amazing things he encounters with the Astro Ambassadors. Really, it's probably both. And Daisy absolutely teases him about it.

So yeah, I'm having just a few emotions about a science book I have never read but will now immediately be doing so. For reasons. Totally not fanfic-related. Ahem.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Junes are for reflection - 11th Doctor x reader

<reuploaded from AO3>

Genre: fluff/angst; comfort fic Warnings: mentions of suicide, self-harm, psychological/religious/emotional abuse

Summary: Between thrilling adventures, you ask the Doctor to have a moment of stargazing. While watching a nebula that no other human eyes have seen, you open up about your secret, with Doctor holding your hand through the tears.

Author's note: This story contains description and/or implication of self-harm, emotional and religious abuse, and suicide. Please stay safe and do not read if one or more of those themes might trigger you. If you experience abuse, suicidal ideation, self-hate or self-harm, please seek professional help. There is so much more awaiting you than death and pain.

”Where to now? Your choice.” the Doctor was visibly excited.

”Can I...have a boring request?” You asked hesitantly.

”I’d much rather if you didn’t.” You knew he preferred a more exciting, thrilling pace of action.

”The thing is...we go around the universe saving everyone, well, you save everyone I just follow suit and pretend I’m brave, but that’s not the point. We go around galaxies, running basically, and we, or more like I, never really got a chance to just, you know, stop by and admire." You tangled your words. You were avoiding Doctor’s gaze in fear he’ll laugh at you. Honestly, who would prefer sitting down in silence over running from aliens and discovering parts of the universe no human eye has ever seen?

”Alright, admiring” He clasped his hands and looked at you. ”Any particular view in mind?”

”Oh, I’m not sure...a nebula? A galaxy? You know outer space better than I do.”

”A surprise it is.”

The TARDIS yanked them both, rattled, swung and abruptly stopped.

”Y/N” he began in a comically official tone. ”The Pegasus Nebula” he opened the door to show what was waiting outside.

And it was marvelous. Clouds of purple, orange and green formed a beautiful cascade among bright stars. If one tilted their head just enough, it did look a bit like a pegasus, with wings stretching out across unnamed stars.

You hesitantly sat at the edge of the TARDIS and looked at the wonder in front of you in silence. It was hard to believe it was all real. The Doctor, a bit unsure, sat next to you. Your thighs were almost touching.

”When I was a little girl,” you began. ”I had a children’s book about cosmos. Read it back and forth thousands of times.” you chuckled. “It was all so beautiful and enigmatic. Every time I read it, I imagined myself going on adventures across space as an astronaut.”

”How do you like the real thing?” He studied your face. An astronaut?, a thought ran through his mind.

”It’s...quiet. And calm. We could sit here for days and no one would care, no one would notice. The nebula would be perfectly still before our eyes.” you spared him a glance. ”I find it comforting. Some of those stars don’t even exist anymore. The others are giant burning gas orbs that look tiny from here. If they look tiny, how small are we? You wouldn’t notice if one or two stars stopped shining overnight. And just like that, the world won’t notice if I’m gone.” you said in a somber tone. ”Or if I mess up. The planets will spin and supernovas will explode. Our existence is just so...unimportant. It’s comforting.” you looked at the Doctor and noticed his puzzled expression.

He looked at you too.

”You have to be the strangest person I’ve ever traveled with, and you have some good competition.” his tone was friendly, he didn’t mean it as an offense. A hint of laughter hid in his voice.

A sad smile crept onto your face.

”Something’s more on your mind.” he noticed.

”It’s just...it’s June,” you answered. Your eyes darted away from the Doctor in anxiety. As if something difficult and unforeseen was approaching the stargazers. ”And June is, sort of, special for me. It’s going to sound silly but June is a month for me to take a step back, reflect and take a really deep breath.”

”Is it because the school ends? No, the summer starts?”

”No.” you smiled reassuringly at him and looked again at the nebula.

A deep sigh.

”It’s like an anniversary. In Junes I try to celebrate my life, because one June I tried to end it.” you said the last bit quietly, your voice barely audible in the silence of the universe.

And a silence fell between you too.

”Why?” He asked in a tender voice. Both of them were anxious, thinking about their words like a sapper who carefully thinks about his next move, with beads of sweat on his brow.

”I never felt like I fit in here. This world, I mean. I always felt like there has to be something more, something beyond daily life. It always felt like I’m waiting, waiting for something extraordinary to happen, to set my life in motion, to give me meaning. You see, Doctor, I’m not really passionate about anything. I also don’t have any remarkable talents. I’m not an interesting person in general...And I hardly ever felt loved at home. My brother was the good kid, always scoring high, really intelligent and religious. I was called rude, lazy, ungrateful, oversensitive, selfish...and once my mom wanted to call an exorcist on me because we disagreed.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat but its place was quickly taken over again by melancholy. ”My parents told me they wish they belted me harder when I was younger. I hated myself like no one else could.” you looked at him shyly, eyes watering.

”I used to cut myself as a punishment and a relief. It was addictive. Then I realized it’s not enough. If I was such a bad person with no real passion or talent, if I was such a burden...wouldn’t my redemption be relieving people of it? Of me?” A single tear rolled down your cheek and you quickly brushed it away in a hasty manner. ”When you’re so hopeless and lonely your chest starts to hurt, death seems like mercy.”

Doctor was at a loss. There was so much he wanted to say but the words just wouldn’t leave his throat. Right there, on the edge of the universe, he couldn’t afford to say anything other than the right words. He would never forgive himself if he did otherwise.

”You know, there’s a question I’ve been asking myself all this time and you, Doctor, might give me the most comforting answer, although its validity might be dubious.” You looked at Doctor with teary eyes. His hearts were breaking. ”You have to answer honestly, alright?” Your voice broke. The next few words you spoke so softly and quietly, as if afraid the eavesdropping stars might hear you: ”Am I a bad person?” Tears rolled down your cheek.

Doctor’s expression softened. A melancholic grin crept onto his lips. Your tears were wiped by his watch-wearing hand.

”Y/N...Y/N, Y/N'' he repeated quietly. ”Your name means wisdom in Raspharic and yet here you are, asking a silly question to a silly old man.” he held your hand. ”My brave Y/N'' his voice was distant as if he relived a memory. ”It’s rude to even ask that question. From the very moment, we met you can’t stop surprising me. There is hope and kindness overflowing in you, a gentle yet strong heart. You read people like they’re bullet point notes, everything about them seems so obvious to you. Y/N, you believe that every monster out there has a reason to do bad things, that none of them are just born that way. The way you defended those refugees, with so much...grace and bravery. You are the reason so many creatures are hopeful again. There is no monster that you couldn’t understand or love. You are brilliant, Y/N. And yet there are so many things about you I still don’t know.”

[fandomscombine]

Heartbreak Woman [Cho/Cedric Ending]

Warning: Angst! Brokenhearted!Reader

WC:1454

I proposed 3 varying endings and the response was across the board so I decided why the heck not write ALL 3 choices!

a/n: I haven't been active on tumblr this past month. Motivation to read & write wasn't really there. Feelin pretty crap. I don't think it's my best work- I actually wrote this ending last month but delay posting it since I promised to post all 3 endings back to back- but with the recent burnout, my progress is slow. Proofread it and push the insecurities & anxieties away and here we are. Love was put into this, I hope you enjoy it! Don't worry, the other 2 endings are on the way.

I tried posting this 9 times now and it keeps saying error. this is me testing it with mobile so formatting is hard but I hope it posts

BG: You were hoping that your best friend, Cedric to ask you to the Yule Ball. Instead you were roped into helping him ask Cho out. It broke your heart, but at least this way while helping him out you could pretend that he was doing all the sweet things to you. On the other side of the picture, Harry was too heartbroken upon learning that Cho is going out with Cedric.

Read the main story before it diverges ending here!

>>>Heartbreak Woman [Main]

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

 

Did Harry Potter really just ask you out and you said yes?

Touching your forehead, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but there is still a slight sting to it from the collision with Harry’s broom. Yes. That definitely happened. You thought to yourself, this isn’t some delusion from the injury.

 This is good. This is good. Hyping yourself up. You enjoy his company and that should be enough to stop your thoughts from going about a certain Hufflepuff boy. The same boy you had abruptly left alone in the greens. It’s not his fault nor it is Cho’s for wanting to date each other. You have nothing against them, they are both such lovely and kind people and not to mention popular- it was only a matter of time that they got together, Hogwarts’ Power Couple.

No, it’s just you and your stupid feelings falling for your best friend and agreeing to help with the courtship.

‘Y/n? Hii.” The voice reels you back to reality.

You blinked. “Cho! Hi!” Greeting her loudly had been taken by surprise. You dial down your volume. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s actually what you did, really… I just wanted to say thank you.”

You were confused, why was she thanking you?

“For helping Cedric I mean” She clarified. “He mentioned that you helped him with the picnic idea. It was very sweet. It was what made me finally say yes.”

“That’s awesome.” You force yourself to smile. “I’m glad you guys are together, I can finally get that git to stop bothering me with date ideas. That’s 3 weeks of my life I’m not getting back!” There was some truth to that statement, now that she and Cedric are together you don’t have to go through the pain of practice dates with Cedric.

“You y/n are the absolute wingwoman! Legend material!” Cho praised. “You're like my fairy godmother!” She continues, wrapping you into an embrace.

“yayyyy….That’s me…” You mumble into her luscious hair. Grateful that Cho couldn’t see your face.  Pulling apart, you don’t let her go quite yet. With hands on her shoulder, you stare unwavering. “Just don’t break his heart yea? He’s really smitten by you, promise you won’t hurt him.”

Cho is taken aback a bit, your words clearly coming from a strong emotional bond with the boy.  Thoughts of love, Eros, passed through her mind but brushed it away - It can’t be y/n help them get together. Y/n’s words must come from Philia love, y/n and Cedric had been best friends since before they could talk! Everyone knows that. They have a soul connection that can’t be replicated.  “I promise.”

~

14th February.

Valentine’s Day.

This holiday sucks.

No, not for the reason that you’re single. Nah.

Today is a downer as you won’t be able to do your annual tradition.

See every since 3rd year you and Cedric would be in a pink ensemble outfit complete with red heart sunglasses. Spreading chants of self love and showering fellow single students and professors with compliments. This all started out when your roommates teased you for not having a date for Valentine’s day.  When Cedric had heard about it, he went all out. The boy basically made sure that every single person knew how wonderful, beautiful and intelligent you are.

It was this day onwards that 2 things happened.

Complementing and advocating for self love, Philautia, in a pink get up became an annual Valentine’s tradition. (Even a couple of students joined the cause, expanding from you just both into an association/group of sorts.)

 You started to see Cedric in a new light. In other words, you were falling in love with your best friend.

Scanning the Great Hall for pink cladded pupils, you were glad that the group had saved you a seat however a certain Hufflepuff was out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you cleared your head. Get it together y/n. Today is about sharing love and do NOT think about Cedric and Cho going on a romantic date in Hogsmeade.

You were about to take a step forward when-

“Argh!” Shutting your eyes as the hall spun around.

“Relaxx!! Relax! It’s just me.”

Feet back on solid ground, you turned towards the perpetrator, the one boy you did not want to see right now. “What the fuck Ced! Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry…” Cedric raises his arms in surrender. “Is everything alright?”

“Yea everything’s fine.”

Cedric raises a brow. You forget that this boy can see through your bullshit.

“Only had a couple hours of sleep, that’s all.” It wasn’t a lie, in fact you’d only gotten 3 hours of rest last night, it was just the case of omitting that his upcoming date with Cho was the reason for your restlessness. You don’t want to blame it on jealousy, but it is.

Grabbing hold of your hand, he pulls you towards the group. "Alright then, I've got some spare sleeping potion if you need."

You wave to your fellow singles as you sit down."uh..thanks Ced." You couldn't stop vocalizing your confusion as to why Cedric is still right next to you. Normally you wouldn't complain, but today was Valentine's Day.

"Ouch y/n!" Cedric sassed, eyes focused on piling food onto his plate." Just because I have a girlfriend now doesn't mean I would disappear on my best girl."

My best girl. It hurts to be called that in another context than you wanted.

"Don't you have a date with Cho today?"

"Yea but Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop  doesn't open until 11am. Which gives me time for our annual Valentine's tradition!"

"But you're taken."

"Yes….but I could still help spreading the love!" Cedric glanced around. "No one minds that I come to join you right?"

A murmur of Nos filled your eyes.

"Haha! See I told you!" Cedric brags, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Looks at you straight in the eyes, those gorgeous grey irises melting away your defenses."You can't get rid of me that easily." He whispers, loud enough only for you to hear. You could feel the heat filling up your face due to his closeness. Too busy lost in the rapid beats of your heart, you failed to notice his face getting even closer.

A softness like cotton grazes your cheek.

Cedric kissed you!

Your mind is close to being short circuited. The area of where Cedric's lips were a nanosecond ago is cold as ice. The cold contrasted with your now burning hot, blushing face.

You could live in this forever. All external environments quiet, blocked out of focus. Cedric's arms around you while the butterflies in your stomach bursts out, occupying your whole body with sheer giddiness from having his lips on you.

But the daydream breaks.

"Hey Love! You ready?"

