#like he's upset about burning in the sunlight and not having a reflection but the blood drinking doesn't faze him

[rackartyg]

hmm i don't think the nuances of astarion's reaction to araj is to do with him finding romanticisation of his vampirism specifically to be distasteful so much as, like, she's objectifying him and that's what he doesn't like (but instead of sex, it's based on his vampirism). something something there's a difference between strangers and someone you trust something

[materlux]

Sunlight on Snow.

Jiaoqiu has me in a chokehold, I love me a pathetic (affectionatly) man.

Location for this fic is heavily inspired by my latest brainrot fic: Star-shaped by Milksnake-tea (go read it, it's very good!!)

CW: 2nd person perspective, reader called 'little star', fluff? Idk it's pretty tame.

Honkai Star Rail | Main Masterlist

The wind pulls at your loose t-shirt, it nips at the exposed skin of your legs and arms. Snowflakes gently fall around you and the snow coating the ground deepens. You should be feeling cold, actually you should be dead, frozen to death by the harsh winds and low temperature. 

   If you were dead, maybe your frozen corpse would be used like a landmark on a mountain, guiding fools through a snowstorm.

   But you aren’t dead and it’s weird, you admit that it must be freaking out the wild life, a small group of deer trail after you. If it were possible for animals to feel like humans, you’d think it was a kind of morbid curiosity to see how long you’d last, but they don’t, you think.

   Truth be told you don’t know much about mortal lives, you have encountered them before in your endless life, made friends with them, even lovers. But that doesn’t mean you understand them all, for every planet you find, new forms of mortal life greet you, all different in nature and belief.

   You have yet to encounter any living mortal life that you could speak to on this planet, the ones you have found in the fields of white were all frozen solid.

   Snow crunches under your feet, cold air fills your not-really-there lungs. A smell you recognise comes with each breath, smoke, you conclude, a common smell associated with civilisation.

   You look out over the horizon spotting a line of dark grey cutting into the pale clouds, like flint splitting an otherwise clean white rock. The deer trailing you must smell and see it too, cause they turn and leave.

   Going towards the smoke, you find a camp of tents: Primitive housing made of fabrics or furs, wood and a kind of rope, often used as temporary homes. You wander around the outskirts of the camp, behind the tents. They seem to be in a horse-shoe-like shape, curving around a large fire pit. Above the fire sits a dark metal cauldron, a new smell fills your senses, it’s strong and burns in a way you haven’t felt before.

   The camp is empty, lights inside the tents cast long shadows across the fabric and reflect on the pearly snow. With the coast clear you move closer to the cauldron, keeping your hands to yourself, you peer over the edge into the red liquid inside. The smell becomes stronger, it burns your nostrils all the way into your bones, it’s electrifying. It makes your eyes water in a familiar sensation, but this time you don’t feel it in your heart.

   A young man exits a tent with a small bag in hand, he reminds you of other mortal beings you have met before. A pair of tall ears twitch in the harsh wind, a large fluffy tail flicks from side to side, sending snowflakes flying. He stops short of the cauldron, his eyes open and his brows furrow, you wonder if something has upset him. You look over your shoulder, but see nothing but endless white, snowy plains blending in with white clouds.

   “What are you doing out here?” The man questions, his other hand comes up to his chin as he tilts his head. “Did you wander over from a nearby village?” He wonders quietly, his eyes close again.

   “No,” you answer simply, you haven’t seen any villages nearby. “I was walking and then I saw the smoke, and I came to investigate.” You rattle off your walk through the snow, the animals you encountered and the dead you saw. He looks at you, perplexed by your presence.

   “Are you not cold? It’s freezing out here, even I could use some more layers.” He looks over your flimsy, loose clothing. He’s dressed in a heavy red jacket that’s closed all the way up to his chin, large fur lined boots peek over the snow.

   You shake your head, he walks over and studies you closer. He undoes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the tail of it grazes the snow and the weight makes you sink. He sits down on a log and picks up the little bag again, he opens it and begins adding things to the cauldron.

   “Won’t you get cold without this?” You gesture to the jacket, the fabric is dense but soft.

   “Maybe, but you need it more than I do.” He smiles at you, kindness, compassion, these are common qualities among mortal beings.

   “But I don’t need it,” you say deadpan. He looks at you, his brows furrow again and his smile disappears.

   “You aren’t dressed for this weather.” He’s becoming more confused by the minute, which makes sense you suppose. You shrug off the coat and throw back over his shoulders, you sit down on the log beside him, the skin of your legs meeting the cold wood and snow.

   “Okay, so, I’m not like you,” you start off. “I’m a star, a sun, a stellaron? Why I have a mortal form and not a celestial one, I don’t know, but I do know that the cold doesn’t affect me.” You smile. He stares at you for a while, then his eyes open again, light gold scans your face. 

   “A star,” he mutters. “Well, what is a star doing here on a frozen planet?” He turns back to the red liquid in the cauldron, stirring it in a clockwise motion.

   “Nothing really, I just found it.” You shrug.

   “Well little star, my name is Jiaoqiu,” he tells you. “I’m a foxian healer from the Xianzhou Yaoqing, and you are?” ‘Xianzhou’ is a name you have heard before in your nomadic life, but you have never encountered one.

   “I don’t have a name.” It’s true, you weren’t born to a loving mother, no one was around for your creation. The aeons call you the celestial child, but that isn’t a name by mortal standards, more like a title.

   “Then what should I call you?” He asks, his head tilts and his ears droop with the motion. “Whatever you like! I have had a lot of names.” Every planet you have traversed has given you a new name, something fitting to them.

   “Whatever I like.” There’s a sly smile on his face, something very fox-like you note. “Then I will continue to call you ‘little star’.”

   The wind and snow picks up around you as he cooks something, you ask him about it and it’s bright colour. You ask him a lot of things actually; about himself, about foxians, the Xianzhou Yaoqing, and so on. He asks you things in return; about the galaxy, the aeons, your nomadic life, where you have been, and so on.

[clawsdevour]

hiiii!! do you mind if u make kuroo x albino reader who's a manager¿? (no pressure) fluff

nekoma's captain

wc: 1.0k content warning: fluff, reader is albino, manager f!reader x kuroo, slight angst??, not proofread

note: hihi hopefully you enjoy this little story, ngl i was kind of struggling to find a plot for this short scenario until it came to me bc i wanted to include the descriptions of albinism for the reader. hope it somehow meets your standards!!!!

*✧;..

In the gym where you’re acting as Nekoma’s boys volleyball current manager. Hair tied back into a ponytail that swishes side to side brushing against your light, pale skin. You’re currently outside filling the boys’ water bottles before their quick break from practicing and coming up with new tactics for upcoming tournaments. The sun was radiating with heat that felt like your skin was getting pierced. You’re on the last water bottle, hastily filling it to the brim before twisting the cap back on. Hurrying back in the gym to ensure your skin doesn’t burn from the blazing sunlight, you carry over the heavy water bottles and place them on the benches where the boys will rest once they call for a timeout. 

You sit on the bench, keeping your eyes peeled watching them practice their spikes and blocking. They were all getting stronger, turning a single spike down with their reinforced blocks as well as learning how to keep more control on their spikes to manipulate them around the court. Even though they were rapidly improving, Kuroo caught your eye. Kuroo seems sluggish whenever he was on court. You realize Kuroo has had this very frustrated look on his face ever since they started practicing. Even though your sight is very blurry from afar, you could tell his brows were constantly furrowed and his constant grin was wiped off his face, his energy was completely different.

The team calls for a time out to get rehydrated and res while they discuss how to make their new moves even more sharper and powerful against opponents. Handing out their waters right down the line, the last to receive their water bottle was Kuroo. He was sitting a bit slightly farther away from the others, looking down as he breathed in deep pants. Gulping, your snow white skin taps him on the shoulder with the water bottle. He looks up into your light piercing eyes, as if you’ve disturbed him, startling you. 

“Oh.. thanks.” He mumbled under his breath while flashing a forced small smile at you. Wiping away his sweat as he reaches for the bottle, he just holds it in his big hands, doesn’t even take a sip. You’re a bit beyond worried, no one’s ever seen him so upset before.

Brushing a natural white strand of hair behind your ear, you can’t help but feel the intense tension rise. You had to break the silence and cheer him up before he heads back on court.

“U-Um.. are you okay..?” With a lowered voice you asked him, trying to not pull the attention of the others onto him. He takes a quiet sip of water before angeling his head up to look at you. 

“Yeah. Why?” His face is stern and serious, brows furrowed at you with his eyes slightly narrowed. His eyes so still, you could see your reflection in them.

“Well.. look. I’ve noticed that you aren’t playing at your best today …Is something wrong that maybe.. I could help you with?” Kuroo just looks down and sighs. His grip on the water bottle tightens to the point his hand is shaking as he exhales. 

“I just.. haven’t been able to block like how I used to. I kind of, realized that somehow I started to feel weaker, that it’s like I’m suddenly falling behind everyone.. You know, maybe I shouldn’t be Nekoma’s team captain” a grimace expression appears on his face. You sit down right next to him, putting your left hand on his back to comfort him while he lets it out.

“Kuroo… you know what I think?” He turns his attention to you, ready to listen to what you have to say about him. Nothing you say could make him feel even more disappointed in himself than his own self doubt.

“I think you’re one of the most amazing volleyball players I’ve ever seen play on court. Your skills are beyond just a position where you’re able to call yourself ‘captain.’ You as a person, too! You’re the only one on this damn volleyball team to keep everyone together besides me. Trust me, I appreciate you looking out for them more than me Kuroo.” You’re in your own world talking about him, he’s watching you talk with your hands more than what your mouth can say. Your eyes gleamed whenever you said his name.

“Gee.. thanks I didn’t know you thought so highly of me. That’s nice to hear once in a while,” Kuroo’s lips curl into a smile as he looks up. His hand is scratching the back of his head. Your pale eyes burn into him as you watch him let out his last deep sigh of frustration, fleshing out his negative self esteem. 

“So… time’s almost up. You should drink all that water before the next practice round,” waterbottle in hand, he shakes a big nod at you. Chugging down his water and looking back at you. Putting his arm down, swishing the water in his mouth before swallowing it all down. 

“Ha, I feel so much better knowing you look up to me like that. I, thank you for choosing to manage the volleyball team with me. And as your senior, I’ll play even harder for you to keep looking up to me,” his silly old grin was back as well as his bright and chaotic energy. It was as if your little pep talk replenished him back to his old self. 

“No need to thank me, just get out there and show them what it means to be Nekoma’s team captain Kuroo!!” You cheered at him while gets up. He’s peering back at you thinking to himself. He had one more think to say to you,

“Alright, but um.. Before I walk off, is your hair naturally white?” A bit surprised, but not really, you heard around school that he’s into science and that biology chemistry stuff. You figured he was gonna ask you this sooner or later since you’re the only person at Nekoma with albinism. “Ugh, yes. Now get on that court and pounce on them! Stop stalling for time captain, you got volleyballs waiting get hit down by your strong blocks and spikes!!” You can’t help but shout at him since the practice was back in order, the boys taking in their positions while regripping their shoes, giggling as he turns his back on you to head onto his side of the court.

masterlist here

[moonlight-prose]

EVERGREEN WASN'T SUCH A BAD DREAM

➝ A HURT DRABBLE

a/n: this first started out as a small idea jotted down in my notebook way back in august. i was trying to write hurt and it was being put on hold cause honestly i was scared to continue it. i didn't think i'd ever write it and honestly it didn't make much sense to me given the way the fic played out. but i couldn't get over the idea that these two got a little bit of joy in their lives. it's pre-chapter six so i hope y'all enjoy! divider by the incredibly talented @saradika.

summary: in the middle of destruction nature continues to follow the same path as before. starting with the first snowfall of the season. you just happen to be there to witness it with him.

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, soft joel, cold weather antics, fluff, a tad bit of romance, angst, grief, talk of the future in a hopeless world.

SERIES MASTERLIST

A blanket of white covered the world, turning everything brighter. The sun reflected off the snow, practically sparkling. You heard the crunch beneath your boots—the sound familiar and inviting. It called to the small fractured piece of joy that still remained in your body; begged you to finally let go and have some fun. Even as the world went to shit, the first snowfall never failed to make you smile.

Your breath collected in the air in front of you. Showing you just how cold it really was. Which only made you smile more—your nose practically numb with the frigid air.

“Fuck,” he muttered, slipping on the heavy gloves that he found in an old shop a few towns back. “It’s too cold.”

You shrugged, taking in a deep breath that burned on its way in. ‘Yeah but…it snowed.”

His eyes narrowed at your overjoyous smile. “It’s a pain in the ass to travel through snow.”

That was true.

Yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset about such a beautiful thing. Snow has always been attuned to joy in your life. The start of fun spent outdoors with your brother. Hot drinks with friends as your university began to set up for the worst. And sure there were the annoyances and hardships that came with this weather. But you had always found that the positives far outweighed the negatives in this case.

Joel couldn’t necessarily say the same. A bitter feeling of grief began to build in his chest—Sarah’s face entering his mind. They spent holidays in the snow. Holed up in the house as they watched a movie—usually a Christmas movie with a predictable script—often inviting Tommy for the night. It was a time he’d give anything to return to.

The weight in his chest pressed down painfully—attempting to drag him down. Back into the darkness he was so used to residing in.

Except something bright broke through its walls. As if sunlight was once again shedding its light over him. Warmth consumed him; offering him hope with a soft press to the agony that splintered him half. Only when he tore himself out his mind did he realize what it was.

The sound of your laughter.

Small flakes began to fall from the sky, catching on his hair and jacket. They stung his face slightly. He couldn’t focus on that though. Not when you were smiling, your bare hands trying to catch each snowflake—your tongue sticking out. For the first time he saw a childlike wonder in your eyes. The cloud of grief he’d grown so accustomed to—now dissipated as you played in the snow.

“Havin’ fun?” he asked as his lips pulled up at one side.

You laughed again and Joel felt a bolt of lightning go through his heart. Even though it was freezing outside, that warmth spilled into his chest, spreading out to the tips of his fingers. He understood what love felt like. How it affected a person, but this…this was more. This was the missing emotion he thought he’d never see again in this lifetime.

“As a matter of fact—I am having fun.”

You stepped closer to him, letting your freezing nose press against the hollow of his throat. He jolted, eliciting another small giggle from your lips. But he refused to move. Simply shifting slightly to open his jacket in order to pull you closer until his body heat seeped into yours. He wrapped his arms around you, tugging you until your feet were pressed between his.

“Gonna get sick,” he muttered under his breath.

A puff of cold breath left you, caressing against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. “C’mon Joel, it’s fun.”

“Boston—”

“Don’t you remember fun?”

He stiffened, hands frozen on your back. Only this time you didn’t immediately apologize for possibly saying the wrong thing. You remained silent. Gave him a chance to process the pain that was no doubt overtaking his body, a grief you would never be able to understand. Each of you carried your own demons—dragged down by the weight of them daily, and only for a brief moment did you see him allow them to lift.

“I do,” he replied, his voice thick with torment.

You shut your eyes, ran your hands up his back and let out a breath. “Tell me about it.”

Tell me about your past. Tell me about her.

Joel rarely mentioned anything when it came to his past. That continued to be a locked door you held no key to and you accepted that. You took what you could with him. But standing there in the middle of a snowy serene winter, you finally wanted to see each broken part he hid from you. You wanted to watch the sunlight glint off them like glass and catch their beauty in the palm of your hands.

You wanted to know him.

“We’d celebrate Christmas,” he said softly, lips pressed to your hair. “Nothin’ fancy. Nothin’ big. But we’d get a tree.”

He never told you who Sarah was to him, never revealed what happened to her. You were just happy to finally hear about something joyous in his life. That once upon a time…he might have smiled. Hell he might have even laughed often. You could tell by the lines around his eyes, proof that this man had experienced more than just this.

“In Texas?” you pressed, face peeking up to see his gaze already on you.

He nodded. “My brother usually joined us.”

Surprise lingered in your body, but you pushed past it. “You never told me you had a brother.”

And there it was, that small hint of a smile showing through the heartbreak on his face. “Yeah…Tommy.”

You tried to conjure up a picture of the other Miller. Did he have brown eyes like Joel? Was he older or younger? Was he still alive? Something told you with the way Joel reacted simply by saying the man’s name, that he remained okay. That somewhere on this Earth he was alive. You wanted to ask more, see if he’d let you in on a life you were never meant to be a part of. But pressing Joel to do anything—especially talking about his past—was not something that would go over easily.

“Did you play in the snow?” you asked, a smirk pulled at your lips.

He sighed, glancing up at the sky, a soft red stain flushing across his face. “We did.”

“I knew it.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, fingers pinching at your hip. Only to feel his heart flutter at the echo of your laugh being pressed to his chest.

He swore his heart responded to the sound, twisting in a way that he didn’t know was possible. It wasn’t wracked with pain, it wasn't threatening to drown him beneath his grief. It simply just existed.

Perhaps that’s what he could do for this one moment.

Stand in the snow as a man, holding a woman he loved, and exist.

“Hey Texas.”

He ran a soothing hand up your back, fingers lightly tracing the hem of your jacket. “Hm?”

“Will you play in the snow with me?”

Something lit up his eyes, the brown suddenly a lighter gold that struck a chord in your heart. He played you like a fucking guitar and with that one look, you’d let him. Joel took a breath, mouth parting, and did the one thing you longed to see. He smiled. Nothing small or minor, but a full blown smile that made your heartbeat cease to exist. For the first time…he looked happy. As if the man from before had shoved his way forward to finally give you a proper look at who he once was.

At the man he longed to be again.

“Yeah Boston,” he said, leaning forward to brush his lips against yours. “I will.”

A laugh escaped your mouth when he shoved you back lightly, hands reaching for the freshly fallen snow on the ground. You did the same. Digging your fingers into the freezing icy ground, pulling up a small amount to make a ball. Only for Joel to throw one at you, hitting you square in the shoulder.

“I wasn’t ready!”

He chuckled, heading for you. “Move faster.”

“Ironic you’re telling me that.” He stuttered, eyes flashing dark at the memory of having you the day before, but that faded with another grin. One that taunted you with something more.

A promise of a life that could be.

His arm wrapped around your waist, the snow falling from your hands as he hauled you backwards. A yelp escaped your mouth when he fell, your body landing on top of his—snow sticking to his hair and yours. The sun still burned bright in the sky, flakes continued to rain down around you, but for this one single moment…you existed in a space that felt good.

That felt normal.

“We’ll have a tree,” you said softly, rolling over to lay beside him.

He turned to look at you, eyes tender. “A tree huh?”

You nodded. “One day.”

“Okay,” he murmured, hand cupping your cheek. “We’ll have a tree.”

[zozo-01]

And The Sunlight That Divides Them

After a extensive conversation in the Discord [brought to you by @sri-rachaa and @gingerbreadmonsters] got me thinking about an old idea of a conversation between Alexis and Darlin'. And then @autisticempathydaemon and @cascadiiing decided to add more fuel to that fire, so here we are!!!

[Also tagging @beemybella, @epsi-l0n, @daveyistheloml and @teasandcardigans because they are both gems and I adore them and Mads is the biggest Alexis fan I know!!! Plus, tagging the ever talented and lovely @spookybeandoodle for setting me off on this Alexis/Darlin' journey monthsss ago!!!]

CW: This is me writing about Alexis in a somewhat positive light, so if you're expecting bitchy Alexis (let's be honest, I can't blame you), this is not the fic you wanna read, that outta way, Suicide Attempt, talking about the events of Sam's turning, Darlin' bringing up their own past with Quinn

click here for the ao3 link!!!

--

Perhaps this was the greatest benefit of being a vampire.

