#let us know if any good pride tags we missed exist

[moonpool-system]

Solidarity between plurals and ANY person with schizophrenia & other schizospec disorders, psychotic disorders, delusional & hallucinatory experiences or disorders, etc. The recent hate is NOT representative of the wider plural community; WE STAND WITH YOU. Neurodiversity is a spectrum and nobody should be written off or used as degrading insults. We both don't deserve that. To the sanism of the world, we're all the same and they're keen to dismiss us based on their assumptions of us. We are in this together. WE WON'T BACK DOWN TO THIS!

Extra shoutout to the people above that are ALSO plural. The intertwining of how things work is something that only the person experiencing it will understand the most, and it's okay to be separately plural or for your neurodiversities to interact with each other.

We're ALLOWED to exist. We are NOT your punchline. We are NOT your insult. We are REAL and deserve to be treated that way. Let's make sure they don't forget it.

If anyone on the spectrums above see this, please feel free to reblog and add to this, since we're only coming at it from a plural side of things and we don't know much. We want to stand with you but your voices are most important.

[ink-flavored]

Make The Word Tag

tagged by @void-botanist, thank you!

Rules: Using the 3 random words given to you, you have to write a scene either using all 3 words in one scene OR write three separate scenes using each word separately.

Sicne this got a little long, I'll tag everyone right up top.

Your words are: organ, jump, cold

Tagging: @foxys-fantasy-tales @noblebs @vacantgodling @taranorma @sigridhawke @ink-enchanted @hallwords @leahnardo-da-veggie @rachaellawrites @wintherlywords @ettawritesnstudies and anyone else who wants to write something!

My words were: volcano, heaven, and means, and I wrote the following scene(s) for P&J!

~

The awkward silence grew exceptionally long. Pride stared at a stain on the wall, pretending to wonder where it came from. He didn’t know why he was still sitting there, listening to Justice sniffle into a tissue an arm’s length away, but couldn’t force his body to move. All his muscles clenched, waiting in suspense for permission to slink off the couch and forget this ever happened.

“Thank you,” Justice suddenly mumbled.

Pride almost jumped. “For what?”

“For listening, I guess.” He crumpled the used tissue in his fist, staring down at it with a wet smile. “I can’t really talk to humans about this, so.”

“You probably could. Just don’t say you’re homesick for Heaven. Let people fill in the rest themselves.”

Justice scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, I’m not a good liar.”

“It’s not lying, technically.”

“Sure, but it feels better to be able to tell the truth.” He gestured between them, the empty cushion on the couch even more exaggerated. “To talk to someone who gets it.”

“I don’t.”

Pride’s mouth answered so quickly he didn’t have time to think about what it said. Justice blinked his puffy eyes, taken-aback.

“What… do you mean?” he ventured.

“I’m not homesick,” Pride said. “I don’t miss anywhere, really.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t miss anyone?”

Pride snorted. Justice would never know how funny that question was. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. Hell sucked ass and I’m glad I’ll never be able to go back.”

“Oh.”

Justice sat back on the couch, confusion overtaking the homesickness that Pride discovered mere minutes ago. The longer he sat there, eyes far away in thought, the more a suspicion grew in Pride’s mind. A suspicion that seemed completely ridiculous.

“You don’t think demons actually like it in Hell,” he said, “do you?”

Justice turned to him and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they?”

It was, perhaps, the dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. If he didn’t have his horns safely tucked away, he’d assume he was getting high off his own demonic fumes. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I don’t know anything about Hell, and you lived there, so—”

“’Lived there’? I existed there. I survived, barely.”

Justice looked as astonished as he felt. “But—why? Didn’t Lucifer create it for you?”

That was the second dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. “I fell with Lucifer. Hell was waiting for us—it existed before we ever got there.”

The silence was not awkward this time. It was electrified with unspoken questions. Pride spun through a dozen different ones—mostly consisting of What the fuck? in different volumes—and watched Justice silently spin through a dozen more. When it seemed like neither of them would ever speak again, Pride blurted out the first thing that landed on his tongue.

“Is that what they teach you about us?” he asked.

It was Justice’s turn to snort. “Most of that was my own guesses. Heaven doesn’t teach us anything beyond the basics.”

Pride didn’t need an elaboration past that—he could figure out for himself what “basics” an angel in the army of God would learn about a demon. That they were singularly focused on bringing down Heaven, by any means necessary.

“Things have definitely changed,” he mused.

“Changed how?”

“Back when I fell, all anybody could talk about was Lucifer’s rebellion, and how crazy it was that demons existed.” Pride stretched his arms over his head in perverse satisfaction. “I guess being the new kids on the block meant more back then.”

Justice didn’t share his enthusiasm, watching him gently. “You were part of the rebellion?”

“Oh, sure. I even had a hand in planning it.”

“Really.”

It was a bluff that almost no one would be able to check him on, especially not Justice, so Pride plastered on his favorite smug smile. “Really. No big deal.”

Justice didn’t look totally convinced—not that Pride needed him to be—but nodded along. “I can see why you wouldn’t miss Hell. Plus everything else.”

Pride just made a noise, pretty done with the conversation. Reliving his very, very short glory days aside, there was little else he had to say. Homesickness was as foreign to him as humanity. Earth was slightly better than Purgatory. It was a hundred times better than Hell, not that Hell was a very high bar. So to be honest, there was nothing else Pride had to say about this.

“Do you miss Heaven, then?”

He froze. All feeling drained out of his body until he was cold, still, and strained. He forced his mind blank so he wouldn’t think of anything.

When he didn’t respond, Justice tried again. “I know it’s been a while, but you were an ang—”

“If you finish that sentence, your teeth go out with it.”

Pride jumped off the couch, rattling with the desire to go somewhere, anywhere else. He planted his feet, eyes spinning around the room. His tail lashed around his ankles, appearing out of thin air. Thick, black smoke poured from his horns like the mouth of a volcano.

“I—I’m sorry,” Justice tried. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t miss Heaven,” Pride snarled. “I never fucking liked it there to begin with, and as far as your kind are concerned, I was never one of you.”

His nerves snapped into motion and his legs carried him away. Pride didn’t care where he was going, barely noticed his hand reaching out the door, could hardly see the outside world through the scarlet haze covering his eyes.

Someone was going to sin tonight. Badly.

[flightlessangelwings]

His Hers and His- A Messy Pile of Affection story

Frankie Morales x fem!reader x Benny Miller

Word count- 2.3k

Prompts- “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” and the rainbow photo in the moodbard

Warnings- canon compliant (takes place during and after the movie), bisexual mmf thruple, established relationship, mention of canon character death, light angst, lots of fluff, mostly fluff honestly lol, focuses a lot of Frankie and Benny, nondescript s.mut, happy ending, no use of y/n

Notes- MPOA IS BACK!!! I’ve been wanting to write this one for over a year at this point and I figure my pride celebration was the perfect opportunity to finally do it!! This is written so that it can be read on its own but also follows the mpoa storyline. Fic is tagged if you’ve missed previous parts and want to go back and read it all! This is one of the fics I’m the most proud of overall and I’m so attached to this truple!! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog so feel free to also follow and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

Moodboard by me!

~

“Are you sure about this baby?” Frankie asked, the anguish apparent in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you exhaled deeply. Your hands trembled.

“We can’t turn this down, baby,” Benny chimed in, “It’s getting the boys back together and one hell of a payday! You know I’m in.”

You looked between them with wide eyes. When the text from Santiago came in late last night, both Frankie and Benny knew how good an opportunity this was. A simple recon mission with a big payout, it should have been a no brainer. And Benny was eager to reply with a yes. But, Frankie seemed more reserved, more tormented over it. You and Benny were his entire life now, and Frankie didn’t want to put any of that in jeopardy. He couldn’t lose Benny… or you…

“I trust you guys,” you finally broke the silence. Frankie could tell you weren't happy about them going, but you also weren’t going to be the one to decide for them, “Just,” you sighed, “Look after each other, ok?” you kissed each of their cheeks, “And both of you betting fucking come back to me.”

Benny grinned widely, “You got it, babe.”

Frankie’s smile didn’t quite reach his face as he wrapped both you and Benny in his arms, “I’ll watch over him,” he kissed you both, “I promise.”

*

“Oh shit I’m gettin’ a Ferrari!” Benny shouted with excitement as he dug through the open walls and pulled out handfuls of cash.

The rest of the guys worked quickly to gather as much of the stash as they could in the short amount of time, and were always alert to any sudden changes within the house.

But Frankie couldn’t help but pause and watch over Benny for a short moment. The pure excitement that was almost childish made his heart flutter, and Frankie glanced around, making sure the area was secure before he lowered his gun more. 

Benny felt his boyfriend’s gaze on him, and he turned around with a big grin on his face, “Baby,” he got Frankie’s attention, “We’re all getting Ferraris,” Benny darted across the room, dropping the money in his hands in favor of cupping Frankie’s face.

Before Frankie could react, Benny placed a big, passionate kiss on his lips. The whole world seemed to stop for a moment, and as their lips connected, it was just the two of them. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, just Frankie and Benny, two thirds of a trio that was unstoppable.

“His, hers, and his Ferraris,” Benny murmured against Frankie’s lips before he kissed him again.

“We gotta get home first,” Frankie whispered back as his eyes fluttered open. His heart skipped a beat as he looked into Benny’s eyes as saw all the passion, all the emotions, all the joy written plainly across his face.

“Yeah,” Benny agreed as he took a small step back, bringing them both back to reality, “Let’s get back to our girl.”

“Are you assholes done yet?” Santiago’s voice broke them out of their trance, “In case you forgot, we’re still in the middle of a mission here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Benny mumbled, “Don’t be jealous, Pope.”

“Ay dios mio,” he mumbled as he went back to gathering the bags of cash.

But, as quickly as things turned up for the boys, everything went sideways. WIll got shot. The family came home. Guards ran through the house. Everything seemed to crash down around them as Frankie, Benny, and the rest of the crew found themselves in the middle of the rainforest, stuck until the storm passed.

They all settled in a ditch for as much cover as they could get and settled in for the night. Frankie and Benny hardly left the other’s side throughout the escape, and it was only to check on his older brother that Benny broke away. He handed Will an apple with a soft smile on his face.

“You’re a good man, Benny,” Will groaned softly through the pain, “Frankie and your girl are both lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, man,” Benny blushed as he looked down on the ground, flustered for a moment. But, he picked his head back up and looked back at Frankie, who sat on the other side of him with a shit-eating grin, “You hear that, Frankie?” Benny snarked, “You’re fuckin’ lucky to have me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie waved his hand, “Don’t let it go to your head,” he snickered.

But, the playfulness melted away quickly as Frankie looked at Benny, grateful they were both still alive. And Benny’s expression matched Frankie’s as his thoughts mirrored his boyfriend’s. Benny inched himself closer and slid his hand in Frankie’s as he rested his head on his shoulder. Frankie gave his hand a soft squeeze, an unspoken promise to both Benny and to you.

I’ll watch over him… Frankie’s own words echoed in his head.

“You know,” Benny broke the silence after a few moments, “I was thinking of something else we could get with our money.”

“What’s that?” Frankie asked.

Benny picked up his head and grinned brightly at Frankie, “Rings.”

Frankie’s mouth dropped open and his heart pounded in his chest, “His, hers and his rings?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Benny nodded, “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” He paused, “Or we could hyphenate them. Or her last name and your last name. Or all three and make up something new… I don’t give a fuck!” he chuckled, “I just want to be married to both of you.”

Frankie let out a mock gasp, “I always imagined this was how you’d ask me, Ben,” he laughed.

“Man shut the fuck up,” Benny playfully nudged Frankie.

“But yes,” Frankie whispered as he pulled Benny closer, “I want that too… To marry you both,” he placed a soft, sweet kiss on Benny’s lips, “But first, let’s get back to our girl.”

Benny nodded as he settled against Frankie’s body, relaxing in his strong, comforting embrace, “Yeah.”

*

You paced your bedroom nervously. It had been almost a week since you heard from Frankie and Benny, and with every passing hour, you were more and more scared that you’d never see them again. You couldn’t focus on work, you barely slept, hardly ate… All your time was consumed with worry. The nights that you were able to sleep a little were only after you cried yourself to exhaustion.

“Come back to me, guys,” you whispered to your pillow that their scent barely clung to anymore, “You fucking promised me,” your tears turned angry for a moment as you emotions overwhelmed you. 

It was the middle of the night when your phone finally rang. You jumped out of a dreamless sleep and immediately picked up without even looking at the screen, “Frankie?! Benny?!” you gasped.

“Hey baby,” Frankie’s voice immediately soothed you.

“We’re alive, sweetheart,” Benny’s voice sounded more distant, as if Frankie was the one holding the phone and Benny was right next to him.

“Fuck,” you breathed as tears of relief spilled from your eyes before you could stop them, “Holy shit, guys I’ve been fucking worried sick! What happened? Where are you?” you couldn’t help the outburst of emotions after finally hearing their voices after so long.

“We’re ok, baby,” Frankie tried to calm you, and it killed both of them that they couldn’t hold you and tell you that everything was fine.

“Shit went bad,” Benny sounded more serious for once, “But we’re ok.”

“What…?” you tried to ask but your boys interrupted.

“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time,” Benny said, “We just wanted to call you and tell you we're ok.”

“We have a flight out tomorrow,” Frankie spoke next, “We’ll see you soon, baby. Promise.”

For the first time in over a week, you finally felt hope again. You felt like things were alright. Your boys were coming home. You could hold them again, kiss them again. You weren’t going to be alone in your large bed anymore.

“Love you, baby,” Benny’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“We love you so fucking much,” Frankie echoed.

“I love you both too,” you wiped away a tear and you sniffled, “Just get back to me ok? And take care of each other, and the guys too.”

*

You wrung your hands together as you stood in the airport. Never had you felt more nervous, and never had time felt like it dragged on than it did in that moment. You stared at the screen, watching for any change on the boy’s flight.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself, “Of course it’s delayed.”

Every minute without Frankie and Benny felt like an eternity, and like a stab to your heart. You wished you had never let them go on this mission, but you also knew you couldn’t deny them that if their minds were set. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them or anything… you were scared. You were terrified. And for a few long days, you were worried your worst fears were about to come true.

It wasn’t until you saw the board change that their plane landed that you finally let out a heavy breath.

No airport reunion held more emotions than when you saw Frankie and Benny walk through the terminal. You gasped as you felt like you were dreaming. They looked tired, like they had been through hell. But, as they walked hand in hand, their faces lit up when they saw you.

All three of you bolted towards each other, and you erupted into a pile of sobs and mumbles and kisses the moment you were close enough. You all wrapped your arms around each other, holding each other as tight as you possibly could. Kisses echoed between the three of you in your little huddle as you all let out sighs of relief in between incoherent mumbles of how grateful you all were to be together again.

“I was so worried, you guys,” you sobbed, “I thought… I thought I might never see you again,” you buried your face on one of their shoulders.

“We told you we’d come back to you, baby,” Frankie murmured.

“We went through shit,” Benny kissed your temple, “But we’re back. We’re here.”

You looked back and forth between your boys, “You’re never fucking allowed to do that again, you hear me!” Soft laughter erupted between the three of you as the tension melted away. “Come on,” you took both their hands, “Let’s go home.” The three of you reunited at last… the world felt like it started to turn again, like the stars were bright in the sky, like food had a taste again… everything was ok now. 

“Home…”

*

That first night was filled with tears and sorrow as Frankie and Benny told you what happened and why they were delayed getting home. You cried with them, holding Benny as he told you what happened to Tom. You knew they went through a lot, and they both were changed men because of it.

But, after a few days, the boys told you they wanted to show you something. Fully trusting them, you let them take you into the car, not knowing where you were going. It didn’t take you long, however, to realize where you were as they pulled into the lake that held a special place in all your hearts.

The sun was out and the fields were a lush green. And, a soft rainbow lit up the skyline in the background, making it the perfect setting. You let out a deep sigh as you remembered the night here that changed all three of your lives forever. This was the place where Frankie told you and Benny that he loved you both for the first time. This was the place where your relationship completely changed for the better.

“What are we doing here?” you asked as you stepped out of the car.

“Well,” Benny sighed as he looked at Frankie, who nodded at him, “We wanted to ask you something…”

“And this is as good a place as ever,” Frankie added with a smile.

Before you could ask what it was, both boys dropped down to their knees, and you let out the loudest gasp as you covered your face. Tears immediately formed in your eyes as Frankie and Benny said your name.

“Will you marry us?” they asked in unison as they opened a simple container.

Inside were three plain rings. Nothing extravagant, not even a small diamond set on any of them. They were just three simple bands that Benny and Frankie picked up from a street vendor before they left. 

“Guys…” you sobbed as they stared at you with pleading eyes, waiting for your answer, “Yes!” you launched yourself at them, toppling all three of you to the ground.

The boys broke out into laughter as you three turned into a tangle of limbs, clumsily trying to hold onto each other as best you could. Frankie was able to reach out and grab the box they dropped and he sat up first, slipping the rings on your finger then Benny’s. Benny’s face was bright as the sun as he took the box and slid the last ring on Frankie’s finger.

“It’s not the rings we hoped for,” Frankie admitted softly, “But…”

“It’s perfect,” you cut him off as you cupped his face, “You’re both perfect,” you turned to Benny and did the same.

“Let’s go home,” Benny said.

The three of you piled back into the car, the mood completely different than before. You all were giddy and happy and excited for the next chapter in your lives. And that excitement carried into the bedroom where you laid tangled in each other for hours. At times, you didn’t know who was inside who as the three of you made love in every position you could. You all were just too desperate to be connected, to feel each other, that it didn’t matter.