"Morning!" He greets, kissing her. "Uh…" It's only 9:34am. You nod, silently telling him that it was okay to miss your annual tradition. You weren't expecting any quality time today, yet he managed even if it was just for breakfast. "Yea.. give me 10 minutes to go change and I'll pick you up at the courtyard?"

"Sounds great. Be quick cause I miss you already!"

"Sure will sweetheart." He pecks her lips again then waves goodbye to the table and he's off, running.

The tension changes once Cedric is gone.

"Can I talk to you outside y/n?"

"uh yeah" Once outside. "What's up?" Trying to sound casual. Cho inviting you to speak privately isn't usual-seeing that you were the couple's go to accomplice for surprises.

"I see the way you look at him."

"I'm sorry?"

"I know.you like him. y/n. I know you like Cedric."

"Cho.. you can't be serious, he's my best friend!"

"I wasn't sure then.but just now..the way you act around him. the way you look at him. y/n is undeniable. It’s  so obvious-I had assumptions then but everyone just brushes it off as your childhood friend with each other. heck even both of you say that."

"Cho…."

"I didn't bring this up before because I felt insecure, jealous even that I can't live up to the standard of relationship you and Cedric have.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There were too many revelations bombarding you all at once, that you are having trouble processing what is going on.

“But I am tired of what ifs and worrying.” Voice quivering, she continues. “You've got to tell him, y/n."

The words snap you back into place.

"Cho… I can't. I can't ruin your relationship."

If you love someone and they love someone else, you let them go.

~

Everything Taglist :@gruffle1

HP Taglist:@onlyfreds

Heartbreak woman Tagist:

@joalinbenefits @the-natureofme @romanoffs-heart @justmesadgirl @plumso @gleefulleve @wolf-phoenix-lover @ceofcedric @savvy7392 @cedricsfluffyhair @thewayilookatbacon @LIONLIKEWOLFLIKE @mellifluous-cosmos

[illuzoldycks]

* / - 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Chrollo says goodbye but he wishes he take it back.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Angst to fluff, kind of angst at least. 

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Chrollo Lucilfer x GN!Reader

𝐀/𝐍: One day I’ll write for someone else besides Chrollo but for now I’m thinking of opening my requests up! So send anything in as long as it follows the rules!

Small ice spheres swirled in the light caramel color of the whiskey; frosty glass pressed against Chrollo’s palm. The whiskey went down smooth. Normally he’d ask how long the whiskey aged in the barrel, if the barrel was oak or cedar, but today he’s silent. Black hair hanging in front of his eyes, greyish brown eyes downcast into the glass. He can’t remember a time where a room felt so silent, despite the soft piano music of the elegant hotel bar filling the luxurious space.

There are things he didn’t realize he’d miss if he ever said goodbye to you. Chrollo isn’t stupid. He knew there would be moments where he’d reminisce. How you’d tend to something he didn’t think to tend to or how he’d wake up to a cup of black coffee steaming in his favorite sets of mugs; only needing sugar to be spooled into the cup. Chrollo didn’t think he’d miss the comfort of your voice, or the warmth of your hand wrapped delicately around his wrist. As if touching him was something you’d have to tiptoe into, hesitation in the twitches of your fingertips against his skin. He didn’t think he’d miss your indecisiveness as you flip through the cocktail menu. Chrollo never understood why you had the hardest time choosing a cocktail; they’re all too sweet with a fruit flavor entangled in the alcohol. Chrollo didn’t think he’d miss everything about you.

Saying goodbye turned out to be more problematic than he figured, but you reached your expiration date. Your usefulness is fulfilled to the troupe, you’ve found the crown embedded with rare jewels he sought. Unlike his previous quests, he didn’t feel satisfaction. Chrollo saw the small sad smile on your lips, you knew the goodbye was coming but what was Chrollo supposed to do?

Love isn’t something he’s ever been an expert at. Flings come and go, meaningless affairs, people he could never recall the name of. He’d remember them by a feature, a trait, something they said, something they provided him. He’s lied awake at night in the abandoned places he brings the troupe to. Staring at the ceiling in numbing silence in a cold cot, wondering if he could ever provide that love he’s read in so many books. A love that makes his chest ache when he reads it, whimsical, caring, compassionate, sickeningly sweet, but a safety net to be vulnerable.

Vulnerability is something he could never achieve. In his defense, he always reaches for it. His life didn’t leave him much room for that vulnerability. The net to feel comfortable, to finally let someone else help him carry and get over the baggage that burdens the weight on his shoulders and mind. Chrollo couldn’t even lift the veil of understanding himself to hand the baggage off to someone else. His personality, his childhood, his way of life. He sees it all like broken glass that makes a mirror. The only thing he has formed against the mirror, glued against the back panel of the wood, is a small sliver of glass that lets him see the cross tattoo on his forehead. The symbolism of who he is now.

A thief searching to fill the voids he couldn’t place back into the mirror pane to look at himself. He doesn’t know who he is. How could he know how to love? Would love from you help him discover who he is? Is it worth putting you through that? Chrollo sighs, thinking back to the sapphire encrusted crown, smoky quartz with clear crystals sparkling in between in rose gold wireframing. Is the crown worth losing you? A crown didn’t bring him the joy you brought, but would destroying you make him feel whole?

He only showed you the side of him he showed to everyone. Charismatic, charming, intelligent, apathetic, and easy-going. He’s sure you could see through him, you could always read his mood drops when others wouldn’t bat an eye. You allowed him to confide in you about why he even did all of this, but he didn’t indulge you he does this to fill a void. Just mentioned when he bothers to learn about himself, he’ll have all his answers. He’ll never forget your hand pressing over his heart, as you whispered he knows who he is, he just has to get in touch with himself. Maybe being with you wouldn’t destroy you, he thinks as he swirls the whiskey, maybe you already knew what you’d be getting into.

Whiskey brain takes over as he thinks about leaving here to find you. They hadn’t left the city; the members wanted one last night to celebrate. He already said goodbye, he’s sure he already broke your heart upon leaving. If your feelings are as mutual as his are for you, he’s sure you feel the same numbing ache in the pain of his chest. Longing, loneliness, desire, a need to be around someone, but the other half is missing. Chrollo is the greatest thief of all time, and he couldn’t even figure out how to ask you to join him by his side. Or find you. If you wanted to be found, that is.

“I’ll take a cosmopolitan and get him a whiskey on the rocks,” a familiar voice lifted him from his thoughts.

It was you sitting beside him, not looking his way as you wiped the rain off your coat. Chrollo noticed you had just come in, by the heave of your chest you had sat down, you didn’t take your time choosing your drink. Silence came over you both as the bartender sat the two drinks on the mahogany bar, waiting for him to walk away before Chrollo cleared his throat.

“What made you choose a cosmopolitan?” He starts, eyes looking over at you.

Fingers holding the stem of the tall crystal martini glass, your eyes not looking at him as you swirled the contents of the glass to mix the juice and vodka. Your shoulders slumped into a shrug.

“You’ve told me a few times to order a cosmo, and I never listened,” he’s fortunate your voice is as light in tone as his own is.

There’s an edge to both of your voices, lingering in one another’s eyes like there’s something unsaid. Chrollo has to be the one to break the ice, but not even liquid courage could break through him. He feels frozen, the ice in his glass and he could have something in common besides drowning. Frozen and drowning, too cowardly to speak up, drowning in emotions that are all fighting against him and his better wishes.

“Pakunoda told me you didn’t go out celebrating, if you were curious,” you say softly, lips around the rim of the crystal glass, “she told me you stayed at the bar. I thought I could stop by for one last drink before you left,” a sadness cloaks your tone.

“I’d hate for this to be our last drink,” Chrollo admits, the glass set against the bar for the first time that night, and finally, your eyes meet his own.

“Why did you say goodbye then?” A valid question, no less, but he wasn’t sure if he could give an answer you’d be satisfied with. Or understand.

“I’m not sure I’d be able to give you what you desire. I don’t think I know myself and I’m not in tune with being vulnerable but,” he lets out a faint sigh, turning to face you, “For you, I’d be willing to try, and I’d hate to say goodbye.”

A smile graces your features. A smile he didn’t realize he missed so dearly until he saw it just now. Brighter than any star in the night, brighter than the sky in the peak of its shine, your smile could outrival them all.

“In that case, I think I can stay by your side,” Chrollo smiles, turning back to his drink.

“We leave tomorrow then,” he mumbles, lips pressed to the glass.

“Can’t wait,” you whisper, smile wider than before.

[esperanta-dragon]

I feel like there is a need to write down why so many people hate Sylvanas so much, me included. Maybe you can’t stand her too OR you love her and you don’t understand why the hell people can hate such an amazing character. Here is why. And I will try to write this down logically as possible. No “hur dur I hate her because she is a bitch!”. No, I will put down all things so you can understand. And one sad disclaimer... it’s not the character’s fault.

WHY WE STARTED TO LOVE HER

Sylvanas showed up in Warcraft III as a Ranger General of Quel’thalas. She was protecting her country for quite some time when Arthas attacked Eversong Woods in order to get to Sunwell and resurrect Kel’Thuzad as a lich. Sylvanas paid with her life and her soul to protect her people and her country. She was made banshee and was forced to do things against her will and serve the Scourge she hated. But she was still plotting her revenge, didn’t give up until the moment came and she took the chance. She reclaimed her body back and almost killed Arthas, and took over Lordaeron City. Then she took over the undead slowly freeing from the Lich King’s grasp and gave them a place where to stay, becoming their Queen. And since then, she was planning to kill the Lich King for good.

That’s why we loved her (I never did, I will explain that later why). She really kicked his ass. She slapped the Scourge in the face. She never gave up and was doing everything to achieve her goals, her revenge. There are not so many such strong female characters, so resolute. She was not good but also not evil, she was shady, she was not the boring good guy. So why the hell people hate her? She is perfect! Let’s go to what happened during and after WotLK... Because here it starts.

WRATH OF THE LICH KING

As I said, many people adore Sylvanas since Warcraft III. But they don’t understand the character is not the same. She was never good, she was an anti-hero, that’s the fact (the Ebon Blade are also anti-heroes and they are not bad, they just do necessary things to keep the Scourge in check). She was doing everything to take revenge on Arthas. And everything means that she had no problems walking over corpses of her allies. Causalities because of my fault? Pfft! No matter as long as the piece of trash sitting on the Frozen Throne will get what he deserves!

This was pretty much visible after Wrathgate when Varimathras and Putress tried to take over Undercity and Alliance and the Horde saw what she is doing inside the city. Still fine, it was in character, she was doing EVERYTHING to take revenge on Arthas. Everything. That’s why she existed, why she kept going. Even back then, I didn’t hate her. She was still a very well-written character. This is what a character in her position would do. 

But once everything was done, the Lich King was taken care of, she realized there is no point in her existence. She saw the Lich King was not destroyed. They only replaced him. So she threw herself from the Icecrown Citadel and fell on saronite spikes, the only thing that could definitely kill her.

And she ended up in a dark place. And the pain she felt was not like anything she felt before. It was the most horrible, the most inconsolable place. But val’kyras came down to her and sacrificed for her to get her back. Now we know what happened as we progress in the Shadowlands but... let’s say this was the beginning of the end for a good character Sylvanas once was. This was a start of cliché, inconsistency, and a great example that good characters should be allowed to go and leave so they can be remembered as a good characters.

WHAT CHANGED

Look, I came to WoW really late. I was playing on WotLK free servers as I could not afford to pay for official servers. But I knew the story in WotLK and I was still pretty ok with Sylvanas. I don’t remember hating her this much. She was well written.

It was Cataclysm Firelands patch when I finally could come to official servers. And Sylvanas was already doing pretty shady and disgusting stuff. I played Forsaken starting quest line so I know. Raising undead like the Lich King did? No problem for her. She even said she is like Arthas but she is working for the Horde (she never cared for them anyway, it was just more beneficial for her). What happened in Gilneas was not alright. Who gases the whole zone and making it inhabitable? Alright, let’s say Horde was expanding and Gilneas was next to Lordaeron. Alright. But back then, I finally dove deep into lore and I’ve noticed many people are really devoted to Sylvanas. It seemed almost like a cult. And every time I asked people, why they love this psyhopathic banshee, they were like: “She is my Queen! I love her, I would die for her! She is cool, she is taking care of us, she has a good heart!”

Something was amiss here... I couldn’t understand this. I couldn’t see what they saw. I saw a shady, ruthless and careless psychopath who is using her loyal subjects to save herself from something. And many people believed it even in BfA. Me and my friend had to show them excerpts from short stories where she say that “once they were arrows in her quiver, now they are bulwark against the darkness”. They couldn’t believe they loved Queen would not love them back!

But hey, still, I wanted to understand why people love her. I would understand if it would be still Warcraft III or WotLK, that’s fine. But Cata? Legion? BfA? Shadowlands? 

So I started reading all books, short stories where she was. Articles about her. I tried to catch the glimpse of why people loved her: the majority told me she is still good and has a good heart and she is an amazing person. But I didn’t see it. Maybe I am stupid and I don’t understand, I am missing something... So I kept studying, trying to see anything good in her, I was failing. I saw a character falling more down into a pit full of anger and hate. Her loyalists said she was an amazing creature, loving, caring.