The ability to choose to end your life.

A vampire does not age. They do not fall victim to mortal sickness and there aren’t natural predators that can efficiently hunt them. Should a vampire decide they had enough, that they have lived a fulfilling life, they can end their second lease on life. They can choose to live for a thousand years, or for a day in their new lives, but should they decide to move on, they can walk gracefully to the shore between life and death.

After 40 years, Alexis Solaire had decided she had enough.

She stared at the shadow's edge, looking at the light-filled kingdom she was banned from. How long had it been since she felt the warmth of… anything, let alone the sun’s warm rays? She longed for it, for the glow of the sunset reflecting her eyes, or the warm summer breeze. But alas, her choice had relegated her to the darkness, the only light in her life was the moon reflecting the sunshine.

There… there had been a time when she felt warm. When she was sharing a bed with a certain freelancer. He made her blood sing with every kiss and bruise he left behind. Those gestures had meant nothing to him, but for her? They were everything. He was proof that she wasn’t a hellion, a wildfire ready to burn anything to the ground. That she could feel love, true, authentic and heart-wrenching love.

It was a shame that no person could change her nature and that he was caught in her flames.

She shook her head. That relationship, him, was long ago. He even was moving on. 

With a mate, no less. 

She thought of the wolf that had walked into the Solaire Clan meeting. A snide remark was on the tip of her tongue, a comment about how pups shouldn’t be around such dangerous creatures, but the words lodged themselves in her throat. She noticed the soft, love-filled smile he gave them.

The same smile she would give Sam behind his back.

Of course in her dying thoughts, she was thinking about him. How could she not? She was the greatest mistake of his life, and she has to live with that guilt.

Well… Assuming she had to live longer…

Like a bride walking down the aisle, she walked toward the sunlight. With every step, she thought of how the people in her life would react to the news of her death, if they even cared at all.

Out of everyone, William would be the most upset. He was her maker, the reason for her second life, and here she was throwing it away. Would William invoke her to stop her from dying? A selfish part of her wanted to say that yes, William would defy her will to die to keep her here as an act of love. That she too was justified in saving Sam, even if he didn't want to be. 

But no, William would never do that. He was too good for that. Instead, he’d hug her, tell her how much she means to him and let her walk to her doom.

Another step was taken and another name appeared in her mind.

Vincent? Would he miss her? She really couldn’t tell you. Some days they were bantering as if they were siblings. She was the older sister with a bad attitude and he was the little shit younger brother. On other days, they were at each other’s throats, fangs cutting the other’s skin and words cutting deeper wounds in their hearts. She let out a sigh. If Vincent misses her, it’s because of all the new responsibility he'd gain as the older progeny.

Yet again, Sam's name crossed her mind and made her stop midstep. Sam would never miss her. In fact, he’d throw the biggest celebration ever with his mate. She can picture his lovely, happy face aimed at them.

But he was happy and that's what she wants. She may not love him the same way, but she wants him happy.

God knows it’s the bare minimum he deserves from her for taking everything away. 

She continued walking to her doom. With every step, she can feel the sun’s burn on her skin. It felt amazing to feel the sun’s warmth again.

As she neared the edge, she approached with a singular thought in her head.

‘Goodbye world, may you be less cruel now that I’m not in it.’

Alexis Solaire was dead.

“Hey! Watch out, there’s sunlight here!”

Or that’s what would have happened had a giant wolf not tackled her to the ground.

Instead of burning in the sun, she quickly changed course and accepted that her death would be at the hands of a shifter. Of course, what was she thinking? That she deserved to feel the sun’s warmth after everything she’s done? After taking away Sam’s ability to bask in its glow? Being mauled by a shifter is the only way her story can end. Bloody and painful, and with no one being able to recognize her.

The wolf shifted back into their human form and familiar stubborn-glint eyes looked down upon her.

How fucking poetic was it that Sam’s mate, his Darlin’, would be the one to send her to her second grave. This had to be the universe playing a cruel joke on her. You couldn’t make this up.

But… where was the pain? Why weren’t they mauling her? Were they feeding off their misery? Using it to power them to rip her till she’s unrecognizable? 

Just end her pathetic life… please… if there was a mercy the universe can grant her, let it be to have this be her final memory.

“And they fucking call me reckless! Seriously, what self-respecting vampire walks into the sun? Didn't they teach you that shit in vampire school?” The shifter paused to ponder. “Are there even vampire schools?” There was no way her grim reaper in wolf fur was asking her about vampire schools. Where had they even gotten the idea they exist?

The only thing Alexis could do in her shock-filled state was answer truthfully.

“I- No, there aren’t vampire schools for newborns.” Is this a dream? Had she already died and this was… hell? She can reasonably accept that seeing the partner of the man she loved so much after she dies means that she’s in hell. Wait, is Sam’s mate a secret deathwalker? It’s the only explanation that she could fathom for why they of all people were here in her final moments.

 The shifter chuckled and scoffed at her answer. “Maybe they should start,” they said while getting up off her. They held out their arm, a strange gesture Alexis was not used to. A gesture of pure kindness. “Tell you what, one of us can bring it up at the next meeting, yea?”

A second passed. They would understand she didn’t deserve their help. Maybe the sun was in their eye? They couldn’t see whom they saved. Yes, that had to be what happened. There was no way Sam’s mate would save her if they knew who she was.

A minute passed. Ok, this was getting weird. The shifter hadn’t moved an inch, their hand still offering to help her up. You could say that it's a sad fact that Alexis isn’t used to receiving anything devoid of any mal intentions, but in her defence, she is Alexis Solaire. She is no stranger to roses. The offerings may seem beautiful, but there were always thorns to be considered.

Perhaps you can call it a tragedy that the extended arm was the first time Alexis was offered a thornless rose.

“We don’t got all day and I gotta get home before a certain someone starts calling.” Their sharp features became soft and their eyes lightened at the mention of this other person. A lifetime ago, it was she who became gentle at the thought of him.

Does the wolf know how lucky they are to be allowed to think of Sam lovingly? To not hide their affection for the man? To outwardly express their love for him?

Do they know that Alexis of the past would kill to be in their place? 

She already tried that, to kill for Sam’s love. You already know how that story ends.

She placed her hand in the wolf’s hand. Her tight grip is light enough to remove immediately, a show of her fear of their ulterior motives. Again, could you blame her? She is and forever will be the helion of the Solaire Clan. There were countless who want her dead, and she was sure that his Darlin’ wishes for her death for revenge.

She couldn’t exactly blame them. A life for a life and all that.

She shook the dirt and dust off her clothing. Clearing her throat, she asked the wolf in front of her a question she desperately needs the answer to.

“Do you know who I am?” 

They furrowed their eyebrows and blink repeatedly. They seem to contemplate the question. From their face, you’d assume that Alexis spoke in a language foreign to them. Such a simple question should not cause them such confusion. Did she say something wrong? Had she fuck up a potential relationship with the one person who didn’t hate her immediately?

Typical Alexis to burn bridges before they can be built.

The wolf scoffed. “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t know who you are. You’re Alexis Solaire.”

So the wolf did know who she was? This… made things more complicated. 

For who in their right mind would save a damned soul like hers?

“... You… you know who I am… and you still saved me?” Alexis tilted her head in confusion. There had to be a mistake. She needed to make absolutely sure that this wolf didn’t mistake her for someone else.

“Uh, of course? Did you expect to watch you walk into the sun?”

Maybe Alexis can be a little naive. Just for this moment. Maybe she can pretend that the wolf saved her, despite all logic saying otherwise. 

For so long, Alexis longed for love. To be someone’s world.

Now? Alexis just wants a friend. Maybe they can be that…

No, she couldn’t do that to Sam. It’s cruel of her to take advantage of their ignorance. She hurt their lover, and she shouldn’t even be talking to them. She just has to figure out if Sam had told them the events of his turning without giving everything away. That was his story to tell, and for as much as she has taken from him, she will never take away his chance to tell his story.

“Well… if everything is done here, I should probably be back and,” they held her arm before continuing, “if you ever think about doing something stupid like that again, I’m sure William would be willing to listen. I mean, personally, I like talking to him because he has that calming voice.” They mumbled under their breath, something about it being a miracle they found a french accent soothing. Alexis would have to ask about that later, assuming later would ever happen.

The wolf turned and began to walk away. Closer and closer to the forbidden kingdom that she was banned from.

In an impulsive act, Alexis yelled out, “wait! Can I talk to you?”

The wolf stopped in their tracks and walked back towards the vampire princess. “You? Want to talk with me?” Confusion laced their town and shock was on their face. She can hear the thoughts running through their head. ‘What the hell does a vamp princess like her want to do with me?’ 

Alexis opened her mouth, but no words came out. Perhaps she was a bit in over her head, and maybe she should have written a script or some bullshit like that, but you know what? She is Alexis Goddamn Solaire. And she will speak her mind.

“Um- What Sam might have told you about me… I don’t know if he’s told you, but I just want to let you know-” 

The wolf cut her off, and the warmth in their voice gave away to cold steel.

“Sam told me everything about that night.” 

Oh. So they know about that night. And she just reminded them of her greatest mistake.

Well, there goes that. The one singular person whom she thought she could befriend knows about her worst night ever. And if they were willing to overlook that when they saved her, they certainly won’t now that she brought it up with her own mouth.

Dear, Sweet Alexis. Always burning bridges before they could be built.

“You knew all that, and you still saved me?” If all the deities in human history could spare kindness, it would be an answer to this question. 

The wolf scoffed. “You know I hate saying the same thing over and over again, so I’ll say this one last time. I saved you because I saw you walking into the sun like you wanted a damn tan.” They crossed their arms, shifting their weight to their right leg. “Is there anything else you want from me?”

Alexis stuttered. It is always a bad situation when Alexis is stuttering. It meant she wasn’t prepared for an outcome, and Alexis always came prepared.

“I’m sorry- it’s just… it’s just that- I never thought you of all people would save me since I… I turned…” She fidgeted with the rings on her hands. “Besides it will be better for everyone, especially him, he probably wants me dead-” Once again the wolf granted her mercy by cutting her off.

“Look, whatever history you and Sam have with each other is between you two. I heard what you did to him, but it ain’t my business to inflict pain on you because of that.” Their steady voice went quiet and they looked at the ground. “And… don’t say it’ll be better if you’re dead. There are people who care for you and want you alive.” 

There was nothing Alexis could do but laugh. At the absurd reality that she resides in a reality where the mate of the man whom she forcibly turned was telling her to stay alive. Between her dry laughs, she said, “I’m sorry, it’s just, I find it hard to believe that anyone would want me alive, especially Sam. Why would he or you or anyone care for a bitch like me?”

Once again, the sharp features of the wolf softened and their voice became comforting. “I don’t think Sam would care, whether you were alive or dead. It doesn’t matter, as long as you are out of his life, he’s content.” 

“But just because he doesn’t care, doesn’t mean I don’t as well.”

With one single line, Alexis’s view of herself shattered.

She had thought- no, she knew that she was beyond help, beyond saving. She was content with burning herself alive if it meant she could remain the cold, callous bitch many think of her. Was it the most positive outlook of her? Absolutely not. But ignoring the fact that the perceptions of people are rooted in some fact (no matter how little), this helion version of Alexis keeps her safe. 

She was no longer the scared girl trying to escape the unwanted marriage she was destined for. The one who begged William to give her a new life. The one who lay awake while Sam was going through his bloodlust, feeling the vitriol and hatred rightfully directed at her.

No, instead she was Alexis Solaire. Cold-hearted. Uncaring. Untouchable. Safe.

But this wolf, who she was still in shock was still talking to her, was making it hard to maintain her well-earned, yet perhaps not deserved, reputation.

Or maybe, they were teaching her that she could be more than that. 

A sad smile bloomed on her face, tears building up in her eyes. Finally, she has met someone whom she can lower her guard around. She could just be her and not what people expected her to be. She couldn’t even do that around Sam. (She doubled back on that last thought. Was the wolf becoming more meaningful to her in the few minutes she has met them than Sam was during their relationship?)

“May I ask you one last question? And whatever your answer may be, please don’t sugar coat it, I need to know your truth.” The wolf furrowed their eyebrows and nodded hesitantly, prompting the princess to continue. “Since you know about that night… Was turning Sam a mistake?”

For a split second, the wolf’s eyes flared with anger. She could imagine that they were ready to unleash their fury over Sam onto her, and she was ready to take it all.

But the shifter had other plans.

Instead of burning Alexis alive like she has been doing to herself for years, they paused and composed themselves. What had made them rethink their answer, she doesn’t know, nor did she feel right asking them. And she was content with never knowing. 

(What Alexis hadn’t known was that Darlin’ could see the guilt on her face, fresh as the day of the accident. They know that look and feeling all too well, and resorting to anger would only prove to themselves that they are their worst fear. So they give her the grace they were never granted as a child.)

They bit their lip and answered honestly. “If you’re asking me if I think you were right for turning Sam against his will, I’m sorry, but I can’t justify that.” They clenched their eyes shut, and Alexis thinks that they are holding back their own memories. She wonders who was in those memories, for what monster would dare hurt a kind soul such as theirs.

In any case, there was no need to keep Sam’s mate with her any longer. She waves a hand to dismiss the wolf. “I understand, it was the answer I was expecting anyways.” She turned to walk off like she hadn’t planned for that day to be her last, but the shifter had other plans.

“But I don’t blame you!”

She stopped, the words of the wolf echoing in her head. “But I don’t blame you.” How could they not blame them? She took away his agency from that night. She damned him to be confined to his house when the beautiful sun was out. If there was anyone to blame for that night, it was her.

“You’re wrong, I was the one who fucked it up like I always do! I should be the one to take the fall for my own actions!” She hadn’t realized that her voice had gotten higher, but the shock at the wolf’s kindness was leaving her spiralling.

“What you did that night was terrible, and I hope no one has to ever go through that again. But you were put between a rock and a hard place, and you made the decision that you thought was best.” They sighed and looked up to the sky. “I’m not that dumb to not consider what was going through your head.”

For the first time in a long time, Alexis was stunned and silent. She was expecting claws and teeth and anger to be thrown at her, it’s what she deserves and what she has gotten in the past. But the shifter had done something no one else had ever done for her. They considered her side of the story. Maybe- no, her side of the story wasn't the most important on the night of the accident, but they had still thought about her and what she went through her worst moments.

She wasn’t used to that level of thoughtfulness being granted to her. (Maybe the wolf had earned the nickname darlin’?)

They cleared their throat and continued. “The decision itself was never the moral one,” they said with an air of finality in their voice. 

(It was a statement they truly believed with their whole heart. They had been on the wrong side of vampire fangs and thinking about Sam going through that made their heartache. But looking at the vampire princess’s guilty face made them feel uneasy. They could feel the familiar bubbles of sympathy in their soul. Damn their empathetic heart cursing them to quell her guilt, though it is an urge they’ll gladly fulfill.) 

With a softer tone, they added, “but if all decisions were made with the “right” morality in mind, the world would be a better place.” Alexis looked puzzled at that statement, so the wolf clarified. “What I mean is… a perfect world cannot exist. Some mistakes must be made and they prove that this reality is real. Besides, who am I to judge you based on your past when I have one as well.”

“The only person who can judge you is the one you hurt from that night, and he has made his feelings clear.”

Didn’t she know that. She’s been feeling his loathe for her for the last thirteen years. 

Oddly enough, Alexis had finally felt some closure over that night. Having someone acknowledging that yes she made a mistake, but there was no other option available alleviated some of the burdens. Who would have thought it would be Sam's lover releasing her from her emotional turmoil. 

“If you don’t mind me asking a question,” they hesitantly inquired. 

Alexis was sure that they were the politest person they have ever met, and she was convinced she doesn’t deserve half of it. She nodded. “Go on.”

“Do you still love Sam?”

“No.” It was an answer that sounded forced and rehearsed, like she was practicing it just for this exact moment, but it didn’t make it any less true. “You learn to let go after constant rejection.”

They tilted their head and furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. “You can tell me to fuck off if this is overstepping, but why hold on to the pain? Why not move on?”

She let out another forced laugh. “Because I’m the villain of this story? And when does the villain ever get the happy ending?” The intense stare of concern from the wolf had Alexis dropping her act again. “Sam was my first, true love. I may not love him anymore, but I don’t think I’m ever going to get over him.”

“Funny enough, I thought the same thing about Quinn.”

Alexis had almost doubled over that. Someone as caring as them? Being in love with Quinn? The thought was revolting, they deserved better than the sadistic vampire, but Alexis found it fitting that their bleeding heart would feel sorrow and care for a monster like him. She could use that same argument with her.

“Yea, I know I was dumb for thinking that, but I deadass thought I was gonna be with him forever.” They sighed. “But that wasn’t how shit went. I was distraught after we broke up and I was the one who ruined it-”

“You’re too good to be hung up over someone like him.” Alexis had cut them off with venom in her voice. “You gave him more love and attention than a monster like him deserves.”

They blinked a couple of times and laughed. “Oh you’re absolutely right he didn’t deserve shit from me. But the fact that I loved him and was able to move on doesn’t change.” They held her hands against their chest. “Alexis Solaire, if I can move on from Quinn, then you can move on from Sam.”

Before Alexis could voice her doubts, the shifter’s phone started ringing, and of course, it was their southern vampire. They picked up the phone and greeted him with a “hi baby.” How adorably cheesy and sweet, yet absolutely fitting for them.

She makes sure she doesn’t listen to their phone call, if only to respect Sam’s privacy. She made a hundred percent sure that Sam didn’t know she was there. What he didn’t know, didn’t kill them.

Hanging up, the wolf turned to Alexis with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, but Sam wants me back and I know if I don’t show up soon, he’s gonna rip the forest apart trying to find me.” They fondly chuckle at Sam’s potential reaction. “Don’t let the past drag you down Alexis, and once you do that, you’ll be able to live again. Don’t pass through your own life like you’re a ghost.”

She nodded, eyes once again filling up with tears at the thought of someone believing in her. “Ok, I’ll try. Thank you, for saving me today.” They did it in more ways than one.

They waved their hand dismissively. “Ahhh, it was nothing! Just doing what any decent person would do!”

“There aren’t many people as kind as you are out there. Do not let this cruel world harden your heart.”

Their eyes widened and turned their head away, flustered at the kind words. “I’ll try. See you around Lexi!” And with that, they shifted into their animal form, a large white wolf, and ran back to the cabin where her progeny resides. 

How on earth did a wolf manage to change her outlook on everything in such a short amount of time? Alexis understood why he fell for them. Their energy was addicting, and it nourished her in a way not even the most exquisite blood could.

Alexis had spent the last forty years in cold static, everlasting and never changing, content with having life pass her by. But the wolf had made her feel something she never expected to revel in again. Even the lovestruck days with her unwilling progeny hadn’t brought this sensation back to her.

The wolf’s kindness, their care, their genuine need to help her…

…It felt like sunlight.

[gamerbearmira]

I've been thinking about how the gifts might work in the Tangled AU, if there are gifts, and I've come up with a cool idea

Gifts show up as the kids and grandkids grow, there isn't a set age or date when gifts are received, it's different for each child and depends on their emotional development, mental state, and maturity, as well as the nature of the gift itself, giving a five year old a magical power isn't always a good idea. The gifts are divided into three categories: healing, enhanced abilities, and light, as these are essentially the three core aspects of the Sundrop's power, and they are all tied to emotions and mental health in some way, each set of siblings has one of each type of power

Julieta: her gift is largely unchanged from canon, but the extent of the healing is tied to her love and compassion, if her mother or someone she loves gets hurt and she gives healing food, it'll heal instantly, if a stranger is hurt, it'll take a few moments, if it's someone she dislikes but is still willing to help, it'll take a minute or two, and if it's someone who poses a threat to her family, someone she absolutely DOESN'T want to help, then her cooking will have no effect.