Once the three of you were completely spent, you all collapsed into a tangle of sweaty, naked limbs. Heavy breaths filled the room as you all sprawled out across each other. And it was perfect. It was how you three were meant to be. You, Frankie and Benny, together in your messy pile of affection.

[whirlybirbs]

FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good. 

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling. 

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details. 

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel. 

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch. 

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot. 

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 

Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?” 

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.” 

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬:  Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦:  psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

My previous account was deleted so I’ll be posting the stories again. I’ll be changing this one, so yeah.

Inform me if y’all wanna be tagged!

As the Winter Soldier entered the house, his instincts kicked in. The house was too quiet for his liking. He kept the bags on the sofa and started climbing up the stairs towards your bedroom. Oh, how much he loved you. You had never left his side, not when he lost his arm, not when the guilt became too much to live with and he cried his eyes out near you while you said sweet nothings into his ears. He wanted to keep you by side always, he wasn’t ever letting you go. Soon he was going to ask you to leave your job and stay at home looking after him and Iris.  

He couldn’t stand to see the tired look in your eyes, how you managed everything, your job, your kid, the house and most importantly him. In the beginning he was afraid you wouldn’t love him, that you would only love Bucky, but you loved him just as much; though you were unaware that he existed in Bucky. Bucky was an idiot to let you roam free and be away from him, especially when the world is filled with cruel people. He was a fool to let you be friends with Thor or any man in general. You were only his and Bucky’s. He was Bucky only, but he was much stronger and capable than Bucky. He was the one who would protect you, not Bucky. The Soldat loved you much more than Bucky ever could.  

As he opened the door, he noticed you were in the bathroom. As he entered inside, for a second even he was shocked. You were sitting with your legs folded and staring wide eyed at his computer. He noticed you were watching his files and videos and you were so dumbstruck that you didn’t even notice him standing at the door.  

But seeing you watch him do the deed sent a weird wave of pride through him. He wasn’t ever going to tell you any of this, after all it was highly confidential and your life could have been jeopardized. But seeing you now, watching his skilled work with awe, made his chest swell with pride. He deserved to get his work appreciated by his wife; after all, he had put sweat and blood in it, and you weren't even aware, but not anymore. What he failed to notice was that it wasn’t awe on your face, it was unadulterated fear.  

He could clearly see as your eyes filled with tears and you pressed a hand on your face. He knew you were scared, but he would tell you not to be. For you, there was nothing to be afraid of him. As you started to puke, he went and held your hair in one hand while with the other he quietly shushed you. The last thing he wanted was to see you suffer. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe from the world, not hurt you.  

After you emptied your stomach, you slouched besides the toilet and huffed loudly. The tears from your eyes weren't stopping. “Peeking in other people’s stuff ain’t a good habit, doll.” he said calmly as he folded his hands while leaning against the door frame.  

Your eyes widened when you realized that it was Bucky shushing you all this while. But why would he do that, now that you had found his secret. Maybe he was being merciful before killing you. Wait, he was going to kill you!!! You had seen top secret information and there was no going back. You averted your gaze from him as you stared at the laptop. Another video of Bucky’s murders running on it.  

You couldn't exactly make out what the video was as your eyes were filled with unshed tears. “He had a big ass fence and four huge dogs guarding the house. But well, all dogs can be lured by treats.” he said shrugging as if he was talking about your neighbors' dogs and not of the person he had killed. And you realized he regretted nothing; he was talking about murdering people with pride rather than guilt.  

“Make it quick.” your voice was barely audible as pathetic sobs escaped your eyes. The Winter Soldier titled his head in confusion, “And what made you think that I’m going to kill you?” you looked up at him with even more fear. “I wasn’t supposed to see all this. And I’ve seen enough movies and read enough books to know what happens when you see stuff you aren't supposed to.” you shivered violently at the thought.  

The Soldier chuckled dryly “You are right, if they know that you’ve seen all this, then they wouldn’t bat an eyelid in executing you. But... who is going to tell them? Not me for sure. I just need one promise, you aren't ever going to tell this to anyone, no matter what, no matter whose life is at stake. You are going to pretend you never saw any of this. Delete all this from your brain right now!” he ordered.

His commanding voice sent shivers down your spine, “I promise, I promise not to tell anyone....... I'm sorry, please.” you had no idea for what you were apologizing or pleading for. “It's okay.” he said with a faint smile as he picked you up gently and you wondered whether it was the same man capable of killing people in the blink of an eye. As you quietly sat on the bed, you dared not look at him; he on the other hand was lovingly staring at you.

You wanted to tell him to give up this job and start anew, but you knew this wasn't the right timing. “Don't worry, I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to do anything. Just sign your resignation and I'll turn it in. You'll be safe in this house. You don't even have to ever leave it. The hospital doesn’t even pay you enough for your handwork.”

You looked at Bucky with shock and betrayal, you absolutely adored your work. You wouldn’t ever give up being a surgeon and saving lives. You had spent years trying to reach where you were today, and you loved doing what you did. How could Bucky ever say something like that. He was always so supportive but well, he wasn’t the same Bucky he once was.

“You wouldn’t ever meet any other man. Doll, you don't know how this world is, there are lunatics, murderers and all kinds of bad people. But I’ve vowed to keep you safe and I will. Just don’t, just don’t stop loving me.”  

“You are joking right? You don’t mean that... do you?” You asked unsure of his words. “Why would I joke about this?” Your heart beat so loudly that you knew he heard it. To keep you inside your house like a prisoner, had he lost his mind? You enjoyed your freedom more than anything. And at that exact moment you realized that Bucky had utterly and completely lost his sanity.

“You can’t do that! I love my job and I’m not resigning anytime soon. I have friends for Christ’s sake. I have a goddamn life James! What the hell do you mean I won’t see any other men?” You lost your cool. Enough was enough. He couldn’t control your life; you wouldn’t let him.

You took a deep breath; you didn’t want him to misinterpret your next words and ignore you. “James, I believe it should be the other way around. I think it’s time you drop being a hit man. It’s not safe...” at your words he tilted his head and squinted his eyes. But still you continued, “It’s clearly dangerous. The things you’re doing, they could jeopardize all our lives, you, me, Iris. And the way you kill...” you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“It’s not safe for your mental health too. Look Buck, you think I don’t know, but I know you secretly cry at night. You feel guilty, so just stop now. We’ll work it through before it’s too late.” You said while rubbing his arm.

“Think about Rissie, she misses her dad so much when you are gone. Maybe take a job where you won’t have to leave and you can be with her so much more. Also... the lives that you’ve... umm.... they are taking a toll on you. You are not present with us anymore Buck, you stare off and don’t give a shit as to what we say. And it’s not just me that notices. You get irritated so quickly, it’s difficult Bucky. But it can all change if you want, Buck.”

Soldat’s talented ears ignored every word you said and only paid attention to the fact that you care about him so much. He doubted that you would get hysterical knowing what he did, but instead you were worried for him. You were ready to forgive him. He was the luckiest bastard.  

You saw his love-struck expression and you knew he wants listening to you. “Bucky...!!??? Listen to what I’m saying! Leave that goddamn job!” You lost your cool and yelled at him.

“Do you know why I took that job? They gave me a chance! They gave me my arm back. I would’ve hated being a burden to you and now look, I’m capable to taking care of you. You don’t understand, I can’t leave that job. They gave birth to me.” Your heart ached at his words.

“Bucky, nothing matters if I’m gonna lose you...!!! You are all that matters. And working for Hydra hasn’t fixed you; it had broken you even more. I miss my Bucky. Please, ple....”

At your words, the Winter Soldier snapped his head towards you, “What did you say? Huh, you miss who?” You narrowed your eyes and you couldn’t quite get the meaning of his words. “What? I said I missed Buck, you were so sweet not controlling, I just...” you stopped talking seeing the deadly expression on his face.

“That idiot Bucky is not going to save you! It’s me! I’m the one who will keep you safe. I love you so much more than Bucky ever has. Don’t you understand. Bucky is weak and he is not coming back.” You winced at his cruel words.

“James, you are the Soldat right now? You.... you need help.” You stuttered. At your words Soldat lost his cool, couldn’t you understand and accept his love for you. He raised his flesh arm and slapped you across the face. What was in Bucky that wasn’t in him. He was right, you only loved him as you thought it was Bucky; you didn’t love the Soldat. But he was Bucky, too right?

“Bucky!!!” You held your stinging cheek. You might have tolerated his words but how dare he hit you? You weren’t the one going to sit back and take his shit. In the heat of the moment, you slapped him back. “How dare you?” you screamed at him. He just closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he knew he had messed up big time. The Soldat was scared of one thing: your anger and resentment in him. He hated when he upset you.

“James enough is enough. I’ve had too much of your shit! All I try to do is support you and care for you. I literally handle this house, a job, I look after Rissie, and I take care of you like you are a child. Not once have I ever complaint.

James, I love you so much, but it’s so taxing! Love is not supposed hurt; it’s not supposed to be one sided. I try everything I can to help you. But you? You just don’t care! All you do is come up with stupider excuses. Keeping me home? Making me leave my job? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shook your head and pinched your nose.

“Look James, I can’t do this anymore. I think we should take a break. We both need to breathe. We need to take a look at things from a different perspective....” before you could continue, he snapped.

On moment you were trying to talk some sense into him and the next you were pinned to the wall with his metal arm squeezing the life out of you. Your eyes widened and you desperately tried to breathe, but he had blocked your windpipe. “Jame...” you couldn’t even continue your sentence.

The Soldat was furious. How could you? How could you suggest that he leave you? You didn’t need a break, you needed him. Only him. And he was going to prove it to you. He wouldn’t let you leave. You started banging your hands on his arm but it was of no use. His eyes were dead, like in the videos. And that scared you more.

Finally, your arms gave out and you were on the verge of passing out. Yet that didn’t stop him, he was a madman with a point to prove. But then a small blood vessel burst open in your left cheek. And when Bucky noticed that, he came back to his senses.

He quickly left his grip and ran back, bumping into the bed. You sagged back down the wall, wheezing. For minutes or for hours you couldn’t tell, you both didn’t dare move. You were shivering and sobbing. And he was contemplating everything, how could he?

He wasn’t the Winter Soldier right now, he was Bucky. Why did the Soldat had to ruin everything? He was fine till it was limited to killing, but ruining his marriage. What could he ever possibly do to make up to you?

Bucky was the first one to speak up, “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I... that wasn’t me; or maybe that was. I don’t know. I’m so confused. You were right, I shouldn’t have joined Hydra. I... I don’t know what to say, what to do.... ,,.... please say something, don’t stay quiet. Please.!” He pleaded with tears in his eyes.

“Tell me, tell me what shall I say so that you wouldn’t snap.” Your voice was hoarse and it was hurting to even say one sentence. “You are right, we should give each other space.” His heart broke to million pieces, but he knew it was right. The Soldat could come back any moment and he was too unstable to stay with you and Rissie.

“I’ll... uhmm.. I’ll leave. I can come here for an hour everyday till...” he suggested. “Please, please don’t. You are too scary. Think about Iris. Just go to Rachel, you’ve denied it for too long and look at us. If she says you are stable enough, come back anytime. But... not before.” Rachel was your friend and an excellent psychiatrist. “Oh, okay. Forgive me please. I’m sorry...”

“Leave please!” You quietly observed as he picked up his duffel bag, which was packed all the time for emergency, and left the room. You got up and followed him, all while thinking of the beautiful moments you shared with Bucky. “Goodbye.” He said and you nodded as he left the house in his car.

“Umm, are you okay? I was worried, I don’t mean to pry. I just heard some commotion.” Sam said as he entered your front yard. Sam was neighbor and a dear friend. He had moved in soon after you had. But you had known each other much before that. He used to frequently visit your hospital with one reason or another. You guessed he had a thing for one of the nurses but he never agreed. He was a light hearted person and you enjoyed his company.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern.” you tried your best to smile. His eyes quickly went to the bruises on your neck. “You don’t have to be formal, tell me. We are friends. Are you fine? Do you need something.” You couldn’t stop your tears at his concern.

“I’m not fine, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.” You said wiping the tears off. “If you need me, anytime, I’m just one call away.” He gave you a warm smile. “Thanks Sam. I’m so glad you are my friend.”

“You are hell bent on giving me diabetes with your sweet words, lady. Take care of yourself. I’ll be right next door.” He said as he saw you walk into the house.

He quickly exited your house and removed his phone from his pajama. He had to make a call.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

You were in your own thoughts. Bucky hadn’t once called you or showed up in the past six days. You had expected him to come back the next day or at least call.

As you walked back home from the hospital, you didn’t notice the huge Greek god of a man walk straight into you. “I’m sorry.” You said out of instinct without looking up.

You stopped right in your tracts when you heard a familiar yet much affirmative voice calling your name. You turned around and stared right into his eyes. He had changed, become much much bigger and stronger than before. But his eyes, they were the same.

“Steve?!” you asked with sudden excitement. He gave you a radiant smile which instantly improved your day.

Lost in the joy of meeting your long-lost friend, you were both unaware of the pair of eyes keenly observing your every move.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

<< Prev  Masterlist  Next >>

[sentfromwolves]

🌔Find the Word Tag🌔

thank u sm for the tag @muddshadow!! ;; 💝💝 I ended up taking excerpts from CARVE THE STARS, my neo-80′s scifi epic. It’s currently shelved, but it has a huge place in my heart and I love it a lot!

my words ; clear , cold , crisp , crush , carry

CLEAR

“What was the alternative, Wren? Set you loose among the stars? Let you destroy yourself out there instead?” He shook his head. “I expected better of you. I expect better from you.”

“I know.” Wren’s voice seared with contempt. They cocked their foot to one side, knocking one of Brisbane’s new vases over. It shattered to the floor. “But you made it clear enough to me that I’d never be good enough for you a long time ago. And then you ruined any chance I ever had of getting off this goddamned rock. So I really don’t care what you expect from me anymore.”

COLD

“I don’t like a lot of things,” Wren said. “He’s not special for being one of them, and neither are you.” 

Marek scoffed, the sound umbral in his throat.

“You seem to hold a lot of contempt for someone you’ve known less than twenty-four hours.”

“I think I’m a pretty good judge of character for arrogant assholes who come running around with their fancy clothes and shit taste in beer to ask me for a race because I stepped on their pride,” Wren retorted, dropping their head back to the window and praying that the cold might take away the errant fever stirring up through their bones. “You’re no different, no matter how much everyone wants to pretend that you are. You got a hotter cookie cutter than the rest of us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what people like you are like.”

CRISP

“Do not make this about her,” Brisbane said, his restraint frayed to the splintering edge of its tether. “I am your father. Regardless of what you think about me, regardless of what you believe. I have a thousand places to be right now. I have decided to be here because I do not want to see you die.”

“And what should I think?!” Wren exploded. “That it takes my heart stopping for you to remember that I’m your kid?! You’re my father? This might be a newsflash for you, but I don’t need you anymore! I haven’t needed you since you dumped me on my aunt’s porch and pretended I didn’t even exist!”

Wren fisted their hands in Brisbane’s shirt, so crisp and clean and perfect, just like the rest of the life he’d tailored for himself to forget the one he’d had before. Wren shoved him back and Brisbane stumbled, eyes flashing with the heat of an emotion Wren didn’t care to decipher or understand.

CRUSH

“You were just a name in the spot that was rightfully mine,” Wren said eventually, “And I was tired of people pretending I didn’t exist. So you went missing, and I wasn’t done stepping on my dad’s toes. That’s it. That’s all she wrote.”

The car’s engine purred as the two of them fell into a tense silence, the miles racing by. Wren dropped their head back against the window, eyes closing, the storm in the back of their skull continuing to thunder in the distance and split down the slope of their spine. Every few breaths, Wren could feel heat crush between their ribs, golden flecks glittering in the darkness behind their eyelids. Wren thought of Endelion rising out of the ground, the great exoskeleton of something ancient finally returning from the depths.

CARRY

“It’s easier to forget, isn’t it?” Wren asked. “We wish we could just forget. And sometimes we do—because it’s easier to live without those memories than with them. Easier to pretend things didn’t happen, no matter how many scars we carry around that prove otherwise.”

“Wren,” Marek started. There was a warning in his voice—the first fang of a bite.

“I think you remember more about what happened to your ship than you’re letting on,” Wren said, blunt. “And I don’t want there to be secrets between us—not when I might have to trust you with a lot more of my life than I’ve ever trusted it with anyone else before.”

Gonna tag the usual suspects! @awritingcaitlin @pinespittinink @botanistweak @aninkwellofnectar @florraisons

your words are: blunt, break, bend, blame

[kaijurakunsobs]

Seeds

remember guys! you can ask me to tag them on future updates

Summary: The idea of a soulmate is well known, they will come to you one day, either as a lover or a friend. A single bond made of invisible thread is what will let you feel their emotions, joys and worries, to experience their pain and for them to feel yours.

But beware, for not all blessed unions are meant to be, if you were to hate and push them away, a slow death shall consume them and a garden will bloom within their chest, the flowers will fight and push to feel the sun from the outside, a poetic dead of a broken lover. A beautiful dead for your hollow existence.

You know that your mother was never a good person, or so you have been told.

Miranda meet her when she came from the city to the village, four months pregnant and with the false story of being “sick”, her sickness? She decided to cheat on her rich husband and she wanted to have you away from prying eyes and possibly abandon you here. Your birth giver was upfront about how "Having a bastard could ruin my lifestyle!", Mother Miranda smiled sweetly and had Alcina give your mother refugee and help during the birth, the Lady agreed and housed the woman.