And the more I was told by people that she is caring and she has a good heart, the more I was getting disgusted and angry because the more I was reading about her and the more her loyalists told me, the more I saw what Sylvanas is: inconsistent character.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH SYLVANAS

In one book she was written like this. In another book, she was written like that. In one quest it was like this, then it was like that. In one expansion she behaved this way, in the next expansion, it was that way. She was doing more and more twisted things and her loyalists kept telling me she has a good heart. My frustration was growing to the point I could not stand her. It felt like I’ve met the person I knew was torturing her friends but when I met them, they told me with bruises on their faces and definitely mentally abused that she is amazing and it’s not her fault, she is just misunderstood and I should love her too.

When she killed Liam Greymane, loyalists were like: “I have no clue why Genn hates her so much! That stupid dog should die!” Yeah right, somebody kills your son and destroys your home, you have no reason to be angry, it’s ok.

She burns down Teldrassil and they said: “Why Tyrande wants to kill her? I hope Sylvanas kills her first!” Sure, somebody burns down a city with thousands of innocent people, it’s fine, let them go, no hard feelings. And sometimes these people are able to justify her actions with: “But this is fantasy! There is different morale than in real world!” Please, guys, never ever write a story. Never touch it. You will end up like Steve Danuser making characters to behave like idiots and without emotions. Stay away. Please. Do world the favor.

I was trying really hard. Trying to figure out what kind of character she is. Find a pattern. Because you can write a chaotic character and still find a pattern and it can be still a consistent character. But Sylvanas? I felt more and more that not even Blizzard knows what to do with her, how to write her... she felt more and more inconsistent and out of place with every expansion. And you know what? That happens to characters which are kept in the story longer than they should. If character losts a meaning of their existence, there are only two options: you either let them go or you have to find them a new meaning. And in case of Sylvanas, the second option led to a narrative disaster.

We were told by Blizzard: “Don’t worry! Everything falls in place! It makes sense what she does!” But after the Sanctum of Domination finale? It was a big fat lie...

Before I come to the cinematic, let me tell you what made me hate her beyond every possible measure: her fandom.

HITLER HAD A GOOD HEART!

In Legion, she was doing shady stuff. But in BfA? She became a Hitler. She burned down Teldrassil because... IDK she snapped and wanted to show one elven archer that you can kill hope? And what kind of catapults she had has reach 20 km? What kind of catapults can burn down incredibly big tree SOAKED in water with thick bark. Was that azerite or... no, I am not gonna get angry. And I won’t even start with the b*shit Blizzard pulled: “Look, just because Sylvanas is right in front of Teldrassil doesn’t mean it was her who burned it down!” They had to lie to us to look that they can create a better story than what it actually is.

She destroyed Undercity so Forsaken lost their home. Is this how you take care of your subjects if you are loving and caring? I think not.

And with her actions, millions of souls from the whole cosmos are going right into the Maw for eternal suffering. And why? Because she was scared. Because instead of thinking about herself and trying to change, she rather schemed with the god of death... who was responsible for her misery. And even teamed with Kel’Thuzad, who was reason of her fate in the first place! And yet, after all this, after mass genocide, destroying souls, millions, maybe billions of souls are suffering because of her... and you can still tell me there is still good in her and she deserves redemption arch... And with love say: “She got us into this, she will get us out of this <3 ^_^” So somebody is making everybody suffer and some people are like “Ooooh it’s fine, I support her! I bet she will realize what she is doing and she will save us!” Would you say the same about Hitler? That he was misunderstood, he was trying to fix something that’s why he murdered millions of people? I am just asking what kind of people her loyalists are in real life.

I have a question... would you still love her if she was a man? Or decomposing undead? Or if she wouldn’t be sexy elf at all? If she would be ugly? I think we all know the answer (disclaimer, beautiful people are not always kind and nice, what a surprise). I bet she would be already killed or hated by majority of the community at least two expansions back. Why Garrosh had to stand trial for war crimes and Sylvanas doesn’t? To be honest, I never liked Garrosh, I hated him, but I never hated him as much I hate Sylvanas. He was at least consistent to his very last moment. But I am fed up by the fact that everybody keeps excusing what she does just because she is a sexy elf. This is not character I can respect. How can you say about such character that she is cool when you know she is commiting genocide? Let’s replace her with ugly elf and let’s see how many of you will still love her.

If you love her because she is a crazy homicidal maniac and you want her to do evil stuff, go ahead, nothing wrong with you, it’s fine. You love her because you think that she has a good heart and she is sending millions of souls into hell because she wants to help us? Take your pills and think twice before going on date with a manipulative person who will use you, beat you but will tell you they love you so much while cheating on you. Thanks.

If you are lying to yourself that she is good and has a good heart because you are afraid you wouldn’t like her anymore as a bad guy, then you love illusion you made around her, not the character itself. And you should seriously think if you really love the character if you need to change it that much in your mind to keep loving her.

GRAND FINALE

“If they are gonna give her redemption arch, I am gonna puke.” Many people told me, they would not. They are not gonna do it. She is beyond redemption, she is antagonist, period. Guess what, they did. The cheapest way possible.

Blizzard kept telling us everything will make sense in the end, why she did all these things. But it did not. And it only confirmed my greatest fear: Sylvanas is an inconsistent character since Cataclysm.

Sylvanas was afraid to go to the Maw. So she got an amazing idea. Let’s free the god of death, the malevolent creature trapped there because for sure he is suffering just like me, and injustice was done to him. He is the reason of my suffering because he made Helm of Domination and Frostmourne, that’s why I was killed and I am like this? I am sure he is a good guy, in the end, let’s remake reality so there is no life and death! That guy must be pretty ok. Oh wait his job is to torture souls? No, I don’t believe he is bad.

So when Jailer gets all he wanted, ofc he say that he will remake all reality and everybody will serve. And Sylvanas realizes: “Oh my, he is just like the Lich King! I didn’t want this! I will never serve!” Even she served him for the past few expansions. And suddenly she sees he is a bad guy. Suddenly.

And then, Jailer gives her half of her soul back... So... this is the explanation? She was doing all this because she was not whole? Is this an excuse for genocide? Now we will all feel sorry for her? Tell her it’s ok, you were not yourself?

I am saying this all the years and I will say it again: the Ebon Blade are order full of those with a fate like Sylvanas. The whole order. Multiple characters suffered under the Lich King like her, lost themselves, were made to kill their friends, their families. And they, too, took revenge on him. But instead of going crazy and trying to hurt everybody because they were hurt, they tried to help and protect people. Maybe they are missing part of their souls too. But are they running around, burning innocents, committing genocide? No. So please, the is no excuse, she was aware of what she was doing. I am not buying this and for sure this won’t make me feel sorry for her. It was her choice. You can be depressed and hurt into the very core and still decide not to be homicidal maniac.

Another annoying thing is, Blizzard kept telling us she is a master strategist and she is highly inteligent. Would a highly inteligent person try to help somebody responsible for her suffering? Being ok with them? There was not shown how come she is ok with the Jailer! Look I thought she is smart but after the cinematic, she does not look like that.

What was her plan anyway? Did she believe such creature won’t betray her, he won’t dump her? I was hoping he will dump her and kill her. That would be the only ending fitting for the character. I didn’t want another Kerrigan, I didn’t want redemption arch for her... I was hoping I will finally like her as a villain. Now I can’t... there is no way I will like her ever again because Blizzard probably can’t do just evil characters. There always must be something behind, some explanation why they are like this. “I was good this whole time!” And I am tired of this... Suddenly I like Garrosh because he was an asshole but he was consistent. He had a good ending. He “died” like a boss.

THEY SHOULD HAVE LET HER DIE

And I mean it. If they would let her go after WotLK, it would be a good ending for her. Tragic end for the tragic character. She fulfilled her purpose and she would be remembered as a good consistent character. But she is making a lot of money, many people love her (not anymore, even people who liked her hate her now and her fanbase is getting smaller) so Blizzard decided they have to milk her as much as possible.

I think everything good should come to an end. “You would either die as a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” In this case “You would either die as a good character or live long enough to become inconsistent and annoying character.” And it happened.

Remember how people were angry how Thrall is getting a lot of attention in Cata? Haha, good old times. How about Sylvanas in 3 expansion cinematics (and some side cinematics like Reckoning, etc) and 2 expansions fully focusing on her (and some other expansions where she is a lot too). How about the 15th figure in a row. And 4th Blizzcon art. And I can keep going.

Metzen had favorite characters... but they were never overused as much as Sylvanas. Vol’jin was warchief for 1 expansion where he did nothing and then he died so she could take lead in story. So many characters are forgotten, pushed down so she can be on the spotlight. And I am sick of it. This is not single player, this is MMORPG. The world feels ridiculously small thanks to this, we have more characters than Sylvanas + 5 characters they keep using and recycling all the time.

And keep using Sylvanas and putting her into the spotlight all the time did not help. You can start hating character you liked before just because you have enough of them and you want to see other characters. This world has a big potential. So many characters are unused because of Sylvanas. Because the lead narrative designer loves her so much that he had to make her the main character of WoW and doesn’t care there is a whole world to take care of. And he does the worst job possible. Because he tried to make her complicated and complex and in the end he was just trying to make it look like that but it didn’t work out. It was just inconsistent. It didn’t fall in place.

Her plot armor is so laughable and it’s the most annoying thing about Sylvanas. How characters around her are so stupid and dumb so they can let her do such stuff (hello Horde in BfA). The whole universe and Blizzard especially is protecting Sylvanas of any harm. How can you like such character when it behaves like Mary Sue? I didn’t want to see cinematic how she comes and beat up really powerful guy without any issues. You know how interesting would be if Four Horsemen managed to arrive earlier and they wouldn’t know if to fight the Lich King or Sylvanas? No, Blizzard wanted to show lady Sylvanas Plotarmor.

And the worst thing is, I feel like Shadowlands are my last expansion in WoW. This is where the story ends for me. And I know that many characters won’t get resolution, many story arcs will never close because they’ve put too much effort to work on Sylvanas and ignore other characters. So many characters could have met. Lore in Shadowlands could have been expanded about The Scourge, death knights, rune magic, etc... it did not. 

So no, Sylvanas is not one of the best characters created. If this is the best WoW can muster then there is nothing to be proud of. We would have good or better characters if Blizzard tried to work with more characters and give them space and a chance to develop. But we will never have them because Sylvanas took the spotlight.

Sylvanas for me is the character who will be put on guidelines on how to not use a character. This character will be perfect for DO NOT character development guidelines. And the whole story of WoW at least in BfA and Shadowlands is a great example of how to destroy the world with an amazing setting and characters. 

I hope I’ve made this clear why many people hate her. Because it’s much more complex problem. This character was misused, written horribly, overused, was given a poor and cheap story arch, made look stupid and it no longer makes sense. And on top of that, many characters will never get a resolution, many storylines won’t be finished because all story was focused on her and not on the world. World which was supposed to be “everybody’s story” was made story about Sylvanas. Just because she sells.

Good job Danuser, I hope you are happy.

Tl;Dr: Sylvanas is inconsistent since Cataclysm because Blizzard tried to make her complex character artificially and failed horribly. She should have died after WotLK and never made Warchief. They should have let her go so we can remember her as a good consistent character

P.S.: I am not native speaker, sorry for grammar errors.

[ilomilodailystuff]

If You Love Me || Sylki Fanfic

...really love me

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction

[LOKI FINALE SPOILERS]

dt @entertainmentforgods

(every mean comments about this ship will be deleted. If you don't like this ship, please just ignore.)

They did it, it was over. The impossible had come true.

Their heart beating wildly, the anguish of their uncertainty gradually fades as they understand the finality of it all.

Loki and Sylvie had joined forces to destroy the true mastermind of the TVA. The overpowered individual who pulled the strings behind the curtain.

The Goddess of Mischief dropped her bloodstained sword on the dark ground, making a loud metallic sound. He Who Remains had just gave his last breath.

Sylvie took a deep breath while staring at the inert body of the one who called himself The Conqueror. As Loki stood behind her, he watched her worriedly. She had just accomplished what she had fought for all her life. So many years feeding a justified anger towards one man, for it turned out that the Time Keepers were nothing but a sham. So many years of hiding, of surviving in the midst of so many apocalypses instead of just living fearlessly. Instead of living happily, instead of laughing, smiling, dancing, singing, enjoying the present moment, observing the universe and its many wonders without them being destroyed around her, loving and being loved in return... All of that was taken away from her, because The Ruler had decided to do so. Because only one man had made the decision to sacrifice her timeline and her family and those she loved. She had lost everything as a child, because a human had condemned her existence.

And now, the latter had just died. He had lived millions of lives, and the last had just ended, killed by the vengeful hand of an innocent orphan.

Slowly, Loki moved closer to her as he kept his eyes on her. Then when he was right behind her, he gently took her hand to try to get her out of her torpor. Her face turned to him as her gaze was drawn to the ground. She was still trying to regulate her breathing and realize the previous events.

"Come with me…" He half-murmurs, his blue eyes tinted with green watching his partner's reaction carefully, anxious to see her breaking down despite her strength to contain her emotions.

It was then that she nodded softly, still too absorbed by this decisive moment in her life. Sylvie turns to him with the intention of following him, no matter where he wanted to take her.

A few seconds later, both found themselves outside the entrance to the Citadel.