Pepa: she can create balls of light, the size can range from tiny lights that can be mistaken for fireflies to essentially creating a second sun, these balls of light don't burn but they can certainly blind you, pepa can control how bright they are to an extent, but her mood is also a factor, if she's sad, her lights are dimmer, if she's mad, the lights will flicker rapidly, and if she's happy, they shine extra bright, she can also make light in different colors, light color isn't affected by her mood, but she sometimes uses color to reflect her mood, this Pepa associates her emotions with certain colors rather than certain weather

Bruno: he has the gift of enhanced sight, he can see things clearly even from far away and notices even the slightest details or changes, his gift works best if he's relaxed and happy, if he's anxious or scared it won't work as well, and if he gets overstimulated his gift stops working at all until he can calm down, in these moments his gift only works to let him see important things, like a support beam that's unstable or a stampede of animals coming his way

Dolores: her gift is also similar to what it is in canon, but with a MAJOR difference, she can choose not to hear certain things, and, like Bruno's gift, if she gets overstimulated her gift will shut off completely until she feels better unless it's something important like someone screaming for help or her parents calling her name, her gift also doesn't make sounds a normal person could hear unbearably loud, she can tell when it's a sound others can hear but it won't hurt her ears

Camilo: he can turn into pure sunlight, his whole body becomes like a giant glow stick that can be molded to get anywhere as long as light reaches it, he can even go through windows, basically if light can get there, he can get there, his power can also work with moonlight and artificial light, but it's a little trickier for him, and if he's in a place that's completely dark, he's essentially just a walking glow stick, like Pepa, the brightness of his light is also affected by his emotions, and he LOVES using color and light to express his mood, he also has a harder time shifting and moving into light if he's sad or upset or just not in a good place mentally

Antonio: at age five, he might not have developed his gift yet, but his will be healing through animals, I know that sounds weird but hear me out, Antonio's gift is essentially service animals and emotional support pets, he can train a pet to help someone either physically or mentally, and when that pet helps the person, they are healed over time, say someone broke their leg and is having trouble moving, Antonio can give him a dog he trained to help him move around and the next day his leg is healed, like Julieta, the effectiveness depends on Antonio's love and compassion for who he's helping, a key difference here is Antonio can help with both physical and mental healing while Julieta is exclusively physical healing, it also depends on how well the person being helped treats the animal

Isabella: she can grow glowing flowers, these flowers look a lot like the Sundrop flower that Alma took, but the flowers Isabella grows only glow, Isabella spent a lot of time experimenting with what she can do with her power, she can grow HUGE flowers, or flowers with thorns, or flowers with long stems she can climb or swing on, it's not quite as versatile as her canon gift, but the different ways she's found to use her power are still impressive, she's loves decorating with flowers that glow different colors and putting on a light show, if she's in a bad mental state than her flowers wilt and die, and once again the brightness of the light is affected by her mood

Luisa: she has super speed, pretty simple, she can run super fast and, like the other enhanced ability powers, if she gets overwhelmed then her power doesn't work unless it's an emergency, an interesting thing to note is that this Luisa also does weight lifting and agility training, Luisa got into them shortly after her gift developed, as those skills help make the most of her speed, her speed also doesn't cause any crazy wind gusts or trails of fire

Mirabel: she does get a gift here, it's the gift of empathy, she can hold someone's hand and feel what they're feeling, by helping the person talk through their emotions and feelings, she can heal them mentally, Mirabel's gift applies exclusively to phycological healing, and the healing's effectiveness is once again tied to the healer's compassion, Mirabel also needs the person to be open with her about their feelings, if they don't want to share what they're feeling, then Mirabel can't feel their emotions and thus can't help them

I'm not sure if singing or an incantation will be a part of their gifts, maybe it won't be necessary but it would make their gifts more effective, if there is singing involved, then each gift would have a different incantation, which is fun to think about, but what do you think?

I think they're amazing❗ I'm definitely leaning towards having gifts/powers of some kind. And these are. So cool <33 I likehow a some of them involve healing in some way. Kinda calls back to Alma's ability, though hers is more concentrated, you know she cam heal physically more directly, just by touching her hair (and possibly through will).

BUT YEAH. Personally I like Julieta, Pepa, Mirabel and Camilo. I just think they're so rad, especially Pepa, I like that idea. So rad. <333 THANK YOU FOR SHARING ❗❗❗

[thedragonagelesbian]

"You know," Astarion sauntered over to him as Cyrus was buckling up his armor-- what a shame it was, really, to cover up a body like that underneath so much metal, "as I was settling down for my trance last night, I couldn't help but glimpse something most curious."

Cyrus humored him with a thin smile and a lift of his brow. "Oh?"

"Unless there are any other flame-kissed tieflings we know, I do believe Karlach visited you after yesterday's libations."

"She did," Cyrus admitted, smile widening-- for a moment, before his eyes flashed with apprehension. "I hope there aren't any hard feelings between us."

"Hardly. The more I reflect, the more I think you had the right of it. I mean, a vampire and a paladin? The very concept is a little ludicrous, don't you agree? You're too busy, I don't know, saving drowning puppies or something equally nauseating to have much time for me."

A more shrewd man might've called his dismissiveness for what it was-- layered on so thick and cloying Astarion was near choking with it to hide that kernel of genuine sentiment. But Cyrus was so miserably easy to deceive, and he responded by smiling again, warm and reassuring as the sunlight Astarion had oh so recently rediscovered.

"I'll always have time for you, Astarion."

Damn him...

"Well," Astarion drew out the word to hide a cough, "do I get to know any of the tawdry details?"

Cyrus gave a shrug. "We talked."

"Tease."

"We just talked," he repeated, though it was heavier this time. He cast a forlorn glance across the camp before sighing as he buckled his gauntlets. "Karlach is concerned about burning me if we do much more."

"What, and no one's told the poor woman how much you enjoy a little pain?"

The suggestiveness was rewarded by a faint blush, spreading across Cyrus' cheeks and down his neck to that most delicious mark Astarion had left behind some nights ago.

"It's come up... but she insists. She's very worried about hurting me. It's sweet, actually, as much as it may frustrate us both."

Astarion pursed his lips, eyes lingering for a moment longer on Cyrus' neck. He felt the stirrings of hunger, yes-- he had gone into yesterday's celebration assuming he'd be able to partake in his own private feast. But more than that, he felt his stomach twisting like it had that first night. When he realized Cyrus had grown limp and cold beneath him. Cyrus had trusted him, fully and unconditionally, and even though Astarion had abused that trust, Cyrus had given him another chance. Let him feed again, let him kiss him, let him fuck him, vulnerable and exposed and thoroughly at Astarion's mercy despite everything. The naivety and reckless disregard for personal well-being were as endearing as they were upsetting, though Astarion would never admit to either emotion.

Perhaps what Cyrus needed was someone who would worry about hurting him. He certainly wasn't going to worry about it himself.

"Sweet," Astarion repeated slowly. He dragged his gaze back up to Cyrus' face, back to those achingly kind eyes. Selfishly, he wondered if he was ever going to get to taste Cyrus' blood again, the honeyed smolder of divine health crackling and sugary on his tongue. "Yes, absolutely darling."

[russicnroses]

Here is Volume 2, Chapter 3 of BlOOD+ RUSSIAN ROSE. This chapter in particular includes extended versions of the original texts to heighten the details. There are a total of 16 pages.

128, 129, 130

In a small, remote village, both adults and children regularly gather at the village tavern, especially in the spring when the snow melts. A boy, known for his uncanny ability to predict the future, is approached by a man asking if his mare will give birth to a filly or a colt. The boy predicts that the mare will give birth to a filly and assures the man that his household will grow prosperous. The man is thrilled and gives the boy's father some money as a reward.

The boy’s father praises him for being clever but warns him not to get carried away, as a wrong prediction could cause problems. The boy, however, is confident in his ability and explains that it's just like when he correctly guesses which hand his father is hiding a pebble in during a game they play.

A few nights later, the man who had asked about his horse storms into the tavern, drunk and upset, announcing that his mare has died. The tavern becomes silent as everyone knows the man worked hard to buy the horse. The boy notices one of the man’s friends, who had been watching the scene, with a suspicious expression. The boy suddenly realizes that this man had poisoned the mare out of jealousy. Though the man puts on a kind facade as he helps the drunk farmer out of the tavern, the boy can’t shake off the vision of him mixing poisonous plants into the horse's feed.

130, 131, 132

The young boy’s father returns home looking troubled, revealing that a man was beaten by his comrades after it was discovered he had poisoned their food. The father blames the boy for sharing gossip, but the boy notes that others were pleased to hear about the culprit. Years later, the boy has become a young man, now a pilgrim who has left his village. He serves as an assistant in a church, having gained the priest’s favor by anticipating his thoughts and saying what he wants to hear.

After spending several years at the church, the young man is called out by an older monk who has been there longer. In a sudden act of violence, the monk attacks him, revealing his jealousy over the young man’s relationship with the priest. The monk continues to beat him and eventually burns his face with a hot iron, leaving him to die alone in a snowstorm. As the young man lies in pain, he reflects on his past questions about his powers and whether he will die now.

In his vulnerable state, the young man hears a soft, melodic voice belonging to a girl, who comments on his beautiful hair. Despite being blind from his injuries, he feels her gentle touch and wonders about the nature of this encounter. The girl expresses sympathy for his suffering, suggesting he is one of the chosen ones, which confuses him. Her voice hints at another presence nearby, but his weakened state prevents him from fully grasping the situation.

134, 135, 136

A heavy presence looms in the air, and an intense heat washes over the young man as liquid fills his mouth. The realization strikes him: it is blood. A wave of panic grips him, leading to violent convulsions as his body betrays him, lifting against his will before collapsing into the cold snow, where he loses consciousness.

When he awakens, he finds himself in a dilapidated church, long abandoned and silent. The blizzard outside has calmed, allowing a piercing light to stream through a shattered window. In the midst of the illumination, he perceives a small silhouette moving toward him, eliciting a sense of astonishment. He had thought her lost forever.

-

As the figure emerges from the shadows, the young man recognizes her as DIVA. A profound connection surges through him, an understanding that the blood he tasted belongs to her. She reaches out, brushing her fingers through his silver hair, her presence radiant in the sunlight.

Memories flood back—stories of a black-robed statue of Mary once revered in this region. DIVA, with her ethereal beauty, eclipses even that sacred image. He feels compelled to submit to her, surrendering himself completely and acknowledging his allegiance. His submission resonates within the hushed walls of the church, drawing the attention of those who bear witness.

-

Before the congregation stands the iconostasis, an opulent wall adorned with icons of saints and angels, creating a sacred barrier between the worshippers and the altar. The holy throne, hidden behind this divine façade, is considered the heart of the church.

The atmosphere thickens as the priest steps forward, a censer in hand, signaling the commencement of the ritual. The incense wafts through the air, its rich aroma mingling with the solemnity of the moment, while the gentle chime of a bell echoes throughout the sacred space.

Amidst this reverent scene, the priest’s gaze falls upon the girl, absorbed in the Gospel at the altar. Outside the iconostasis, the faithful raise their voices in melodic devotion, their prayers filling the air with longing and hope. The girl, with her flowing golden hair and striking blue eyes, embodies an otherworldly grace, reminiscent of an angel descended from the very icons that surround them.

137, 138, 139

### Page 137 Extended Summary

Grigori reflects on the first moment he encountered the girl, feeling an overwhelming sense of light and warmth emanating from her. Since pledging his service to her, he has stopped suppressing his innate powers. As he works to repair the dilapidated church that now serves as their sanctuary, he finds fulfillment in listening to the stories of the visitors who seek him out. Initially, these encounters involve simple requests—a child seeking lost toys, a woman needing a minor injury healed—but as he engages with them, he becomes aware of the growing magnitude of his abilities.

Gone are the days of fear; he no longer dreads the presence of others. The nights pass without the need for sleep, his physical form remaining robust and vibrant. The church, once neglected and forgotten, now becomes a haven of healing and hope. Among the visitors, some women cast meaningful glances at him, filled with unspoken desires and regrets, ensuring that he never lacks for “meals” in a metaphorical sense, as their attentions bolster his strength and power.

Word of Grigori’s talents spreads beyond the local towns, reaching the ears of the aristocracy in the capital. This newfound reputation culminates in an invitation from the ailing Empress Alexandra, who wishes for him to visit Petersburg to aid her ailing son. Unbeknownst to her, the girl—his light and muse—remains a constant presence in his life, infusing his days with purpose and inspiration.

### Page 138 Extended Summary

In the hushed atmosphere of the church, Grigori shares quiet moments with the girl, knowing the rhythmic chanting of prayers will shield their words from prying ears. She exudes a childlike playfulness, smiling as she leans on her hands, clearly uninterested in the Gospel she pretends to read. Despite her ethereal beauty, there’s an unguarded innocence in her demeanor, a quality that remains unchanged regardless of her physical appearance. This juxtaposition captivates Grigori, revealing a softer side of him that contrasts with his usual cold demeanor.

Anastasia’s frustration spills forth as she expresses her disappointment regarding a recent ball. She feels invisible, particularly to Grigori, who devoted his attention to her mother instead. This moment of vulnerability prompts a gentle intimacy as he reaches for her hand, leading her to sit upon the grand throne. There’s a palpable connection between them, an unspoken understanding that transcends their roles.

As she critiques her white dress, adorned with delicate ribbons and lace, she likens it to the attire of mourning. She gazes at Grigori, challenging him with her playful defiance, and comments on the ever-present white garments that seem to shroud her family in an air of death and somberness. Despite the lightheartedness of her tone, her words hint at a deeper restlessness, a desire to break free from the constraints of her life.

### Page 139 Extended Summary

Anastasia, her playful spirit unbroken, continues to voice her dissatisfaction with her appearance. She twists the fabric of her dress, still resonating with the themes of death and loss that linger around her family. Her remarks are laced with an unsettling truth: the continuous wear of white garments suggests an oppressive atmosphere of despair that has enveloped the royal household for years. With a mixture of humor and a darker undertone, she muses on the sweetness of death compared to the suffocating monotony of existence.

Suddenly, she leaps down from the throne, her movement effortless and weightless, as if gravity holds no sway over her. Her hair dances in the air, and she turns back to Grigori, revealing a spark of mischief in her bright blue eyes. She expresses a yearning for adventure and excitement. In that moment, she embodies the spirit of a young girl trapped in a gilded cage, craving the freedom to explore the world beyond the confines of her royal duties.

Grigori watches her, a mix of admiration and concern swirling within him. Her innocence, juxtaposed with her profound observations about life and death, leaves him captivated. As he considers her words, he feels a burgeoning need to protect her from the heavy shadows that loom over their lives. Their bond deepens, forged by the shared understanding of their unique circumstances, and he resolves to find a way to bring her the joy and liberation she seeks.

140, 141, 142,

Grigori sighs with a wry smile at Anastasia's mischievous eyes, recognizing that such expressions are unique to her. He recalls being summoned multiple times to treat Alexei, during which his worried sister would hold his hand tightly. He had once sent away the hysterical empress to focus on the treatment, leaving behind a bittersweet memory of his sister. Grigori, now infiltrating the court, begins his research on the wings, aiming to create beings superior to humans, born of DIVA, to dominate the world. He and Yuri discuss the growing chaos and the fading value of their country. Grigori wonders what final game they might play. The oblivious citizens continue their prayers. Anastasia, eyes sparkling, rushes to Grigori, hugging him and expressing her admiration for his perceptiveness. She notes that others treat him like a god. Her playful tone shifts to a cruel one, stating that no god exists. Grigori responds with a cold gaze, reflecting on how people see only what they want. He gently strokes her golden hair, and their contrasting appearances create a divine image. Grigori suggests they host an opera to end things with grandeur, debating the choice of performance. Anastasia dismisses the idea of using an old story, suggesting instead something more appealing for her sister. She giggles and spins away, her white shoes echoing on the stone floor. Singing, she comments on the beauty of the moon, likening it to a blue rose. When Grigori realizes she's quoting an opera, Anastasia approaches him, touching his chin. With a theatrical tone, she announces her intent to kiss him. Grigori, embracing her slender waist, playfully reminds her of her divine status. Their playful banter continues, with Anastasia smiling coyly and implying a deeper connection.

144

On this page, Anastasia's sultry whispers envelop Grigori like a soft, intoxicating shroud. Her breath, warm and humid, caresses his cold neck, creating an electric tension that fills the air between them. This intimate moment escalates quickly; a sudden sharpness pierces his skin, a wound that opens with a soft pop, allowing warm blood to trickle down his chest. The rich crimson flows, stark against his pallid skin, mingling with the atmosphere thick with ritualistic reverence. As sacred items—the Gospel, the candelabra, and the cross—clatter to the floor in disarray, their fall echoes through the chamber, a symbol of disrupted sanctity. Anastasia, lost in a fervor of delight, savors the taste of blood on her lips, a vibrant red that stains her mouth and transforms her expression into one of unrestrained pleasure. She gazes up at Grigori, her eyes shimmering with a mix of satisfaction and detachment, unbothered by the consequences of her actions. With a flick of her wrist, she departs from the throne, her demeanor shifting as she steps into a more practical role. She approaches a young man waiting at a concealed door, her voice a melodic command as she instructs him to send a beautifully crafted invitation to her sister. The request is lighthearted yet tinged with an undercurrent of expectation; it must be lovely. In a sudden moment of realization, Anastasia glances down at her pristine white dress, now marred by the dark stains of blood. A playful smile breaks across her face, transforming her demeanor from one of seduction to innocent delight. Tilting her head slightly, she admires the patterns created by the blood, finding a peculiar beauty in the chaos. The juxtaposition of her earlier allure and this newfound childlike wonder encapsulates her complex nature—both alluring and innocent, dangerous yet captivating.

[little-lego-ninjas]

that there ain't no stoppin' your plans and those slow hands:

Hey guys! I decided to write that silly little idea I had for a lava one shot, and it came out really cute, so I decided to share it with you guys <3.

Dusting his hands off on his pants, Kai glanced back towards the water. It wasn't a bad day in the slightest, not with how gentle the waves looked and how the sunlight reflected on the water's surface. It was pretty and almost calming, if it wasn't for the annoyance steadily building up inside of him.

Now normally, he would feel pretty accomplished after stopping a petty criminal like one currently tied to a nearby palm tree, but after accidentally blowing up his bike's engine, his good mood had burnt to a crisp. Sure, he had apprehended the criminal, but now he was stuck on the beach, by an entire ocean of water, until the Bounty could come get him.

"... Maybe we could just walk back home?"

At least he wasn't alone though, so there were little victories. Kai crossed his arms, gesturing at the faint sight of Ninjago City on the horizon. "Hate to be a downer, Cole, but unless you wanna walk for the next six hours, we're not going anywhere."

Cole hummed, drumming his fingers on the handlebars of Kai's bike, little wisps of smoke escaping from the once-burning engine. Nya was gonna kill him for it, followed by Pixal and then maybe even Jay, but Kai could deal with that. Machines were never reliable anyway, even if they helped with coming and going.

Kai plopped down into the sand, resting his chin in his hand. "Sorry for getting us stuck."

"I don't mind," Cole said, his voice even and calm, like being stuck for a couple hours didn't bother him at all. Knowing Cole, it probably didn't.

Kai sighed, glaring out at the water as if it was to blame, already tired of being stuck and waiting to be rescued. It was almost embarrassing, a trained ninja blowing up his own ride. Kai groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

He tensed when he felt a hand card through his hair, relaxed when he recognized the touch, gentle yet so strong. "Cole," Kai mumbled, "what are you doing?"