On the night of your birth, Alcina held you in her arms, begging Miranda to let her keep you, but she denied. You were hers and hers alone.

As for your mother? Only Miranda knows what happened to her, but you suspect, that her body is buried somewhere in the forest, alone and forgotten, you couldn’t care any less.

Miranda was the one to raise you, to love you, the one who would be there when you were sick, to kiss your tears away when nightmares woke you up. She was the one to break your body apart and scream in our face how much of a failure you were, just like Alcina or Donna or those pesky lycans running amok outside, but within your failure, she saw minimal success, you were quick to learn how to care for her experiments, which were the signs of cadou rejection and how to treat it, at least, you could be useful until she placed you in the mansion the villagers were building for you.

You have seen so many people been brought to the lab, so many lives being taken for a selfish reason, that you grew numb, there was no anger or pain, you felt no grief when the test subjects saw you and begged for help, you did nothing for there was nothing inside you.

You are surprised when Miranda begins to show interest in a kid, you know he was brought here years ago and somehow had managed to survive the horrors your mother put him through. Interest grew into an obsession and then into pride, hope, you will forever remember how hard Miranda screamed when her golden child came out a failure too, cursing at the skies and asking why? He had been so close to being her perfect little boy and he turned out to be yet another fuck up.

But she doesn’t throw him away, her favoritism shows when she moved him from the medical area into a room in her private chambers, never allowing you to go close to him, slapping you and kicking up a storm whenever she saw you too close to his door, even if you were passing by. But you never resent him, you can’t hate him or her, all you can do is nod and go away.

But curiosity is something hard to get rid of, and so you waited for days almost a month until Mother left to meet up with Alcina, using the moment to sneak into his room. A beautiful room, compared to yours, he had a big bed with a canopy, the thick curtains prevent you from seeing him, it feels like a fairy tale when you part the curtain to peer inside.

Truly like a fairy tale...a beautiful boy lays there, his golden hair is going gray, probably out of stress. He has a couple of scars on his face and some new ones on his arms. You feel like reaching inside and kiss him to break the spell, but it feels...wrong, like if you could tarnish him even further by touching him, like if your mother would appear and toss you aside for laying one of your dirty hands on his skin. No matter how bad you wish to be his Knight and save him, the terror you feel over defying Mother Miranda’s orders makes you stay still.

And then, it happened.

It began as an agonizing stab in your chest, it made you trip backwards painfully slamming your head against the wall, gasping for air when the pain as a needle began to pierce through you slowly making its way to your heart, a pitiful sob left your mouth, rendering you useless while your body overcomes the initial discomfort. It takes all of your willpower to get straight and look up at the ceiling through your tears, the light it's blinding and it leaves you dizzy, almost ready to empty your stomach.

Karl Heisenberg, age eleven, lays on his luxurious-looking bed, his entire body shakes painfully, breaking through his mouth, and the fever that's racking his body is the only thing keeping him from noticing that, his soulmate is standing a couple of steps away from his bed.

But how do you even know this?

Because Miranda told you about the concept of someone blindingly loving you for all eternity, who would be your other half and the missing piece to your broken existence, Dimitrescu once said that those stories were silly little fantasies, that love should be won over and one should prove to be the right person for someone else and not just have it “hand it over”.

You used to dream of the day you would feel the connection between yourself and another person, of being able to experience their joy when their eyes fell on you. But this is far from what you wanted, what you always wished for! All you can feel is pain, radiating from so many places in your body, rendering you useless, overwhelmed with anger, grief, sorrow for “yourself”.

Everything quickly piles up, so consumed by what Karl is feeling that you don’t hear the tray that falls and the porcelain plates that shatter, you vaguely register the sting of Miranda slapping you and the distant sound of her screams.

She drags you out of the room and into the cold world outside her home, across the heartless forest and you wonder...if you might end up like your mother, buried under some tree to be forgotten. But Miranda keeps walking until she throws you at the feet of Lady Dimitrescu, speaking to the tall woman and leaving you under her care, forever.

When you were younger, you used to fear the Lady. She was imposing and so strong, a self-made matriarch, but she's so careful when helping you up and guiding you through her beautiful home, her hands are so kind when she helps you to undress and sit in the tub filled with warm water, racking her fingers through your messy hair...so this is what a mother truly is like?

She only leaves you alone when she goes to fetch anything you could wear, looking displeased when she hands you a maid's uniform "We must send for the seamstress, I cannot have you wearing those shabby clothes" that, for some reason gets you to smile.

Later, her movements are soft as she runs a brush through your hair, the fire makes the wood crack and explode, filling the room with a nice warmth, something you never lacked off but that never truly permeated your body.

"Y/N, care to explain why mother Miranda was so angry, earlier?" you hear the concern in her voice, a bit of worry hidden in a stern tone.

Alcina can see you shrink a bit, as if ashamed of what you had done “I saw the kid mother keeps in her chambers” it comes out like a whisper, scared of Miranda appearing at that moment to slap you again “I think he’s my soul mate, Alcina!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckles lightly and smiles when you turn around to look at her ”Your soul mate, some dirty man-thing? Oh my sweet girl I hope it isn’t real and you were just revolted by the sight of a man!”

“But I felt his pain and his emotions...it was scary, but maybe he will love me!”

“Just because you can feel what he feels, doesn’t mean everything will be alright. That’s why those romances are so volatile, darling! There’s no real reason for them to work beyond being stubborn and tell yourself that it will work out” the lady is classy and gracious in her movements as she poured herself another glass of wine “That the other person at the end of your bond will fall to their knees the moment they see you, but in reality, they might resent your sole existence and end up killing you!”

“Killing me?” that comes as a surprise, you have never heard of this.

“Yes...a cruel and unjust dead” Alcina brings you to her lap letting one of her hands spread over your small chest with a sorrowful look on her face “Your lungs will get infested with flowers, a bouquet of throe will bloom within your body, each day the garden will grow and fight to see the sun beyond your mouth and it will rob you of all air and kill you in no time”

She sees you wonder about it, a million questions that you wish to ask, everything falling apart when her curious daughters come into the room, moved by the rumors some maids had shared about their mother adopting another child. All too eager to know their new sister.

After that day, the topic is never brought up.

You grow and learn everything under Alcina’s guidance, the woman is hellbent on making a lady out of you. She teaches you how to read and write, about math and how to sing, applauding when you show her the gift the cadou in your stomach gave you, Midas' touch.

Her daughters and your self-appointed sisters, all laugh and joke around you, treat you like if you were another human when you are no different from their mother, another failed creation, a remainder that Miranda was cursed to not have what she wants. But the love of your little family drowns those thoughts, leaving the happiness of your existence in a nice home and the ever-presence of pain and resentment in the back of your head.

As you grow you notice, each cut and wound that leaves a scar on your skin turns to gold when made by you, but looks as pale lines when made by Heisenberg. You can’t help but laugh when the idea of being a piece of pottery repaired via kintsugi pops in your head, and for a moment you ask yourself if Heisenberg also has golden scars to match yours?

You cry the day when you finally leave the castle, trying hard to convey your love for your mother and sisters with hugs and kisses, in low whispers, promises of coming over as much as you can. The Lady kisses your forehead and sends you off with some final words of advice.

"Never lower your head and always do your best, remember you have us and we would never let you fall"

You are eighteen when you become the miracle worker of the village, crafting medicines with alchemy, signing at the church when the congregation asks you to, turning anything into gold with your touch, smiling with grace, and claiming to have been blessed with a precious gift by Mother Miranda to help the poor and keep the village off absolute agony. In the end, everything tastes like vile and ash, the forced smiles and the sweet tone of your voice make you gang behind the long veil that covers your face.

The days when you sing at the church, are the only ones when you can feel all his hatred directed at you, each painful stab making your eyes tear, yet you keep on making the people happy with hymns crafted before you were even born. If you could let him feel how similar your anger for Miranda is, perhaps the pain in your chest would dissipate, but you can't because you are hollow.

Among the villagers you are Lady Y/N L/N, the golden touch child, you are adored and blindly loved, Miranda smiles radiantly whenever she hears nothing but good words from her cattle, how much they dote on you, ready to serve without a thought, the eagerness to work under you. You may have been a failed vessel but you are a success as a flycatcher, bringing the sheep down to the slaughterhouse to be sent to the other Lords.

On meeting day, the pain and emotions that you feel seem to amplify the closer you are to Heisenberg.

As you sit beside your adoptive mother, your smaller hand in hers, while Mother Miranda speaks and praises each one of her children, lingering a bit too much on her golden child. The pressure in your chest grows, it feels like when you submerge in the tub as if your lungs were being crushed under an invisible force, ready to cough and gasp for air.

Across from you, he sits, posture closed and annoyed beyond belief when Miranda asks him to stay a bit longer after the meeting is done, you feel relief when Lady Dimitrescu gets up, opting to ignore Heisenberg in favor of bringing you back to the castle for your scheduled visit.

You two aren't even halfway through your journey back when you notice you are missing something, a small gift for today's reunion, a bag of fine jasmine tea.

"Mother, I need to get back. It seems I misplaced something, you go ahead!"

There's no time for Alcina to respond before you volt back to the church, the soft lace of your veil beautifully flying behind your hurried steps, slowly dropping your speed the closer you get to the entrance of the building, from it you can see Miranda, she as shed her mask off and is touching Heisenberg's face the way you have seen brides or wives touch their husbands' faces.

A pulse of repugnance and despise make you stumble back, pressing your back against the outer wall, it feels like the first time you met him, it's blinding and leaves you disoriented for a second, a hand flies up to your mouth when a wave of nausea hits you. He's not only pissed, he feels filthy and is suppressing a murderous intent behind a mask of indifference.

The sensation grows and grows until it's crushing you. One look up and you see him standing before you, a hand caging you between him and pillar.

"What are you doing here, freak? The tall bitch sent you to spy on me? tell her to fuck off" this isn't the first time you hear his voice, but it feels like it, even if his words are filled with malice, they taste like bitter wine for you.

"NO!...I mean...no, Lord Heisenberg. I came back because I lost something, a small bag"

"So you are afraid the dog stole from you, are you calling me a thief?" your mouth opens to explain to him once more, but the burly man only growls and steps away "Think whatever you want, I can't care any less for whatever the scum thinks of me"

Later, in the solitude of your home, you will call yourself an idiot, asking yourself why you reached for his empty hand when he turned around ready to leave, why you didn't revealed who you were, why you didn't cried when the man slammed your body against the wall.

"DON'T YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME, BITCH!" Heisenberg's tobacco infused breath hits your face, the painful stab of hatred felt like if your body were being torn apart "I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE LIKE YOU, YOU MAKE SICK!"

This time, when he turns around to leave, you don't reach out, you stay there, gasping for hair and coughing like if you were drowning, a slick sensation in your throat makes you gag and cough harder than before, both of your hands are cupped over your mouth, scared at the idea of throwing up.

Thank God you don't.

The moment passes and your body calms down, but your eyes grow wide when you see what made you gag.

A single yellow carnation petal covered in spit rests between your hands.

-----

Yelow Carnation: rejection and disdain

tag list: @happygalaxymilkshake @mightybeeb @kittyb2000

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   summary: it’s been a month since porco and you broke up. after seeing you with your new lover, he decides to write a letter to you.

♡   —   tags: angst, exes to lovers (kind of?), canon compliant, gn!reader

♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired in ‘happier’ by olivia rodrigo.

♡   —   masterlist

It’s been a month since the last time you were here.

Last week, I found one of your earrings under my bed. I remember how upset you were that you had lost it since I gave you those earrings after one year of being together. I told you not to worry but you still frantically looked everywhere for it, getting more desperate by the minute. I offered to buy you another pair. “Fancier ones,” I added. The smile on your face when you thanked me never met your eyes but I decided to leave it be. Days became weeks and I forgot I ever mentioned it. Would it have made a difference if I had remembered to buy you another pair?

Would you still be here if I had?

Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid to think a pair of earrings is why you left. I think it would take several pages for me to even try to understand what was that broke us apart. Trust me, all I’ve ever done is rethink every word I said to you. Where exactly did I fuck up? Can’t believe it took me a whole month to understand it wasn’t something I said. It was something I didn’t.

Guess it doesn’t matter now, right? You’re dating someone new and you look… happy. I think it took me seeing you laugh with him at the market the other day to realize you had been faking your smiles the last few months. I wish you hadn’t done that. But at the same time, I wish I had noticed they weren’t truthful when you were still mine. Pieck pulled me away from you two and tried to get me to focus on the things we had to buy for the warrior residence. 

I wanted to hate him, I really did. I had a million things to say about the way he dressed, the way I saw you paying for both of you, about the awful posture he had as he stood by your side. But then this little girl fell next to him as he ran with his friends. Just as I had taken a step in her direction, he was already helping her up. He crouched in front of her and shook the dust off her clothes while she asked if she was hurt. I watched as he offered her a candy apple to prevent the tears from falling down her cheeks. And damn, the way you looked at that interaction. There was that smile again.

Somehow, Pieck knew a little about him. Leave it to her to know every eldian in town. As we walked back to the residence, she mentioned he was a baker that had a small shop uptown. His wife had died at a young age and… I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because of course you already know by now. And in the end, do these details even matter? You were smiling again after faking it for months. I guess that’s what is important. I could write here all the reasons why I think a baker can’t compare to a warrior and that he can’t offer you all the commodities I did but…

He makes you smile. And I didn’t. Not during our last months together, at least.

He makes you happy, I can understand that. Maybe he’s better at expressing the shit that goes in his mind, he doesn’t have as much baggage as I do and he doesn’t have a job that could get him killed. I can give him that. But I really need to know if you love him as much as you loved me.

Do you stay awake all night counting his freckles like you did with me? Do you pull his hand to dance with you in the kitchen? Do you tell him he’s the love of your life? Or was that only reserved for me? I think back to when you said it first to me, with tears in your eyes and I believed every word of it. You know why? Because you also were the love of my life. Fuck, you still are. And I think when you love someone as much as we loved each other, even if it ended, even if you smile more now, it doesn’t simply go away.

You only get one love of your life and you are mine. Am I still yours?

I know nothing I say will make you miss me, turn around and come back home. You deserve the best life can offer. You deserve someone who doesn’t have his days counted and knows what to say at the right moment. Someone who makes you smile and tells you every day how fucking beautiful you are. Be happy with him. I really want you to. But please, baby, not like how you were with me.

This is probably the most selfish thing I’m about to ask, but here goes nothing. Tomorrow we’re going to Paradis to get the Founding Titan and finish this war for good. Shouldn’t take us more than two weeks. If by any chance you still have even an ounce of the love you had for me, meet me at the train station when we get back.

I don’t care if it’s only a pitiful remnant of the love we once had because trust me, I can make you love me again. I will do anything it takes. Want me to beg on my knees? I will. At this point, I don’t fucking care about my pride or anything else, just— let me make you smile again. For real this time. If you let me try, I promise I will spend every day of my life making you feel you took the right chance with me.

I know you deserve better. You deserve someone who has more than nine years to live, someone who is braver, that could say everything I'm writing to your face. I know that. And yet, I think the way we loved each other was something I never thought existed until I met you. So I will swallow my worthless pride and ask for another chance.

If you aren’t waiting for me at the train station when we get back, I'll understand. You don't have to explain yourself to me. We'll never talk about this letter again and next time I'll see you I'll say hello. Both to you and your new man. But I would be a coward if I didn't at least try, right?

Porco G.

[in-arlathan]

Writing Tag Game

Yeah, another writing tag game! I love these! Thank you @noire-pandora for tagging me! ♥

Leaving some for @johaeryslavellan, @serial-chillr, @mogwaei, @faerieavalon, @midnightprelude, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @elveny and @kunstpause if you want to do this. No pressure, as always.

Let's get to it...

________

How many works do you have on AO3?

19 works

What’s your total AO3 word count?

230,920 words

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Running With The Halla – 64 kudos

The Rebel's Ascension – 50 kudos

These Stolen Moments – 42 kudos

To Heal The Hurt – 33 kudos

A Change of Heart – 24 kudos

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I aim to respond to every single comment I get, whether they are a string of emojis or a sprawling in-depth analysis of the chapter. Knowing that someone was moved by my words to such a degree that they leave a comment is one of the best things about posting my work online and I want those people to know that their reaction is valued. Like, a lot.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Eh, all of them? By this point, I'm not sure if I can even write anything but angsty monstrosities. I feel like all of my stuff ends on a grimdark to bittersweet note. Right now, I'd say "The Scar" is the grimmest Dragon Age fic I've written so far. But "To Heal The Hurt" comes pretty dang close.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Considering that even my "happy" fics always have this angsty undertone, I'd say "What Friends Are For" is pretty chill and happy despite the Solavellan heartache. Also, "Love In Small Secret Spaces" only exists because I wanted to write smut and fluff for Solas and my ancient elvhen girl Felani, so that one is quite happy as well.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Oh gosh, let me rack my brain. I think there was a very weird Star Wars/Lord of the Rings crossover I wrote with a friend of mine. That must have been absolute ages ago! I haven't done crossovers since.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I used to get quite a bit of hate back in the day when I started out posting my work online. There were mostly people trying to take me down a notch because they thought I was aggrandizing myself by including obscure tidbits from the lore of the respective fandom in my fics. Honestly, there was one person who was particularly upset that I loved the Silmarillion and based my fics on it. It was insane. These days, however, things are blessedly quiet and I'm very happy about that!