Loki went down the few steps, before sitting quietly on one of them. His teammate was not far away and she watched him get comfortable, while thousands of thoughts jostled in her mind. Curious, Loki brought his attention to her. When their eyes met, she began her steps to him to sit beside him on the step.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she sat down comfortably, her eyes fixed in front of her, finally noticing the awe-inspiring beauty of the sacred timeline they both would have admired sooner if it were in a less disastrous context. But now as they ran after time, it was as if it has just stopped.

The variants observed this painting before them, this masterpiece born from space and the end of the universe. For a moment, a pleasant silence rocked them in a surreal dream. Their eyes shine brightly, illuminated by the cosmos and time materialised in a perfectly fluid and sparkling line. But also, their intense feelings took over and tears had formed.

Hesitant but at the same time strangely confident, Loki turned to Sylvie, only able to imagine how she felt now.

"You're okay ?" He dares to ask softly.

Suffering of an internal conflict, Sylvie keeps her eyes wide open and try to look indifferent.

"I accomplished my mission, how do you think I feel ?" She replies naturally, almost on the defensive.

"Relieved ?"

"Yeah, among other things." She confirms with obviousness.

Amused by her slightly aggressive responses which, according to him, are what make her what she is, the god of mischief ends up stretching a tender smirk, realizing that this tone will never leave her no matter the situations in which they find themselves, as dramatic and catastrophic as they may be.

Innocently, Sylvie ends up looking at her partner.

"Why do you smile ?" She asks.

He smiles a little more.

"The real question is... why don’t you ?" Loki retorts, eyebrows raised.

The Enchantress raised her eyebrows in turn, that desperate, lonely look that makes her charm appearing on her face. What to answer to that? She had learned that Loki was insightful about her, but she wasn't used to being the center of attention that much.

"Why seek answers to trivial questions." She asks rhetorically as she looks away from him.

After a while, Loki also turned away, dissatisfied with her answer but still preferring to let go.

"So this is it..." He starts. "It's done."

"It's done." Sylvie asserts, nodding her head a little.

His eyes going here and there, Odin's son was asking himself lots of questions. Including one in particular.

"What do we do now ?" He wonders, seeming lost.

Sylvie took a deep breath again, ignoring like him the future of events.

"Should we go back to the TVA ?" Loki continues, bringing his gaze back to the one person he trusted.

"Why ?" She asks softly. "They don't need us anymore."

"But we don't have to hide." He responds with a comforting smile. "We are their allies."

"Is that what you want, to go back to the TVA ? But to do what ?" She asks again, looking into his eyes.

He thought for a moment, trying to unravel this enigmatic knot, stepping into the unknown.

"The Sacred Timeline is free" He said, emphasizing the first words in an exaggerated and caricatural way. "Maybe once we get there, we can look for another timeline where we can... fit in ?"

A silence took hold of them, leaving for only words the looks they exchanged.

Sylvie then ends up lowering her gaze in the direction of her own hands, revealing between her fingers the object that the Conqueror kept around his hand. The tempad.

"How about we take a break, until one of us finds a place to go ?" She offers softly, lost in thought as she doesn't take her eyes off the object.

"What, here ?" Loki asks, uncertain and surprised by her answer.

"Why not..?" She replies, her eyebrows raised, her mind being elsewhere. "When you've seen thousands of apocalypses, The Void isn't as bad as it seems."

Loki takes the time to consider this idea, thinking about everything else. The members of the TVA, the sacred timeline that has become completely independent, the very few people to which he is attached. They had just accomplished something huge, should they just ignore the multitudes of consequences their act caused ?

"It's over, Loki." Sylvie said, looking up at him.

Again, his gaze plunged deeply into her eyes

"We did what we had to do." She continues, looking serene.

"What if they still need us ?" He asks, referring to the TVA, specifically Mobius and hunter B-15, the only two people who believed in them and offered their precious help.

Sylvie watched the sacred timeline as it gradually divided, and she sighed.

"I am tired." She admits, ignoring Loki's question. "And you ?"

Loki admired the many timelines that continued to split, before taking a deep breath.

"Yes, me too..." He answers softly, releasing his breath, releasing the pressure he had been holding since his arrival at the TVA and which he hadn't known he had kept in him all this time until now.

However, he couldn't shake off his negative thoughts and all his apprehensions about the completion of their mission and the impact it will have on the trillions of people the universe can create. The god of mischief had, against all odds, developed a conscience and a moral code. Yes, they had delivered the world by giving it back its free will. But for some reason that he didn't quite understand, he began to doubt.

And buried into his torment, Sylvie brought a comforting hand to his.

Loki laid his eyes on this delicate hand, yet belonging to that of a warrior, his heart missing a beat at the gentle contact of the one he had become crazy about. In this moment of complexity, in this major turning point for the multiverse, he almost forgot his feelings. He almost forgot the way they looked at each other in the Citadel as they walked into the darkness. He almost forgot the moment she had gripped his hand in the Void, in front of Alioth, hoping to help him unleash his enchantment powers.

Suddenly caught up in his emotions, he looked up uncertainly in the direction of his partner. Then, she gave him a brief smile, but oh so genuine. The same smile she had given him on Lamentis, while everything around them was death and destruction. Apparently everything was written. But he decided to ignore this detail that the conqueror had shared with too much pride.

Still confused by these unusual feelings, Loki returned that affectionate and heartwarming smile. Only, looking into her expressive eyes - but in the greatest secret, a loving gaze- he realized that the very thing he wanted above all now was to never leave her again. To stay by her side, as long as possible, even forever, better than that : beyond death. His desires made him all the more nervous. He never thought he would be so consumed by his moods, let alone by a loving emotion that possesses him more and more after each day he spends in her company. Nevertheless he wanted to seize this desire and make it come true.

This time, it is the TVA that he forgets, it is the universe that he neglect, it is the time that he ignores.

It is his glorious purpose that he gave up, because he found a new one...

"Sylvie..." He said, drunk with love for her. "I..."

"No, Loki, wait." Sylvie interrupts him, being totally lost and frightened at the same time. "I have to tell you something..."

"Yes ?" He asks, innocent, patient, in love.

She looked at him intensely, trying to express herself. Something seemed to upset her. Loki was trying to read into her eyes, to read her face, when no word could break the barrier of her lips. Disturbed by this confession, it turned out that it was getting stuck between the walls of her throat.

So the Prince of Asgard frowned, intrigued by the torture she was inflicting on herself through this mysterious revelation.

"I..." She starts before her lips instantly seal.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for another attempt, as Loki's piercing, loving gaze dug into her pupils until it consumed her whole being.

When finally, in complete disarray, she ends up throwing herself at his neck.

Her lips crashed against his, tenderly, passionately but mostly timidly. Surprised but more than grateful for this proof of unexpected love, Loki was not long in returning her kiss with just as much fervor.

Sylvie had never been attached to anyone. She never wanted to be weak because of her feelings. She would never have dedicated herself to someone body and soul, for trusting and breaking down the imposing and solid walls she had built around her was inconceivable. And yet, faced with the many selfless acts of the one who had irrupted into her plan, she had found herself giving him importance. She hated knowing that she was only considering trusting him. She hated the fact that he could climb these walls she had locked herself between.

Worse yet, she was terrified to find herself reaching out to help him climb.

Eyes closed, they kissed each other with fragility, embarrassed to feel such intense emotions but oh how much they surrendered to them.

Sitting side by side, they relished this moment of sincerity and calm after all they had endured. The highlight of their journey. The completion of a battle for freedom, the same cause that the rightful king of Asgard fought against to make it inaccessible to the people of the earth. This cause that he finally chose to defend ; for him at the beginning, but for her on the way, and for the others at the end of their fight.

Slowly, they parted. Loki then dared to rest his forehead tenderly against hers. They kept their eyes closed, as if to immortalized this moment in their memories, for who knows what might happen to them tomorrow.

That's why he whispered these few words :

"You're right, I... I'm a little tired..." He admitted again hesitantly, unsettled by this moment of pure sincerity.

Keeping her forehead against his, Sylvie nodded gently, not daring to open her eyes to face the truth she still had trouble swallowing.

"Let's stay here..." Loki continues.

"Only for a little while." She continues nervously, muttering her desires like him, probably too afraid that someone will hear them or too embarrassed to admit she is weak in front of him, while he is weak in front of her.

"Yes, after all... If something goes wrong, they know where to find us, right ?" He responds with a raised eyebrow as he still kept his eyes closed, trying to reassure himself by making excuses to stay.

"Yeah, of course, nothing prevents Mobius from coming back here." She confirmed casually.

"Well, unless... Unless he had to prune himself." He said worriedly. "But it’s not as if we have no way to reach them !" He adds anyway, optimistic and trying not to feel guilty.

“Yes ! We have the--” She mimics his optimism, as she pulls away from his forehead to observe the object in her free hand.

"T-the tempad..." He confirms by muttering and nodding his head, bringing in turn his attention to the latter.

The taste of her lips was still too present on Loki's for him to think properly. However, he was trying.

Shyly, he finally looked at her again, a quiet smile displayed on his face.

Of course, Sylvie had noticed it. How to ignore him ? So, embarrassed, she gave him an uncertain look, having no idea how they should react now. After all, despite their thousand years of life, the variants had never really been devoted to feelings or romance that seemed more than superfluous and unnecessary at the time. Although they were aware of their emotions, repressed or not, knowing how to react to them was still an area to be explored.

The landscape around them gradually brought her back to reality. Then, looking worried, she turned her gaze to the entrance to the Citadel. She remembered the corpse of the He Who Remains, the one who had wiped out her timeline and certainly thousands more.

Loki frowned, noticing the change in expression on his partner's face.

"Are you sure you’re okay ?" He asks once more with patience.

Lost in thought, Sylvie continued to look at the place where everything had changed with a blank stare.

"No..." she sighs slowly.

The god of mischief was envious to possess the complicated mind of his variant for the sole purpose of finding the source of her ill-being. It would be enough for him to touch her to enchant her, now that he knows the secrets of enchantment. However, would he dare ? He hesitated for a fraction of a second, before totally rejecting the idea away from him. He was incapable of defying her trust, for he knew full well that he would risk a lot if he tried. Especially since he was still cruelly lacking in experience concerning enchantments.

"But when I wake up tomorrow knowing that the one responsible for all this horror is only a memory, then I could savor every second of my life." She asserts returning her attention to Loki as if nothing had happened, speaking with confidence and lightness.

Perplexed but somewhat reassured, he just nodded briefly, straining to accept her answer. However, something in him told him that she wasn't being entirely truthful.

"...Glorious purpose." He said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mh..." She only answers, a quiet smirk nestling in the corner of her lips.

Calm eventually took over. Neither of them spoke, only watching the story of trillions of lives forming before their eyes in those many fluorescent lines.

"We're not leaving." He speaks up, his statement sounding more like a question mark.

"We're not leaving." She repeats with a little more conviction than him.

Slowly, he finally took a light breath, before sighing in contentment.

After an extremely difficult journey that could have cost them their lives, even though the Ruler had decided that they would be spared so that they could both achieve their goal, they were going to be able to rest, they were going to be able to breathe. Because even if the gods have more ability than humans to resist fatigue and pain, they could do nothing before the effervescence of their emotions. And as tough as they could be, they were tired, mentally and physically.

Thereupon, on this mutual agreement, the two variants had decided that it was time for them to rest for a while. They didn’t know what they were going to do. But they had decided to figure this out…

Together.

[yelenasdog]

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.”  He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion. 

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows. 

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”  

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world. 

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated. 

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel. 

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

 xx hj

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “An Unknown Void.”

Hope you all enjoy your day today. 

The deep blackness of space surrounded him, or it seemed t, with the lights on the bridge dimed and the blast shield lifted from the wind screen, he could see nothing, well, there was the occasional star in the sky, but according to star charts, this place was supposed to be the darkest  in the known universe. 

He reached down and tilted the ship slightly to the side to give a better view for the onboard telescopes. Scientists had a theory that this place wasn’t nearly as dark as it looked. A couple thousand years ago the Hubble telescope had been turned towards the darkest portion of the sky they could see, and returned with the Hubble deep space images depicting thousands if not trillions of unknown stars that had been invisible to the naked eye and inferior ground telescopes. He expected to see the same thing here.

Adam was not himself a scientist, though he tried his best to keep informed and educated on as many subjects as possible. Partially It Was due to his overwhelming desire for self improvement, while another part of him, a more subconscious part of him had someone he desperately wanted to impress.

He reached down to open the comm line to the science division, “See anything?”

There was only a momentary pause before, “Give us just another minute sir. We are having to recalibrate the telescopes.”

“Oh, is something wrong?”

“We tried taking a picture but didn’t see anything. It was probably just a younger scientist who forgot to remove the lens covers. We should be good to go.”

There was a pause.

“That’s weird.”

“What?”

There was quiet for a long moment, “Sir, we are still seeing nothing. I think there might be some sort of malfunction….”

Adam shifted in his seat, “turn the telescope back behind us and see if it works in that direction.”

“Sir, how would the direction-”

“Just do it.”

There was another long, two minute pause before, “Sir…. the images are coming in and they look…. Fine…”

Adam wasn’t sure what to think, “His first instinct was to assume a blak hole or something was eating up all the light in the area, but blackholes were visible due to their event horizon, and their machines would have noticed the anomaly in gravitation even this far out.”

Then a thought struck him.

Had they reached the end of the Universe. 