Cole's hand left his hair, the earth ninja sitting down beside him. "You can't be that upset, right?"

Kai peeked at Cole again, then glanced away. "Maybe I am upset. I mean, we caught the guy, but we're stuck for the next couple hours because I shot a blast of fire at my own bike!"

"Well," Cole poked at Kai until the fire ninja looked up, if only to glare at him. "You could be stranded alone. You've got me."

Cole smiled, and Kai was pretty sure he should have jumped into the ocean when he had the chance because oh no. Kai had told himself countless times that he had no romantic feelings for anyone on his team, but dammit Cole had him in a way he had never felt before. There was just something about the other man that made Kai desperately want to spend way too much time with him.

Kai had a reputation, a persona even, that he was the cool sauve playboy, the one who always got what he wanted and then changed his mind about it later. Besides, the only one who even knew he was pan was Nya, and he sure wasn't about to confess his sexuality to Cole. Especially not if it meant jeopardizing their friendship.

Kai looked away, nodding but not meeting Cole's stupidly pretty eyes any longer. He had a crush, so what? He could get over it. It was no different than any other time he had feelings.

"Kai?"

He would get over Cole and be happy for the Master of Earth if he ever found a nice person to settle down with, he could be happy for Cole and get over his little tiny crush like the adult he was, he wouldn't ruin their friendship. He couldn't.

"Kai, hey?"

Kai looked back at Cole at the sharp sound of worry in his voice. "Yeah?"

Cole did look worried, his eyebrows pinched. "You okay? I mean, if you would rather be alone, I can go watch the guy-"

"No!" Kai snatched onto Cole's arm (why, why, why had Cole felt compelled to remove all the sleeves on his gi?). "I- um."

Kai let go, cheeks flaming. "You can… do what you wanna."

Cole sounded amused. "Are you nervous?"

Kai shot Cole a glare, which only made Cole laugh. "Why would I be nervous?"

Cole shrugged, stifling his laughter. "I mean, I'm a little nervous."

Kai knit his brows, watching Cole closely. He didn't appear to be nervous, but he was rather good at hiding his own feelings. It was something they had all gotten better at over the years and battles, which they probably shouldn't have ever started doing, but Kai sure didn't feel like airing out his traumas. He would rather shut up and talk about something else anyday.

Kai tilted his head, nudging Cole with his elbow. "What's got you nervous?"

Cole shrugged again, not quite meeting Kai's gaze. "Well, we are both just sitting here, on the beach, alone. Feels like a bad movie plot."

Kai's eyes went wide, then he glanced toward the palm tree where the criminal was futilely trying to free himself. "I mean, we do have a third-wheel."

Cole followed Kai's gaze, then snorted. "Yeah, we do."

Kai threaded his fingers together, cringing slightly at how sweaty his palms felt. "So… when you said it was a bad movie plot, was it a romantic movie?"

Cole got quiet suddenly, and Kai cursed himself for ever opening his mouth. Of course it wasn't a romance flick, what was he thinking? Cole didn't like him the way Kai did, he was being ridiculous and putting the very thing he wanted to protect in jeopardy.

Kai blinked away the frustrated tears building up in his eyes. "Never mind, it was totally an action movie. 'Cause- 'cause we're ninja."

"What if it was an action/romance movie?"

Kai snapped his head up, finding Cole looking at him with something like hope burning in his eyes. "I- what?"

Cole's cheeks flushed, and the earth ninja looked away, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Um. I mean, we're ninja, yeah, so action and stuff? But also there's- there's room for romance and hand-holding and- um."

Kai snickered and Cole scrunched up his nose. "I'm trying!"

Kai laughed outright then, falling against Cole's side from the force of his mirth. They both froze, eyes fleetingly meeting before Kai sat upright again, clearing his throat loudly. "Is this a bad time to come out?"

Kai didn't look at his teammate, didn't let him speak. "Because I'm pan. Like, pansexual."

There was a beat of silence, then Cole sighed. "I owe Jay money."

Kai jerked his head back at Cole. "Why. Do you owe Jay money?"

"I thought you were bi," Cole admitted sheepishly, half hiding his face against the crook of his arm.

Kai stared at Cole, unable to find what to say. The earth ninja filled in the brief silence. "I'm- uh. I'm not really sure what my sexuality is yet, but I mean. Guys. Mostly."

Kai bit down on his lip to keep his giggles in check. "Guys."

Cole nodded, his eyes meeting Kai's. "Like you."

Kai's brows shot up and he knew he was blushing something terrible. "I- me?"

Cole nodded again, his own cheeks pink again. "Yeah. You."

Kai swallowed. "Oh. I think you're- I like you, I guess, a little."

Cole snorted, elbowing Kai's side. "You guess, or you know?"

"Man, don't make me say it!"

Cole fell backwards laughing, grinning up at the sky. "You like me too, then?"

Kai huffed, flopping down beside Cole, tucking his hands under his head. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They drifted into silence, the only sounds their breathing. Kai's heart was still pounding, a roaring sound playing in his ears from how excited he was. Cole said he liked him back, liked him. Kai pressed his lips together, rolling onto his side. "Hey, bro?"

Cole shifted, rolling onto his side to meet Kai's eyes, one of his brows arched. "Bro? Really?"

Kai kicked Cole's shin, ignoring Cole's idginant huff. "If we… you know, like each other. Can we, maybe, kiss?"

Cole blinked, surprised. "I don't see why not? But uh," Cole got shy, cheeks pink again, "I've never kissed anyone."

Kai stared, then snorted, scooching a little bit closer. "So I'm your first?"

Cole nodded. Kai grinned, stopping just before their bodies would be flush. "It isn't difficult, I'll lead."

Cole's lips quirked. "Sure."

Kai cupped Cole's cheek, rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone, smiling when Cole did. Slowly, Kai moved in, barely pressing his lips against Cole's, feather-light and more a brush of air than lips. He pulled away a little, close enough to easily move in and do it again. "Good?"

Cole looked a little lost, and a little miffed. Kai yelped when Cole flipped them, Kai suddenly laying atop Cole, the earth ninja beaming. "Better."

Kai flushed, swatting at Cole's head, cutting off his laughter with a kiss, a real one this time, full on lip-to-lip action. Kai tilted his head a little, moving his lips against Cole's, a mixture of first-time messiness and self-assured techniques. Cole hummed against him, arms tight around his back, holding him flush to Cole, which Kai wasn't about to complain about.

They pulled apart slowly, Kai resting his forehead against Cole's. "So… yeah."

Cole was grinning. "I liked that."

"Good, 'cause I did too. We are so doing that again."

Cole opened his mouth to reply, but clamped his lips shut when a shout sounded nearby.

"I mean, get it I guess!"

Kai shot a venomous glare at the criminal, who didn't look too upset at being tied to a tree anymore. With a sigh and an eye roll, Kai clampered off of Cole. "Sorry for him, I forgot he was there."

Cole nodded, his face painted crimson, sitting up. "Yeah, me too."

Kai stretched slightly, glancing around the beach for any sign of other people. "At least it wasn't the Bounty."

Cole groaned, hiding his face against his knees, making Kai laugh again. Crouching down beside the earth ninja, Kai ruffled his hair. "When did you get so shy?"

Cole shrugged, peeking up at Kai. "I've always been shy."

Kai arched a disbelieving brow, then shrugged. "I'm gonna go find a dorky shell for Lloyd." He walked a few steps, then glanced back over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

Cole hurried to his feet, pinning the criminal with a glare. "If you move, I will magma punch you."

The man tied to the tree paled and made to nod, then froze instead. Kai snorted, reaching for one of Cole's hands, then paused mid-motion. That might be presumptuous to think they were already at hand-holding. Instead, Kai swung his hands, acting like that was his original plan the entire time.

"Aren't you being a little harsh?"

Cole gave Kai the most done expression he had ever seen from the black ninja. "No, I'm being stern."

Kai rolled his eyes, glancing down at the sand at his feet, skimming his gaze down the beach. "Yeah, sure."

Cole elbowed him and Kai yelped, snagging Cole's arm to keep from falling over. They blinked, meeting each other's eyes before Kai coughed and glanced away. He made to let go of Cole's bicep, but Cole held him in place. "If this is an action/romance movie, we probably should stroll down the beach."

Kai gawked, then burst into delighted cackles, tightening his hold on Cole's arm. Maybe being stuck on the beach wasn't all bad after all.

[blzzrdstryr]

Midnight chatter

Yandere Diluc x gn!knight!reader

Wordcount: 2385

CW: Yandere, drugging, kidnapping

This was a third week after his return and fifth day of the tireless fight with winery work, when Diluc received an unexpected guest. During his travels across the world, the winery business fell into disrepair and almost collapsed, so once he learnt the state of the wine industry he decided to settle in his office and try to battle the endless reports about necessary expenses and small profits all on his own.

He started to work with the first rays of sunlight well into the night, squeezing every bit of energy his body had, not only because financial issues could affect him personally, but also because of the night vigilante of Mondstadt title he took upon himself.Due to the increased workload he couldn’t find time to patrol the dark streets and alleys of the city, while experience and conscience didn’t allow him to thrust the safety of ordinary citizens into the hands of bumbling, cowardly and lazy knights.

The day soon turned into the late evening, and dawn winery workers started to go home, when someone knocked on his door. It was Adelinde.

Her steps were faster than usual, her stoic face shadowed by the note of concern. Diluc wanted to say that no, he won’t go and have a rest, but she spoke first.

“Master Diluc”, she stopped before his desk: “we have a guest, a knight”.

He lifted his head shifting the eyes from the report to the head maid and pondered - despite his long absence, a lot of people in the city had a general idea how much he dislikes the Favonius Order and so a rare knight would actually dare to bother him, unless… Unless, they were acting out an order from someone high-ranking, like Jean or Varka for example.

Apprehension that his former colleague somehow learned of his nightly escapades sent an unexpected wave of shivers and vague feeling of unease, but he didn’t let it get to him.

“Ask why this knight is here and if it’s something unofficial tell them to leave”, he ordered, at which Adelinde blinked, slowly and tiredly, as if she was looking for the strength to tell something incredibly upsetting or scary.

“The thing is, master Diluc, that I already let them in”.

“Without my permission?”, his eyes widened at that, and the heart started to pick up the pace. What if this knight was really sent here by Varka or Jean? If it was true, Adelinde, unknowingly set him up to fail.

She was looking after him from his earliest childhood, so she was allowed to do and say more than any other of his staff, yet this perceived audacity was unheard of before.

“They were badly injured and said that they needed to stop for the night and once it’s over they will travel to the city with the first sun rays. We helped them to patch up their injuries and offered a room for guests, yet they declined and remained to sit on sofa”, the maid explained absolutely unfazed, after noticing Diluc’s dissatisfaction and then added : “If you are that displeased, master Diluc, I can tell this tired and battered knight to get out from here into the dark night”.

Her voice remained even and emotionless as usual, but even like that young Ragnvindr could hear a light mocking in her words. And to think about it - he got so freaked out over some silly coincidence - the knight stopped here because of the injuries, not some insidious scheme.

“Alright”, Diluc admitted defeat: “they can stay… and offer them some food and tea”, he added just as Adelinde’s hand touched the doorknob.

“Will be done”, she replied before exiting the office. The corners of her mouth slightly moved and crept upwards.

***

Despite his earlier goal of finishing as much work as he can, Diluc couldn’t do anything. Small digits and letters started to float and dance before his eyes while the long lines fused together, when he tried to analyze the state of wine business in naught. But the worst thing was the fact that his thoughts strayed to the topic of mystery knight again and again and Diluc lost count how many times he caught himself thinking who this person is.

He sat like that for a while, until the cinnabar of dying sky got replaced by the darkness and pleasant chill of the night.

Diluc scolded himself for his uncharacteristic indecisiveness, standing up from the desk and locking the office, when this thought, loud and persisting, knocked into his head again. Wouldn’t it be nice, he wondered, to learn who this night is, and finally decided. After all the thoughts about them pestered him for a long time.

Quietly and carefully walking through the unlit corridor of the winery, he confirmed that all servants and workers had already left for sleep, some into the rooms of the main building designated for them, some into the cabins around it. All in all, he was confident that there’s no one except him, the knight, Adelinde and a couple of other maids.

His steps were quiet and slow and not even a single board in the wooden floor creaked under his weight as he knew the winery like the back of his hand. With a bated breath he made his way downstairs, making out vague shapes of the familiar objects. Moonlight pouring out through the windows illuminated only the silhouettes, but even with that he quickly noticed the unknown frame.

The person was half-sitting half-lying on the sofa, and their sword and armor were placed nearby the furniture, reflecting the pale light of the moon. They weren’t moving, seemingly asleep. Diluc couldn’t make out their face even after making a coming closer, so he decided to take the risk and summoned a small wisp of flame.

The dancing light illuminated everything in a small radius and what he saw made him jolt and take a step back. You were the mystery knight.

Why are you still a knight? Where were you? Who injured you?

Still shocked by the previous revelation, Diluc accidentally knocked over the breastplate with his foot and it fell on it’s side with a loud thump.

You woke up.

“What… Who?”, you stirred and half sat on the elbow: “Ah, it’s you” and saw him :”What are you doing here?”.

Caught red handed, Diluc didn’t find any words - it was so sudden and unusual to be caught unaware, and because of that doubly unpleasant.

“This is my winery and I am free to do whatever I want”, he decided to hide the awkwardness behind the faux annoyance.

“Easy, easy” you half smiled, half yawned: “I just managed to fall asleep”. You yawned again and blinked at him with sleepy tired eyes.

“I have sleep medicine if you want some”

You got surprised and touched by his sudden responsiveness: “Thank you, but I think painkillers would be better. My body is aching and that’s the main problem”.

Maybe because of the trembling, dancing light or maybe because of the recent sleep you imagined worry and pity twisting his facial features.

“I have it too. Wait here”, he quickly replied and vanished into the dim darkness of the winery, not giving you any time to answer, as you were left to sit and wait for him. Diluc, to your own surprise, happened to be extremely stealthy, able to move without producing a single sound.

“Here”, you first heard and then saw him,as Diluc used pyro vision to light the nearby candlestick and then opened the medicine vial he brought and handed it to you: “Drink it all”.

“Thank you”, you whispered to him, taking the painkiller before making a big gulp. The taste was horrible, so horrible in fact that you almost immediately started to violently cough. Well, if it’s as effective as foul, then I will be good as new in no time, you thought to yourself, suppressing the urge to throw up.

Diluc stood nearby and observed your reaction, his hand extended on his own when the coughing started as he awkwardly tried to pat your back in the gesture of comfort. “I will be here with you until you fall asleep”, he stated once the fit stopped and then, seeing your highly raised brows explained further: “Painkiller takes time to work. Tell me if you won’t feel better”.

You nodded in response, and closed eyes, listening to the sensations of your body. Your injuries still burned and screamed and throbbed, yet a strange numb sensation started to slowly surround you. Just like Diluc said, medicine would need time to fully settle in.

“If you're here can you talk with me?”, you decided to shorten the time in conversation: “Ijust wanted to talk with you. For a really long time”.

“About what?”, he allowed himself a shadow of the smile, Diluc that you used to know peeking through the gloomy facade, like a long awaited sun or it’s reflection on the tranquil mirror of the water surface. Next words stuck in your throat, bitter and acidic and totally unfit, and you had to force them out through your own hesitance to destroy this calm.

“What happened that day? The day before you left. I asked Jean and Kaeya and other knights who were present with you, yet no one said anything”, the water surface bubbled and the visage of that old, sunny Ragnvindr shattered into thousand pieces. The person before you adopted the same cold facade of annoyance and indifference.

“Why do you need to know it?”, he answered the question with another question and you sensed barely buried hurt and grief.

“You leaving hurt. A lot”

“That’s why you are still a knight?”, you quickly nodded at that.

A minute passed by and he still stood, without saying a single word, thinking what to do. On one hand, he didn;t want to open up, the story of his eighteenth birthday was incredibly painful and personal experience to be shared so freely, on the other hand he yearned for your understanding.

"Alright", he broke the silence:"Let's make a deal, you answer my questions and I'll tell you the whole story after. Deal?"

"Deal".

Diluc looked at you again, looked at the bruises and cuts, still peeking through the bandages and for a second his mind lit up with one thought alone: what disgusting bastard did that to you. He suppressed the rapidly rising rage, deciding to start from the most important.

"Is my leave the only reason why you decided to stay?" his heart picks up the pace again, he needs to know the answer.

"Basically yes, you knownI didn’t do it for my parents… I just.. That tragedy, I know it's not my place, but… I always wanted what happened to you. I asked this question to myself everyday and night, and I missed you terribly".

His breath hitched and he lowered his gaze. For some reason you always managed to fluster him with the words alone, even if it wasn't your intention.

"Your parents must be happy", h e changed the topic, stifling the heat in his heart.

"Yeah, they're ecstatic that I stopped being difficult and made their aspirations real. Hm, do you have any other questions?"

"What happened to you? ",he pointed at the bandages covering most of your body.

"Ah, catching treasure hoarders does that to you, usual stuff", you dismissed his concerns and Diluc started seeing red from the way your voice remained so calm and unbothered. Usual stuff? Usual stuff?!

"Grandmaster could send anyone else", he snapped:"Favonius Order has more than plenty of vision holders, they should've sent one, instead of you! You could die!".

Diluc’s sudden explosion left you speechless, but soon your own weaved words of irritation:"Ordo Favonius doesn't consist of Jean and Kaeya only. We can't let them handle all the hard and dangerous business all the time. Ordinary people like me can still help, even if the gods didn’t favour us. Don't think of me as some helpless idiot just because I have no shiny vision to show off"

Your heated response seemed to work and Diluc turned red from embarrassment, realizing how annoyed you got, despite the worry for your health and still present anger at the other knights for letting you get hurt. He also didn’t like how you looked at him, reprimanding and disappointed.

"Alright, sorry", he cleared his throat:"where were you before? I haven't seen you anywhere"

"City gates aren't the only thing that needs guarding. I was sent to the Liyue border, to make sure that no treasure gang crosses it. I think I will get sent there again, once I fully recover".

Diluc got angry at that too, yet this time he suppressed unpleasant feelings, already knowing how you will rebuke and reprimand him again. There's no convincing to be done, as you won't change your opinion. You left him no choice for what he was going to do.

"Alright, you answered all my questions", he said before changing topic again:"Did painkillers start working? I have another".

Being so engrossed in the conversation you forgot about the ache, yet once he mentioned it your body started to hurt with a renewed strength.

"Yes, I would like one", you decided and Diluc vanished in the unlit hall yet again.

"Here", he handed the small bottle to you already opened. The new substance was different, sweet and viscous. You managed to take two sips before your eyelids started to feel up with lead, and soon even lifting a hand seemed like a highly arduous task. Whatever the thing that Diluc gave you wasn't a painkiller.

"What…", you uttered, before your body relaxed and you fell asleep once again. Diluc bent over, looming over your unconscious form, as his hands carefully took the bottle away. He didn’t want it to somehow fall and injure you

This is a necessary measure, Diluc assured himself, before making a plan of actions. He would need to fake your disappearance and forge enough leads to direct investigation into the completely opposite direction, but now he needed to wake Adelinde up and ask her to prepare the room in the basement. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable in your new home.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing. 

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

-

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight. 

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast. 

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and  you didn’t want to worry them with your moping. 

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike. 

-

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse. 

“What do you think, Y/N?” 

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow. 

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.” 

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table. 

“Maybe.” 

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless. 

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all. 

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen. 

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal. 

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?” 

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took. 

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” 

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.” 

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.” 

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend. 

-

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing. 

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched. 

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?” 

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems. 