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, but I almost didn't. It was due to the encouragement by a few mutual writers that I gave it a try and I came to enjoy it in a way. If I had to describe it, I'd say the smut I write is very "touchy-feely". I always aim to make the scenes steamy but they always end up pretty soft and tender. I'm all about those emotions, I guess? I know it's not for everyone, but I enjoy writing all of this regardless.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Gosh, no. But I got accused of having stolen a fic idea once. Phew, that was wild!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, not really. I did try to improve my English by translating one of my own works from German to English, but I never finished that and I don't think it counts. Also, writing in English straight away was so much easier in the end!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've co-written lots of stuff, fics and original works! My best friend was into writing as well, so we ended up writing a bunch of stuff together. We even wrote this 15,000 word HP crack fic one night during the summer holidays. Ah, I miss those days sometimes! But: After all those years, I'm actually co-writing something again with another writer I admire. We haven't started posting, but the constant back and forth has been a blessing upon my life, let me tell you.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

If you are here, you know that I adore Solavellan. I do have a lot of other ships I enjoy though, so I don't consider this to be my "all-time favorite". I never really had one, coming to think of it. My interests shift too often for that.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I do hope I get to finish all the Dragon Age fics that are currently work in progress. Fingers crossed for that! But there is a metric ton of fics I wrote in the past 20 years that I abandoned, many of which I still think about.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and description. And maybe character introspection. I do love to play around with a character's tone of voice in the prose.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Perfectionism, impatience and constantly thinking about what people will think of me and my work. I try to write stuff that I personally enjoy, but there is always a small voice in my head that urges me to consider a reader's viewpoint. Maybe that is because I really enjoy entertaining people. I want them to have a good time and I'm always afraid that I will let them down.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm in absolute awe of people who do speak more than two languages and are able to incorporate that knowledge into their work. If it's a fictional language like elvhen in Dragon Age, I'm astounded by what some people do with that language because I can't get behind the logic of it. But ultimately, if I'm being brutally honest, I'm a bit indecisive about it. I enjoy a few words or phrases that are tossed into the story to indicate a different language or portray a culture or highlight something, but I usually skip right to the English transcription of fantasy languages (at least in a written format). Trying to discern any meaning from the elvhen sentences clogs up something in my brain matter, I'm afraid, and it puts me out of the moment completely. That's why I tend to skip those bits, to keep enjoying the story that is being told. Ah dear, when did I get the attention span of a goldfish?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon. Yes, I'm ancient.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

To nobody's surprise: "The Rebel's Ascension". There are quite a few scenes in that story that were super difficult to write, but going back and rereading older chapters always gives me so much joy and pride. It's not a perfect story, but it's the best one I've written until now.

[franniebanana]

CQL Rewatch - Ep 13

Of course, the continuation of that great conversation, where Wei Wuxian offers to carry Lan Wangji out of genuine concern for his well-being, against Jiang Cheng’s protests. And what does Lan Wangji say after this gesture of goodwill? “Boring.” And he walks away! LWJ! No! Stop being so proud! I mean, but seriously, of course he was going to decline. Lan Wangji wouldn’t accept help unless he really needed it, which he does later, of course. I can’t really blame him, though. I don’t think I’d accept someone’s offer to carry me either. It would be kind of embarrassing for him, and he’s already looking pretty bad to the Wens. He undoubtedly doesn’t want to draw any more unnecessary attention to himself or to Wei Wuxian either.

Oh, my gosh, he looks so forlorn and hot here. Oh, by the way, the next two blog posts might just be me gushing over wangxian (either individually or as a couple), and I will not apologize for it. You should know what you’re getting by now.

Okay, but I didn’t really notice how Wei Wuxian was walking with him at the back, like keeping an eye on him, because Lan Wangji wouldn’t let him carry him. I like how Lan Wangji continues to be so standoffish towards him, but at the same time, he wants to be around him. And for Wei Wuxian, he has wanted to be around Lan Wangji for a while, and now he’s finally being allowed to do so. And they didn’t show it, but was Jiang Cheng on Wei Wuxian’s right side, or was he somewhere else? You’d think the two of them would really be sticking together (and they seem to be), but I always enjoy seeing the rift widening between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

But getting back to the actual screencap, I can only imagine how Lan Wangji is feeling—he must feel utterly helpless: wounded, limping, needing to accept help for simple things like getting water. I know he’s not supposed to be proud, but we all have a little bit of pride in us, and his has got to be wounded right now. I also wonder if he notices how Jiang Cheng talks to Wei Wuxian and if he understands how he’s part of the wedge that’s between them. Jiang Cheng is really quick to blame just about everyone else for his own issues, and Lan Wangji doesn’t escape that either.

I have to admit, I’m not sure what’s really going on here—why Wei Wuxian looks so troubled, I mean. Maybe he’s feeling something bad is about to happen, maybe Lan Wangji is feeling it too. He was obviously compelled to do something to help find the cave, but in doing so, he’s potentially putting them all in danger. Again, though, we see Jiang Cheng just leaving Wei Wuxian behind, and then Wei Wuxian goes to help Lan Wangji. And I’m going to try and keep track of this from now on, but does Jiang Cheng ever initiate physical contact with Wei Wuxian (other than the hug in the episode where Wei Wuxian comes back after three months)? It seems like it’s always Wei Wuxian that’s putting his arm around him, leaning on him, etc. And on the contrary, we now see that Lan Wangji, who has known Wei Wuxian for somewhere around 18 months or so (maybe two years), doesn’t mind that physical contact at all—he doesn’t push Wei Wuxian away anymore. And not only that, he even initiates physical contact.

How did the two of them end up at the front of the pack? Seriously, Lan Wangji’s limping, and in the last scene, they were all the way at the back. Did Wen Chao decide to put Lan Wangji at the front as bait or something? Like, “well, he’s probably not gonna make it, anyway!” I’m not going to complain about getting to see more wangxian, but it’s a little weird.

Another thing. I’ve seen this episode quite a few times, now, and this is the first time I’ve realized that Nie Huaisang was actually missing. Every time, I completely forget about him. Completely. In my mind, it’s as if he doesn’t exist at all. XD

So, you know what’s great about this part? This is one of those situations where you, the audience, are sitting, watching this, thinking, “They could totally all gang up on that guy and win.” And then that’s what happens! It’s like, so gratifying as an audience member to see something like that actually happen. Because you are thinking, right, that the Good Guys™ have a lot of skilled fighters, while the Wens have, like, one (Core Melting Hand aka CMH). Wen Chao doesn’t ever actually fight, I don’t think—I’ll probably be proven wrong—and even if he does fight, he’s shit at it. So why not mutiny? Wen Chao is just screaming to be overthrown here, calling them all dogs, saying he’s the one who’s in charge.

Oh, he pissed.

But seriously: he’s pissed. Also, I could probably sustain myself on hearing him yell out, “Wei Ying!” I don’t think I’d need food or water. It would probably be considered a scientific miracle, or certainly an anomaly. Okay, but anyway. He’s just Wei Ying now forever. No “Wei Wuxian” for mister Lan Wangji. They are on a first name—given name—basis forever, baby. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even call him Wei Ying! What’s up with that? Jiang Yanli calls him A-Xian, which is very intimate, as if he’s her brother. Okay, maybe I’m being hard on Jiang Cheng. Alternatively, maybe I don’t really know how all these names work and none of this is a big deal at all. I’m open to either.

Ugh, I could not get a clear screenshot here, because Wei Wuxian doesn’t stop moving! So, sorry for the blurry boy. I wanted to capture how Lan Wangji is the first person to run (and I mean run, because he actually ran on his bum leg) to Wei Wuxian, helping him up, and, without words, make sure he’s okay. At this point, I’m pretty sure Lan Wangji’s leg really fucking hurts, yet he’s running to Wei Wuxian because of how worried he is. Do you know who’s not running? Can you guess?

Jiang Cheng’s first words are, “Shut it!” and then some garbage about how he thought Wei Wuxian had been eaten by monster and, so doing, had shamed the Jiang family. I understand the persona he’s trying to embody here: “I care, but I don’t want you to know it.” That’s fine and all, but we all know that Wei Wuxian isn’t high on Jiang Cheng’s list of people he cares about. I mean, Wei Wuxian is willing to die for Jiang Cheng, but I don’t think Jiang Cheng can say the same.

Um, I should give you all a fair warning that I’m going to continue to be harsh with Jiang Cheng. I love him as a character, but as kind of the asshole that he is. I’m going to compare him to Lan Wangji a lot because I believe we’re meant to. He’s a very selfish character and I’m not going to pretend that he isn’t. I like that there is a widening rift between him and Wei Wuxian, I like the tension and the angst. So, yeah, expect that.

I’ve always wondered here why Wei Wuxian doesn’t come to Mianmian’s defense. I believe it’s the same in the book. You know, when you’re used to the protagonist being the one who rushes to the aid of others, it’s weird to see them not do it. And it’s not that I don’t like it, but I’ve always wondered why. If Wei Wuxian had immediately come to her aid, Jiang Cheng still would have reason to blame him for causing trouble (he does it later, anyway). Maybe it was about pulling Lan Wangji in, creating that tension around him as well. For a second, it does look like Jiang Cheng puts his arm out to stop Wei Wuxian, so perhaps that has something to do with it as well—another reminder that the Jiang Clan is supposed to behave and not make any more trouble. But at this point, it really feels like a mutiny is imminent and it’s not as if Jiang Cheng doesn’t go along with it. Of course, he still blames Wei Wuxian (and Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan) later.

This escalates quickly haha. I have to say, one of my favorite parts is when Wei Wuxian absolutely mops the floor with Wen Chao over the Wen Clan principles, and the looks on Wen Qing’s and CMH’s faces—priceless. And I was right. Wen Chao doesn’t fight at all. He watches everyone else get cut down, but does nothing himself. Honestly, after all the shit he does, it is not hard watching him kick the bucket later. He is the type of villain that you just love to hate and want to see lose. I don’t think there’s anyone out there stanning Wen Chao—if there is, good for you, you’re unique. His actor is probably one of the biggest offenders in the over-acting category as well.

But anyway, I wanted to say how this part is iconic Wei Wuxian: outwitting Wen Chao, not with the sword, but with his mind. Another reminder that Wei Wuxian is a smart cookie. He’s so clever and it’s fun to see Wen Chao trying to do the same mental gymnastics and failing miserably. I cannot get enough of Wei Wuxian’s condescending cackling either.

Jurassic Park, anyone? “Its vision is based on movement. It can’t see us if we don’t move.” Sorry, I love Jurassic Park and that’s what this part always reminds me of. And if you’re wondering, Lan Wangji would be Alan Grant and Wei Wuxian would be Ian Malcolm.

It’s really to see Jin Zixuan being a leader here, and he’s not just leading his own clan, but the other clans as well. It’s such a nice contrast between him and his father, who, is basically useless. It’s a shame, because if he’d survived, I think Jin Zixuan would have been a very good leader for life, on and off the battlefield. It’s too bad we never got to see that. It’s also nice to see all the heirs working together—like Jin Zixuan tag-teaming with Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng. And Wei Wuxian off doing his own thing, shooting Slaughter Tortoises in the eye and all that.

I love how Wei Wuxian goes to Mianmian here to try and cheer her up. While the other two are just kind of standing around, unsure of what to do, he immediately rushes to her side. I just find the whole moment sweet and funny: him trying to turn the situation around to make her say something to make him feel better, since he got wounded, and Mianmian just crying harder. He comes off as a little coquettish, but he really is just desperately trying to make her stop crying, which I think he just generally finds uncomfortable. He doesn’t like to see others in pain (I mean, unless that was the goal haha), so he acts kind of flirty here—like, “take care of me” with his pouty face.

Here’s the thing: I don’t think Lan Wangji was going to leave without Wei Wuxian, even if he hadn’t had to run back to save him from getting attacked by the Tortoise of Slaughter. He kept looking back at Wei Wuxian, wanting to make sure he was going to catch up to them, because he wasn’t going to get into that water without him. Now, I don’t think Jiang Cheng wanted to leave him behind either. He only left after Wei Wuxian commanded him to do so, but I think he was very torn. Although to us, this is a silly-looking CGI snake-tortoise, to them, this is a life or death situation. Leaving Wei Wuxian behind quite possibly means leaving him to die. If the monster doesn’t get him, the elements or starvation might. That is to say, it’s understandable that both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are unwilling to leave Wei Wuxian behind. Jiang Cheng is a strong swimmer, so he has no choice but to help the others. Lan Wangji is already injured, can’t do much by way of helping the others (since I don’t think he’s canonically a strong swimmer, so him rushing ahead would only be a selfish move), and obviously doesn’t want to leave Wei Wuxian alone. Of course, by returning to pull Wei Wuxian out of immediate danger, he gets himself even more wounded. Now, in addition to his leg being broken, he’s also got gashes all up his shin.

So, as it turns out, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have potentially made the ultimate sacrifice here to that the others can escape to safety, and they’ve left Jiang Cheng in charge of coming back to rescue them.

As a side note, the Tortoise of Slaughter gives up on prey as easily as my cats do. XD

So, we start off this whole little arc with Lan Wangji being injured: his leg is broken and he’s trying desperately to be strong, push through, and not be vulnerable. He continues to fight back, perhaps even when he shouldn’t. And all of that has gotten him this: clawed up by the Tortoise of Slaughter, broken leg, trapped in a cave with little hope of escape. And not only that, but he’s trapped here with Wei Wuxian, who by now, he certainly has a thing for, even if he can’t put a name to the emotion and even if he struggles to admit it to himself. Right now is the most vulnerable he has ever been around Wei Wuxian, probably the most vulnerable he’s ever been around anyone outside of his family. And he is in pain, folks. This is definitely the most expression we’ve seen on Lan Wangji’s face since the opening scene (“Wei Ying!” off the cliff); Yibo does such a great job with those microexpressions that when he actually does really need to emote, it’s got quite an impact. And the voice actor is great too—you really can feel the pain (I forget to mention the voice actors, but they really are exceptional!!).

So, the headband. While overall, I don’t like that Wei Wuxian knows about the headband, in this case, I don’t mind what he does. In the book, he would unknowingly take the headband (against Lan Wangji’s protestations) and use it to help bind Lan Wangji’s leg, completely unaware of the connotations of even touching it. But CQL Wei Wuxian knows what it means to touch the headband—he knows who’s allowed to touch it and who isn’t: namely, he isn’t allowed to touch it. Wei Wuxian isn’t Lan Wangji’s spouse. Not only would this be incredibly rude and ill-mannered, but it would also be flirtatious. Wei Wuxian jokes about it: is it better to keep your headband or save your leg? Of course, Lan Wangji can’t deny that he does not want to lose his leg, so he allows Wei Wuxian to continue.

Wei Wuxian is great under pressure. He has a moment where he is freaking the fuck out—he’s scared. He’s never seen Lan Wangji like this. Lan Wangji has always been this unflappable pillar of strength, since they met, and now Lan Wangji is hurt really badly, shaking, contorted from the pain. You can tell that Wei Wuxian is already trying to think his way out of the situation. The first thing is to deal with Lan Wangji’s wound—their chances of survival are already bad, and if Lan Wangji’s leg gets infected, that’s it: he could die. So, he has his moment of panic and fear, and then he gets to work. And I actually took this particular screenshot because I like how he puts his hand on Lan Wangji’s leg in a gesture of comfort. I think he’s genuinely, incredibly worried about his friend.

Wei Wuxian is so concerned for Lan Wangji that he barely remembers that he, himself, is wounded too. He has a pretty bad burn on his chest (one that will never go away, mind you, because it’s a special branding iron. Actually, this is the weapon that JiaoJiao—sorry, I don’t remember her name and I’m too lazy right not to look it up—carries. It doesn’t have to be heated up in the fire, because it’s always hot, if I remember correctly). But luckily he has those herbs that Mianmian—oops, no, it’s Wen Ning in this—gave him. I don’t know why they changed that—we have plenty of Wen Ning, and I don’t know why we needed more in that moment….

But anyway, I really love how Wei Wuxian saved the energy-restoring pills specifically to give to Lan Wangji (because of his other injury, I assume), and is now lamenting that he lost them. And then he notices something—and sorry, this is one of my favorite parts in one of my favorite scenes in the entire MDZS/CQL universe.

So, this part. Wei Wuxian first tells Lan Wangji to take off his clothes, then he says he’ll take off his own. It’s all meant to, of course, horrify and embarrass Lan Wangji to the point that he’ll spit out the coagulated blood. That is to say, his intentions are very good and pure and all that. However, he does it in this very flirtatious manner, y’know, for better effect, but I think that part of him realizes here that it isn’t all made up. It’s not just teasing to get Lan Wangji to spit up some blood. After all, there are other ways to do that: Wen Qing does it to him later on just by hitting a pressure point.

The reason I say this is because of this look here (and subsequent expressions—I can’t screencap everything!). They are very close to each other right now, physically, I mean. Wei Wuxian has essentially been flirting and teasing Lan Wangji for the past minute or two, talking about getting naked—saying a lot of things that Lan Wangji would find scandalizing. And now that the blood has been spit out, Wei Wuxian finds himself very close to Lan Wangji, and I think he’s a little embarrassed. I think part of him feels something for Lan Wangji beyond just friendship, beyond two people who are sharing a near-death experience, who might never make it out of this cave alive. I think this moment gives him pause. In my movie, there’s be a “bathump” here. This is the kind of thing I’m talking about—that moment of, “Oh, shit, I’m feeling something here.” And then Lan Wangji thanks him, which makes Wei Wuxian even more uncomfortable, because he doesn’t like when people say that to him, but especially “your formal kind.” So he’ll accept thanks from other people, but not those who have a deep connection to him, not those who might have other emotions behind that thank you.