No no obviously that wasn’t the case, There were plenty of known galaxies and stars all around them. It was just this narrow speck of the cosmos that didn’t seem to have anything. Somehow that thought made him feel slightly woozy. Adam had never been susceptible to Cosmic Schock, but even he didn't find the thought of an endless black void to be particularly comforting.

“I don’t like it.”

The voice in his head nearly startled him out of his sea, and he frowned in annoyance as Conn floated into view just outside the ship window.

Adam was about to say something scathing to the starborn bust stopped as he saw conn floated with his back to the window staring out at the vast blackness. He reached a hand back to absently touch the screen as if grounding himself against the void. Adam stirred uneasily as he felt Conn’s walls slip. Suddenly his own head was filled with a brimming uneasiness spilling over from Conn himself.

The sensation was strange and unsettling. Conn usually kept his emotions under close wraps, but to see him falter like that was more than strange.

He felt a shiver crawl up his spine.

The starborn had spent his entire life in the void of space, so to have him disquieted by something in space was enough to make Adam nervous as well.

He motioned to his navigation specialist, “Give me a rout back to the nearest star system. Conn, get inside.”

The starborn only hesitated for a few moments before doing as told and floating around the side of the ship..

***

The bright lights blinked on and then off.

They  tended to agree, something strange was going on. Their one large eye blinked once as more lights ran up and down the sides of their body. 

They stared through the analysis screen but the readout indicated absolutely nothing. There was no detectable UV light, or unknown radiation except for the constant radiation and background frequency that was to be expected in space. 

They turned the analysis screen back towards the beginning of the star field to make sure their machine was not simply malfunctioning. It had never done so before, but there was always a statistical likelihood that it might again.When the star field came into view, the screen suddenly erupted with a bright array of blinking lights all with scientific analysis ready for use. That was obviously strange, but they were sure that their equipment was now working. They were about to turn their attention back towards the dark field when something on the analysis caught their eye. It was a bright blinking light, much smaller than the rest but indicating that it was far closer. They zoomed in on that particular indicator and was suddenly pleased at what they found. The signature was familiar, a known mixture of nitrogen and oxygen inside an enclosed container run by fusion energy.

They turned over and floated back through the door and down the tight tunneled hallway.

Bright orange and yellow eyes blinked at them as they passed by the others, flashing their lateral lights in question. They would have answered the questions if the others if they were not hurrying to inform their comandante of their new neighbors

They floated through a hole in the ceiling, or floor as it might have been in any orientation ad met the comandante on the bridge.

They turned, “Zheyar, have you found anything.” Bright lights blinked up and down their body to indicate the question dimming and expanding at moments.

“The dark field is….. Still dark. I can get no readings from it, however it seems that we are not alone.”

Bright lights flashed down their body in response to the news, “Oh, lovely, is it anyone that we know.”

“I believe they are a member of the species we met in the ice field, the ones that put us in contact with the GA.”

There was another bright exchange of lights before the comandante made their decision, “We will have to greet them certainly.”

***

Adam was just prepping his ship for a short warp to the nearest star when their comms specialist suddenly bolted upright in her seat. She leaned forward for a moment pressing her headset against her head, “Sir, sir I have a signal… we are being hailed.” He sat up in his seat, “Way the hell out here. Analyse the signal and send it through.”

There was only a momentary pause before, “Sir, I… its transmitting like a Mike ship.”

Adam perked up, “Mikes! I love those big guys. Hold on, patch the through, and get the translation team up here as soon as you can, I’m gonna need those LEDs .”

It was only minutes later that he had the translation team up and running standing next to him and carefully placing illumination stickers up and down the sides of his body. The little LEDs would brighten and dm in connection with his voice in order to translate to the mikes. 

The screen before him lit up and he was excited to see one of them floating on screen before him.

He smiled, “It is a pleasure to see your kind again.” The little colorful dots brightened and dimmed up the sides of his body flashing in bright neons as he spoke. It was only slightly distracting, but he was pleased to speak to the mikes after so long of not seeing tem.

“It is you!” The creature exclaimed emphasizing its enthusiasm with even brighter light.

“I am happy to see you after such a long time. We had assumed you had returned to your home world.”

The mike flashed lights up and down its body. There was no translation so he assumed it was some sort of gesture like a shrug or a shake of the head would be for humans, “We are sorry that we coil not take your GA’s invitation for a visit, but we did have a deadline to consider. We do promise that our monarchs have taken the offer into consideration and will be sending a delegation soon. We are very pleased at the idea of joining your coalition, though we have had so many things to do as of late.”

Adam’s enthusiasm was picked up by the brightness of the LED stickers, “I am personally very excited to hear that. I had hoped that you would take us up on our offer.” he Tried to avoid using his hands too much knowing that the movement of his arms might obscure the lights, “It seems of an almost astronomical coincidence that we should run into each other. There must be a reason.”

“I assume that you are looking at the same piece of dead space as we are, tell me has your scientific equipment been abl to detect what ours have not.”

Adam shook his head, “I am afraid we are getting no readings from the space, though i daresay our equipment is far less superior in comparison to yours.”

The mike flashd a little, “Sometimes simplicity can outmaneuver complex machines, though I see that we are both lost on that particular subject.”

Adam nodded, “Then I propose that we work together for the time being, I supply manpower and technology?”

“It would be a pleasure to work with you, andI must say that you have found quite an ingenious way to speak our language. Yo wear them well.”

He laughed, “You flatter me. We should dock our ships together if you are willing.”

“The pleasure is ours.”

***

It wasn’t more than a few light minutes later when they had docked themselves with the human ship. The cargo doors opened and a waft of wind equalized the pressure between their two ships. The air on the human ship was just slightly heavier making them sink just a few inches towards the floor, though it was of no concern. The humans were waiting for them, standing against the ground, forced to hold up their entire skeletal structures against gravity. It must have been exhausting for them, and likely took a lot of energy.

Their original analysis of humans indicated that a human would have to eat multiple times a day in order to keep up the energy required to move, but these humans seemed bright and awake and likely well fed. Their leader was waiting for them wearing those bright LED dots in order to communicate as did everyone else who stood with him.

They were surprised to find other aliens with him, and were both eager and interested to examine the strange creatures. They floated forward and were met by the humans who bowed low. Another creature floated around the corner of the wall, and the mikes pulled back in surprise.

One of the Star children.

The human seemed to have noticed their surprise.

“You've met the starborn before?”

“On a few occasions,though we weren't aware they had friendly relations with…. anyone .”

The human twitched its upper body strangely before letting the gesture fall, “he i about as friendly as it gets and that’s not saying much.”

The entire group of them shivered lightly as a cold presence washed over them, “Don’t listen to him, he has a hard time admitting how much he loves me. We have a daughter together you know.”

The human’s head snapped to look over at the starborn two eyes narrowing, “Shut the hell up conn, that is not the first thing you need to bring up in front of the company.’

The LED lights on his body flashed bright green with his anger.

The Mikes watched in fascination.

One of the other strange creatures, taller than the human and with another set of limbs stepped forward to Examine the Mike. Its coloring was brightly colored and quite pleasant. It examined them while they examined her, and soon enough she was surrounded by a swarm of poking and prodding at her joints and limbs and strange carapace. They had never seen anything like it before.

The creature took it gracefully enough though their leader to apologize. They did enjoy learning about new things and new creatures. They were completely harmless of course.

The human waved a hand at the dogs on his sides and arms blinking, “Don’t worry, she’d be happy to assist your scientists. If you would please follow me, we can show you how ur ship works see if there is anything that you find useful.

In the end the two groups took tours of each other’s ships, shared as much scientific information as was possible and then began their conjectures about the dark space which they had come across. The Mikes could not penetrate it with any of their equipment and neither could the humans determine that there was really only one way to explore what lay beyond.

They were going to have to go there themselves.

It was suggested that they simply warp to the center of the darkfield, but that thought was quickly discarded as it involved far too much danger. The human offered to fly his ship slowly out into the abyss while the mikes tracked them to see if their signal was lost at any point which they decided was a good course of action if not very reckless.

They were soon to learn that humans tended to be reckless anyway, which both scared them and gave them no small measure of admiration.

They would soon learn quite a bit about humans.

Though both parties were unaware of a stirring in the darkness. A stirring that was well aware of their presence.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Being Fake Soulmates with Dr. Chilton (Part 6)

<- Part 5

Frederick Chilton x Reader | The Good Place crossover

Final chapter! Warning: The Good Place spoilers, and a timeline that makes perfect sense because Jeremy Bearimy, baby. 

2,800 words

“No way. It’s too dangerous!”

“I thought you said we were in this together?” Chilton quirked a brow, eliciting a petulant grumble. You crossed your arms.

“Or maybe you think I’m expendable, so you’re willing to take risks with my life. Afterlife. Whatever.”

Frederick Chilton, who was not, as originally advertised, your soulmate, nonetheless clasped your hand with gentle tenderness. I would never do anything to hurt you is what a normal person would say in that moment, and perhaps his eyes said it, somewhere deep in their searching pools of green. But Dr. Chilton had a repressed way about him, tending toward overly clinical just stating the facts (or the sarcasm). Anything but genuine, vulnerable, sentimentality.

He guided you by your hand to sit down beside him on the baroque loveseat in one of his many living rooms, studies, and salons. After you settled yourself on the velvet cushion, he leaned his shoulder against yours in that quiet way he showed affection.

“After reviewing the town records,” he said, “I believe we may be the only two humans in the neighborhood. Some of the residents are far too dull—Chidi Anagonye, the moral philosophy professor who spent his life writing a single manuscript, Jianyu the silent monk—while others are too perfect—Glen, that one who is constantly volunteering, Tahani, the philanthropist. Real people have flaws, secrets, hobbies. I can only be certain of myself and you.”

“How’d you figure out I’m real?”

“I didn’t. I simply refuse to accept the alternative,” he said with a sad smile, and you began to think Dr. Chilton was sentimental after all.

***

Their voices were muffled even with your ear pressed to the door of Michael’s office—not that it mattered much what they were talking about. You were just waiting for the signal, and at that moment, it came. Their footsteps and voices grew louder as Frederick and Michael approached, and the door handle clicked.

“—which is why cannibalism loses more good-person points than defenestration but fewer than chewing loudly on a crowded bus.”

“Fascinating. I never thought about it that way,” said Chilton, looking genuinely disturbed.

You flattened yourself against the wall next to the door, thinking thin thoughts as the pair exited the office. A tall houseplant barely disguised your presence, and if Michael had any kind of peripheral vision, he would see you standing there plain as day.

But Dr. Chilton spoke animatedly, fixing him with a challenging laser-stare as he asked a probing follow-up question. Locked in Chilton’s eyes, Michael failed to notice the movement just behind his left shoulder as you slipped through the closing door before it could latch shut.

Safe.

Michael’s office was quiet and filled you with serenity in much the same way a teddy bear is filled with stuffing: forcefully and by no will of your own. Like the welcome room with its happy green plants and happy green words on the wall assuring you everything is fine, the office peeled your defenses away. Cream-colored walls yawned out around the perimeter, punctuated with bright windows, a portrait of Doug Forcett (a stoner from the 1970s who guessed, on a mushroom trip, how the afterlife really worked), and various artifacts of humanity enshrined like museum pieces, despite seeming perfectly mundane.

At the top of the room was a large mahogany desk.

Yesterday, Chilton watched Michael put away files in the desk that he wouldn’t let him look at. Chilton was certain they were the key to unraveling the mystery, so he suggested working together—he would distract Michael while you sneaked in to find the files. It was risky, but it might have been your only chance of discovering what was going on, and if there was a way to escape.

You began poking through the desk and found stacks of papers in an unreadable alphabet. The only thing you could read were lyrics to a genuinely terrible song Michael was writing titled “Love Train to the Cosmos.”

The last drawer wouldn’t budge.

Yanking the handle didn’t work. Banging on the side with your fist failed to unstick it. It was locked. Locked drawers were suspicious. The answers had to be in there.

You eyed a mountain of paperclips lovingly displayed on a pedestal labeled “Human Things.” Snatching two off the top, you unbent and re-bent the stiff metal wire, and inserted it into the lock. Faint clicks sounded as you turned and finessed the paperclip, feeling each pin in the tumbler slide into place. Then you gently turned it, and—pop. The drawer opened.

A single manila folder stamped TOP SECRET in threatening red letters rested inside, as if waiting to be found. You picked it up and opened it, and your breath caught. They were reports on “The Good Place.” The Good Place in quotation marks. Reports about you.

A pleasant bing sounded.

Janet materialized in front of the desk. For once, she was not wearing a cheery smile.

***

Frederick Chilton had always been a selfish man. Any opportunity that could advance his career and put him in the spotlight, he would take it no matter who it hurt. “Unorthodox therapy,” he called it in his private chats with Dr. Lecter. They bonded over their shared interest in unorthodox research before he learned Dr. Lecter was a cannibal. That would have been a clue to anybody else that it was time to change his ways, but Dr. Chilton spent the rest of his years just as selfish and petty—more so, even, as his disfiguring injuries gave him more reason for spite.

He could never accept himself as he was.

By the time he died, Chilton was an intolerable asshole who paid back the world’s cruelty with his chronic foul moods and acerbic sarcasm. He kept everyone at a distance.

And yet, here, in death, he found himself worrying over someone else.