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.” 

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out. 

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.” 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.” 

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.” 

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his. 

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks. 

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.” 

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough. 

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly. 

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.” 

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal. 

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close. 

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?” 

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again. 

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.” 

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly. 

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod. 

“I’d really like that.” 

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips. 

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed. 

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

[angsty-omi]

arms tonite

fuckboy!atsumu miya x fem!reader

genre: angst, unrequited love,

cw: suggestive content, swearing, heartbreak

word count: 1.5 k

Different girl every night and no repeats; that was the rule of law Atsumu Miya lived by. Whether it was Asians, Whites, or Black girls he didn’t discriminate. If they had a beating heart and a pussy then he was set. Hearing about these conquests as his best friend, really made you think ‘wow who’s the poor that let Atsumu put his dick in that night?’ And as you would find it, soon enough it’d be you.

Media portrayal of college students, especially in movies, falsely portrayed college students and gave unrealistic ideas of how they live. These media outlets give impractical ideas of what college students are- intense party seekers, people who have all the time in the world, or just lazy nonworking students who revolve everything around their social lives. This was, by all means not true.

You, and many other diligent college students, can attest to this. The heavy number of finals and research papers due would soon drown you in your sleep. To prevent you from feeling overwhelmed, you always went to him. The one person who could talk your ear off, which though annoying, kept your mind off things, Miya Atsumu. See, Atsumu had the ultimate college experience. The ones that occurred on screen, the ‘intense party seeking’ events where somehow your invite was always lost in the mail. Every Wednesday, you’d always fit him into your schedule for brunch, which mostly consisted of him talking about the ‘new freshman babes’ at the Inarizaki Frat House, and you lived vicariously through him, not because you were envious of his lifestyle, rather, you were just interested in what could’ve been. 

“Did you get that Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted.

“U-uh, yeah! Of course, I did.” You tried playing it off, but Atsumu could see right through you. He knew all your mannerisms, for example, when you bite your lip, it’s a sign that you’re prepared for a big change or if you handball your T-Shirt, you’re feeling insecure. He could tell you had something weighing in on you, but he decided to ignore your blatant lie and wait for you to tell him.

“So, are you gonna tell how you’ve been doin’?” He lightly asked. 

“Yeah, uh life has been hard for me… I guess. It’s just that- with all these finals I am feeling so overwhelmed,” you buried your face in your hands to attempt forgetting about school. Knowing Atsumu, he would just drown out your sorrow, or so you thought. You continued, “I can’t eat, sleep, or you know-,” not even acknowledging the fact you just referred about your inability to get off. Atsumu became was suspiciously quiet. 

“What,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Nothing, Nothing,” he shook his head, chuckling.

 “No, seriously what’s so funny?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Ya’ reeeaaaallly want to know?”

“I said yes already, just spit it out,” you irritated with anticipation. 

“I could help your little issue down there,” Atsumu grinned. Studying? When has Atsumu Miya ever wanted to study with you? The only reason he got into this school was because  he was a D1 athlete. Unless, he turned a new leaf and he chose a path where you don’t slap a ball back and forth because quite frankly you thought that it was risky caree- Oh. That little issue. “You’ve got to be kidding, I would never,” you felt offended. It wasn’t that he was ugly, it was quite the opposite. He had a charming personality, while also being built like a Greek God, and with a face like that it’s no wonder these girls fall for him. However, you felt too prideful to sleep with him. Sure, you may have some underlying feelings for him that you shut down deep inside, but you didn’t want to be treated like a human toy. So, that thought was always out of the question.  

“Never say n-” He was interrupted with his corny ringtone.

“Hello?... Yeah, I’m free, right now… Alright, see you then.” 

Atsumu always did this, it was like clockwork. He’d bail on you when you clearly were in distress and he could not even prioritize time to listen. He even, left you with the check. Sure, he’d Venmo you afterwards, but it still hurt nonetheless. On the walk back to your dorm, your thoughts were full of cursing Atsumu out for always bailing on you. Holding it in for so long only lasted you so much before you exploded. 

That night, Atsumu came over, not even expecting your wrath. 

An hour in, and he still couldn’t understand your argument. “Atsumu, if you could just.. I don’t know- not bail on me? Cause you know, it’s common courtesy!” You exclaimed. 

“Dude, it was literally just a few times, I don’t know why you’re getting so upset?”

“Upset? Upset? Upset is an understatement. How would you feel if I dropped you for some dick?”

“Like that would ever happen. C’mon, Y/N, you’re acting like my girlfriend and I’m uncomfortable.” He blurted, frustrated that this argument has lasted almost two hours. He just rejected you, and you didn’t even get the chance to even address those feelings. 

“Get out.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t care, get out.” You wiped a treacherous tear from your eye. You opened the door, and gestured him to leave. But, he just stood there. Moving over to him in tears, you tried to push him out. Your measly arms were incomparable to his toned abs that he’s built since high school. He grasped your arms, and for a moment you could feel his padded thumb, wiping your cheek. Your faces were only a few inches away. This was your chance to get a taste of him, before he turned into a stranger. You leaned in his lips.

The lack of return made your heart drop. You let go and rambled with apologies,“I-I’m so sorry. Look, I-” He shut you up with another kiss, more passionate than yours. “I told ya’ I could fix that little issue of yours.”

The morning after, you woke up with your body aching in pain. Drool all over your chin, and in disgust, you wiped your mouth and skimmed your calendar. ‘The biomedical final isn’t at 10, it’s at 8-’ whispering to yourself. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Then, you slowly gazed at your alarm clock, ‘7:57 AM’ it read. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” you screamed to yourself. Without thinking, you dashed out the door and sped to the testing center. At the entrance, your professor met eyes with you. “Testing entry is closed, I thought you were better than this, Y/N.” Scolding you up and down. I only missed the final by a couple of minutes, why is she shunning me? You thought. But before you could continue, you looked down. There you were, love marks all over, in your panties and an oversized T-shirt to top it off. 

You rushed into your dorm, to find the vampire who did this to you. The universe was seemingly against you once more, because on your way over to your bedroom, you slipped on a textbook. How ironic. The loud slam woke him up, making him sit upright. “Oh my God Y/N are you okay?” He said with a concerned look on his face.

“Why the fuck are you still in my bed?” 

“Well if you wanna know the details-” He smirked, “No no no, I’m okay,” you interrupted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what went on. 

You felt blood drip on your upper lip. Both of you just stared in shock. Immediately, he swiped you up, bridal style, and plopped you onto the sink. He stood in between your legs, soaking your nose with numerous amounts of toilet paper. There was a comfortable silence in the air. You know, Atsumu was quite beautiful with his mouth closed. The way the sunlight accentuated his sharp features, with his eyes reflecting a shade of light hazel. In an impulse, you pecked his lips and to your surprise, he reciprocated. 

It’s been a month since you’ve been hooking up and it’s become your new normal. As a small treat, you wanted to do surprise.

Prior to this dynamic, as best friends you always had a spare key, which his twin brother made sure of because Atsumu was forgetful. As tacky as it was, you were wearing a trench coat, that covered your bright red two-piece lingerie underneath. Silently twisting the knob, you walked into to his bedroom. The apartment was still clean, signaling that he wasn’t home. In which, gave you enough time to position yourself on his bed. After many awkward attempts of seductive positions, you chose the cross-over leg at the edge of his bed, which accentuated your hips. 

You heard his front door open, and his loud voice gave you the signal. You felt relaxed, but it wasn’t until you heard another voice. High-pitched and fruity, it was one of those voices you could tell it’d belong to a pretty girl. You panicked, and mentally scolded yourself for pushing Atsumu to go with a minimalist aesthetic for his bedroom, which left nowhere to hide for you. The knob was opened slightly, where only he could see you. Eye contact was made, and he immediately slammed the door shut. 

There was a muffled, “Hey! uh- my room is kind of dirty right now. Let’s go over to yours.” And after, hearing the front door shut, you assumed she complied. In awe, you mentally kicked yourself over and over again. You took off your attire immediately walking into your bedroom, it burned your skin with insecurities and embarrassment. So much for putting yourself out there. Although, what hurt the most was the way his eyes were full of disgust when he saw you.

That night, he knocked at your door. You opened it, thinking it was your food.

Your heart was beating rapidly, because just an hour ago you made a whole scheme of routes to take without seeing him. You coyly responded with, “you’re not my DoorDash,” and tried to close the door. But he blocked it.

“We need to talk,” he said in the most serious tone you’ve personally ever heard from him. How could those words scare you when you’re not in a relationship.

“What was that shit you pulled earlier?” He irritated. You felt so small under his gaze.

“I thought it would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. “Nice? That girl was the president of one of the most notorious sororities. She could’ve seen you.” He yelled, continuously blaming you. The way he viewed her, would never be the way he saw you. You were just a friend who needed a favor, not someone he actually wanted to pursue.

“You know what? Fine, my fault. Sorry that I ruined it, sorry that I showed up, sorry that I even planned it, sorry I ever thought that you saw me more than just a skank, sorry I even called you over that night, and finally, sorry for ever loving-” it just slipped out. His eyes widened, “Finish that sentence, Y/N. If I knew-”

“Knew what? Knew that I loved you, you wouldn’t have gotten involved? Yeah, well it’s too late. You know what? Just get out. I never want to see you again, Miya,” you sobbed, tears flowing down your face freely. Pounding your fists against his chest. His immobility gave you a small sliver of hope.

“I’m not ready, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.” Conflicted, unbeknownst whether he was talking to you or himself. “But we can still be friends.”

That sentence was the nail in the coffin.

“It hurts to even look at you Atsumu.” Your voice cold. For someone that could read you so well, why did he think that would save your relationship? “I’ll.. be on my way then.” He slowly got up, and turned the knob. Selfishly enough, he made one more glance at you. He embraced this last glance. Did you know you were beautiful? Even with snot, running down your nose. Of course, you didn’t look back, you were too focused on biting your lips.

Atsumu’s face went pale. He knew what sign that meant. And the change was him. You were really set on ghosting him. With the door closed and Atsumu leaning on it, he couldn’t help to question why that made a pang in his heart.

[kataraslove]

katara: “do you hear that?”

aang: “sounds like it’s coming from over there...”

for kataang week day 3: post canon @kataang-week​

newly wedded aang and katara (now sporting a cute little bob) were travelling across the world for their honeymoon. on their way to the kingdom of omashu, the two decided to stop and revisit the cave of two lovers. as aang and katara leaned in for a quick kiss by the entrance of the cave, they heard a blood-curling scream come from inside. immediately pulling away, the couple shared a suspicious look with each other before deciding to investigate.

katara cautiously grabbed her pouch as aang drew out a small flame to lead the way. however, the waterbender stopped her husband to remind him that the tunnels were filled with fluorescent crystals that glowed in the dark. 

“oh yeah,” aang recalled. he looked down at the flame dwindling in his palm. “i’ll put it out when we get further in there. if we hear screaming again, we’ll be able to find out where it came from.” 

“you can also use your earth bending this time around.” 

aang nodded. “that i can.” the gentle lines of his face - reserved especially for his wife - quickly switched up to the avatar look, the signature look that he bore whenever there was danger and people in need of his help. 

“let’s go.”

(continued under the cut, 2.4k words)

the broad sunlight of the summer day was reduced to a small crevice against their backs, as the two lovers made their way into the shadows of the labyrinth. their primary light source came from aang’s flame, which had grown brighter the farther they travelled. the avatar could not help but become a little bit mesmerized with the vivid red and orange hues that danced in his left palm, the warmth that occupied his hand having stretched out to his entire body. the flame synchronized so perfectly well with his heartbeat. fire is life, he recalled the words of the sun warrior chief. not just destruction. 

aang nearly chuckled out loud. firebending came so naturally to him now - almost as natural as his airbending. to think that there was ever a time that he had outright hated the element and vowed to never learn it, even if it had meant jeopardizing his avatarhood.

however, a small voice crept to the back of his mind, uncomfortably reminding of the exact reason as to why he initially refused to learn the element at the age of twelve. it was the same reason that brought shame and guilt inside his gut - even eight years later - whenever the memory unexpectedly crossed his mind. what he had done to katara on that day, how he had refused to listen to jeong jeong’s advice and lost control of his fire, the image of her fresh burns - it was all there, forever smeared across his brain and heart as a painful reminder. no matter how many times katara had insisted that good had come from that day through the discovery of her healing abilities, aang could never wash away the trauma associated with that event.

he inhaled sharply. it won’t happen again. he wasn’t twelve anymore, and he had full control over all the elements now. fire was energy, he had learned, and life.

sparing a glance at katara, who had been awfully quiet since they got into the cave, he noticed that his wife was chewing anxiously on her lower lip. the trouble in her beautiful features was easily detectable by the bright flames within his hand. he moved closer to her, his shoulder gently bumping hers in an attempt to comfort her. “you okay?”

she met his eyes, and he could see the hint of fear reflected in them. “aang, i’m worried.”

“you have nothing to be worried about,” aang reassured her with a small smile. “whatever it is, or whoever it is, we can take ‘em.”

katara shook her head. “i’m not worried about the who. we’ve probably dealt with far worse than whatever is lingering in this cave. but i - aang, what if it’s bad?”

he frowned, confused. “what if what’s bad, then?”

she studied her hands carefully. her hands were the hands of a fighter, of a healer. the same hands who had resurrected an avatar back to life and saved a firelord from near death, while dismantling another firelord from the throne. he felt the sudden urge to draw her hands in his own, to hold her tight enough to ease away her fears.

“what if there’s a bunch of dead bodies stashed away in this tunnel, rotting away for days or even weeks?” she answered in alarm, eyes widening at the dark path ahead of them. “or, what if there’s a bunch of people lying around in pain, on the brink of death, and I don’t have enough water to save them all?”

his eyes turned to the road ahead. he saw nothing, except for earth and more earth. but he knew better than to dismiss those kind of fears. 

“that wouldn’t be your fault.” he responded gently. “we’ll do our best to help, to make sure that whoever is out there is safe and unharmed. but if they do happen to be harmed - or worse, dead - and we’ve tried everything that we could,” he shuttered out a breath at the imagery. “i don’t want you to blame yourself for whoever you can’t save, katara.”

“and i don’t want you to blame yourself, aang.” she placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked on. he tried to ignore the immediate sweep of panic churning in his stomach at her proximity to the fire. if he envisioned a future with both katara and firebending, he would have to get used to accepting that she would be around the times when he required the element. 

“i know you feel a sense of responsibility, as the avatar, to ensure that the world is kept safe,” she continued on. her voice softened, a sad tone. “i know it upsets you when it isn’t.”

“wasn’t i the one consoling you just a second ago?” aang joked, deflecting. 

“we’re consoling each other.” katara insisted with a small smile. the corners of her mouth dropped at her next statement: “i know you don’t like to talk about it, aang, the stress and pressure that you feel. but i also know how it keeps you up at night. why you choose to sometimes spend long periods of time meditating.”

just like that, she had flipped the switch on him in the way that only she knew how. katara was undoubtedly right. of course he had seen and experienced his fair amount of injustice and morbidity; they all had. but the guilt of not being able to do anything about it - to know that people all over the world were counting on him to end their suffering and plight and despair, while there were many days when all he could do was sit in lavish cushions arguing endlessly with politicians who could not relate to the earth kingdom boy who had nothing to eat, or to the water tribe girl who had lost her parents, or to the air nomad who was the sole survivor of an entire culture - ate away at his heart and mind at every minute of every hour. even now, when he was supposed to be enjoying his blissful vacation with his wife.

“aang.” he felt katara lightly pull his chin towards her, forcing him to look at her before his mind could wander down the same dangerous road that it had so many days and nights before. she stopped the two in their tracks, the light from his palm illuminating their darkened features.

the fire reflected back in the indigo of her eyes, embodying the energy and intensity and life that was katara, his best friend, his saviour. suddenly, he was transported back to a time during the war, when he had just been a fidgety twelve year-old boy staring up at his fourteen year-old best friend. his heart thumped furiously against his chest the closer he inched to her face. when their lips met, he felt electricity course through his veins and wondered if the warmth that pooled in his stomach was what love felt like. 

as he caught her lips in his own again, this time at the age of twenty, he could confirm - a memoir to his twelve year old self - that the warmth was indeed love. but love was also so much more, he came to realize over the years. love was the cautious hands of a fourteen year-old girl spending weeks at his side, healing him from his coma, sobbing in despair and frustration when he would not wake up. love was the way that he had thrown his arms around her waist, and she around his neck, relief flooding each other’s veins at the knowledge that they were both alive and safe and together after his defeat of ozai and her defeat of azula. love was the way her hand fit so perfectly in his, palm pressed to palm and fingers intertwined, as the two watched the early formations of republic city from their home, vowing to leave a lasting legacy on a world where benders and non-benders of all types could live together in safety and harmony.

love was also the brief kiss in an abandoned cave that said a million more things than he could ever say in words. 

when the two pulled back, he noted the way that her eyes twinkled up at him under the fluorescent light. the crystals shone overhead, leading them down a familiar path, just as how it had done when he was twelve. aang checked his left palm and realized that he had extinguished his flame during the kiss. 

katara’s smile reached her eyes when she grabbed for his hand, pulling him along. “funny,” she said, bemused. “that thing you said when we were kids. guess it held up all these years, didn’t it?”

“what thing?”

“oh, you know,” she replied with a casual shrug, a mischievous glint forming in her eye. “you choosing to kiss me over dying - ”

he groaned. she was never going to let him live that one, was she?

“did i say that?” aang feigned innocence. “i can’t quite recall. maybe what my awkward twelve-year old self had meant to say, instead, was that the thought of not being able to kiss you is just so unbearable that i would rather have chosen death.”

“mmhmmm. sure you had.” a blush slowly crept up her cheeks, betraying her sarcastic tone. success.

“good thing that hasn’t happened yet, though. the not being able to kiss you anymore part.” he paused, adding as an afterthought: “the death part, too, if we’re being honest.”

“don’t speak so soon. what if there’s a serial killer in here?” she hushed him, looking around conspiratorially. 

“you’d rather a serial killer kiss you instead of your own husband? ouch.” 

she smacked his arm. “aang! i’m serious. with the recent bender supremacy uprisings going on in major cities of the earth kingdom, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. what’s stopping a bender supremacist from kidnapping a bunch of non-benders in omashu and dumping their bodies in this cave right now?”

“well, for starters, we would’ve heard by now if that were the case, wouldn’t we have? there’d be rumours, like with what happened with hama. so far, there hasn’t been any reports of mysterious non-bender disappearances in the cities where the uprisings are taking place. definitely not any in omashu.”

a dark look settled across katara’s face at the mention of the estranged bloodbender. “an earth bender supremacist could be dragging bodies from the city and burying them in the rubble of the tunnels. no one would even think to look because the legend says that the cave is cursed.”

aang scratched his head, suddenly very wary about his surroundings. his eyes scanned everywhere around him, from the plethora of crystals that provided them light on top to the solid stone that held the cave in place, trying to spot any semblance of a decomposing body. just as before, he couldn’t detect anything unusual.

while he knew that katara’s suspicions had merit to them, his mind still hesitated over the idea of a bender supremacist trapping people in caves. he would have heard something by now, if that were the case. besides, they were drawing all of these inferences from a scream that he wasn’t even sure came from a human. the high-pitched sound could have belonged to a species of wolfbats, for all they knew. and even if it were to emerge out of a person, who was to say that it was connected to the victim of a bender supremacist murderer? it could have been from a lost and hungry traveler stuck in the cave for days, unsure of their way out. or perhaps it was from someone whose foot was trapped under rubble, screaming out in sheer pain. maybe it even belonged to a villager being chased by an angry spirit.

he walked over to one of the walls, running his hand over the sharp rocks that pricked at his skin. or perhaps, he thought bitterly, gritting his teeth, it was his own refusal to accept that he was failing the world again that led him to dismiss such possibilities. given the political climate, it was entirely possible that bender supremacists were using their bending to hide bodies within the cave. he just wasn’t aware of any of it because it was all taking place underneath his nose, while he remained in blissful ignorance with the women he loved on what was supposed to be his vacation.

aang closed his eyes. he focused on the vibrations emitting from the ground, trying to detect if there was anything that could give him a clue, like a direction to the source of the scream. he was even searching for the large footsteps of badger moles or the fluttering wings of wolfbats. while he was no toph, his earthbending had vastly improved over the years to the point where he had gotten very good at perceiving the world around and underneath him through vibrations. but this time around, he was sensing absolutely nothing. 

well, not entirely nothing. aang noted that some parts of the earth below his hand felt kind of fresh. and quite warm. it didn’t take an earth bender to realize that their texture and temperature were evidently different from the rocks comprising the rest of the cave. this new formation of rock - whatever it was - also felt very familiar to him, almost like he had dealt with this type before. 

his eyes widened in recognition. it was rock that had hardened after the eruption of a volcano. and not just any ordinary eruption; a special kind of eruption that didn’t require any volcano whatsoever.

lavabending.