I really like how Lan Wangji is watching Wei Wuxian as he treats his wound. When I treat my daughter’s scratches and scrapes, she normally looks down at what I’m doing, watches me clean it, put a bandage on, etc. She never stares at me. I could see someone doing that, perhaps if they were afraid of blood—their natural reaction would then be to just look away. However, I doubt Lan Wangji is squeamish around blood—I highly doubt it. I doubt he’s really squeamish around anything—the guy is a rock most of the time (his only weakness is really Wei Wuxian, and I say weakness in the sense that if Wei Wuxian is threatened, Lan Wangji would do anything to help him). So, why does Lan Wangji fix his gaze on Wei Wuxian here? For starters, he trusts that Wei Wuxian knows what he’s doing, he trusts him to treat the wound gently, but effectively (and remember, there’s no reason why Lan Wangji can’t treat his own wound here, unless he’s that unstable and weak, which I doubt. I think he’s letting Wei Wuxian do it). But the other thing is that I think he’s looking at Wei Wuxian for comfort. I think that watching Wei Wuxian as he slowly, methodically applies the herbs to the wound is somehow reassuring for Lan Wangji—like, “I’m not alone. Wei Ying is with me. We’ll be all right.”

Did you hear something? Yeah, that was me screaming. I’m still screaming. I’ve been screaming since the first time I came across this. Let’s unpack a little. First of all, Lan Wangji can be famously quoted as saying, “I don’t touch other people.” Okay, well, we know that’s true. He doesn’t touch other people, except for Wei Wuxian, who he’s grabbed several times by now. But let’s cut him some slack—maybe he meant he doesn’t touch other people skin-to-skin. Okay, well, he did just grab Wei Wuxian’s wrist, and now he’s rubbing his fingers on the wound on Wei Wuxian’s chest. So, it’s one thing to touch someone’s hand or arm—these are things some of us used to do on a daily basis. But touching someone’s chest is…intimate, to say the least. And yes, I know he’s got a wound there. Duh. I don’t think Lan Wangji is going to make a habit of rubbing Wei Wuxian’s chest for no reason (right now, haha, post MDZS is another story). But the fact remains that touching someone’s chest—male or female—is a sign of intimacy. The other thing I want to talk about is how Lan Wangji took herbs that were meant for him and gave them to Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian treating Lan Wangji is a selfless act, especially knowing how burns can so easily become infected—there’s no blood to push out the bacteria, so that’s one of the reasons why bad burns are so serious. By the same token, Lan Wangji giving up some to help Wei Wuxian is also selfless. My point: they protect each other. They want one another to survive, they want to stay together. They don’t want to be alone. Wei Wuxian points out that this is the longest conversation he’s had with Lan Wangji—Lan Wangji is opening up to him. Xichen says later that Wangji won’t say anything if he doesn’t want to, even if you were to ask him. This means that everything Lan Wangji says here he wants to say. He feels close enough to Wei Wuxian to open up to him about private and painful things.

Ugh, I LOVE THIS SCENE.

This look. Okay, just humor me here. Wei Wuxian makes the stupid assumption that Lan Wangji likes Mianmian, and that’s why he gets angry and annoyed here. And Lan Wangji gives him a look that says, “Are you kidding me?” I made that rated G, folks. If we are meant to take these two men as just friends, how in the world am I to interpret this? Lan Wangji is exasperated because why would he ever be interested in anyone? And clearly he’s just meant to have a bosom friend, and that’s it? I mean, seriously, what am I supposed to think? Because from where I’m sitting, even if I hadn’t read the book, this look is like, “Are you kidding me? I’m telling you not to flirt unless you mean it? I’m telling you not to be rash? Can’t you tell that I feel something else for you?”

I wanted to talk about this line: “So you know she’ll remember you forever.” Lan Wangji is annoyed. I think he’s annoyed that Wei Wuxian is so rash to risk his life for Mianmian and he’s annoyed that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to take it seriously—for Wei Wuxian, he brushes it off as that he did something brave for a pretty girl, and now she’ll always think of him fondly. Lan Wangji is angry here because he obviously doesn’t want Wei Wuxian to be so rash with his life—he cares about Wei Wuxian and doesn’t want him to die ffs.

And then, “Don’t flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.” Wei Wuxian, “Well, I didn’t flirt with you.” Aside from the fact that I disagree wholeheartedly with that statement (Wei Wuxian has been flirting with Lan Wangji for quite some time, now), this little exchange says a lot. Why is it so easy for Wei Wuxian to risk his life for someone who he barely knows? Why is it so easy for him to brush it off? Why is it so easy for him to flirt with people he doesn’t care about? I mean, he’s flirtatious with Mianmian mostly to make her feel better and make light of the situation, and to let her know that he doesn’t blame her for what happened. In Lan Wangji’s mind, though, Wei Wuxian has been flirting with him and now—what? He didn’t mean any of that either? Was everything just a game to him? By the end Lan Wangji just gets frustrated with Wei Wuxian, calling the conversation “meaningless.” It’s meaningless because Wei Wuxian is obviously oblivious to Lan Wangji’s heart to the point that it’s like talking to a brick wall. He doesn’t understand his feelings and he doesn’t understand why he’s upset—he doesn’t understand.

And after revealing what happened at the Cloud Recesses, again leaving himself even more vulnerable, Lan Wangji falls asleep. I don’t have much to say here, other than Wei Wuxian should feel pretty special that Lan Wangji trusts him enough to confide in him, to even shed tears in front of him. And this is just a really tender moment, getting to see how Wei Wuxian looks at Lan Wangji when he’s not aware, covering him with his clothes so he won’t get cold. It’s very sweet.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |

[therenlover]

Welcome Home (Part One of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Tags: Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Post-Wandavision

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, References to Ralph Bohner

Word Count: 2400~

This fic has already been posted to my AO3, along with the next two parts! I’ll be continuing it on both platforms.

-------

“So… Ralph Bohner?”

Peter looked up from his mug, the tea inside having gone cold long before. His eyes had been fixed on the floor, his leg bouncing far quicker than what should have been humanly possible. It had been a little over 24 hours since the Hex had disappeared, and Peter was firmly of the mindset that he was taking it all very well.

Even to himself, he was a terrible liar.

“Ralph?” His new keeper spoke again, voice soft in the quaint kitchen of the brownstone that Peter would be calling home for the foreseeable future.

It had all been so strange. In one moment he was reorganizing his new attic and trying to figure out how to work the damn DVD player, and somehow in the next, he was a prisoner in his own mind, backseat driving as a witch used his face and voice to torment Wanda. Not his Wanda, though; a new, strange, grieving Wanda with unfathomable power at her fingertips. Thankfully, that didn’t last very long.

After just 2 weeks in this strange new reality, Peter missed the X-Men. He missed his dad, no matter how absent and strange he was. He missed his friends, and his sisters, and the strange normalcy that came with being a part of the team when the world wasn’t in danger. Peter found himself wishing that things would just slow down enough for him to catch up and figure out what the hell was going on. That was a new one for him.

At least he still had his speed. If he had lost his powers in the freak accident that sent him into another universe… well he didn’t want to think about that.

Despite this, the FBI guy who had dragged him out of Westview and across the river to New York had given him an explicit warning not to use his powers while civilians were present. Peter didn’t mind Agent Woo, he seemed like a good guy and treated him with more decency than most government lackeys would have back home, but it was gonna be completely impossible for Peter to avoid using his speed in public. It wasn’t like Agent Woo would even be around to stop him anyway. The only person who could possibly protest was the poor sap that the F.B.I. called in to babysit him, and they would never be able to keep up even if they tried.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

Fuck.

His eyes shot up to meet hers, “You aren’t supposed to know that name,”

“I’m not supposed to know a lot of things,” she replied almost nonchalantly, “but neither of us is known for doing the things we’re supposed to do, are we?”

Peter chuckled, and for the first time in a while, he cracked a genuine smile. “I guess not,”

The smile seemed to please the woman across the counter. Smiling back, she wrapped her hands around her own mug and sat down on a tall stool, leaning towards Peter. “Now, first things first! I want you to ignore whatever rules the FBI gave you while you’re here. My house, my rules, and despite the fact that you’re in witness protection I doubt anyone unwanted will come knocking at the door to snatch you up,”

As she spoke, Peter really took her in for the first time. She was a small thing, in shape and stature, but soft, all rounded edges and gentle touches. Despite her young face, there was an age to her, too. Looking deep into his memories, he realized she had the same haunted look in her eyes that he had seen all too often in the older members of his team. It was the look of someone who has seen unspeakable loss and survived to tell the tale. He decided at that moment that maybe staying with her wouldn’t be so bad.

“So about that rules thing,” Peter tapped his fingers against his half-full mug, doing his best not to speed up and break it, “I don’t exactly do well with rules. They aren’t my thing. I can’t promise that the cops won’t show up at the door, and I especially can’t promise that they won’t be there because of something I did that I knew was against the rules,”

When Peter met the woman’s eyes again she was still smiling, not a hint of displeasure on her face.

“If I had a problem with you being you, Peter, I wouldn’t have offered to take you in. Besides, as long as the cops that show up are human there won’t be a problem,”

Peter paused. “What?”

“That’s a question for another time,” The woman took a sharp turn then, hopping off of her stool and walking her mug to the sink where she proceeded to rinse it out. “Next, even in public, I refuse to call you Mr. Bohner. Ralph I can do if you care about staying anonymous, but I won’t be acknowledging any part of your… chosen last name,” Even as she shuddered, there was humor lacing her voice, “Bohner, though? Really?”

“It’s funny!”

She turned back to Peter with her face scrunched up in faux disgust. “Maybe to a middle schooler,”

“I had just been pulled out of my room, sucked through a portal, and thrown onto the steps of goddamn Quantico, so excuse me for not being on top of my game. Besides, Bohner wasn’t even my first choice. They wouldn’t let me go with Jack Ingoff,”

That was enough to send them both into a fit of giggles.

“Jack Ingoff?” She wheezed, “You tried to get the F.B.I. to give you the legal name Jack fucking Ingoff? That’s just so you,”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re both an idiot and the funniest person I have ever met,”

“I’d better be,”

As they continued to laugh, Peter found himself completely enthralled by this strange woman’s face and it occurred to him that she was incredibly beautiful.

It wasn’t as if she was a supermodel, though in Peter’s eyes it wouldn’t have taken much to make her one. Every part of her just seemed to glow as she gripped her stomach and stifled laughter. She was pretty in quiet ways, in soft glances and gentle touches and unrestrained joy. In the way that everything around her felt like it was full of life. In the kindness that had never wavered while Peter had sat at her kitchen counter, even when he had come through the door swearing at Agent Woo and demanding that he didn’t need a babysitter.

The longer he looked, the more beautiful she became, in actions and words and features combined, and Peter suddenly became aware that if he hadn’t taken the time to really see her, he never would have realized. He was glad he had slowed down for once.

Somewhere down the line, her laughter quieted.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what’s your deal?” The cold mug in his hands was suddenly extremely interesting.

Across the counter she stilled, frozen in place for a moment. When she spoke, her voice held an edge of… fear? “What do you mean?”

Peter did his best to backpedal.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I was just wondering what you did to get stuck with me, that’s all. I doubt they would stick my annoying ass with just anybody, especially after… well everything that went down in Westview. Plus, I’m not just a normal dude. What average New York socialite would take in a kleptomaniac who just so happens to also be inhumanly fast out of the goodness of their heart?”

As he spoke, her shoulders relaxed and she loosened her grip on the edge of the marble countertop. “Oh, my deal,”

“Yeah. There’s more to you than what meets the eye, I can tell,” Something in the way her face flushed at his words made Peter’s heart fill with pride.

“I… well I had a unique upbringing,” she responded, voice careful and measured while she watched the floor, “I’m not a mutant, not like you, but I have a little bit of power at my disposal that makes me useful to heroes and hero adjacent agencies. I’m not a part of the team, my skills aren’t usually helpful when it comes to fighting, but they keep tabs on me just in case I’m needed. This was one of those times,”

Peter snorted. “Sounds like a pretty shitty deal,”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have to have the government breathing down my back, I wouldn’t, but after I worked with the Avengers they pulled up my file and found out I shouldn’t exist, so they’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on me ever since,”

“Ah… well, next time just don’t get caught,”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being able to dodge bullets and outrun law enforcement, Peter. Besides, I like this house and I’m not quite in the mood to have to abandon it just yet.”

He shrugged. “To each their own. Now how the hell did you get stuck with me? Were you just the closest or did everybody else refuse,”

“Well, actually I offered to take you in,”

Peter choked on the air. “Why the hell would you do that?”

She was quick to defend herself, and in a way him too.

“Because Jimmy is my friend, and when a friend needs a favor I try to help them out. It’s more than that, though. I won’t lie. I’m fascinated by you, Peter Maximoff. I find you wonderful exactly how you are and I couldn’t stand to let any of the other assholes in New York try to stomp out your personality. Here with me, you can just be you, and knowing that you’re able to be comfortable until we find you a way home was more than enough of a reason for me to volunteer to take you in. Besides, if you weren’t with me you’d probably be in the tower’s holding cell, and believe me, that wouldn’t be any fun,”

It took Peter a minute to fully digest what he was hearing.

He wasn’t going to be a burden. There would be no curfews or screaming matches or long lectures about his chosen pastimes. She wanted every single part of him there and had already gone out of her way to assure him that even the worst of him was welcome under her roof. Even during his time at X-Mansion, he had never been treated like this.

Sure, he had been himself there. People would yell or try to stop him from doing what he wanted but their efforts were futile. He couldn’t be tamed. At best the other members of the team had just tried to ignore him until his powers came in handy. He was an annoyance at worst and the household funny guy at best, and yet now a total stranger wanted him around. It took all of Peter’s small reserve of restraint to not take a victory lap around the block there and then.

Being wanted was the best feeling in the world.

When his head cleared, he smiled again. “You know, when Agent Woo brought me in here I was fully prepared to wait for him to leave then make a run for it, but I’ve decided to save you from the F.B.I.’s wrath and stay for a while instead. You’re welcome,”

He expected a snappy retort, but instead, her words came out strangely genuine, almost a whisper.  “Thank you for saving me, Peter. I appreciate it,”

“Any time,”

Slowly the flush from before crept back onto her face.

“I know you’re not the type who likes to be tied down, so I won’t keep you here much longer,” she said, before taking Peter’s mug to the sink, “but there are just a few more things I need to tell you before you go off to do whatever it is you do on a Thursday morning.”

He would never admit it but Peter felt anything but tied down. Instead, he just nodded.

“Go for it,”

She washed the mug as she spoke. “Alright, well first of all what’s mine is yours. Unless I specifically ask you not to use something you have free reign over whatever you need. You can come and go as you please, I keep odd hours and don’t mind a little noise even when I’m sleeping. The house is pretty simple layout-wise, you can explore whenever you want, but the room at the end of the hallway to your right is my bedroom and I’d prefer if you didn’t go in there unless you need to. Your room is the first door at the left of the stairs on the second floor and… well, I think that’s all,”

There was a sort of sorrow in the woman’s eyes when she stopped, placing the now clean mug on a drying rack before turning to face Peter again. A yearning. It made Peter want to… well, he didn’t quite know what it made him feel. He just wanted to do whatever would ease the strange pain that resided in his new friend.

He went to speak but nothing came out.

“Is everything okay Peter?”

It was Peter’s turn to flush, face red with shame. “I...uh, well, I wasn’t quite paying attention when the agent introduced us. I’m gonna need to know your name if I’m living with you,”

It came as no surprise when she laughed gently, making her way across the kitchen towards the living room, passing Peter at the counter on her way. “My name is Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you, Peter,” The strange sorrow was still present, reflected in her words, but it seemed lighter than before, more manageable.

“Nice to meet you too Y/N,”

“I’m heading to work,” she pulled on a light jacket as she spoke, “so feel free to explore at your own leisure while I’m gone. I’ll hopefully be back by 5, but sometimes things run late. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

Peter shook his head no. “If I can’t find something I need I’ll just run out and grab it myself.

Y/N laughed again. “Just don’t get caught, you won’t know the number to call from jail yet,”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,”

She paused, halfway out the door. “Oh, and Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome home,”

----

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! I have 3 1/2-ish parts of this series written, but the plan is for it to be a long haul where each part is a connecting oneshot. I hope you’re excited! 

Please don’t post my work to other sites, thanks!

[amintyworld]

We Lost - Sorrowful Song AU

A/N: Hey guys, I back with a few prologues/intro chapters to some of @dreamsmp-au-ideas’s AUs. This one is the one I never thought I’d have time to write, but here we are - the Sorrowful Song AU. The premise is simple: What if during the Final Disc Confrontation, no one came to help Tubbo and Tommy? The answer: The fluffiest fluff, and the angstiest angst. Please check it out on their blog! I hope you guys enjoy! - Minty

TW: Major Character Death(s?), Blood/gore, afterlife, suicidal thoughts, memory loss, arguing, cursing, drug/alcohol mention, smoking. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

As Tubbo and Tommy embraced in the cold air of Dream’s lair, Tommy squeezed Tubbo tightly, as if that could keep him here, alive, for just a little bit longer. That he would have his best friend for just a little bit longer. “So, are you… are you accepting this?” His eyes pricked with tears. “Are you o-?” His hands lingered near Tubbo’s arms as they pulled away, not knowing what to do or what to even say. Tubbo’s face filled with gentle warmth as he looked up to his best friend and mustered a smile,

“Hey, it’s okay.” He slowly reached to take Tommy’s hand in his and give it a comforting squeeze. “We had fun, it’s okay. We said our goodbyes at the start.”