The sun was shining in the ever-blue sky, dappled by lush green foliage before reaching the two men as they strolled the neighborhood below. Michael was built like a sapling with longer legs than he knew what to do with, making Chilton nearly jog to keep pace. He had a warm smile and an outgoing demeanor—always flattering Chilton’s ego and asking for his guidance. But something malignant hid behind those smiling eyes, and Chilton’s mind kept rushing back to you, hoping you were OK.

He hoped that you were safe. Not that the plan was going smoothly. That you were safe.

There was a difference, and Dr. Chilton noticed right away that his twitchy nervousness was not wrought of self-preservation. It was a new type of panic—worse than fear for himself, which he never thought possible considering the amount of terror he had experienced on his own behalf.

To distract himself, Chilton threw himself into the role of Michael’s assistant, focusing on his task of supposedly identifying psychological issues causing problems with the neighborhood.

“Our interviews should go in alphabetical order, under the pretense of a survey—a sort of afterlife census—to avoid suspicion. It should be feasible, with only three hundred residents—”

“We know,” Michael said coolly. His voice dropped from the usual friendly, flattering demeanor, slipping off like a mask.

“You know how you are going to handle the interviews? It is imperative the subjects do not suspect they are being studied.” Chilton swallowed, knowing full well that he was talking to the real Michael for the first time.

“Don’t play dumb.” Michael smiled an entirely different type of smile, twisted and clever with no warmth in it. “We’ve been watching you, Dr. Chilton. We knew you would figure it out eventually. It was only a matter of time before you saw through a psychiatric study.”

Chilton’s interest piqued at the same time his blood went cold. He wet his lips. “Is that what all this is, then?”

The pair came to a stone bridge that arched gracefully over a reflection pool. Michael stopped midway across, leaned one of his long, pointed elbows on the railing, and cocked his head at Chilton.

“You haven’t figured it all out yet? That’s disappointing. You humans really are so dense.” His tone was so mean that Chilton took an unconscious step back. Michael only laughed and told him there was no point in running away. “But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to offer,” he promised.

Most of what you had been told about the afterlife was true, Michael explained. There was a real good place, and there was a real bad place where bad people were tortured for all eternity. But the bad place had a problem: it was boring! Humans get used to physical pain after the first few centuries, no matter how creative the punishment.

“Once you’ve flattened a thousand penises, you’ve flattened them all. I’m trying to do something new here. Innovate!” said Michael with an energetic swoop of his hand. “Emotional torture can cause the same level of discomfort, but in a more sustainable and (more importantly) entertaining way. That’s what this neighborhood is for—to study you humans and find out what makes you miserable.”

And then he offered Dr. Chilton something that grabbed his attention. The opportunity to design bad place neighborhoods.

“You are asking me to help implement psychological torture?” Chilton turned over each word cautiously.

“Oh,” Michael scoffed, “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about the ethics? Doctor, I’ve read your file.”

Chilton winced. He had done truly amoral things in the name of discovery—things it made him sick to be reminded of. Strange, though. In the past, he would have been proud to be treated as a peer by a psychopath. Not ashamed.

“Think of it, the glory, the prestige. You would be designing the afterlife for billions of souls. You will be remembered throughout eternity as the man who reformed the bad place!”

“And my soulmate?”

Chilton blurted it without thinking. It sounded so childish and naive, and sure enough, Michael shook his head and had a long chuckle at his expense.

“There’s no such thing! I thought you knew,” Michael slapped his knee. “I made it up so you would torture each other! But once again, I underestimated the human libido. You people all think with your genitals, it’s—it’s gross. Humans are gross.” He made a face. “That’s why I need your help to design a better system. With your understanding of the human mind, we can make condemned souls miserable for thousands of years.”

Chilton couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for this plan, and Michael frowned.

“If it makes you feel any better, consider this the humane option. The alternative is going back to scooping eyeballs out with melon ballers and replacing them with live bees. What do you say, doctor? Join my team.” Michael extended a hand, and Chilton eyeballed it.

“Can my soulmate—”

“Not a soulmate.”

“—come with me?”

“This offer is only open to you.”

“So they will be tortured? Alone? For eternity? In a system I help design?”

“Nothing you can do will change that. They are going to be tortured—the only person you can save is yourself, if you decide to help me.”

Frederick’s brow knit together. He thought about refusing. He really did. Abandoning you seemed unthinkable, especially after your promise to each other to stick together. But he was a selfish creature, and choosing to be punished wouldn’t protect you. If he was lucky, by teaming up with Michael, he could design a more comfortable torture for you one day.

“Maybe this will help make up your mind,” Michael said. “Hannibal Lecter.”

“Lecter?”

“He’s here. In the bad place. So far, he has been especially resistant to traditional torture. I thought you might have a personal interest in taking a crack at him?”

***

On a floating, room-sized projection screen, Frederick Chilton shook Michael’s hand. Your head fell forward, shoulders slumping. The screen flicked off and dissipated into the office air.

“This is the 764th time he has failed,” said Janet, giving a sympathetic simulation of a sigh. “We were sure he was going to make the right decision this time.”

You shook your head. “Fame and glory? Revenge? He’ll never refuse those. Trust me—he died because of them and still never learned his lesson.”

“That is what we’re afraid of. Some people never pass their tests. Fun fact!” she perked up, “Hannibal Lecter’s test is working at a Burger King where he can only cook Impossible Whoppers, and his 19-year-old manager calls him pee-paw. He gets reset every time he eats a customer. His longest record is twelve hours.”

When Janet found you snooping in Michael’s desk, you expected to be dragged away, never to see Frederick again. Instead, she explained everything to you—the truth.

A long time ago, the bad place was exactly how Michael described it—a place where souls were sent to have their orifices filled with spiders for eternity. Then he decided to try something new. Originally, he paired you with Dr. Chilton hoping you would drive each other crazy. But no matter what happened, you kept falling in love. You kept supporting each other, and taking care of each other. The same happened with his other human test subjects—they kept improving and becoming better people than they were on Earth. Eventually, Michael changed, too.

He redesigned the bad place to be a test—a chance for human souls to earn their way into the good place. At the end of each test, you either pass and go to the good place, or your memories are erased and you start over again.

“So, what happens to me now?”

“You passed. You can go to the good place now, and spend the rest of eternity in paradise. The real one.”

“And Frederick? He’ll be alone?”

Janet nodded.

“Put me back in. Reset me, and make me his soulmate again.”

“Are you sure?” Janet asked.

“I’m not going without him.”

“He would leave you behind. You just saw that.”

“That wasn’t fair. Anyone would accept that deal. I would accept that deal!”

“No. You wouldn’t,” Janet said. “You passed your test a long time ago.”

For a while, a heavy silence fell between you as you processed this. Finally, you thought of the only question worth asking. “How many times have we had this conversation?”

“762.”

“Well then,” you said. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“I do. But you retain a vague sense of your memories from previous tests. At a subconscious level, you might realize you’re tired of this.”

You smiled. A big, genuine one that balled your cheeks and creased the corners of your eyes. “That’s not how I feel at all. I think I love him more every time.”

Janet nodded, but gave one last warning before erasing your memories again. “If he never passes, you could be stuck here forever.”

“Stuck falling in love with that insecure jerk over and over again for thousands of years? Sounds like heaven to me.”

“I thought you might say that.”

***

The first day, you really wanted to punch his pretentious snobby face for thinking he was so much better than you.

The first time you laid eyes on Dr. Frederick Chilton, he was waiting behind a mahogany desk with an ancient hardcover book in his hands. Not reading it—waiting, posed deliberately to be discovered that way, and give the impression of intellectualism.

“This is your soulmate,” said Michael, introducing you.

Chilton took a step back after shaking your hand and looked you up and down critically, as if he were appraising livestock. And right away, you knew there had been a terrible mistake. Who the fork did he think he—

Fork. Fork! Why couldn’t you say fork?!

***

Bright light streamed in through the open bedroom window. The weather was always perfect here, except when some glitch made it rain caviar and jelly beans. Or that time Frederick had a vivid nightmare, and organs began falling from the sky. Every day, something horrible seemed to go wrong in the good place. Things that challenged you and pushed your soulmate to his limits.

But most mornings were like this. Quiet. A time just for the two of you.

Your fingers lightly stroked his chest, delving into the soft hairs that rose and fell with his steady breathing. You pressed a soft kiss to his skin, then another, tracing a line of them lower, over a jagged, raised line down his abdomen. His scars let you know he was waking up. This was the good place—he didn’t have to let them show. Usually, he chose to appear as a younger version of himself, before all the indelible trauma. But on peaceful mornings like this, he would let them show just so you could soothe them. He never thought he would be that comfortable with anyone. That he could trust anyone so much.

Every day, you both knew you could overcome anything, so long as you were together.

[dansantcaparet]

Aerith, the Non-Optional Girl...

By FF_Goddess/Shiva of www.cloudandaerith.com

If you are interested in why I believe that Cloud's love for Aerith during the events of FFVII is not optional, then keep reading... Otherwise, thanks for stopping by! I hope this article gave you a clear view of why Cloud and Aerith fans believe they are the intended pairing of FFVII. :-)

Regardless of what choices you make during FFVII, it does not change these facts:

1. Cloud was attracted to Aerith from the beginning, admiring her radiant eyes and saying that her smile "was a good purchase".

* Cloud never admits any such thing about Tifa. In fact, he never makes any remarks on her appearance... ever.

2. Cloud and Aerith's meeting in the church was reproduced with Zack and Aerith in Crisis Core, giving Cloud and Aerith a direct parallel to Aerith's first romance as well as giving them a straightforward link to another canon couple in the same universe.

3. Cloud and Aerith meeting one another was described as "destiny" in multiple official sources.

4. Cloud agreed to become Aerith's bodyguard without asking for money. Instead, he accepts a date with her as payment.

* Cloud had just recently refused to fulfill his promise to Tifa, told her that her cause with Avalanche didn't mean anything to him, and also refused to help Avalanche further without being paid (and even more money than what he had received for his last mission with them).

5. Cloud smiles and laughs with Aerith. It is the **only** time during FFVII that he does either of these things.

* Tifa was not able to get Cloud to smile or laugh **at all** during the course of FFVII.

6. When Cloud is at Aerith's house, he remembers his mother telling him that the perfect girlfriend for him was someone older. As we all know, Aerith is one year older than Cloud.

* Tifa is one year younger than Cloud, which suggests that Cloud's mother would not have considered her an ideal match for her son.

7. Cloud and Aerith have a date in the park where they discuss Aerith's romantic past.

* Cloud never asks Tifa about her ex-boyfriends. In fact, he doesn't seem to care who she's been with.

8. Tifa is immediately jealous of Aerith and the bond she has formed so quickly with Cloud. The only reason for Tifa to be jealous is if she sees romantic interest between the two of them.

9. Cloud continually expresses concern for Aerith's safety whilst ignoring the fact that Tifa is in the same amount of danger. Cloud is also supportive when Aerith is frightened.

*By comparison, we have Cloud rudely demanding "Why'd you come along anyway?" when Tifa becomes scared before they jump from the train. The way he treats these two women is like night and day.

10. When Aerith is kidnapped, Cloud states he needs to rescue her "by all means!"

* Cloud ignores Tifa, who is drowning in her own guilt after the plate falls, and heads out to rescue Aerith with or without her.

11. Cloud braves Shinra HQ, a massive skyscraper crawling with his enemies, the most difficult quest he has faced so far, in order to rescue Aerith.

* Cloud is reluctant to rescue Tifa from Corneo because it means he will have to dress in drag.

12. Barret notices the change in Cloud when they are entering Shinra HQ, remarking that "there are times when even you fight for other people". This was said in response to Cloud's stony resolve to rescue Aerith, regardless of the risks involved.

* Barret knows that Cloud previously refused to fight for either he or Tifa without compensation.

13. Cloud mentions being Aerith's bodyguard right in front of Tifa. This is the deal he had made with Aerith, the deal where he is her protector in exchange for a date. If Cloud is bringing up his deal with Aerith, then that means he fully intends on collecting on that date with Aerith.

* Cloud never plans on any dates with just he and Tifa... ever.

14. When Tifa hears of Cloud's plans for a date with Aerith, she remarks rather harshly, "EXCUSE me." This was confirmed as a jealous outburst from Tifa when she saw them "developing their world together" and noticed the obvious "special bond" Aerith had with Cloud that was different than Tifa's bond with Cloud. Aerith's "special bond" with Cloud is clearly a romantic one or Tifa wouldn't be getting jealous.

* Aerith is **never** jealous of Tifa's bond with Cloud, which implies that she doesn't see anything romantic going on between the two of them. And, considering Aerith's ability to see inside the hearts and minds of others, this is a pretty profound statement.

15. Aerith's CG render is tied to her dream of riding the airship with Cloud. Cloud's CG render is of him just before he busts into Shinra HQ to rescue Aerith.

* Tifa's CG render is tied to her promise with Cloud.

16. When Aerith is feeling alone at Cosmo Canyon, Cloud tells her he is there for her and he wants to help.

17. Cloud and Aerith have a **second** date at the Gold Saucer. This is the default date for FFVII and is the only one being taken into consideration regarding the storyline. It is also the one date that makes sense as it is the **only** promised date within the game.

* Cloud doesn't date Tifa unless the player chooses to have him do so. In order to get the date with Tifa, the player has to play the game in a way that isn't considered "normal".