“hey, katara. would you be able to come over here? i think i found something.”

aang’s words were interrupted by the sudden howl of a blood-curling scream. this time, he had felt the vibrations perfectly through the earth, and spirits did they hurt. he winced in pain, his ears ringing, reflexively removing his hand off the ground.

the screaming did not seem to stop the longer the seconds passed. multiple more emitted from the path ahead in unison, echoing off the chambers of the cave. his heart pounded. there was no denying that the cries had unmistakably belonged to humans. 

katara already had a stream of water out from her pouch. she had sprang into action, pointing in the precise direction that the noise was coming from. 

“this way,” she shouted, running ahead. 

be careful, he couldn’t help think as he trailed after her.

--

this art was adapted from the following comic panel in imbalance part 2:

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch are slowly becoming a proper team! No more secrets! (for the most part)

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 4-6 are below the cut.

heart

Losing that comfort of sleeping in each other’s arms after the Victory Tour must have been hard for Katniss and Peeta! Up until Katniss hurts her ankle, they probably didn’t really do much about it, just trying to make it through on their own... After she hurt her ankle and Peeta’s spending more time over at her place, I can easily imagine him staying over, at least until she’s fallen asleep, which might help a little... Since they are living only three houses apart from each other, I like to imagine that they can see each other’s bedroom windows from their bedroom (how else would Katniss know that Peeta sleeps with the windows open? I can’t really imagine that they would be able to open the windows of the train they were on - y’know, for “safety reasons” (i.e. making sure nobody can escape)); maybe they’d both light a candle and put it by their window, as a signal they are going to sleep... It’s not the same, but it helps a little 

mind

I mean, aside from the systemic rigging of the reaping system (i.e. poorer people generally having more entries, so they can have some food), I can easily imagine there being a manipulation of the “odds” when someone becomes too vocal or troublesome for the local authorities, such as someone trying to unionize a district’s workforce, for example

soul

In the districts, their impact has to be big - their win alone was a huge defiance of the Games as they used to be... sticking together and sticking up for each other ultimately led to them defeating the Capitol’s rules! In-between the Games and the Victory Tour I don’t think there was much noteworthy going on (although maybe the fact that, so far, none of the new victors’ loved ones had been hurt - Prim, Mrs. E., but also Gale and his family would be visible during the celebrations, I’m sure, same probably goes for the Mellark’s - might tell the people in the district that Snow and his cronies were aware of the attention any assassination attempt would gather and that this, in turn, might actually could become the last straw that would spark a revolution. In a way, that was proof that the people on top were at least a little afraid of what the people in the districts would do...) And then, especially during the visit of D11, with Katniss expressing her thanks and Peeta reaching out to share their winnings with the people from D11, another district than their own - it must have provided a lot of inspiration, I’m sure. 

As for the Capitolites, maybe some of them would notice for once how unhappy/riled up the people in some of the districts were... or at least stop to think about how this time, a show of love and companionship actually provided more “entertainment” and intrigue than the brutal gore and bloodshed from previous Games (also, longer lasting - there is actually much more “story” to be had from the star-crossed lovers from D12 than from any individual winner of previous Games, if you think about it... Their “love story” is still on-going, with an upcoming wedding and the promise of a family... it’s still creepy and voyeuristic as hell, though)

Chapter 4

Everything he [Haymitch] said was true about the Capitol’s expectations, my future with Peeta, even his last comment. Of course, I could do a lot worse than Peeta. That isn’t really the point, though, is it? One of the few freedoms we have in District 12 is the right to marry who we want or not marry at all. And now even that has been taken away from me. - God, this sucks so much! As Katniss rightly points out, her misery isn’t about Peeta at all - it’s about her (and also his, just pointing that out) agency being taken away! She’s being stripped even of that little sliver of agency that inhabitants of D12 usually have (choice of whom to marry, or whether to marry at all)

I wonder if President Snow will insist we have children. - Eugh, just the idea of Snow being the one to have the last word on that subject... 🤢 The invasion of privacy here... - The only person who should get to decide whether Katniss should have children or not is Katniss herself! Period!

My mind searches frantically for a way out. I can’t let President Snow condemn me to this. Even if it means taking my own life. Before that, though, I’d try to run away. - Boy, Katniss is even contemplating taking her own life, rather than to submit to the life the Capitol wants to force on her; it’s not her first choice (she’d rather run away), but it shows the desperation she’s feeling

Could I even manage to take everyone I love with me, start a new life deep in the wild? Highly unlikely but not impossible. - Later we will see that Peeta and Haymitch also belong into the category of “people Katniss loves” 😊(as well as her family, Gale, and his fam, of course)

“And Peeta’s team is probably still asleep.” “Doesn’t he need prepping?” I ask. “Not the way you do,” Effie replies. What does this mean? It means I get to spend the morning having the hair ripped off my body while Peeta sleeps in. I hadn’t thought about it much, but in the arena at least some of the boys got to keep their body hair whereas none of the girls did. - Gotta love that everlasting sexism that, even far into the future, still won’t allow women to have frickin’ body hair (y’know, like most humans do 🙄)

I can remember Peeta’s now, as I bathed him by the stream. Very blond in the sunlight, once the mud and blood had been washed away. Only his face remained completely smooth. Not one of the boys grew a beard, and many were old enough to. I wonder what they did to them. - Katniss seems to have committed every single detail about Peeta to her memory, including how his body hair looked when she cleaned him in the last Games... okay 👀😏 On a more somber note, what is it that the Capitol is doing to these poor kids?! The boys couldn’t grow beards and - I’m assuming - the girls wouldn’t get their periods while in the arena (since the Games can last for weeks, it would be a huge disadvantage if any of the girls also had to content with cramps + periods  - aside from worrying about getting murdered, I mean); it’s such a violation of one’s autonomy over one’s own body, yikes

Flavius tilts up my chin and sighs. “It’s a shame Cinna said no alterations on you.” “Yes, we could really make you something special,” says Octavia. “When she’s older,” says Venia almost grimly. “Then he’ll have to let us.” - Eeek, no thanks!😦 And frankly, it really shouldn’t be Cinna’s call to make but, y’know, Katniss’s!!! I don’t know, I get real panick-y just reading this exchange (I have never even gotten my ears pierced - my mom wouldn’t let them be pierced until I could make my own decision on that subject matter and as someone with skin issues and bad experiences with needles, I really don’t feel the need to have any unnecessary metal inserted into my body, so... I’m good)

His [Peeta’s] apology takes me by surprise. It’s true that Peeta froze me out after I confessed that my love for him during the Game was something of an act. But I don’t hold it against him. [...] “I’m sorry, too,” I say. [...] “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. You were keeping us alive.” - That apology of Peeta’s... *chef’s kiss*; it was totally understandable that Peeta was upset and needed some time apart from Katniss after her confession, which had caught him completely by surprise, not even Katniss blames him for that... But his apology shows that he really made use of their time apart to work out his emotions and to reflect on both their situations - that’s some emotional maturity to be envious of! Plus, his apology is a good move to get their communication channel opened up again

It would be nice if he’d come to me with this earlier, before I knew that President Snow had other plans and just being friends was not an option for us anymore. But either way, I’m glad we’re speaking again. - Come on, Katniss, cut this boy some slack! He can’t read minds - how is he supposed to know about these things if you don’t tell him anything? It’s nice that you’re glad that you guys are on speaking terms again, but communication isn’t a one-way street, y’know?

I remember the tiger lily cookie and, now that Peeta is talking to me again, it’s all I can do not to recount the whole story about President Snow. But I know Haymitch wouldn’t want me to. I’d better stick to small talk. - Katniss really should have listened to her instincts here - Haymitch might have a better idea of how the Games/Capitol works, but he knows little about teamwork, which is an important factor in their specific (and unprecedented!) situation; I’m not blaming Katniss for relying on her mentor here, but this entire approach is going to crash and burn in the next chapter

It’s good to feel his fingers entwined with mine again, not for show but in actual friendship. We walk back to the train hand in hand. - Not to say that you can’t have friendships where you frequently hold hands - you totally can - but it is noteworthy that I don’t think I can recall Katniss holding hands with any of her other friends... (somehow, I can’t really picture Katniss holding hands with Gale casually like that... nor with Madge or Finnick later on) 

At the door, I remember, “I’ve got to apologize to Effie first.” “Don’t be afraid to lay it on thick,” Peeta tells me.- There is something about this exchange that speaks to me... maybe because it reads like some sort of an inside joke between them? Or because it shows that, despite being on good terms with Effie, Peeta’s totally aware of how high-maintenance/over the top Effie is... I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peeta has painted the Games. Some you wouldn’t get right away, if you hadn’t been with him in the arena yourself. Water dripping through the cracks in our cave. The dry pond bed. [...] Others any viewer would recognize. The golden horn called the Cornucopia. [...] And me. I am everywhere. [...] “What do you think?” he asks. “I hate them,” I say. I can almost smell the blood, the dirt, the unnatural breath of the mutt. - These are the pieces Peeta meant to exhibit in the Capitol, right? I wonder if he hoped that these paintings of his impressions/memories of the Games might actually connect with some Capitolites and might even move them to feel some empathy for the Tributes? Maybe he hoped that they would be more receptive for that kind of thing if he packaged it in art?

“All I do is go around trying to forget the arena and you’ve brought it back to life. How do you remember these things so exactly?” “I see them every night,” he says. [...] “Me too. Does it help? To paint them out?” “I don’t know. I think I’m a little less afraid of going to sleep at night, or I tell myself I am,” he says. “But they haven’t gone anywhere.” - I do wonder, whether and how painting out these moments could have therapeutic value for Peeta - on the one hand, the act of painting out specific intrusions/flashbacks might be helpful because he’d end up focusing on the more technical side of painting, y’know? Focussing on mixing the right shade of a certain color might help create some emotional distance from the moment itself... also, since painting usually takes some time, Peeta would actually spend a considerable amount of time facing these moments head on, rather than trying to avoid them (avoidance tends to increase the frequency of flashback/intrusions) and maybe spending so much time on them could also help him contextualize them within the broader narrative of his life, which is the basic principle behind Narrative Exposure Therapy, which is said to be pretty effective at treating PTSD... just my two cents

I can’t believe the size of District 11. “How many people do you think live here?” Peeta asks. I shake my head. In school they refer to it as a large district, that’s all. No actual figures on the population. - Perfect example of how tightly the Capitol controls the information the people in the districts have about the other districts... which is basically nothing. Let’s keep them in the dark so they are less likely to connect with each other and band together...

Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. - Lol, Katniss bringing everything back to Peeta because she definitely hasn’t a crush on the guy, I see 😉

And then he [Peeta] hesitates before adding something that wasn’t written on the card. Maybe because he thought Effie might make him remove it. “It can in no way replace your losses, but as a token of our thanks we’d like for each of the tributes’ families from District Eleven to receive one month of our winnings every year for the duration of our lives.” - Peeta, the rebel! Talk about an act of radical kindness! I’m so proud of him. But also, I think this is another excellent example of how he and Katniss are on the same wavelength (this took me some time to find, but here you go): I silently say good-bye to Thresh and thank him for my life. I promise to remember him and, if I can, do something to help his family and Rue’s, if I win. (Ch. 23, THG)

I look at Peeta and he gives me a sad smile. I hear Haymitch’s voice. “You could do a lot worse.” At this moment, it’s impossible to imagine how I could do any better. The gift... it is perfect. So when I rise up on tiptoe to kiss him, it doesn’t seem forced at all. - Peeta: does anything that exemplifies his sense of morality; Katniss: *swoons* - but honestly, it is so beautiful how Katniss is so attracted to Peeta’s goodness and kind heart - it also tells us a lot about her (she is quite pure, as Peeta will point out later in this book) and what she values

“Wait, please.” I don’t know how to start, but once I do, the words rush from my lips as if they’ve been forming in the back of my mind for a long time. - And then Katniss launches into one of her spontaneous, heart-felt, and inspiring speeches/acts, expressing her thanks, sympathy, and a sense of kinship with people beyond the borders of her district, beyond the superficial barriers the Capitol has been trying to maintain in order to weaken the ‘common folk‘ and keep the exploitation going

The full impact of what I’ve done hits me. It was not intentional - I only meant to express my thanks - but I have elicited something dangerous. An act of dissent from the people of District 11. - Again, Katniss has done something that will solidify her as a symbol of the revolution without intending to do so and that’s the point, I think - she inspires people through her genuine displays of caring for others (which, in Panem, is already rebellious on its own)

Chapter 5

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. - Protective Peeta! Also, I think it’s interesting to note the wording of Peeta’s arms “encircling” Katniss and then “guiding” her - his arms surround her, and he’s leading her away from harm (at least to the extent that is in his power - can’t really be safe from harm in Panem, can you?), but it doesn’t seem smothering or oppressive  to Katniss in any way -”guide” has more of a connotation of giving direction without force, imo; in contrast, when Katniss talked about her kiss with Gale she mentions she’d never imagined how those hands [...] could as easily entrap me. (Ch. 2, CF); granted, these are two very different situations - the phrasing just stood out to me

“What happened?” Effie hurries over. “We lost the feed just after Katniss’s beautiful speech, and then Haymitch said he thought he heard gun fire, and I said it was ridiculous, but who knows? There are lunatics everywhere!” - Very telling how a clueless Capitolite like Effie wouldn’t register the rebellious aspect of Katniss’s speech; by keeping the Capitolites in the depths of sweet, sweet ignorance while simultaneously harshly trying to curb any spark of rebellion by cutting off the feed, the government is actually drawing the attention of the ignorant Capitolites to the act of rebellion itself (and also letting the people in the districts know that there was something censor-worthy going on); kind of shooting themselves in the foot here

As far as I know, Haymitch has only been here once, when he was on his Victory Tour decades ago. But he must have a remarkable memory or reliable instincts, because he leads us up through a maze of twisting staricases and increasingly narrow halls. [...] Eventually we climb a ladder to a trapdoor. When Haymitch pushes it aside, we find ourselves in the dome of the Justice Building. - I wonder how Haymitch has come to know this part of the Justice Building? Has he been to District 11 more often than Katniss supposes (he is friends with Chaff, after all), did his mentor take him there for some private conversation, or was there a moment during Haymitch’s Victory Tour where he felt so overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and powerlessness that he fled to the most desolate, solitary place he could find?

“I was supposed to fix things on this tour. [...] Calm things down. But obviously, all I’ve done today is get three people killed, and now everyone in the square will be punished.” I feel so sick that I have to sit down on a couch, despite the exposed springs and stuffing. - Obviously, all of this is awful and no one - especially a traumatized, 16-year old girl - should have to suffer carrying such a burden... But also, here we see one of the downsides of Katniss taking sole responsibility for everything - she totally forgot that Peeta might feel responsible too, only that he didn’t even know what’s at stake - which leads us to-

“Then I made things worse, too. By giving the money,” says Peeta. Suddenly he strikes out at a lamp that sits precariously on a crate and knocks it across the room, where it shatters against the floor. “This has to stop. Right now. This - this - game you two play, where you tell each other secrets but keep them from me like I’m too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them.”"It's not like that, Peeta-" I begin. "It's exactly like that!" he yells at me. - When kind, gentle Peeta’s mad, you know shit has hit the fan 😳 But also, being passed over/kept out of the loop seems to hit pretty close to home for Peeta (while I would like to know what his home life looked like before the Games, I have to admit that at this point, I’m somewhat afraid I might not be able to handle the truth...). I just think this scene is an important moment that leads to an end of (most of) their detrimental secrecy (hello end-of-CF-Haymitch!) and establishes their little team as such (hence the drawing)

“You’re always so reliably good, Peeta,” says Haymitch. “So smart about how you present yourself before the cameras. I didn’t want to disrupt that.” “Well, you overestimated me. Because I really screwed up today.” - Remember the last time someone overestimated Peeta (Foxface and the berries)? That ended in someone’s death as well... And, Haymitch? ‘Never assume’ applies to you, too!

“Do you think I gave them [Rue’s and Thresh’s families] a bright future? Because I think they’ll be lucky if they survive the day!” Peeta sends something else flying, a statue. I’ve never seen him like this. - Considering that his rebellious act of kindness is now threatening to become a sword of Damocles, hanging over those towards which he wanted to extend his kindness - simply because he’s been kept out of the loop (again)- Peeta’s anger is quite understandable

“Look, boy-” Haymitch begins. “Don’t bother, Haymitch. I know you had to choose one of us. And I’d have wanted it to be her. But this is something different. People are dead out there. More will follow unless we’re very good.” - Peeta doesn’t really care if it’s just his life on the line, but if other people’s lives are at risk? He takes no shit (it’s admirable in one way and deeply concerning in another); also, Peeta is right - while there still is a game to play, it’s not the Games, so different circumstances and rules apply

“From now on, you’ll be fully informed,” Haymitch promises. “I better be,” says Peeta. - Peeta generally is a very cooperative fellow, but don’t ever think he can’t be forceful and stand his ground when it matters!

“Did you choose me, Haymitch?” I ask. “Yeah,” he says. “Why? You like him better,” I say. “That’s true. But remember, until they changed the rules, I could only hope to get one of you out of there alive,” he says. “I thought since he was determined to protect you, well, between the three of us, we might be able to bring you home.” “Oh,” is all I can think to say. - This is such a quiet, sweet moment and also shows that Katniss, Haymitch and Peeta have been some sort of team from the start (also, in their team effort they actually managed to get the both of them back home!)

Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. The warning, the shootings, the recognition that I may have set something of great consequence in motion. The whole thing is so improbable. And it would be one thing if I had planned to stir things up, but given the circumstances... how on earth did I cause so much trouble? - Lol, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit here, Katniss ;) Frankly, the Capitol has been the one to create this powder-keg they are sitting on in the first place - all it needed was a little spark... All these injustices, the humilitation, the pain inflicted... it’s like an elastic rubber band that’s been stretched and stretched - until it snaps

“I’m something of an expert in architectural design, you know?” “Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” says Portia before the pause gets too long. - Bless Portia’s heart, making sure they avoid that awkward silence 😂

Effie looks so distressed that I spontaneously give her a hug. “That’s awful, Effie. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the dinner at all. At least until they’ve apologized.” - Aww, Katniss doing something nice for Effie!😊

Peeta and I join hands. “Haymitch says I was wrong to yell at you. You were only operating under his instructions,” says Peeta. “And it isn’t as if I haven’t kept things from you in the past.” - Peeta sorta apologizing, even acknowledging that he also had kept secrets from Katniss? We love to see it👍 - [...] “I think I broke a few things myself after that interview.” “Just an urn,” he says. - Peetaaa... stop diminishing your own physical injuries! Good thing that Katniss won’t let him: - “And your hands. There’s no point to it anymore though, is there? Not being straight with each other?” I say. “No point,” says Peeta. - Gasp! Honest, open communication as a good basis for a successful relationship? It’s more likely than you think!

“Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?” I’m so startled I answer. “Yes.” With all that has happened today, has that question actually been preying on him? - Peeta, you sly dog! Your priorities 😂

Some crowds have the weary-cattle feel that I know District 12 usually projects at the victors’ ceremonies. But in others - particularly 8, 4, and 3 - there is genuine elation in the faces of the people at the sight of us, and under the elation, fury. - I do think that it’s interesting how D4 is one of the districts being elated to see Peeta + Katniss and displaying such fury, despite being a Career district; just goes to show that, just because their odds are better at winning the Games, doesn’t have to make them more simpatico with the Capitol’s cruelty... (Considering how Finnick knows how to perform CPR, it’s highly likely that people in D4 are also used to awful and precarious working + living situations... maybe that’s exactly why they generally are so robust and do well in the Games; and maybe they are simply not that above joining the other Careers as long as it improves their chances of survival, like Katniss or Thresh had been... worked for a while for Peeta, too)

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. [...] Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms. - 😭 Also: Very telling how Capitolite Effie just throws pills at the problem (with the best of intentions, I’m sure), which is an immediate, unpersonal, and superficial solution at best, whereas Peeta holding Katniss, offering comfort, understanding, a sense of safety, and human connection is so much more personal, intimate, and effective (for both of them!)

I personally killed the girl, Glimmer, and the boy from District 1. As I try to avoid looking at his family, I learn that his name was Marvel. How did I never know that? - You know why, Katniss -  I suppose that before the Games I didn’t pay attention and afterward I didn’t want to know. - Still, not knowing his name didn’t stop you from humanizing him, Katniss, and that’s important, too

Whatever we do seems too little, too late. Back in our old quarters in the Training Center, I’m the one who suggests the public marriage proposal. Peeta agrees to do it but then disappears to his room for a long time. Haymitch tells me to leave him alone. “I thought he wanted it, anyway,” I say. “Not like this,” Haymitch says. “He wanted it to be real.” - Come on, Katniss, don’t be so callous; Peeta’s just as much of a prisoner here as you! Also, it’s all about being real or not real with these two, isn’t it?

Chapter 6

... you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here’s what’s strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. [...] That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. - Honestly, I think it was pretty short-sighted of Snow to let Katniss know so clearly that she didn’t succeed in her task; she did her utmost and it wasn’t enough - might as well fling caution to the wind now. All bets are off. If there had been still some small chance she could have ‘made things right’, she probably would have been trying harder to comply to his expectations. (I’m sure Snow thought the upcoming implementations of his stricter regime would be enough to keep Katniss in check, but pride comes before a fall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

It’s essential to get back to District 12, because the main part of any plan will include my mother and sister, Gale and his family. And Peeta, If I can get him to come with us. I add Haymitch to the list. - For such a ‘loner’, Katniss sure has a lot of people that are important to her... And how ironic that Peeta, who she isn’t sure she’ll be able to convince in following her will be a much more willing participant that Gale, who Katniss is pretty much banking on joining her

“You’ll probably have to pass a new law,” I say with a giggle. “If that’s what it takes,” says the president with conspiratorial good humor. Oh the fun we two have together. - The dynamic between Snow and Katniss is so strange; despite the obvious antagonism there is definitely some vibe of interacting with each other at eye level and it’s weird (Sidenote: Is there any law in Panem preventing minors from marrying?)

“I want to taste everything in the room, “ I tell Peeta. [...] “Then you’d better pace yourself,” he says. “Okay, not more than one bite of each dish,” I say. My resolve is almost immediately broken at the first table, which has twenty or so soups - couldn’t have happened to me; I hate soup (like, thick soups I maaaybe can get behind, but clear soup/broth is just flavored water to me, no thanks - then again, I’m a picky eater)

Peeta and I make no effort to find company but are constantly sought out. We are what no one wants to miss at the party. I act delighted, but I have zero interest in these Capitol people. They are only distractions from the food. - Well isn’t that a mood for every social gathering ever (one person I enjoy talking to and lots of food I like? Perfect.)

I pick up a small roasted bird, bite into it, and my tongue floods with orange sauce. Delicious. But I make Peeta eat the remainder because I want to keep tasting things - Katniss seems to like the combination of meat and fruit, huh? (the lamb and plums, now bird and orange sauce) Personally, it’s a combination that’s on thin ice for me; there are only a few dishes with that component I actually like and it took me forever to tolerate them (I don’t know if it’s the texture or the taste, but something makes me apprehensive about it); anyway, Katniss making Peeta eat the rest is such a casual, couple-y thing to do (or at least something you do with someone you feel very comfortable with, I think)

Peeta looks at the glass again and puts it together. “You mean this will make me puke?” My prep team laughs hysterically. “Of course, so you can keep eating,” says Octavia. “I’ve been in there twice already. Everyone does it, or else how would you have any fun at a feast?” I’m speechless, staring at the pretty little glasses and all they imply. - Oh boy, I have a lot of thoughts on this part: A) I just noticed how this is the second delicate/fancy glass/drink that’s bringing about a jarring revelation: first that orange juice with the frilly straw in THG, now these tiny wine-stemmed glasses, B) “Everyone does it” + “how else would you have fun?” are the shittiest reasons I’ve ever heard at a party for doing something stupid you probably don’t want to do (I’m having flashbacks to all the times I had people trying to pressure me into drinking alcohol as a teen - it was even legal, btw - although I insisted that I didn’t like the taste (which I still don’t, to this day); it was tiresome 😑), C) “everyone does it” - the people in the Capitol must have some messed up teeth if that’s a regular occurence (sure, they probably bleach their teeth all the time, but also... they’d really need to, D) the obvious: how effed up that they just puke to stuff in more food when in the districts people literally are dying from starvation?! (and yeah, unequal distribution of resources sadly isn’t just a thing in Panem, I know... but there is something about actively purging yourself just for funsies that’s just extra, well, sick)

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents cannot give. More food. - God, how awful! How powerless they must feel 😟

And here in the Capitol they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and again. Not from some illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. - Ooh, I’ve never noticed before how this passage not only recognizes physical reasons for purging, but also mental reasons! Wouldn’t have necessarily expected Katniss to acknowledge eating disorders like that, tbh... She has become a lot more cognizant and sensitive when mental health issues are concerned

One day when I dropped by to give Hazelle the game, Vick was home sick with a bad cough [...] he still spent about fifteen minutes talking about how they’d opened a can of corn syrup from Parcel Day and each had a spoonful on bread and were going to maybe have more later in the week. How Hazelle had said he could have a bit in a cup of tea to soothe his cough, but he wouldln’t feel right unless the others had some, too. - Aww, Vick is such a sweetheart! Hazelle is raising her kids right!

“Peeta, they bring us here to fight to the death for their entertainment,”I say. “Really, this is nothing by comparison.” “I know. I know that. It’s just sometimes I can’t stand it anymore. To the point where... I’m not sure what I’ll do.” He pauses, then whispers, “Maybe we were wrong, Katniss.” “About what?” I ask. “About trying to subdue things in the districts,” he says. - Peeta’s rebellious nature coming through again!

“Sorry,” he says. He should be. This is no place to be voicing such thoughts. “Save it for home,” I tell him. - I know Katniss means D12, but her phrasing of “home” evokes a more domestic, couple-y connotation again 😊

I don’t want to dance with Plutarch Heavensbee. I don’t want to feel his hands, one resting against mine, one on my hip. I’m not used to being touched, except by Peeta or my family, and I rank Gamemakers somewhere below maggots in terms of creatures I want in contact with my skin. - It’s telling that, while Katniss is not big on being touched aside from her family (does that include Gale? probably? although they hadn’t even really hugged until Katniss had been reaped, so... I dunno), she’s totally fine with Peeta touching her (more than that: remember how good she felt holding his hand again in Ch.4 and how she’s feeling safe in his arms when they are sharing a bed), it says a lot about how comfortable she feels around him

Plutarch steps back and pulls out a gold watch on a chain from a vest pocket. He flips open the lid, sees the time, and frowns. “I’ll have to be going soon.” He turns the watch so I can see the face. “It starts at midnight.” - Honestly, this very subtle hint/foreshadowing of the clock setup of the Quarter Quell arena is simply brilliant! And also, midnight is going to become an important point in time as well from here on out (lightning tree, in the hanging tree song, saving Peeta and the others from the Training Center in the Capitol)

It’s another mockingjay. Exactly like the pin on my dress. Only this one disappears. He snaps the watch closed. “That’s very pretty,” I say. “Oh, it’s more than pretty. It’s one of a kind,” he says. - The disappearing mockingjay on the clock is interesting because A) Plutarch can’t really be flaunting the symbol of rebellion as Head Gamemaker, duh, but also B) the clock arena will be the place where the Mockingjay will disappear (until the rebellion will be able to use her for their cause); and that last comment by Plutarch clearly is aimed at the Mockingjay (Katniss) herself

When I open my eyes, it’s early afternoon. My head rests on Peeta’s arm. I don’t remember him coming in last night. - Okay, Katniss must feel hella safe and used to Peeta joining her in her bed, because apparently she didn’t even wake up when he did, like... I’m a fairly heavy sleeper, but I can’t imagine sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t jerk awake if someone crawled into my bed while I was snoozing

“No nightmare,” he says. “What?” I ask. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night,” he says. He’s right. For the first time in ages I’ve slept through the night. - Telling how the first time Katniss sleeps through the night is after Snow let her know her performance wasn’t enough; she’s must have been so tense and on edge, desperately trying to calm down the districts and convince Snow, that she hadn’t been able to sleep properly, aside from the obvious sleeping issues she’d have from the PTSD (I’m often that way before an important exam - especially if it’s an oral exam; I get tense just thinking about it 😓)

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay though the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived,” I say. “But I felt happy.” - Interesting how in Katniss’s dream, the mockingjay is Rue - lending further credence to the hypothesis that maybe Rue was originally meant to be the Mockingjay (would make Plutarch’s comment of the mockingjay being “one of a kind” a bit more hypocritical/exaggerated/dramatized, which still fits with his flair for propaganda/showmanship... and ultimately, Katniss as the Mockingjay was unique, but that doesn’t mean that the rebellion couldn’t have made someone else their symbol if they needed to); also, Peeta brushing Katniss’s hair off her forehead is so sweet and intimate 😊

After I got home, we [Madge and I] started spending time together. [...] It was a little awkward at first because we didn’t know what to do. Other girls our age, I’ve heard them talking about boys, or other girls, or clothes. Madge and I aren’t gossipy and clothes bore me to tears. But after a few false starts, I realized she was dying to go into the woods, so I’ve taken her a couple of times and showed her how to shoot. She’s trying to teach me the piano, but mostly I like to listen to her play. - Honestly? I’d love to read a fanfic about Katniss and Madge figuring out their friendship (let me know if there already are some!); it’s cute how they end up including each other in their hobbies 😊 Ah, the classic “I’m/We’re not like other girls”, which often is especially prevalent during your teen years (I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been gulty of this in my past 😅)... Katniss might actually would have benefited from talking with Madge about her boys’ troubles, though... And it’s so funny how Katniss admits that she has no interest in clothes, despite it being her supposed “talent”, while she also admits that she does admire Cinna’s work

... there’s a mob scene. The square’s packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks, throwing bricks. Building burn. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random. I’ve never seen anything like it - I... I have. At least on tv... In different places, at different times, but... yeah...

[sisterofsomeone]

花吐き病 - Part 1 – The Beginnings of Cherry Blossom

- Hajime Iwaizumi x Fem!Reader

- Masterlist

- Warnings: Angst, minor character death, swearing,

- Summary: Iwaizumi and Oikawa had been your friends since childhood. Sure you had feelings for Iwa-chan, but they wouldn't be the death of you, right?

———————

I'm not her. I wish I were, maybe then it wouldn't be so painful.

The sky was grey, overcast, and dreary as you stared across the courtyard. You saw some of your friends huddled under the bike shed to avoid the rain, but you were already caught right in the middle of the downpour. It was cold, a chill running through you as you trudged towards the entrance of your school, white shirt almost completely transparent now. This is exactly what you needed on your first day of senior year.

"Oi y/n, you're gonna get sick." He said throwing his jacket over your shaking shoulders and pulling you under his umbrella. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" You nodded silently. Words were always hard when it came to him. You dared to look up at him, his eyes cold and jaw tight. You thought he was mad until a smirk crawled across his face. "Enjoying the view?" You flushed, darting your eyes back to the ground while he chuckled softly above you. His hand guided you forwards as your legs grew still next to him. “Hurry it or I’ll leave you out here in the rain.” He barked out, causing you to rush to be beside him again. He was warm and smelled of cinnamon and birthday cake. All your friends would snicker whenever you said something like that, but it was true to you, the only way to describe Iwaizumi correctly, as abstract as it was. His hair was dark like the bark of an oak tree, hands calloused but firm against your back, pushing you ever forwards. You had kissed him once at a party in middle school. His lips were soft, movements strong at first before the boys started to poke fun at the two of you. He grew hesitant and eventually pulled away, leaving you stunned and flustered. It was a stupid dare he said as he wiped his mouth and smiled at the boys, but to you it meant everything. He tasted of sunlight and summer; a warm, buzzing feeling spreading through your chest, intoxicating you. Now you know, that was when it took root.

Iwaizumi ushered you to the nurse’s office, telling her you had been caught in the dreadful rain and she took you in without hesitation. Iwaizumi left with a silent nod in your direction as the nurse instructed you to undress and swap into some dry clothes, she had some spare and laid them on the bed for you before pulling the curtains shut. You did as you were told, undressing, and handing her your wet clothes. His jacket hung loosely across the back of the chair you had placed it on, but you enjoyed it being there. Iwaizumi always looked after you, and had done so ever since your mother passed three years ago, but he was a good friend to you even before all that. Your father had told you about your mother’s death over dinner, rather callously, saying that she had not been strong enough to survive the operation. You excused yourself from the table and ran all the way to Iwaizumi's house without shedding a single tear. His father opened the door, welcoming you in with a smile and shouting for Iwaizumi to come down and say hello. You silently followed him up the stairs, the news hadn’t reached them yet, so he was absentmindedly mumbling about some new move he learnt at practise that day. He kicked his bedroom door open and motioned for you to sit down. His room was messy, clothes scattered around the floor and dirty plates stacked on his desk. He caught your eyes and pulled you into his chest. “What’s wrong? You’re not okay.” That’s when you broke down, allowing yourself to finally cry for your loss. You felt all that pain, and he was right there with you through it all.

“Hey? You okay darling?” You blinked, not realising you’d been staring at the jacket.

“Y-yeah, just cold.” The nurse nodded and closed the curtain again to give you your privacy back while she went to turn up the radiator. You pulled the scratchy grey jumper over your head and shimmied into the black skirt she’d left on the bed for you before finally putting his jacket back on your shoulders. It was warm, Iwaizumi had brought it when you two went shopping a year ago, saying he looked like a shoujo-romance-manga-guy. You’d scoffed at the time, but you couldn’t help the fluttering of your heart. Your chest was aching as you watched him observe himself in the changing room mirrors, seeing him fix his hair and smile stupidly at his reflection. He was beaming when you shot him a weak smile back, exclaiming that this was the jacket he was gonna buy. You’d tried to remind him that it was more than he had said he’d wanted to spend but he dismissed you by saying that if you liked it, it was worth the extra money.

“Thank you for the spare uniform, I’m gonna head to class now. I’ll be back for my clothes at the end of the day if they’re not dry beforehand.”

“Okay darling, just be careful now, and don’t go back out into the rain without an umbrella!” She was smiling at you, but her tone was laced with worry as you rushed out of the little office.

The class had begun as you pulled back the door.

“Nice to finally see you today.”

“Sorry I’m late-“

“Miss, Iwa-chan did tell you that he took y/n to the nurse’s office.” Oikawa said as he waved at you. You smiled softly at him, and the teacher muttered something about rudeness or tardiness. You took no mind as you rushed to your seat beside the setter.

“So, see-through shirt trick hey?” He nudged you with his elbow and you flicked his forehead.

“More like I didn’t look at the weather forecast and left my umbrella and coat at home today. No trick. I don’t even think there is a trick that would get him to notice me.” You dropped your head onto your desk and heard a sigh leave the boy next to you.

“You never know until you try!” His sing-song lilt always annoyed the hell out of you.

“I can’t even speak to him, let alone pull off flirting with him.” You sneered back as Oikawa chuckled softly beside you.

“Well, you better figure it out fast. I hear she’s gonna confess to him today under the cherry blossom tree in the school garden.” The emphasis was apparent, and the word dripped with disdain as it left his lips. Oikawa hated Aoi almost as much as you did, but the two of you seemed to be the only one’s immune to her charms – sadly, that included Iwaizumi.

“It’s only a rumour, so you may be lucky. But I wouldn’t count on it sadly.” You lifted your head to meet his gaze. He was staring at you so intently, looking for any sign of distress in your face, but he didn’t find any. You were good at hiding your feelings.

“Good for her, I just hope she’s good to him.” You forced a smile, sitting up and finally paying attention to the teacher and the grammar lesson she was attempting to teach.

Oikawa continued to try to get your attention all morning, but you ignored him, opting to throw yourself into boring lesson after boring lesson, pretending to be okay with the idea of Iwaizumi falling for anyone but you. Your chest ached, lungs burnt, but you just pushed all the pain down and faked a smile, answering any questions thrown your way easily. He threw paper at you; pens poked your sides making you yelp and have to fake sneezes to cover the sounds.

“Fucking stop it Toru.”

“Oh, first name? I must be in trouble.” He smirked, throwing more paper your way while the teacher’s back was turned.

“You are. I’m so gonna kill you for this.”

“Then admit you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m not upset. Iwa-chan isn’t mine to be possessive over.” Your chest ached at this admission, your body reacting to the idea of losing something that was never quite yours to begin with. Oikawa raised his eyebrow at you quizzically.

“That’s such a lie.”

“No, it’s not. He is free to date whoever he wants.” Your chest didn’t seem to agree, the tightness growing and your lungs burning. “And so am I.” You beamed at the setter, seemingly unfazed but he didn’t buy it.

“Like you would date anyone else.”

“I could!”

“Could not.”

“Could so!”

“Could-“ There was a loud bang as the board eraser collided with Oikawa’s shoulder, covering you both in a cloud of chalk dust. You recoiled, spluttering, and gasping for air.

“If you two are quite finished arguing in my lesson!” The teacher shouted. Oikawa protested for a moment, before the threat of another eraser being thrown at his head this time shut him up for good. Finally, some peace and quiet before lunch.

Oikawa’s girls had always hated you, but now they were easily planning your death, figuring out how to make it look like an accident. He had followed you at the start of lunch like a lost puppy. You headed to your usual area bento in hand, towards the bench beside the volleyball gym, and when you went to sit down he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap. That’s how you ended up like this, with Iwaizumi looking very uncomfortable sitting next to you two.

“So, this is new.”

“Oh, this? Nah, you just never see this side of y/n.” Oikawa teased, wiggling his eyebrows as he placed his hands on your hips. You yelped and glared at the brunette underneath you.

“O-Oikawa…” You stuttered out, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. You turned to look at him, your face red and body shaking softly.