“But we… we are optimistic you know we were optimistic-” Tommy’s body shook slightly, backing up a bit, as his eyes wet with tears. “The whole way here- my mic broke and we were… we were optimistic-!”

Tubbo crossed his arms around himself, almost like a hug. His eyes never left the floor. “Yeah, I know, but you get backed into a corner, like how he describes me as a pawn?” He looked up to meet Tommy’s gaze, his own eyes glistening with tears. “This is checkmate. This is it. This is the end.” Tubbo’s shoulders sagged. “I suggest you resign.”

A knot formed itself in Tommy’s throat at his friend’s words, and he thickly swallowed. “Tubbo… even though for this entire server I regarded you as my sidekick, and the character and all- But really Tubbo, I was your sidekick.” A moment of shock passed Tubbo’s face as he slowly began to shake his head.

“No..” A sad smile traced Tubbo’s lips. 

A tear rolled down Tommy’s cheek. “Please don’t go.” Tubbo slowly began to move toward Dream once again. “Please don’t go…”

“No, no it’s fine.” Tubbo gathered up his courage as he closed his eyes in front of Dream, who held his ax at the ready. “It’s about time anyway, it’s about time.”

“Say your goodbyes.” Dream’s voice echoed through the empty lair.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

Tommy’s vision blurred with tears as Tubbo’s body fell to the floor, crimson blood staining his chest. Tommy called out his name, running toward him trying to help him, hold him, anything- But, within seconds, his body disintegrated into nothingness, the only sign of his existence being a puddle of blood on the door and a pile of items. The teenager’s body shook with sobs as he fell to the floor, his heart aching as his mind scrambled with the simple fact that Tubbo was dead. 

Tubbo was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. 

“Hm…” Dream hummed to himself as he went through the pile of things apathetically. Curiosity piqued his interest as he pulled out a compass with the tag ‘Your Tommy’, looking it over to see if he should add it to his collection. “Interesting.”

“Don’t you fucking dare you bitch!” Tommy angrily shouted through tears as he rushed over, punching Dream in the face, er… mask. It cracked and a small bit of the signature painted eyes fell to the ground with a shatter as a single green eye stared down at him. Tommy’s heart dropped in his chest at how dull it looked. He remembered how dull his own eyes used to look, in exile.

Quickly, Dream kicked Tommy square in the chest and sent him flying as he landed on his back, practically all the air was knocked out of his lungs. As he sputtered for breath, Dream walked up to him, pointing his sword at Tommy’s chest. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s go.”

“Fuck you.”

The sound of glass breaking filled his ears as all the energy was quickly sapped out of Tommy’s body as he struggled to move, paralyzed, and he looked up at Dream in confused shock. “Do you really think you have a choice?”

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

“Fucking great, another one!”

“Shut up, Schlatt.”

“This is my void too, you know!”

Tubbo’s entire body ached as his dead felt dizzy. His mind struggled to remember what had happened. Why was it so fuzzy? He slowly opened his eyes to find… Wilbur? Wilbur gave him a smirk.

“You know when I felt like space was opening up the last person I expected here was you.”

Tubbo sat up, the shift in his position made his head throb in pain as he let out a groan. “Where… where is here, exactly?”

Though Wilbur looked just as he did when he was alive, except for a hole through his chest, of course, he was gentle and looked to Tubbo with a warmth that Tubbo honestly missed seeing. His hand found Tubbo’s as he helped him stand up. “Careful, I know it’s a bit jarring at first.” All around the two were nothing but darkness. They were floating in a sea of nothingness. Tubbo looked at his hands and noticed how translucent they were. Was he…? He was a ghost? Wilbur gestured around them. “Welcome to the Void!”

“Void…?”

“I mean, it’s under the world, at least we think… so… yeah. Welcome to the afterlife.” Wilbur shrugged as his face quickly lit up in excitement. “Oh, let me show you around!” Wilbur smiled as he dragged Tubbo, who looked down to notice he was floating, toward more ghostly figures coming into view. There were cows, pigs, flowers, trees, even translucent endermen. “Anything that ever was alive and died is down here, including all those pets- Fungi and Friend should be around here somewhere… oh, over there’s Schlatt’s little corner…”

“Wait, Schlatt…?” Tubbo asked, turning around to see the former President of L’manburg’s small hut, across from him a tent and in the middle a campfire.

“Yeah, still the same old Schlatt - you have no idea how pissed he was when he figured out there’s no drugs or booze down here.” Wilbur sighed with a chuckle. He looked over to notice a certain blue sheep sniffing around Wilbur’s pockets. Wilbur smiled as he leaned down to pet the small creature. “Hey there Friend. You want some grass, don’t cha?”

As he fed the sheep, Tubbo’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why do you need to eat when you’re dead?”

“It’s not so much that we have to, it’s more like we choose to. Friend enjoys his grass, yeah?” Wilbur shrugged. Wilbur led Tubbo under a tree as the two sat on the dead grass and flowers. “I was wondering… where’s Tommy? I would’ve thought you two would come down as a package deal.”

“I… Dream cornered us…” Flashes of memories began to play in Tubbo’s mind. “He threatened me, he made Tommy give up everything. He has everything that everyone’s attached to - their pets, their stuff… he said that Tommy brought attachment to the server, so he needed him alive. He was going to put him in this inescapable prison, and… and he killed me.”

Wilbur’s bright attitude fell. “Oh.”

“It was time anyway,” Tubbo brushed off, forcing a smile. “My time to go, I guess.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Was it?” Tubbo sighed, laying back on the grass as he stared up at the darkness around them. Tubbo’s hands played with the glowing and slightly translucent grass as he stared at the ground lost in thought, trying to wrap his head around it all and not finding any words. “Hey, hey - it’s all good, sorry I didn’t mean to just-” Wilbur sighed, moving to stand and holding out his hand for Tubbo to take. “Hey, uh, you… you like Uno?”

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

Tommy hadn’t said a word through the entire trip, though it’s not exactly like he could if he wanted to - Dream didn’t care for his protests or his few pathetic attempts to escape. He pushed away from the tears in his eyes as his heart hardened once more, feeling oddly heavy, weirdly… empty. He kept his head down, his arms tied up in front of him as he marched toward Pandora’s Vault. Every step he took he felt like he was walking toward his own demise.

Memories flashed through Tommy’s mind of how he slowly walked towards the edge of the bridge, staring down at the lava, his head full of nothing but thoughts. What had Dream said again? “It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy.”

It really never was his time to die. 

Always pulled and pushed along by people or things, fighting wars and facing down all the odds, prepared for the inevitable, welcoming and facing it head-on, only to wake up the next day and forced to move onto the next thing. Tommy used to feel happy and light, drifting wherever the wind would take him. Now, he felt like he dragged the world with him, with every move he made - it was so heavy, it hurt so much that the teenager almost felt as if at any moment he’d shatter.

But he hadn’t. And Dream wanted to know how much more he could take.

“Ah, Punz. Just the person I wanted to see.” Dream grinned as he slightly shoved Tommy forward. “The prisoner is here.”

Punz thickly swallowed in hesitation as he looked over toward the teen, who looked up at him, expressionless in a way that seemed so incredibly odd for Tommy that Punz stepped backward slightly in shock. “I… uh… I wasn’t aware that… that you’d be here this early.”

“I do pride myself on efficiency when it comes to these types of things.” Dream’s smiley mask bore into Punz, before turning towards Tommy with a cheerful smile. “Let’s get you settled in then, huh?”

As Tommy threw all his items into the chest, with no protest, he was turned as Punz checked his pockets for any lingering tools before handing him a tacky orange shirt and pair of pants to change into. Throughout it all, Punz tried to remind himself that he was doing the right thing, he was keeping his promise to Dream, he trusted him with his loyalty after all. Still, pangs of guilt rang through his stomach, tying it in knots at how utterly and completely broken the teenager looked. His eyes looked so dull he looked like an obedient zombie. He didn’t fight. He didn’t try to get away. Why wasn’t he trying to run?!

As they waited for the bridge to appear while the lava drained, Dream tightly kept the boy’s hands behind his back. Tommy’s voice was small and broken, almost pleading. “You’ll visit me in prison, won’t you Dream?”

“I’m afraid you won’t be getting visitors for a while, Tommy.” Dream pushed his hair back, almost… fondly? “I need to learn to trust you again, remember? I need to be able to trust you won’t try to run away.” As Tommy stepped onto the bridge with Dream behind him, only one thing he knew was for absolute certain - He wouldn’t run away.

He had nowhere else to go. He had no one to run to. He had nothing - L’manburg was gone, Wilbur was dead, Tubbo was dead.

Dream won.

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

Tubbo couldn’t help but smirk as he slammed down a plus-four on the pile, much to the ram’s dismay as the table erupted with shouts and hollers at the play. It had been awhile - Tubbo knew they lost count somewhere along the line, the last day was… the 20th day? Yeah, there had been at the very least twenty days since he landed down in the Void. he hung around with Wilbur for the majority of it, and though it was pretty clear he’d changed since pushing that button so long ago, there was definitely a side to him Tubbo remembered well, that he hadn’t realized how much he missed. 

Schlatt was… well, he was Schlatt. The ram hybrid barely left his own little corner where he napped, and when he did he was usually poking around for his next cigarette from the small stash he and Wilbur shared, or the few times they needed a player three. “You cheater!” Schlatt exclaimed, throwing his cards down on the table in anger, making Tubbo giggle and Wilbur laugh.

“I think it’s safe to call it, yeah?” Wilbur smiled, getting up to grab the score paper and pen.

“No, it’s not over yet!” Schlatt said, searching through his pile for anything useful.

“Schlatt, you have over half the deck in your hand.”

“How did you get so many plus fours?!”

Wilbur sat back down with the paper, smiling. “So, that completes game four hundred and thirteen - so far, Tubbo and I are tied for a hundred and seventy-five wins, with sixty wins for Schlatt, and three for Mexican Dream.”

“Remind me again why I keep playing with you two?” Schlatt groaned, and Tubbo patted his back sympathetically.

“Well, Wil and I always need a third, and Mexican Dream is… well you know how he is.” Tubbo laughed. “You’re a very good competitor.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Uh, guys?” Wilbur looked own at his hands for a moment, calling the other’s attention as slowly, his hands began to fade away from view. “Guys…?”

“What… what’s going on- Schlatt?” Tubbo looked over to Schlatt nervously as the ghost looked around in a panic.

“I… I dunno what’s happening, this hasn’t happened before-!” As Wilbur’s ghost form began to fade more and more, gods it felt absolutely painful - that shredded feeling of being disassembled, only this time he had no idea where he was going. A sense of fear struck him as he tried to keep his voice even, trying to forcibly ground himself here, let him stay here, please-! Wilbur slowly crumbled into the dark ground in pain, and as Schlatt rushed over to help him, he heard Tubbo and look over to see him in the same condition. “Fuck, fuck fuck what do I do?!”

Tubbo tried to gather his strength to stand when that same headache pain from when he arrived exploded in his head once more. He looked over toward Wilbur and crawled over to him. “Wilbur, what’s happening?”

Wilbur tried his best to appear calmer than he felt. He hissed and winced at the pluses of pain throughout his body. “I… I don’t know, but it’ll be okay, alright? It’ll be okay.” Tubbo hugged Wilbur tightly as Wilbur ran his hand up and down his back to soothe him.

“It hurts, Wilbur.”

“I know. But we’ve been through worse, right?” Wilbur tried to reassure him. “We’ll get through it, we always do.” One moment, Tubbo felt arms around him, trying to comfort him through pain, and then… they were gone. His voice began to fade. “It’ll be okay…”

Then… silence.

Tubbo felt his heart being ripped open of losing Wilbur again. Tubbo looked up at Schlatt, who pulled him into a hug as Tubbo began to sob - in pure pain. “I know kid. I know.” Schlatt whispered comfortingly.

“Schlatt, I’m scared.”

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

Cold.

Cold, and wet. 

A voice. He remembered a voice, calling out for him. It… it was Tommy. 

Where was Tommy?

A numbing feeling took over Tubbo’s body and suddenly he shot up, on top of a snow-covered mountain. It took a minute for him to calm his breathing, as he looked around at his surroundings, memories flooding back into his head - a battle. They were fighting Dream… the discs…They won - they must’ve. Tommy wouldn’t have left him here, right? As he moved to stand, he noticed how he began to float a foot or so off the ground, not now noticing his greyed-out skin. He felt weird… sluggish. He didn’t feel like… himself.

What happened?

Pinching himself, he quickly realized he can’t feel pain. Piling the evidence in his head as he stumbled down the mountain, he tripped, falling forward and bracing for impact, and-! He fell, but again, no pain. The only constant being the growing emptiness he felt at the edges of his being. 

Was he…? Surely not.

Looking down he noticed a large slash across his chest. Curious, he reached over to touch it, finally finding nerve endings as memories flashback and pain coursed through his body. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, as he slowly walked over toward a small pool of water, getting on his knees and peering over.

Surely not.

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

Tommy sat on the edge of his bed in the cell, shaking as he felt like crying, but realizing he had no tears left and feeling extremely thirsty. His eyes were red and puffy as he pulled his knees up toward his chest for the slightest bit of comfort. Usually, he’d feel stupid looking like this, but at this point, he didn’t care. In the five hours he’s been locked in the cell, Tommy figured out he didn’t care about a lot of things. Whether he ate, whether he got out of this hell hole somehow… whether or not he lived to ever see the sun again.

He didn’t have a choice anyway, no one had a choice, so what did it matter?

Within five hours, he screamed, cursed profanities as loud as he possibly could, and even tried throwing himself against the wall of the obsidian. It did nothing at all but made him tired, and left a very large bruise against his right shoulder. Part of him commended Dream on his plan. It was a brilliant one, that was for sure. This whole prison was a testement to how much he really knew him, how long he’d been planning this - because if it weren't for those iron blocks, Tommy would have thrown himself into the lava an hour ago.

He was about to turn and try to see if he could sleep forever, when a loud splash erupted his thoughts. “Fuck, why is there water here?!” He mumbled, pulling himself up against the wall.

Tommy’s eyes widened, his voice rubbed raw from the day’s events. “Wilbur?”

Wilbur, startled, nearly fell back into the small pool of water at the end of his cell again, clinging to the wall, dizzy from being manifested back into the world again. “Tommy…?”

“You’re… you’re here… you’re… whatthefuck-?!”

As Wilbur slowly got his bearings, he looked over toward Tommy warmly, smiling. “Hey, Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile back seeing his old friend. “Hey, Wil.”

“I heard you and Tubbo went up against Dream, yeah?” Wilbur looked around the cell. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Dream… he, uh, he said I brought attachment to the server, and since I’m too important to kill, he put me in here.” Tommy said, gesturing around him.

“Yeah? Huh. So get out of here, then.”

“Wilbur-” Tommy sighed. “I can’t, there is literally nothing I can do to escape. I can’t break through the walls, there’s mining fatigue. I can’t pearl out, they took all of my stuff. What would even be the point, anyway?”

Wilbur leaned against the wall, arms crossed and looking over at him thoughtfully. “That doesn’t sound like the Tommy I know.”

“Yeah, well, things changed. People changed, places changed. Everything changed after you left. And… and I have enough self-respect to know when I’ve been beaten.”

“So you’re really going to just… give up now?” Wilbur asked. 

“There’s nothing left to do but give up, Wilbur. Dream won.”

“How do you expect to get out of here if you’ve given up before you even begin?”

“Wilbur, there’s obsidian, mining fatigue, lava-”

“So you’re just letting him win?”

“Dream blew up L’manburg, Wilbur.” Tommy could see Wilbur tense out of the corner of his eye. “Dream turned everyone against me during exile by framing me for the Community House, Dream murdered Tubbo.” Tommy’s fists tightened. “Tell me, what else do I have to lose Wilbur? What’s the point of me nearly dying trying to escape with Dream tracking me night and day, what do I have to fight for, anymore?!”

Wilbur’s gaze turned soft as his hand reached out toward Tommy’s. “Tommy, I-”

“We LOST, Wilbur.” Tommy snapped. “Dream won, and we… we lost.” Wilbur was silent as he looked toward Tommy with an expression the teen couldn’t recongnize. Pity? “We lost.” Tommy managed before his body shook again, closing his eyes and letting a few new tears slip. “Look, Will, I-”

And, when he opened his eyes, Wilbur was gone.

[oikawasbliss]

10 with iwaizumi bae fuck writers block all my homies hate writers block 👺‼️

ikr fuck writers block 😒 they're the worst, the bane of my existence.

— [ 12:37 AM ] camping with the seijoh boys

note: i got carried away this was supposed to be a drabble 😭😭 idek if this is considered fluff 💀 but please enjoy!

word count: 1.1k | tags: best friends to lovers(?), manager!reader fluff & unrequited love

please reblog if enjoyed!!♡

you were in your tent alone attempting to fall asleep but all you're doing is move yourself in uncomfy positions. the repetitive turns, east and west, you had a whole tent for yourself but you couldn't seem to properly rest.

so you sat, thinking of anything else to do while watching your phone clock pass a minute, there wouldn't be anything much to do considering how almost all of the vbc members are asleep and you didn't want them to wake up with their dreams disturbed. also if there were any server connection to where you are then maybe you could've done something to ease your boredom.

you then thought of just strolling through the woods in the middle of the night, seems relaxing, alone in the dark. sounds perfect.

you felt courage as your hand reluctantly slid the zipper open of your tent.

your eyes widen in surprise as you feel warm and spot a dim brightness of fire in the distance. is someone still awake? you thought as you stood up and walked, following that has been taken to your attention.

getting near you saw a figure sitting on a log, seeing the spikes of their hair made you think that it was either the vbc members kindaichi or iwaizumi.

still, you have to be cautious in case it was neither of them, though thankfully as you get close the person was indeed iwaizumi, having almost large arms and a more dangerously spikier hair than the first year, you immediately knew it was him, well he was your best friend after all.