18. Cloud shows concern for Aerith when she cries over Tseng at the Temple of the Ancients.

* The night before the battle, when they are sitting under the Highwind, Tifa starts crying. And what does Cloud do? He looks away.

19. Cait Sith makes a prediction about "the affinity between Cloud and Aerith" which states that they are perfect for one another. He also predicts that they are destined to be married. Cloud makes no objections to this prediction, even if Tifa is present. Cait Sith remarks "Poor Tifa" regardless of whether Tifa is present or not.

20. It was confirmed that, despite the fact that Aerith dies, she and Cloud still have hope for a future together. Therefore, Cait Sith's prediction of Cloud and Aerith's "great future" stands firm.

21. Aerith is able to communicate with Cloud in his dreams due to her ability to speak directly to his heart. This implies a profound bond like that of soul mates.

22. Cloud tries to run after Aerith in his dream even before Sephiroth appeared and began to threaten her. This suggests that Cloud desperately did not want Aerith to leave.

23. Cloud and Aerith's lines together just before Aerith leaves are strikingly similar to those spoken in the play, Loveless, between a woman and her lover.

Cloud also first met Aerith under a sign for Loveless.

24. Cloud feels Aerith's presence in his **soul** and can hear her voice from distances so great that he could not possibly hear it with his physical senses.

This reinforces the idea that they are indeed soul mates.

* This kind of thing never occurs between Cloud and Tifa.

25. Sephiroth forces Cloud to beat Aerith and then attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith. This implies that Sephiroth knows Aerith is Cloud's weakness and being forced to harm her will cause Cloud the greatest amount of suffering.

26. When Sephiroth attempts to make Cloud kill Aerith, Cloud is able to resist Sephiroth's will. This is the **only** time in the game Cloud is able to overcome Sephiroth's mind control once he is under the evil maniac's influence.

27. When Aerith dies, Cloud holds her close and pours his heart and soul out in front of Sephiroth and everyone. He abandons his pursuit of Sephiroth and his quest to save the Planet, saying that none of it means anything to him anymore. And why? Because Aerith is gone.

* When Tifa lay dying in the Nibelheim Reactor, Cloud set her aside and went after Sephiroth. It was Tifa's teacher, Zangan, who considered her life more important than pursuing Sephiroth and it was Zangan who saved her life.

28. It was confirmed in Maiden of the Planet that Aerith's death broke Cloud's heart and he was consumed with grief over her death, blame toward himself, and hatred toward Sephiroth.

* When Cloud thought Tifa was dying, he said he was "really sad". o_0 Seriously?

29. Maiden of the Planet confirms that Aerith can hear the cries of Cloud's breaking heart. This ties her to his heart and soul once more.

30. In Maiden of the Planet, Aerith is surprised over Cloud's reaction to her death. She didn't realize how much she meant to him, which suggests that his feelings for her were not platonic in nature. After all, she knew they were friends before her death.

31. The game developers confirmed that, rather than the cliché of having a man die for the woman he loves, they decided to flip things and have a woman die for the man she loves. They also stated that they wanted to achieve an emotional impact on the player caused by seeing Cloud's pain ("feeling dazed at the gravity of the loss" caused by losing "someone you loved very much").

32. Cloud's companions come to offer him their condolences after Aerith's death. This suggests that they understand the depth of Cloud's feelings for Aerith.

33. Cloud alone is the one to put Aerith to rest at the spring. This indicates just how special Aerith was to Cloud.

34. After her death, Aerith can see that Cloud's heart is falling apart "from the sadness of losing her". Cloud is also being consumed by the "anger and hate he had for her being taken from him". And so we know Cloud considers Aerith's loss very personal: he "lost her" and she was "taken from him".

This suggest that Cloud considers Aerith an irreplaceable part of his life.

35. Even though Aerith was gone, Cloud continued to speak about her and remember her with fondness.

36. In the Lifestream, it is Aerith who guides Tifa into "Cloud's closed heart". What we can take away from this is that Aerith has access to Cloud's heart, even when it is closed to all others. Yet again Aerith is associated with Cloud's heart, just more proof that she is his soul mate.

37. Cloud promises Aerith that he will complete her mission and save the Planet she loved so well.

38. Cloud states that he is fighting to save the Planet and that one of the things he is fighting for is "a very personal memory". Since we know Cloud had promised Aerith that he would complete her mission to save the Planet, then naturally the personal element associated to his desire to save the Planet is Aerith.

39. Cloud also states that one of the reasons he is fighting is to free Aerith from Sephiroth's control: "Although she should've returned to the planet by now, something stopped her and now she's stuck...... We've got to set her free."

40. After Cloud defeats Sephiroth and is surrounded by Lifestream, he reaches toward the light with longing. Aerith reaches for him in return, both of them yearning to be reunited. In this scene, Cloud's actions clearly show that he wants to be with Aerith.

41. Earlier, Cloud told the Planet that he had come to show it everyone's wishes, including his and Aerith's. He then demanded an answer from the Planet.

While dangling from a ledge, he tells Tifa that the Planet had given him an answer to his wish: "The planet's answer... The Promised Land... I think I can find her there." If the Planet's answer to Cloud's question is that he can find Aerith in his Promised Land, then logically the question Cloud had asked of it previously was "How can I be with Aerith again? Where can I find her?" This shows two things: 1.) Cloud desperately wants to be with Aerith again, regardless of whether she is alive or dead. 2.) Cloud's Promised Land, the place where Cloud will find what makes him most happy, is associated with Aerith. And this is hardly a surprise since we already know she was the **only** person in the game who ever made him smile or laugh.

42. Cloud mentions his desire to be reunited with Aerith in his Promised Land right in front of Tifa, which makes it very clear that these two are not an item, regardless of what optional choices the player has made.

43. The lowest affection rating for Aerith in the game is 24. However, it is possible to completely eradicate all romantic interest in Tifa during the game, driving her affection rating all the way to zero.

So, there you go. These 43 facts remain regardless of what optional choices you make during the game, regardless of what optional scenes you get

(*COUGH*Highwind Scene*COUGH*), and regardless of which girl the **player** personally prefers. No matter what, Cloud is attracted to Aerith, protects her as his bodyguard, and goes on at least one date with her. No matter what, Tifa is jealous of the budding relationship between Cloud and Aerith. No matter what, Cloud and Aerith are confirmed to have a "special bond" and are predicted to be married. No matter what, Cloud is devastated over Aerith's death and one of the reasons he fights is for her. No matter what, Cloud is longing to be with Aerith at the end, reaching for her hand and asking the Planet how he can be with her again. No matter what, it is Aerith that Cloud wants to meet in his Promised Land. And, no matter what, it is impossible to use the affection rating system to eradicate all of the romantic affection between Cloud and Aerith.

Also, regardless of what optional choices you make, Cloud still makes his affection for Aerith clear right in front of Tifa. He calls himself her bodyguard in front of Tifa, bringing up a deal in which the result is Cloud dating Aerith. Cloud also doesn't object when Cait Sith offers to be the preacher at he and Aerith's wedding (even when Tifa is standing right there).

Cloud and Tifa fans like to assert that the High Affection version of the Highwind Scene is canon, even though they don't have any proof of this. They even go so far as to suggest Cloud and Tifa had sex under the Highwind, which is equally as absurd. And, yet, right after Cloud rescues Tifa from falling and they are clinging to the side of the Northern Crater, he says, right in front of her, that it is Aerith that he wants to see again in his Promised Land. And this is **after** he and Tifa supposedly confessed romantic feelings for one another (High Affection version of the Highwind Scene) and, according to rabid CloTis, had sex. If that is the case, then Cloud just used Tifa for sex, played her feelings, and dropped her like a rock.

Because it isn't Tifa that Cloud wants to be with in the place of supreme bliss (his Promised Land), it's a completely different woman (Aerith).

Also, Cloud demanded an answer from the Planet, remember? This is after he showed the Planet his wishes. His answer was that he could be with Aerith again if he could find the/his Promised Land. And so the wish he expressed to the Planet was quite obviously how he could be reunited with Aerith. This scene **also** took place after the supposed confession of love and alleged sex on pointy rocks under the Highwind. **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why would he be seeking a reunion with her confirmed "love rival"? **IF** Cloud confessed romantic feelings for Tifa under the Highwind, then why wasn't Tifa the one he states he wants to be with? Why wasn't his wish about her? And why doesn't he care about how she is feeling when he ignores her and says he wants to be with Aerith?

These scenes only make sense if you take the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene into account. If Cloud and Tifa only shared feelings of a platonic nature, then they are only friends. And Cloud doesn't come off like a cold-hearted jerk who could care less about Tifa's breaking heart. If they are only friends, then it makes perfect sense why Cloud would be seeking a reunion with Aerith again instead of wanting to be with Tifa.

In my opinion, the Low Affection version of the Highwind Scene is the one being followed throughout the rest of the game as well as the Compilation (during which Cloud and Tifa are not portrayed as being in any romantic relationship and there has been **zero** progression toward a romantic relationship between them). Not only that, but the two Highwind Scenes are merely there for replay value and nothing more. While the **player** can choose for Cloud to show romantic interest in Tifa, it doesn't change the fact that he loves Aerith. In other words, Cloud's love for Tifa is **optional**.

Cloud's love for Aerith is **not optional**.

A good example is FFX, where Tidus can show romantic interest in Rikku or Lulu. Between Rikku and Lulu, it is Lulu that seems more inclined to show interest in Tidus, but it doesn't mean that either of them were intended to be Tidus's love interest. Regardless of any optional scenes or dialogues, regardless of affections levels, Tidus still loves Yuna and they are the intended pairing. The scenes with Rikku and Lulu were simply thrown in for replay value. They don't actually mean anything in the end. It is much the same between Cloud and Tifa.

Though Cloud can date Tifa, Yuffie, or Barret instead of Aerith, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith love one another and are the intended pairing of FFVII. And, although Cloud has an optional scene with Tifa that may or may not show affection between them under the Highwind, it doesn't change the fact that Cloud and Aerith are the intended pairing of FFVII and Cloud loves Aerith regardless of any affection and/or optional scenes he might feel/share with Tifa (or anyone else).

An interesting note: Yuna is the default character for cut scenes when there is a tie, much like Aerith is the default character for the date scene at Gold Saucer, even if there is a tie between she and Tifa (or anyone else). Coincidence? I think not...

The bottom line? Cloud loves Aerith. The **player** can choose for Cloud to **also** love Tifa, but you cannot eradicate the love between Cloud and Aerith. He can love **both** Aerith and Tifa (optionally). Or he can love just Aerith. He cannot love just Tifa. This was the original intent when the game was created, regardless of the current fan-pandering stance that Square-ENIX has now taken.

One final thought in regard to Square-ENIX's fan-pandering... Throughout the Compilation and all spin-off games in which Cloud, Aerith, and Tifa appear, Cloud x Aerith gets actual solid proof while Cloud x Tifa gets fluff that seems to satisfy the fans, but doesn't actually have any true meaning to it. Want proof of that? Just read through my site... ;-)

[erbezdiez]

On your Seiya and Usagi post, you had a tag about an AU and YES I WANT TO HEAR please(:

YESSS *RUBS MY GAY LITTLE HANDS*

Click the read more because this post turned out longer than I expected but SEIUSA AU HERE WE GO

Okay, so this is basically just “The Sailor Starlights come to earth at the beginning of the series instead of in S4″ AU. In that specific scene/whatever, Fighter hears Sailor Moon screaming during her first fight and goes there to save her on pure instinct, not because she’s looking for the Silver Crystal or anything.

Honesty in my head I wouldn’t necessarily get rid of Mamoru or anything and the whole thing would kind of follow the same basic beats as the canon Sailor Moon story.

After the first fight, Fighter would get curious about Sailor Moon, and with time she’d end up aiding her too from time to time in her battles. Maybe she can even meet Tuxedo like that, when they both go to save SM at the first time or something safsadgs. Usagi would develop her crush on Tuxedo Mask while at the same time being curious about Fighter as well. Also during all this time Fighter is flirting with Sailor Moon because she’s a big lesbian and I love her, which would leave her feeling ~~confused~~.

Meanwhile, the Three Lights could serve as the standard “popular idol” like Minako does in PSSM, though I do like the idea of their popularity growing through the series exponentially.

Sometime after the senshi go meet Queen Serenity, Fighter would be aiding Sailor Moon and the others in a fight, but then get hurt herself. Then Maker and Healer can make their appearances, introducing the full group. They wouldn’t appear much more, but they would make it very clear that they’re not after the Silver Crystal so the senshi can have the whole “they’re not our allies, but they’re not our enemies either?” thing.

After the finale of S1, I like the idea of the Starlights noticing the senshi have forgotten about their identities and Figher being sad, but deciding that it’s better this way.

They could have a bigger part during the Makai Tree arc because that arc is great and I don’t care if it’s filler, where maybe they can sense something similar to Kakyuu’s light in the Makai Tree or something. Seiya and Usagi could meet while Mamoru is away as their civilian selves, and of course, Seiya falls for Usagi right away without knowing she’s Sailor Moon. Usagi however rejects him, because she’s still hoping Mamoru will return to her. When he does get his memories back and all that, Seiya stays friends with Usagi without telling her about his feelings.

And then during the Black Moon arc. Seiya could become a sort of emotional support for Usagi; she’s not sure why she likes talking to him so much, but it’s like he gets him in a way no one else does, not even her best friends. They grow especially close then Mamoru and Chibiusa go through the whole Black Lady thing. By this point, the Starlights are still focused on searching Kakyuu and only get involved in the other’s fight when they happen to be there or it’s something very serious, but they’ve become a sort of “sometime-allies we can rely on when something goes wrong”.

But then, of course, the Death Buster arc happens, and Uranus and Neptune are immediately wary of the Starlights since they’re from outside the solar system. They could go from suspecting them of working with the Death Busters, to attacking them on-sight. At the same time, Haruka meets Seiya while he’s hanging out with Usagi, and distrusts him right away. Partly because she feels “he’s just dangerous” and partly because let’s be honest she’s a bit mad that Seiya gets better reactions from Usagi than she does. Through this whole arc, Mamoru and Usagi begin to drift apart as she starts relying more on Seiya than on him, but she always denies the possibility of having romantic feelings for him, especially because she knows that Chibiusa existing at all depends on her staying with Mamoru. This however does nothing but strain their relationship even further.

Before the end of the arc, the Starlights would explain to all the senshi that they’re looking for Kakyuu, so Uranus and Neptune can stop trying to kill them for one second.

The Dead Moon arc is all about ChibiUsa and Usagi, and by this point, it’s undeniable that Usagi likes him too. Chibiusa could actually talk to Helios about this in her dreams, and how she’s actually scared Usagi will choose Seiya over Mamoru and either create a paradox or straight up kill her.

I would use Nehelenia’s motivation in this point as a way of separating the current Usagi (and by extension, Mamoru and everyone else) to their Silver Millenium selves. In Death Busters Uranus and Neptune are affected by their destiny in a positive way (they’re soulmates who can finally reunite, much like Serenity and Endymion) but in a negative way, when they think there’s no way to stop Saturn from destroying the planet. Now, when Usagi senses how much Nehelenia hated Serenity and her mother, she would feel sorry for her. Usagi had nothing to do with Nehelenia’s punishment and feels like Queen Serenity did a bad thing she can’t excuse. By creating this crack in the perfect image of the Silver Millenium, Usagi would begin to question if just because Serenity loved Endymion that means she should love Mamoru unconditionally.

And then of course, the Stars arc!! By this point, Usagi and Seiya are very close and both have feelings for the other, the Sol senshi trust the Starlights in varying degrees, and Usagi isn’t sure if she truly loves Mamoru and wants to fulfil her destiny. By the time Mamoru goes to America, he tells her they should “take a break” while they’re away so they can sort their feelings out.

I would also have Mamoru actually get to America instead of being kidnapped by Galaxia. Enjoy your education, boy!

Usagi tells Seiya rather quickly about this development, and they get even closer than before. Chibiusa hasn’t returned to the future yet, either because she senses it’s unstable or because she’s too worried about Mamoru and Usagi to leave them. She can tell Usagi that she knows how she feels about Seiya and that she’s broken up with Mamoru, and that she’s afraid of what that means for herself. For a while, Usagi starts avoiding Seiya because every time she thinks of him, she imagines Chibiusa disappearing and she can’t bear to choose between the two of them.

Then one day, Seiya gets targeted by one of Sailor Galaxia’s lackeys, and Usagi has no choice but to transform in front of him, revealing her secret identity. Seiya is surprised, but before he can say anything, Usagi runs away.

Seiya isn’t sure what to do, and she can’t even tell Taiki and Yaten about it because it would betray Usagi’s trust. One day, Seiya finds Usagi crying under the rain (or maybe the moonlight?) as she feels the weight of the whole world is in her shoulders. Seiya reaches out to Usagi, but she pushes him away when she thinks about hurting ChibiUsa. Seiya takes her hand anyways and holds it to his chest, telling her to look after her own happiness instead of the happiness of others for the first time. Usagi cries, and Seiya wipes her tears off. She then says “you were crying that time too at the jewel shop”, and Usagi isn’t sure what he means. Seiya transforms in front of her, showing her her true self.

This only makes Usagi confused for a second before she realizes that of course, it makes so much sense now. In a moment where she allows herself to think of her own happiness, she kisses Seiya.

She then rushes back home, suddenly afraid that she’s made Chibiusa disappear, but to her surprise she’s still there, alive and well. Chibiusa is suspicious of Usagi’s actions, but she leaves her be.

Shortly after this, before Seiya and Usagi have the chance to properly explore their relationship, the rest of the inner senshi have to transform in front of the Starlights (and vice-versa). By this point their relationship is much less tense than in the canon (both groups think of the other as allies, and now they’re united under the same enemy), and while Haruka still doesn’t like Seiya too much, she accepts her when Usagi defends her.

Eventually, the final battle comes, and in this version, I’d actually like Galaxia to be the villain not because Chaos corrupted her and she doesn’t have a Starseed, but because she became bitter and angry by the mere act of having to fight Chaos over and over again.

Turns out Sailor Galaxia isn’t just the most powerful Sailor Senshi of the universe; she’s the most powerful Sailor Senshi of all universes. Each time Chaos is born, she travels to that universe to destroy it. She’s been doing it since the dawn of time and is now so tired of her destiny that she just joins Chaos willingly.

So during the final battle (which honestly I’d leave almost the same because that battle is amazing), Usagi makes Galaxia see that she doesn’t need to keep on fighting just because someone decided it was her destiny. The existence of the Silver Crystal, the Golden Cyrstal and Kakyuu prove that Chaos can be fought against by other people, and that she’s already done more than enough. By realizing this, Galaxia lets go of Chaos, and by joining forces with Sailor Moon (and maybe with all senshi there present, even if it’s in spirit form), they manage to destroy Chaos.

I didn’t mention her anywhere else but ChibiChibi is here! And in this version, she actually is Sailor Cosmos, who’s awakened after Chaos disappears. She tells Usagi and Galaxia that Cosmos and Chaos will always be in battle, but that as long as people don’t let it consume her, peace will reign through all universes.

So the peace is restored, and the Starlights have to go back to Kakyuu. All senshi share a farewell in the school building, where Seiya struggles to let of Usagi and she has to try her best not to beg her to stay. Mamoru (who was captured during the final battle but is OK now) notices how Usagi hasn’t looked at him the way she looks at Seiya in years, and catches up very quickly. Seiya says that going back to restore her planet with Kakyuu is her duty, to which Usagi can’t say anything, because she feels she too has a duty to fulfil on earth.

But as they’re flying off into space, Yaten Taiki and Kakyuu tell Seiya that she’s already done more than enough. Seiya looks at them for a moment, when Usagi breaks down and cries, begging her to stay. Seiya leaves the space teleportation whatever the Starlights were using and jumps towards Usagi, who only barely manages to catch her. Everyone laughs and they kiss.

Later, they discuss whether or not this changes their destiny, since Chibiusa has never seen Seiya in the future. Setsuna could then explain that they may as well have created a new universe where nothing is set in stone, and that their future is now in their hands.

----

...And that’s that!! SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG asfshkgjhdfgksd. I know this fandom is very small so if anyone wants to idk expand on this idea or change anything or use it for something please go ahead!!! More seiusa content is always welcome. I hope you enjoyed this really long read!

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1.2K~

Summary: Amidst their danger-fraught mission to retrieve Pyrope and Demantoid’s prisms, Pearl and Steven take a much needed break.

Finished playing Unleash the Light again the other day, and had some philosophical musings about it, which lead to this. XD There’s not many fics about this game that I’m aware of, so thought it would be fun to throw one of my own in the ring.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

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Another key. Another lead on Demantoid’s whereabouts. Another hard battle won.

Pearl expected they’d meet some resistance from the prisms’ light constructs when they first arrived on the glittering, indigo-hued surface of Crystal System Colony 215, but she certainly didn’t imagine having to fight so many. Using her spear as a crutch, she slowly lowers her exhausted body to the ground, eager to take a short rest from their journey. She leans her head back against the rocks and sighs. Stars… there’s so much more diversity in their forms and attack strategy now. In their last two major outings with these sorts of light constructs, they were considerably weakened. Disorganized. But now, with two prisms working side by side once again, she’s beginning to recall why these tools were so feared by her comrades during the war. Running at their prime, they’re savvy. Self-regenerating. Able to clue into combatant’s weaknesses. Capable of multiplying into armies that can effortlessly eclipse a whole battalion of Crystal Gem soldiers. Good Gems were shattered on those battlefields.

In truth, reflecting upon those matters, she sorely wishes Steven wasn’t a part of this mission at all. He’s more than capable of holding his own in a fight, yes, but… in the most ideal of circumstances, that gentle soul should have nothing to do with the messy afterimages of his mother’s rebellion.

Her gaze lifts towards the sky for a moment, dark hazy purple and speckled with stars. How far they’ve traveled, she muses, how fervently they’ve fought… all in defense of this new era. In many ways it’s a miracle what they’ve created in just a year’s time, which is why she was unsurprised to learn of the aristocratic holdovers unwilling to voluntarily give up their seats of power. Still, they haven’t failed in their creed yet. As long as one Crystal Gem stands to brandish the star, the spirit of Era 3 is alive and well.

Just as she’s beginning to hum a peaceful melody to herself, basking in the gentle glow of the surrounding cosmos, she notices Steven making his way into the clearing, alone. Hmm. All the others are probably back at the cave entrance, busy strategizing for the next stretch of their mission. What led him to step away, though? Was he following her, or did he also crave a similar peace and quiet?  

The boy’s pace is sluggish, seemingly suffering from a similar (though undoubtedly more human) brand of exhaustion she herself feels, and his hands are shoved stiff in his pockets. He still wears that novelty backpack, but the prism they’ve befriended is nowhere to be seen. Interesting. Normally, George peeks his head out of the main zipper pouch as they journey. Perhaps he elected to stay and discuss strategy with the others instead. Regardless though, and as she feared, Steven appears considerably drained by their recent experiences. She watches as he clambers towards the rock formation across from her and gradually sinks into a seated position.

“Steven?” she asks, slowly pulling herself to her feet to cross over to him. “Are you holding up all right?”

He replies with just a noncommittal shrug at first, his expression void of any immediately recognizable emotion. Then, unzipping the cheese pocket of his backpack, he retrieves his water bottle and takes a long, long drink. He holds a single finger up as he rehydrates, signaling for her to wait.

Finally, after draining almost half the bottle, he caps the top again and opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m okay,” he says, wiping his lips dry with the back of his hand. “What about you? This… probably doesn’t bring back a lot of great memories, huh?”

“No,” she agrees with a wry smile. “Not really. That’s all right, though. We have more than enough strength on our side this time."

First taking a knee, she moves to sit next to him, folding her legs to the side. The boy shoots her a slightly quizzical glance, but doesn’t offer anything more. Pearl frowns.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks after a brief pause, brows creasing. “It looks like something’s bothering you.”

Steven purses his lips tight, blankly staring straight ahead as the gears in his head whir.  

“It’s—“ he starts, and hugs his knees to his chest. “It’s probably stupid, I don’t know, I guess I’m just… how are all these light constructs any different from us? We’ve had to fight dozens of them today, and… I know that probably shouldn’t eat at me, but it does. I don’t want to have to fight them. We literally have the same history! Diamonds make Gems,” he counts off on his fingers, “and Gems make prisms, and prisms make light— when do all these cycles stop? When does everyone finally get to stop fighting and be free? George found his freedom, so- so why not them?”

She folds her fingers together, roughly wringing them against one another as she considers the moral quandary he proposes. Admittedly it’s a truth she never committed much thought to back amidst the atrocities of the war— the fact that all of them… Gems, prisms, and constructs alike… are hewn from the very same hard light. They’re all programmed, made with distinct purpose. Thus, how far of a leap would it really be to suggest that they all possess some form of sentience? Some form of free will? Before meeting George, she didn’t think prisms were capable of such individual thinking, but they are. This universe is full of strange wonders.

So what else could she be wrong about?

She offers a thin, apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I don’t have any solid answers for you, but… you strike a valid point. Perhaps all of us aren’t so different.”

“D’ya really think so?” he says, his eyes glimmering with stars, seemingly overjoyed to have convinced her of this.

She gives a short chuckle, reaching out a slender hand to ruffle his hair. “You’ve long since shown me that anything’s possible.”

The boy grins at her affectionate touch, appearing far more relaxed now than when he first sat down. Good. If they’re gonna succeed in retrieving these last two prisms, they’ll need him in high spirits. His encouragement, healing powers, and support has been paramount to this mission so far. In the far distance Amethyst’s laughter rings, reminding her both of the Gems she loves, and the trials they’ve yet to face together. To be honest, she has no way of guessing how many battles they have left to fight. But… regardless of outcome… there is one possibility that’s always worth striving for. Gently, she rests her hand upon Steven’s shoulder.

“Listen…” she says softly, “I don’t know how successful we’d be reasoning with the light constructs directly, but if you ever sense a good moment to try and settle this issue with Demantoid and Pyrope peacefully, I want you to take that chance, all right? For everyone’s sake.”

Steven nods in full seriousness, taking her words to heart.

A faint smile dusts her lips as she pulls the young teen closer, allowing him to nestle his head against her chest like he always used to do when he was but a kid. “And for the record? You’re definitely not the only one who’s tired of fighting.”