“ hey.. ” you called him quietly, he heard your voice and turned to you in a flash feeling like he'd get caught for staying so late in the campfire and ordering him to go back to his tent.

“ oh hey manager. ” he responded idly, facing his head back to the light of the fire.

“ oh come on, just call me by my name. ” you then carely took a seat beside him, “ why are you up this late? ”

“ should ask you the same, why are you awake? ”

“ hmm… ” you slightly squint your eyes, thinking of a reason as to why you are still standing awake, you should've taken the question back to him but you felt like actually giving a reason for him to answer back. “ i can't sleep? well i was the first one to sleep but i just seem to not… you know? ”

iwaizumi lets out a short chuckle, “ i get it, don't worry. ”

after that the whole air between you two turned quiet, only the clicking of the fire burning the wood beneath it.

you didn't want to sleep and go back to your tent, you just got up and you're not gonna go back now because of the awkward silence.

you broke the silence and started making up a topic that you two will talk about.

and you guys did, talking and transitioning to a new topic as you guys go on. smiles plastered to both of your faces as one another tells their story, you didn't even have to check the time if it's late or not, you sure as heck don't feel sleepy at all, you want to keep talking and talking. well, it's always been fun talking to iwaizumi, you don't want this babbling to end.

after a long series of laughter you two stopped trying to consume more of the hot breeze made by the flame in front of you two.

“ it's been forever since we've talked like this.. ” the man brought up, raising both of his hands to warm them by the warm air.

you felt that this is getting in a deep turn, but it's also a relief that you two are able to be open to each other after days acting like you two have a neutral relationship.

“ well, it's mostly on me, i had a lot of things to work on and i guess i got too busy… ”

“ oh no! don't blame yourself, we were all really busy and didn't have time to hang out, oikawa really missed us three being together. ”

the edges of your lip curled slightly, grinning by the words the other said. “ it's been that long huh? ”

“ —if only that man is still awake maybe we'll have more fun together. ” your smile transitioned to a smirk, wiggling your brows making that bulb of his light up to get the hint, and he did.

“ wanna wake him up? ” he asked, darting his eyes at the tent the brunette's currently sleeping in.

“ it's like you read my mind. ” your smile becomes wider as you place your hands on the log, helping you to stand up.

“ wait— before we do that. can i talk to you for a sec? ” he intervened, you don't know if he's serious or not, regardless you still chose to stay and listen.

the truth is he likes you, a lot. but these feelings for you were only kept to himself, not telling anyone, not even oikawa, though he had this fear of losing connection to you even more considering how poorly you guys are getting along with the packed schedules that were assigned to both of you.

it would sound weird to confess immediately, for this was iwaizumi's original plan, to confess properly but he didn't think this was the good time to do so.

“ ha...hajime? ” you hesitantly tilt your head to see the other's face, lost in thought, what will he say? you thought. this sounds serious, it will totally ruin the vibe when waking up oikawa but… i still want to listen. you kept talking to yourself inside your head until hajime faces up and looks at you.

“ I don’t know if you know this but, I love you. ”

there was silence, you didn't know if he's serious at all, he just said that out of the blue.

if he was... who are you to reject him?

“ wha— huh?— that was so sudden. ” you gasp as if like a bulb above your head lit up. “ was that a confession?! ” you added in a teasing tone, your eyes widened, and your lips smiled subconsciously.

iwaizumi didn't know what he just said too, it just vomited out of his mouth.

he blinked, grinned and looked up to the stars displayed at the beautiful night sky.

“ whatever or however you understood it. ”

your hues quickly faced to the other, his eyes were glistening by the reflection of the stars above, however i understood it? you thought to yourself once more, well your first thoughts on what he said was a confession, confessing his love for you, but you didn't want to assume quickly, but he said that to you, the exact three words, then he probably really meant that.

you furrow your eyes in curiosity, you wanted to force him to say what he actually meant by it, but at the same time, your pride told you that it was indeed a confession.

you slowly lay your head onto his shoulder, a grin plastered on your face as you two continued to watch the stars

“ you know? i love you too. ”

[randomfandomimagine]

Reunion (Cloud Strife x Reader)

Characters: Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Tifa Lockhart (feat. Jessie, Biggs, Wedge and others)

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Tags: Reunions, crossdressing, angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Mentions of death, spoilers for Crisis Core

Word Count: 4k words

Requested by anon: could you do a ficlet with a fem! reader for a Platonic!Cloud? my idea is where the reader was in SOLDIER (disguised as a guy) and when Hojo found out they kicked you out (quite violently). You were really close with Cloud and Zack, but once you were gone they thought they killed you. In other words I just want an angsty sweet reunion when he finds you working for avalanche back at the Seventh Heaven. (Points if you’re close with Tifa too). Thank you! I love your work so much! Ur a blessing ♡ 

A/N: I have never beat the original FFVII and I’m not sure what happens in canon with Cloud’s memories, so I took some artistic liberties to write this. Hope you enjoy!! Please please please give this some love, I worked so hard on it!!

Cloud Strife x Female Reader

_

[ B/N: Boy Name ]

.

Many terrors haunted Cloud. There were too many things he had lost, too many people he missed and too many burdens he carried. However, no matter how much he tried to forget them all or how tangled his mind was, one seemed to stand out: you. He had befriended you during his SOLDIER days, an unlikely friend in a strange place.

He vividly remembered you: the way your eyes twinkled when you spotted him, your shy smile and your gentle expression, the playfulness in your voice when you teased him. He thought of you fondly, one of the few things in his past that weren’t tainted by evil. Even then, you had still turned into a bad memory. Your mere existence made him sad because of your early demise. You had only ever been kind and still your fate was cruel and undeserved. Your only crime had been lying, and even that he wouldn’t blame you for. Others, however, found that sin to be unforgivable and punished you for it. With a sentence of death.

“Cloud?” Tifa called his name, bringing him back to reality. “Still with me?”

“Uh… yeah” He straightened up, surprised upon realizing how crestfallen he had made himself with his own thoughts. “Lead the way”

“I’m excited” His friend smiled, leading him to the Seventh Heaven. “We finally get to meet our new member. Everyone has been so secretive about them”

“Why?” Cloud focused on trying to follow the conversation, even if his thoughts pulled him back to the past.

“They’re Avalanche’s secret weapon”

“Hm…”

Tifa, not really catching his disinterest, continued talking.

“Apparently they have some serious military training”

“Uh-huh…”

Her voice became a dull background noise as his thoughts drifted without remedy. Even if she kept speaking, he had stopped listening.

He had dreamt about you again last night, and his mind betrayed him by dwelling on your memory. Inevitably, he drifted off to past thoughts, to his SOLDIER days when everything seemed exciting. He felt insecure and unworthy, but he was willing to improve. He was prepared to work hard and make his way to 1st Class. Zack was constantly by his side, taking Cloud under his wing. You completed the trio, and he couldn’t help but to think back to when he met you.

A tall boy with dark hair and sky blue eyes stood in the training room, crossing his arms and watching how the new recruits finished their exercise. He noticed how one of them struggled more than the rest and was more than happy to give him a little hand.

“Hey, newbie” He walked over to a specific soldier who just then finished with the squats. “Need some help there?”

You shook your head, completely breathless after the exercise, and leaned back on your butt until you were sitting down. Joining SOLDIER had been your dream for a long time, wanting to become strong enough to be able to help people. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, just didn’t imagine it would be this hard and exhausting.

“Come on” He held his hand out for you to take. “We all need help sometimes”

With a sigh, you took his hand in yours and let him pull you up. Once you were standing on your feet, you leaned your hands on your knees. It was hard to catch your breath. Despite how athletic you were, this was on a whole new level.

When you dared to look up at the boy, you found him showing you a wide friendly grin. Beside him now was a blond guy, with kind blue eyes that went along with his meek expression.

“It’s okay” The blond muttered. “It takes a bit to get used to”

You nodded your head, managing a tired smile in appreciation. The other one observed you in a mixture between amusement and sympathy and patted your back.

“You did well for the first day” He told you. “What’s your name?”

“Uh…. B/N” You carefully watched his reaction, and your heart began racing in anticipation.

“B/N? Nice to meet you” Unaware of your nervousness upon introducing yourself, he offered you his hand. “I’m Zack, this is Cloud”

You shook his hand, and waved with the other one at his blond friend. He timidly reciprocated with a small wave.

“Tell you what, kid” Zack put his arm over your shoulders, and you tensed up. “I’ll keep an eye on you and help you out”

An irrational fear took over you, as it was the first time someone got so close to you. Even if you had managed to push your way into SOLDIER without arising any suspicions over yourself, you were afraid they would know. Your secret was far too important to air it out, and it could get you in trouble. Big trouble.

While you appreciated Zack’s offer, you feared his friendship too much. What if he found out who you really were? How would he react? Would he still be friendly if he knew? Would he give you in to the authorities to have you punished for daring to deceive everyone?

“Don’t overwhelm him….” Cloud bashfully defended you, definitely noticing your awkwardness.

“No worries, Cloudy” Zack brushed it off. “B/N here just needs to get out of his shell”

“We…” The other one added. “We can help you train if you want”

“That would be nice” You replied, purposefully making your voice deeper.

“That’s the spirit!” The dark-haired boy chuckled. “And relax, man, you’re so tense!”

You lowered your shoulders, which were almost up to your ears. Still, even if you were trying to act natural you couldn’t relax, you couldn’t stop being tense. Because what would happen if anyone at SOLDIER realized you were a girl?

-

You nervously tapped your foot against the ground. Although you had joined Avalanche a bit ago and were starting to get used to it, you still got jittery. Even after the mission was over, the nerves still conquered your stomach.

“I swear, Y/N!” Jessie tugged at your hand, making you look at her instead of that far off point that you were staring at without seeing it. “You’re gonna love him!”

“Am I?” You smiled at her, pretending not to be restless still.

That recent mission reminded you too much of SOLDIER. It was ironic that Shinra, the very thing you once were a part of and now were trying to escape, had become what you were fighting against, confronting it head-on. It seemed to haunt you even as you adamantly tried to bring it down. 

To make matters worse, Barret had announced to the group that they were calling their mercenary contact for the next mission. You hadn’t been with them long enough to have met him, because in those couple of days you had barely even grown accustomed to their company. 

Barret didn’t talk to you more than necessary, even if you could tell he was a big softie, especially when you saw him with his daughter Marlene. Biggs and Wedge had been kind and welcoming while still trying to give you some space. Jessie was the most outspoken, and clearly the one more determined to make you feel at home. It painfully reminded you of someone else whose personality was bubbly and extroverted that you had met in the past.

“For sure!” Her very voice snapped you out of your nervous thoughts again. “Cloud is the best, even if he likes to pretend like he’s a tough guy”

You tried not to wince at the mention of his name. How cruel was it that you ran into someone else called Cloud? A part of you had hoped it was the same Cloud you befriended in SOLDIER, but it just wasn’t possible. He must have become a SOLDIER, 1st Class like he wanted to. Who knew? You might even have fought him with Avalanche without realizing, unaware that his spiky blond hair and kind blue eyes were hidden under one of those helmets.

You shook your head. No. It just so happened that there was another Cloud in Midgard. It was too painful to get your hopes up for a sweet reunion… even if you had daydreamed about it countless times. Cloud and Zack had been so important to you… Fondly looking back at them, you hoped they were doing okay.

Zack’s laughter was contagious, and you couldn’t suppress a smile as you triumphantly stood up and towered over Cloud. Pouting a bit, he averted his gaze and didn’t move from the spot, sitting on the ground and leaning an elbow on his propped up knee.

“And the winner is… B/N!” Zack took your arm and lifted it up. “I knew you had it in you, kid”

Cloud still didn’t speak. His cheeks were a deep shade of pink, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the squats you had beat him at or because of the embarrassment. Maybe both.

“Okay, Zack” You playfully pushed him off you, moving towards Cloud. “Stop torturing him”

“I’m not torturing anyone, he did great” Zack leaned down to pat his friend’s shoulder. “You just did better”

Even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud, a sense of pride bubbled in your chest. Boys were generally stronger than girls, but you had bested one of them after training hard for weeks on end. Still, you felt bad for Cloud and offered him a hand.

“No hard feelings?”

“Sure”

He smiled at you as you pulled him up, wobbling because of all his weight. Zack chuckled as he put his hands on your back to stabilize you.

“Who would have known a skinny guy like you would become such a good SOLDIER?”

The comment might have offended you when you first met him, but you knew Zack meant it as a compliment. After all, you would never forget the day you first met. You had felt helpless and not capable of making it in SOLDIER. You were shorter and smaller, but you didn’t let that stop you. Now you were stronger and resilient, even more so than some of the boys there.

The three of you gasped, startled, when the door to the training room suddenly swung open. In came Sephiroth, Hojo and Lazard, seemingly very angry and determined.

“No…” You uttered, with a nasty feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if…?

No, you had been very careful. It was impossible. You had disguised yourself to the point that not even Cloud and Zack discovered you despite being so close, despite spending so much time together. You had even found a way to avoid Hojo’s tests, knowing he would discover your identity if you got too close. They had no way of finding out… right?

“That’s her” Sephiroth pointed a finger at you, bearing no expression.

“Her?” Zack repeated, taking a step forward. “What’s going on?”

“B/N is an imposter!” Hojo accused, scowling at you. “She is a woman”

“What?” Your friend shook his head at them. “There must be a misunderstanding”

Terrified of what they might do, you took a few steps back. Cloud stood behind you, and you stepped right into him. His hands protectively fell on the small of your back, and when you looked up you found with his gentle blue eyes. They were so expressive. There was confusion in them, but also alarm and concern and fear all at once.

“Get her” Lazard said, and just then two soldiers appeared from behind him.

“No!” You screamed as they approached you. “Please!”

In your panic, you retreated more into Cloud and pressed yourself against his chest. You felt his fingers hold on to the fabric of your shirt.

“No, don’t touch him!” Zack insisted, helplessly watching as the soldiers reached you. “You’re making a mistake!”

You exclaimed as the soldiers reached you and took ahold of you. Cloud didn’t hesitate to hold on to you, tightly grabbing you by the arms.  The four of you struggled, but the soldiers were stronger.

“Stop that!” Zack begged them still, wincing at the sight of you.

Tears streamed down your face, knowing what awaited you if they took you. Now screaming, you were calling anyone for help. Cloud was your last hope as you tightly clung on to him, but they separated you from him.

“No!” He joined Zack in his attempts. “Stop it!”

“Lazard, please! I’m sure B/N isn’t-“ The brunette’s words were suddenly interrupted.

“Then what’s this?” Hojo showed them a picture, and everyone grew silent.

It was you in the photo, without a doubt. Before you cut your hair, before you hid your breasts and took all necessary precautions to pass as a boy. 

The chaos that had erupted in the room suddenly came to a halt, replaced by a heavy awed atmosphere to replace the previously frantic one.

“What…?” Cloud uttered, watching you in astonishment.

“You’re a girl…” Zack said as well, even though is voice was a mixture of sadness and understanding. 

“Don’t just stand there!” Hojo urged the soldiers, who came back to their senses.

“Take her” Lazard insisted when his subordinates turned to him for confirmation.

Shaking from head to toe, you let yourself be grabbed by them. Your mind was racing, frozen with the reminder of your friends faces. They weren’t angry, they didn’t feel betrayed. They were only surprised. You had been too scared to tell them, but now you realized you could have. How could you have doubted them?

“Wait…” Cloud stuttered as tears reached his eyes. “Wait, don’t… don’t hurt her!”

“Sephiroth…” Zack desperately called. “Sephiroth, do something! Don’t let them take her!”

The 1st Class Soldier didn’t say anything. He only turned around as you were dragged away from your friends. Sephiroth glanced down and faced his back to them.

You tensed up when you heard a cry full of rage, followed by Zack throwing himself to them. Cloud made to move, wanting to support his friend, but he was still too taken aback by the situation to act.

Obeying a gesture from Lazard, two more soldiers entered the room and intercepted Zack. He struggled against them, fighting to return by your side and save you.

“Don’t!” You pleaded, letting yourself use your natural voice for the first time in months. “Don’t do this, Zack”

“I don’t care if you’re a boy or a girl, I won’t let them-”

“Let me go” You shook your head, trying to put an end to his endeavor. “Don’t get hurt because of me”

You quickly glanced at Cloud behind him, noticing how his eyes were drowned in tears. He was still frozen in place, prey of an overwhelming shock and uncertainty. The sight made your own tears overflow, staining the track that the old ones left again.

“Take care…” You whispered to him, trying to memorize his face. A last comfort before you met your end.

Cloud parted his lips, but they only shook as no words left them. A tear rolled down his cheek, and it was too painful to keep looking at him. Glancing at Zack, you realized he was now just as heartbroken. He had given up, understood that it was impossible to fight for you.

Accepting your fate, you began moving. You exited the room and heard the door loudly closing behind you. A ruckus broke out inside it as Zack still fought against them. A second person had joined him in his outrage, and you sobbed knowing it was Cloud.

You walked directly behind Sephiroth, who walked beside Hojo and Lazard. As you were taken with them, Sephiroth’s long silver hair and his broad back was etched in your memory. It would be one of the last things you’d see. Just like the voices of your dear friends would be one of the last things you’d hear as they called out for you, by the fake name they knew you by but still begging for your life.

Even if you trusted them, you had been too afraid to completely expose yourself to them. What would have happened if you did? What would have happened if you told them you were a girl? A part of you had always known the answer: they would have protected you. Zack and Cloud cared about you, not because you were a boy or a girl or anything else… they cared about you because they were your friends... because you were their friend.

You hadn’t trusted them with your secret. You had been too afraid to tell them. And know they would have to live with your death.

-

Everything seemed oddly silent, as if the usual sounds had dimmed slightly. There was the murmur of voices inside the bar, but no loudness. Cloud’s boots seemed to echo as his feet moved over the wooden steps that led to the entrance. Even Tifa, who seemed so talkative, had grown quiet. Cloud brushed that feeling off, assuming it had more to do with his thoughtful mood. Everything was normal.

When he came in, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Barret played with Marlene, Biggs and Wedge talked and laughed, and Jessie was high-fiving someone she was talking to.

“Hello!” Tifa cheerfully greeted everyone, gathering their attention.

You looked up to find out who that mysterious merc was. The sun behind him shadowed his slim figure as well as the curvier one that accompanied him. Mildly curious, you kept your gaze glued to them as they walked in. Once the door closed behind them, your eyes grew used to the light and you could see them properly.

The woman was slightly familiar, but you didn’t pay mind to her as she walked behind the bar. It was the man who you were more interested in. When you took a good look at him, your heart skipped a beat.

That merc, that man allegedly called Cloud, walked in without noticing you. His eyes had fallen on you, but there was no recognition in them. Barret was telling the newcomer something, but you didn’t hear.

Surely, your mind was playing tricks on you, and that man looked more like Cloud to you than he actually did. Of course, it wasn’t him. It was an amazing coincidence that on top of the name he also had spiky blond hair, but that was the only similitude with your memory of Cloud. This man before you was cold and rough, nothing like the sweet, meek and shy boy you knew. His eyes were also greener than you remembered. Still, the more you stared at him, the more you realized… it was Cloud. Despite the change in his demeanor, in his eyes, in the way he carried himself, in his entire persona... it was Cloud, the one you knew years ago. The one whose face you had tried to memorize as you resigned yourself to your death.

Destiny was capricious. You had survived and you had escaped. He had too. And now you were together again. You both had followed similar paths.

“Y/N?” Biggs called you, gently shaking your shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, you just got very pale” Wedge’s words seemed to alarm the rest as well.

Everyone turned to you, but you only had eyes for one of them. Your feet moved on their own as you approached Cloud with determination.

“What the hell?” He whispered, frowning as you directly went over to him.

“Cloud” You threw your arms around his neck, feeling too happy and relieved to see him to realize his reaction. “It’s so good to see you!”

“What’s going on?” He spoke up, his voice sounded annoyed as his arms lifted a little trying to avoid touching you. “Do I know you?”

“You…” Slowly pulling away, you stared into his eyes. “You don’t recognize me?”

Cloud hesitated, and so did you. His voice was so… deep, so irritated and so harsh. He really felt nothing like the boy you had known. What had happened? He changed so much…

Your vulnerable expression seemed to snap something in him, because his eyes suddenly grew wide. His mouth fell agape, staring at you as though you were a ghost.

“B/N?” He uttered, recognizing your features despite never having seen you as a girl. Except that one time in that picture, when he thought it would be the last. “You’re alive?”

“B/N, is that really you?” The woman who had walked in with him uttered from behind the bar. It finally clicked why she was so familiar. If that was indeed Cloud, that had to be…

“Tifa!” You ran to each other, colliding in a warm hug accompanied by breathless tearful chuckles.

Despite not being close, you had known Tifa through Cloud and Zack. She had always been kind and friendly and you were so glad to see her, comforted by her familiar face and warm demeanor.

“You look good as a girl” She joked, breaking away to take a good look at you.

“Thanks, I-“ You began to say, but were interrupted by a deep voice.

“B/N” Cloud said, staring at you as though you were the only person in the room. Despite the emotion in his eyes, his expression remained neutral. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“No…” You whispered, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat. “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N…” He repeated, nodding his head in deep thought.

The temperature of the room seemed to fall drastically. Something in his tone was ice cold. The silence was absolute, only interrupted by the noise coming from the windows, a reminder that life went on outside of the bar.

“Um… you’ll explain everything later” Biggs muttered, standing next to the pinball machine. “Seems like you need a moment alone”

“Yup, leave you guys to it!” Jessie awkwardly said, sinking into the secret room. One by one, all of her friends followed until you were alone with Tifa and Cloud.

“We have a lot of catching up to do” Tifa sweetly smiled, returning behind the bar. “I’ll prepare some drinks”

You and Cloud stood before one another. His eyes never once left you, looking you up and down as though trying to make sure that you were actually there, that you were real and not one of his many dreams.

“Well…” You awkwardly said, needing to break that suffocating silence. “Where’s Zack?”

Cloud suddenly grimaced, groaning and clutching his head. Concerned, you were about to lean in and put a hand on his arm, but ultimately decided not to do it. You still weren’t sure he wasn’t mad at you. After all, you kept an important secret from him. You lied to him and pretended to be someone you were not. All of this was something you didn’t know he could forgive and you were too scared that he would push you away.

“B/N… I mean, Y/N?” Tifa called, and so you glanced at her. She only shook her head.

The air suddenly left your lungs as you understood what that somber gesture meant. A sob got caught in your throat at the realization. You had been lucky enough to reunite with Cloud, but you would never be able to see Zack again.

Turning back to the blond, you wondered the impact this had on him. After all, he and Zack had been very close and when you left, believing you were dead…

“Oh!” You gasped when a force suddenly made you stumble.

Confused, you paused to notice Cloud’s arms wrapped around you. They urgently pressed you against his chest. An invisible weight seemed to be lifted off your chest as you accepted and treasured his embrace with a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad you’re okay…” He whispered, and in his voice you recognized that softer tone you had been used to. The old Cloud seemed to be shining through the cracks as the new fake Cloud fell apart.

He was breathing heavily, squeezing you against him so tightly that he was hurting you. In spite of it all, you didn’t have the heart to complain. You almost couldn’t breathe, but it could have been because you were starting to sob.

“You too” You cried against his shoulder, now bawling your eyes out as you clung on to his shirt and he held you still.

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[aks3raao1]

Danganronpa shorts: Luck in a mansion

It was a rather cloudy day when Kazuichi had an idea. A rather strange and disastrous idea, if I, Hajime Hinata, were being honest.

"So, let's go to this mansion! I heard it was scientifically interesting!"

Kazuichi Soda was a rather cowardly man and his defining characteristic was crushing over a woman (and making her uncomfortable with his advances) who would never return his feelings. He was truly hopeless in that regard and prone to fits of jealousy towards anyone who got close to her.

However, he had another side to him. He was also the Ultimate Mechanic and had been accepted by Hope's Peak for that reason. Thus, whenever he came upon a machine, his first instinct was to attempt to open it up and see how it worked. I suppose his fascination with machines in this manner is somewhat similar to Nagito's fascination with hope.

Speaking of which—

"What a hopeful idea, Kazuichi! I am sure the scientific mysteries of the mansion would give rise to hope when solved by someone as great as you!" Nagito Komaeda said, a little starry eyed. Well, that wasn't unexpected since he appeared to try and find hope....virtually everywhere.

However, it was an unspoken thing in our class that we are likelier to be less confident in things after Nagito's over blown praises than more confident unless it benefited the person being praised.

Now, it benefitted Kazuichi.

"Yeah, we all might find something for ourselves too!!! Besides it would be a fun outing!!!"

"Your hope for this outing is so beautiful, Kazuichi, I am sure it will turn out as the Ultimate Outing!" Nagito went on, ecstatic.

"Errr, yeah," Kazuichi looked mildly uncomfortable at that and I swallowed a retort of, "A taste of your own medicine, huh?" and instead said,

"Well, happy outing, you too, then."

"Wait no, you are coming with us as well," Kazuichi said, "No way in hell am I going with this weirdo alone."

I wonder what made him think that I wanted to go alone with two weirdos who were drunk on their respective obsessions. Atleast Kazuichi was less likelier to murder people due to said obsession but still.

"So Hajime is in," Kazuichi said, not waiting for my answer.

"Wait, I never said—"

"—however it appears that you need four people according to the ticket, Kazuichi, so it appears that you need to invite another person," Nagito said, completely ignoring me and looking over the paper Kazuichi was clutching in his hand.

"I do, yes," Kazuichi said, "Miss Sonia would you—"

She pretended as if he did not exist.

Downtrodden Kazuichi went on, "I can kick out Nagito if you want—"

Still no response.

Utterly crushed, Kazuichi turned back to us.

"So.....," his enthusiasm was noticeably less than before, "I...."

"Don't give up hope, Kazuichi! I am sure something would turn up for you at the mansion!"

This caused me to feel like Nagito just wanted to go to that super mysterious mansion. Well, I suppose my own curiosity had been spiked as well due to the ambiguous way Kazuichi framed it.

"You think?" Kazuichi said, looking slightly more hopeful.

"Absolutely! There's hope in that mansion!"

Slightly uncomfortable, Kazuichi scratched his neck.

"Well, I suppose I can't turn this down......but we need another person."

He looked around the place and I sent a silent prayer to the unfortunate person who would grab his eye.

"Hey, Fuyuhiko—!"

Now I felt sorry for Kazuichi.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu was the Ultimate Yakuza and rather foul mouthed and brash despite his small stature. He was also the last person who would get dragged into such a thing.

Or so had I thought, woefully underestimating Kazuichi's persuasion skills.

"What is it?" Fuyuhiko snapped, "What do you want?"

"Hey, want to go with us to this mansion?" Kazuichi said, walking over and sitting down in front of him with a wide shark like grin.

"...who's us?" Fuyuhiko said.

"Hajime, me and Nagito."

"....I am not going."

"Why, do you want to make out with Peko or something?"

"No, what the fuck."

"Come on, please, we just need another member and you are perfect for that."

"I said I am not going—"

Kazuichi proceeded to whine and annoy the living hell out of Fuyuhiko for the next one hour, causing him to give in. Evidently, his dedication to machines was more than his personal pride.

~

A day later, we were all standing in front of the mansion.

The weather was still cloudy. The weather forecast hadn't informed us about any rain, but considering that Nagito was tagging along.....well anything was possible. Already he was sporting bandaged arms when he had arrived today and seemed apprehensive to go with us. However Kazuichi had dragged him along anyways, with a, "No backsies."

I had asked him about the bandaged arms and his reply had been,

"Ahaha, it's the bad luck for the good luck that an Ultimate would invite such a worthless person like me........all I would do is bring along bad luck, however I am sure the Ultimates can overcome that."

If just going on a fun trip punished him in this manner, I suppose I can see why he is the way he is. In a way. I don't think I will ever come close to understanding Nagito Komaeda.

"So, we are staying here for a week, okay?" Kazuichi said, bringing out the keys. They were huge and fit for such an ancient mansion like this.

He unlocked the door. We pushed it together, causing it to swing back with a groan.

Silence.

That was the first thing I noted about this place. How absolutely silent it was.

The next thing I noticed was how dark it was.

Fuyuhiko took out a lighter to light the torches, looking creeped out himself.

"Oi, Kazuichi, I thought this was a scientific mystery, not a test of courage in a haunted house," he said, grumbling.

"...a scientific mystery is what they called it," Kazuichi said, looking confused himself.

"Ah, I am sure we can use science to investigate a paranormal mystery! If it can be solved using science, then it makes it a scientific mystery!" Nagito pointed out.

"I suppose so."

"I still have a bad feeling about this place.....," I muttered, going to help Fuyuhiko with the lights, "Besides, do we have a map?"

"Right in front of you, Hajime," Nagito chirped and I turned around to see that indeed, there was a map right in front of me.

"It looks like your hidden Talent could be Ultimate Map Summoner," he joked next, going to check the map in question.

"Lay off that already."

I might have forgotten my Ultimate Talent but that didn't give him the permission to rub it into my face at every turn.

Kazuichi used the light of the torches to check the keys.

"The numbers inscribed on the keys correspond to that on the map," Nagito spoke. This guy had some seriously good skills of observation. For a brief moment, I wondered why he isn't the Ultimate Detective instead.

"I see," Kazuichi went to check the map as well and began matching the keys to the map, "The map is incomplete....it looks too small for such a huge place.....wait, it's burnt off at the end."

"....ah."

Having finished lighting the torches, Fuyuhiko and I went to check the map in question as well. To allow Fuyuhiko to see it, Nagito moved back.

"Well, I am sure Ultimates such as yourselves would be able to figure out the rest of the map."

"Dude, we none of us are the Ultimate Mansion Map Imaginer over here," Kazuichi said, rolling his eyes.

Nagito looked at me.

"Definitely not," I said, "The map is extremely weird."

"I wonder which dumbass thought it would be a great idea to burn this map off," Fuyuhiko grumbled, "This better not be a prank Kazuichi."

"Why don't the lot of you believe me," Kazuichi spoke, "I saw this place at the same time as you all did. I originally got the ticket from my uncle who asked me to visit this place with three other people."

"Highly suspicious uncle, I see," Fuyuhiko said, "Well it would be the best to explore what areas we can explore and keep our stuff in the bedrooms."

"There are two bedrooms," I said squinting at the map, "Or that's what I can get from this map anyways."

"Well then we have to share it!" Kazuichi said, most cheerfully.

".....what," the rest of us chorused.

None of us had ever heard such a suggestion before.

".....share one bedroom between us, isn't that the most obvious conclusion?" Kazuichi tried again.

"I am too worthless to—," Nagito started up.

"We aren't that chummy—," Fuyuhiko spoke up.

"...sounds rather embarassing," I said.

Faced with our combined refusal, Kazuichi took a step back in exasperation.

"Then do you all geniuses have a better idea????"

"Yes," Fuyuhiko spoke before any of us could, "Explore the mansion and find atleast two more bedrooms."

".......you guys are so dedicated to being tsundere that it's honestly really sad," Kazuichi said, checking the keys again.

"Hey, what was that for—," I started.

"How fucking dare you," Fuyuhiko growled.

".....Uh, since none of us want to share rooms, I suppose we should split up and search? After all, it would be troublesome if we got lost," Nagito said, trying to quell us. It worked, apparently since Kazuichi nodded appreciatively.

"Nagito and Hajime can go together," he said, giving half the keys to me, "And Fuyuhiko can come with me."

Suffice to say, neither Fuyuhiko nor I were too happy about our respective partners, however we chose not to argue.

Kazuichi pushed open the door to the entrance hall which had electric lights on for some reason.

"Let's go."

~~~~~~

"It would be rather interesting if your hidden Talent could come into play here," Nagito said while we searched the kitchen. It was, shockingly enough, filled with modern amenities, which caused me to wonder what the hell was up with the first corridor. It was probably for show, though. And Nagito was still hung over my Talent since we started walking together, making me wish I had brought a duct tape to seal his mouth with.

"I don't see why you are so obsessed with my Talent," I said, searching the microwave. It had a single roasted chicken. It looked rather appetizing.

"What, don't you want to know what Talent got you into Hope's Peak? Maybe your hidden Talent is Ultimate Amnesia for all we know...."

"That's a mental disorder, not something to excel at," I grumbled, taking the chicken out.

"Hm...?" Nagito appeared to have caught smell of the roasted chicken and came over, ".......how odd."

"Well—," my sentence remained incomplete as a light came out of the open microwave and sucked Nagito to God knows where like something out of a sci fi movie.

The chicken dropped from my hand in shock.

"NAGITO?????"

~~~~~~

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu with anyone who wasn't Peko Pekoyama happened to make a rather caustic pair.

Especially right now, when he was searching a bedroom that resembled that of a hospital with Kazuichi Souda. Kazuichi had been needling him on tips to get a girl (Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess) to like him, because apparently he was supposed to be an expert on that somehow since he had Peko. He tried to explain that they had just been raised from birth and that they were best friends for that reason. Kazuichi looked downtrodden at that, prompting him to ask whether he had brought him along just to question that.

"Well," he said rather shamelessly, "I can't ask Hajime or Nagito for that, can I?"

Fuyuhiko felt the beginnings of a severe migraine in his head.

He would have to use all his patience in the following week to not murder this guy on spot.

"GUYS—," a rather shrill voice rang out, causing the both of them to jump and bump their heads against one another.

Hajime had come and he was looking extremely frightened and entirely out of his element. Hajime was someone who was extremely likely to faint at shocking events and tended to react strongly to abnormal things, so it was not a shock to see him freaked out. However, what was a shock was the absence of the cotton candy haired guy running after him in attempts of placating him.

Which led Fuyuhiko to assume that the reason was definitely Nagito.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nagito got sucked inside a microwave and disappeared," Hajime said, panting.

".....pardon the fuck?"

".....This must be the scientific mystery they talked about in the brochure," Kazuichi said, eyes wide in excitement and slight fear, "Nagito's luck caused him to find it."

~~

It was a bland tasteless white room, whiter than even his own hair. Equipment was scattered around on the metal tables. Cupboards overflowed with bundles of paper and files. There was a projector at the far corner of the room.

Nagito Komaeda groggily rubbed at his face with his hands.

Ultimate Luck was truly something.

He turned his throbbing head around to check behind him. There was a gramaphone's trumpet there, sitting innocently. However, he was perfectly aware of exactly how innocent it was.

He looked at the room again. It was huge and there were no doors nor windows. It was, to say, an entirely sealed room apart from the gramaphone record that he assumed served as the pathway from the kitchen's microwave to this room.

He closed his eyes and exhaled.

[1/2]

Kazuichi is hopeless beyond sjjsjwjwjw