“Aww y/n! Don’t be like that! You love sitting on my lap, don’t you? You love it when we’re alone at least.” Oikawa purred into your ear, but obviously loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

“Okay shitty-kawa, leave the poor girl alone.” He said, wrapping his hand around your arm and pulling you off of the brunette and onto the bench beside him.

“Aw, you’re such a buzz kill.” Oikawa poked his tongue out, pulling his eyelid as well and Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up dipshit.” He said laughing softly. It was a nice noise.

“You would think after ten years of us, she’d get bored you know?”

“Oh yeah, all your other girls ran off within a few months max.” Oikawa threw a bit of his omelette at Iwaizumi, narrowly missing his friend. They shared a laugh across you, the sounds already calming you.

“You’d think you’d stop getting handsy with y/n after she so obviously turned you down last year.” Iwaizumi teased.

“Hey! She didn’t turn me down. We agreed we would be better as friends – mutually!” Oikawa pouted as you stifled a giggle. Iwaizumi glanced down at you, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you fully relaxed again. This was how you loved spending time with the two of them, just joking around and having fun. It wasn’t long before you were all separated again and had to rush off to class for the afternoon. But soon you’d be able to watch them practise after school like always, and that was the highlight of your day.

He was late. Iwaizumi was never late, but here it was 20 minutes into practice, and he wasn’t there. You had checked the changing rooms, running field, even his classrooms, but he wasn’t anywhere. You walked slowly back to the gym through the gardens, thinking about calling him, when you heard it.

“I like you. I like like you, Iwaizumi.” Silence. You hid behind the stone wall in the garden, just out of sight of the pair.

“Aoi I-“

“You don’t need to answer me now, just tell me there’s no one else.”

“Look, I’ve told you I’m single-“

“But you haven’t told me if there’s anyone you like yet, Iwa-chan.” It sounded wrong coming from her, the nickname sickly sweet, almost heavy in your ears.

“Aoi, -“

“Tell me there’s a chance for me Iwa.” You could almost hear the pathetic fluttering of her eyelashes from your hiding place. He would never.

“There’s a chance. But I want to get to know you first, okay?”

That’s when you felt it for the first time. The clawing at the back of your throat. You rushed to the bathroom, gasping, and struggling for air as your chest tightened. Throwing open the bathroom stall you retched into the toilet bowl, eyes watering and body shivering. Then you saw them through the tears streaming down your cheeks. Cherry blossoms were lying in the toilet bowl. You coughed and spluttered, bringing up more of the pale pink petals. They fluttered momentarily, before hitting the water and settling. That’s when you knew you couldn’t ever love anyone else, and you couldn’t survive without Iwaizumi loving you back.

- Tags: @haikyuu-cafe @sassyglassesbunny @cuddlesslut @daphnxy @bakugouswh0r3 @playboygeniusphilanthropist

[obsidiancreates]

The Wrong Realization (But A Welcome One)

4,012 words long

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

Jonah wakes up with a headache like he’s got a hangover. He groans, putting his arm over his eyes as the dim light of his bedroom tries to burn out his retinas. Even with all of his thickest curtains closed and fastened together, the sunlight is still too harsh. Must be the way it’s reflecting off the snow.

He falls out of bed more so than gets out of bed, and lays on the floor for a moment. He reaches up to his nightstand and manages to pull down his phone, which bonks him on the temple on it’s way down. That gets him to wake up, with a shout and a dash of fight-or-flight response.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. He doesn’t even feel very rested! Granted, he did stay up most of the night listening to a new podcast he discovered... fascinating stuff, wonderful deep-dives into mythologies and legends from all over the world. Something a little lighter to relax to than his usual political commentary go-tos.

He stands up, and scrolls through his playlist until he finds a good morning podcast. He heads into the bathroom, ready to grapple with his hair to get it nice and presentable-

He looks into the mirror and freezes up. His hair is perfect. Exactly how he always strives to get it to look, and always falls just one stray strand short of. But now? Not a flyaway in sight.

“I could have sworn I took a shower,” he mumbles to himself. Maybe he just forgot to use shampoo? No, he would never. Maybe too much conditioner, then. But he’s always so careful not to overuse...

“I guess it saves time,” he says aloud. “No looking a gift horse in the mouth.” He picks up his toothbrush and gets to scrubbing, but pauses when he feels something stringy in his mouth.

He spits out the toothpaste foam, expecting a hair.

Instead, it’s a scraping of plastic from his toothbrush, and several bristles.

He stares for a moment, and then opens his mouth. Does he have something completely alarming stuck in his teeth? Did he somehow eat something metal?

... No, not as far as he can see. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Absolutely nothing. Completely fine.

On an unrelated note, the two little cuts in his lower lip that are perfectly aligned with his canines are starting to sting from the mint, so he hurries up and finishes brushing his teeth.

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The sun blinds him as he drives to work, and he has to manage mostly by listening to the traffic around him (which is absurdly loud today, he can hear it with his windows rolled up).

And the sunlight is harsh on his skin, too. Does he need to invest in better sunscreen? Maybe he should revisit that article he read about SPF effectiveness and how to choose the best one...

He gets into the parking lot and parks his car. He opens the door, and promptly slams it shut again with a yelp. His hands didn’t just feel burnt, it did burn!

Definitely needs to up his SPF! And research sudden sunlight sensitivity... his hand is bright pink.

He sits in the car for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. And then there’s a knock on his window. He startles, but relaxes when he sees it’s just Glenn. He rolls his window down just a bit. “Um, hi. Good-good morning, I mean.”

“Heyyyy, Jonah,” Glenn says with a smile. “So, um, I noticed you’re stuck in your car?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, no, I just um. Well you see I-I, um-”

“Need a hand?” Glenn’s smile is a bit strained, for some reason. “Because of the sun?”

“... Well I mean if-if you’re offering then it would be... rude to say no...”

Glenn opens up an umbrella, making Jonah shout in surprise. “Where did that-”

“Come on in under the shade!”

Jonah hesitates a moment, put off by Glenn’s... odd, energy. But he can’t stay in his car forever, so he gets out and walks in with Glenn under the safety of the umbrella.

“Thanks,” he says when they get inside. “I just um, I need to update my sunscreen, you know? And I just didn’t want to risk... my skin...”

“No, no, I completely get it,” Glenn assures. “The warm, life-giving rays of the sun can be very harsh sometimes!”

“... Y-yeah. Yeah.”

“Hey, um, Jerusha and I got you a gift, actually. She was so upset by the whole attack thing yesterday-”

“Oh, you guys didn't have to get me something-”

“Well, we wanted to, so um, here!”

Glenn hands Jonah a very, very wide-brimmed hat. There’s a little bat needle-pointed onto the sides. 

“Oh! Wow! Um, it’s... so big!”

“Maybe it’ll help until you update your sunscreen?” Glenn sounds hopeful. Too hopeful for Jonah to turn down. And... it would be functional, at least...

“Yes! Yes, I think this’ll be great for that, um, thank you! Thank you both, send Jerusha my-my thanks. For this. I can um, see she put some effort into customizing it! Just-just out of curiosity... why a bat?”

“Oh, well um, because of your situation.”

“... Situation, I don’t-”

“You know. The reason you burned?”

“... I still don’t understand-”

“HEYYYY, GUYS!” Amy butts in quite enthusiastically. “How’s it going this morning?”

“Oh, good!” Glenn says with a smile and a nod. “I was just giving Jonah this hat Jerusha made for him, because of his whole condition about being a vam-”

“OH HEY, Glenn, I actually really need your help with something!”

“Really?”

“Yes! Come over here, with me, to... softlines!”

“Oh, okay. I’ll talk with you later, Jonah!”

“Okay! Buh-”

Amy drags Glenn away, leaving Jonah with his hand up in an unfinished wave.

“... Bye. I-I was saying... bye.”

Jonah looks at the hat, and heads off to the breakroom.

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

“So does Jonah have them?” Cheyenne is saying when Jonah enters the room.

“I mean, he looked like he did when he was chasing that lady-”

“Do I have what?”

Mateo and Cheyenne startle. “Oh, Jonah! We didn’t see you there! You were like... really, quiet,” Cheyenne says with a slightly strained smile.

“Yeah. So... sneaky.” Mateo looks similarly stressed.

“Well I, I did just get new ultra-soft shoes, very comfortable but I’m not sure about the long-term arch support... but um, what do I have?”

“Um... standards, for your fashion. Sometimes you have them, sometimes you don’t... usually only when you’re chasing, after... someone to flirt with.”

“Oh. ... You-you thought I was trying to flirt with that woman, last night?”

Cheyenne shrugs. “You did literally chase her into the parking lot.”

“I-I guess I did. But I wasn’t attracted to her I mean, I wasn’t attracted to any customers yesterday, even though there were a few good looking ones, that made me laugh... but-but I’m not- I mean, I wasn’t flirting with anyone-”

Jonah babbles on for a good five minutes before Glenn finally comes in and starts the meeting.

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Jonah sighs and rubs his eyes as he mops up a puddle of... it’s either slushie vomit or watered-down blood (though he’s leaning towards slushie vomit, something in him just says it definitely isn’t blood).

He leans against the mop and closes his eyes for a moment. So tired... he felt okay this morning, but as the day creeps on he feels less and less awake...

“Excuse me?”

Jonah startles, yelping and dropping the mop. The customer jumps back as the mop drops.

“I am so sorry!” Jonah exclaims. “I um, I-I think I feel asleep, um, how can I-”

Jonah pauses, at a loss for words.

The customer, a man around Jonah’s age, looks concerned. “You alright, man?”

“Huh?” Jonah’s face feels hot (the first bit of warmth he’s felt in two days). “Oh, um, I-I just, that was very unprofessional of me.”

The customer shrugs. “It’s a Cloud 9, professional isn’t really expected.”

Jonah chuckles. He clears his throat. “So, um, how can-can I help you?”

“I was looking for the recycled paper towels?”

“Oh, yeah, um... let me help you find those. They’re only half recycled, though.”

“I know. But you do what you can on a budget, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Jonah laughs. He can’t stop looking at the guy’s face... why does he feel all jittery?

“Um, here we are. The closest Cloud 9 gets to activism.” Jonah sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. His mouth feels dry. Why is his mouth so dry? He licks his lips quickly while the customer isn’t looking.

“Better than I’ve been doing lately. Haven’t done a protest in months.”

“What kind of protests do you go to?” Why did he say that? He’s going to embarrass himself, oh no-

“Mostly wage labor ones, workers rights kind of things. Trying to get a union going at my job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well, I know unions don’t have a great reputation in a lot of places but-”

“No! I mean uh, I love unions! I-I’ve been wanting one here since I started working! Just uh, don’t tell my boss that, hah.”

The customer smiles at Jonah, and Jonah wonders if the floor actually fell out from under him or if that’s all in his head.

“Well, thanks for helping me find this. Maybe we can talk about helping each other’s unions efforts if I see you again.”

“Yeah!” Jonah flashes a bright smile. “Sure! Sounds-sounds great! Um was really nice to meet you!”

The customer smiles again and walks away, and Jonah needs to lean against the isle.

He lets out a heavy breath, wondering what the hell is going on and what he is feeling. He looks down the isle to see if anyone is watching him.

Mateo, Cheyenne, Marcus, and Dina are all staring.

Jonah quickly walks away, shame burning his cheeks. So they noticed something, too.

“-looked like he was about to eat him alive-”

He’s too busy being completely embarrassed by hearing them whisper that to wonder how he just heard it from three isles away.

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Jonah wakes up with a start as a cart rolls right over his leg. He shouts in pain and surprise, and then sighs at himself.

He peels the glue trap off of his face with a grimace. Cleaning the rat traps is a terrible time for his sudden and new case of what seems to be narcolepsy to strike. He sits up and rolls up his pant leg, expecting something nasty to greet him based on the crack he heard.

... Nothing. He frowns, and touches his leg. It doesn’t even sting.

“How did-”

“Jonah?”

Jonah looks up at Amy’s voice. She’s standing over him with a clipboard. “Oh, um... hi.”

“Hey. ... Why are you on the floor?”

“I was uh, cleaning the rat traps. And I... maybe fell asleep.”

“In the middle of the day?”

“... Yes...”

“Okay then. ... So um, I just... wanted to check in, for a minute. How’s it been going with customers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, have there been any... notable interactions, maybe, to throw an idea out there,” Amy says in her ‘I’m-hiding-the-real-reason-for-asking-this’ voice.

Jonah’s cheeks burn, and he’s sure he’s blushing. “They told you about that?”

“I... might’ve heard some gossip.”

“It-it was nothing, Amy. Really.”

“Are you sure? They said you keep looking at his neck-”

"Well I mean, he had a nice neck I-I guess but I was more looking at his face-”

“And that you licked your lips at him?”

“That-! My mouth was dry, and-and you know I hate chapped lips!”

“... And the hovering over him?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say hovering, more like just watching and... admiring... but that-that’s normal! I’ve been doing that since high school! A good ally normalizes these things, and-and when straight men, yeah, can admire other men in a-a completely! Normal way! Then it um, it helps... break down! The stereotypes!”

Amy looks... perplexed. She shakes her head. “Wait, what are we-”

“I mean, everyone does it, too! Like-like you! I’m sure you’ve looked at-at other woman, and admired their appearance, without feeling feelings for them, right?”

“Well, I guess, but- wait, Jonah, did you-”

“I mean we all wonder in college, right? But I don’t like, I mean there’s nothing wrong with liking both I just- I don’t, I wondered but I never-”

“Okay, um, this isn’t what I came over here to talk to you about-”

“Maybe there was a moment or two where I thought it might’ve been a thing but I-I never acted and if I did like both I would have acted on that, I think-”

“Okay! Um, you’re working through something right now, that is, not what I thought you were working through, so um, I’ll just check up on you later...”

Amy backs away as Jonah keeps recounting half-baked thoughts and unfinished sentences about his time in college and his roommates one friend who maybe had the best hair Jonah’s ever seen but their friendly hair-war was not flirting he swears...

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Jonah doesn’t chew the carrot, just rolls it in his teeth as he stares at the wall, lost in thought.

“... Not hungry for you lunch?” Sandra asks tentatively.

Jonah shakes his head, only half-hearing her.

“... Are you hungry for something else? Like... a customer?”

Jonah stops, and pulls the carrot out of his mouth. “You heard about that too?”

Sandra’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“You did! Did- does everyone know about that?”

“Well, it-it’s been sort of, floating around-”

Jonah groans, putting his head in his hands.

“... So um... are you?”

“What? No! No, I am not hungry for him, that’s objectifying. Not that I- I mean, I’m a straight man, I can’t, objectify another man, because that implies attraction. ... Unless I’m playing into toxic masculinity stereotypes by believing that...”

“I don’t think you have to worry about falling into masculinity stereotypes,” Carol pipes up from another table.

Jonah looks at her, annoyed. Her eyes widen and she looks away. 

Jonah puts his head back into his hands. “This is a nightmare...”

“For all of us,” Sandra whispers.

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Jonah sighs, slumping over onto the customer service counter. Garrett just looks at him, waiting for whatever Jonah has in store.

“... It normal for straight guys to admire other straight guys appearances, right?”

Garrett blinks. “Wow, just some casual conversation, huh?”

“Just- I mean, I know people are talking about-”

“You eyeing up that dude earlier like he was a steak?”

“... Yeah. That.”

“Dude, I don’t think this is the issue you should be focused on right now.”

“I know, I know! I’m in my thirties, I should have this figured out and be focusing on more important things-”

“Not what I meant, actually, I meant the superpowers-”

“-but I don’t know, I’ve never really had anyone point it out before! And-and now I can’t stop thinking like, am I? Attracted?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong if you are, right?”

“Yes, I do, I’ve been to a bunch of rallies and stuff.”

“Did you oogle dudes at those rallies?”

“NO! ... I mean I guess I observed and-and appreciated-”

“Yeah, you might just be on the gay spectrum, dude. I don’t know what else to tell you. Except that, uh, you just accidentally slapped my shoulder and you’re as cold as a bag of ice, so maybe that should be your crisis of the day.”

Jonah is staring off into space, rubbing his arm. It doesn’t seem like he heard Garrett at all. Garrett just sighs, and rolls away.

Jonah stays there, contemplating, for quite a while.

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“Okay, no more dancing around it.”

Jonah jerks awake. Again. God, why can’t he stay awake? ... Probably because he stayed up all night.

“No, Cheyenne.”

Jonah looks around. He peeks into the next isle, and then the next. 

... Where the hell are Cheyenne and Amy? He can hear them so clearly...

“He’s like, totally oblivious to it!”

“He’ll realize it eventually, okay? It’s not some truth bomb we can just drop on him.”

“My friends drop truth bombs on me all the time, and it just brings us closer. Best bitches don’t lie to their best bitches.”

“... Right. But, it’s kind of something for him to take the time to process.”

“What if he doesn’t? He’s just gonna like, wander around forever making excuses and being all nervous and confused.”

“Well... then we’ll give him a push. But for now let’s just... give him some space. Let him come to terms with it on his own.”

Jonah is startled out of his accidental eavesdropping by hearing himself sniffle. He quickly wipes his eyes, sticks his hands in his pockets, and hurries away. He still doesn’t know how he heard them, maybe some kind of really weird echo or sound tunnel. So he goes to the other side of the store entirely and finds the chattiest customer he can.

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He can feel Dina and Mateo staring at him as he restocks softlines. They whisper to each other, and he sighs and hangs his head. “You know, it makes it worse when you talk behind my back.”

Mateo yelps a little. He clears his throat and quickly composes himself. “Sorry. Uh, we were just talking about-”

“Yeah, no, I know. I’m... aware, okay? And I just would like to stop hearing about it for now, please.”

Mateo looks taken aback by the tiredness in Jonah’s voice, the... weary tone. Dina, however...

“Yeah, well, not exactly something to brush under the rug.”

“Why do you even care? It’s a me problem, okay?”

“Really? You think this doesn’t impact everyone?”

“How! Would it even do that?!”

“Well, let’s see! It made Mateo afraid, it made Amy all somber and worried about you, it made Glenn cry even more than usual-”

“It did?”

“He started a trust fund for your soul.”

“... Oh.”

Dina stops, her frown slowly becoming more confused. “You... didn’t realize that would happen?”

“... I don’t know, I guess I thought... thought he’d be more open-minded.”

“Glenn?”

Jonah takes a deep breath. Ugh, why’d it make his chest hurt? Why do his lungs feel like they don’t want the air? 

The next thing he knows he’s done with softlines (it felt like he got done in the blink of an eye) and walking away. He swallows down the lump in his throat, and the urge to comfort eat. God, he’s craving a snack now. Well, he has all day, but he’s been... a little distracted.

“Excuse me? Hello? Hey!”

Jonah looks up at the customer, still feeling drained and empty.

“Finally, god. How useless do they let you people be around here? I’m looking for the shock collars, my dog keeps licking me when I tell him not to.”

“... That’s a really, really shitty thing to do to your dog.” Jonah doesn’t really mean to say it, but he’s just sort of on autopilot now.

For some reason, the customer doesn’t reply. Just stiffens.

“Follow me. I’ll sort you right out.” Jonah thinks he smiles at them. But he can’t be sure, because at that moment he blacks out.

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Jonah shrugs his coat on, not looking anyone else in the eye as they all file out to clock out.

He waits until the very end, and clocks out last. Maybe he can avoid them all by waiting long enough?

Ugh, he can’t. He feels restless. Looking like another sleepless night already. Two in a row, great. Maybe that’s why he had that blackout. He still isn’t sure where the customer went, nor how he ended up in the No-Go zone of the Gardening Section...

Whatever. They were a jerk, anyway. Maybe he talked some sense into them? He did that during a blackout yesterday. Maybe it’s stress, then?

He keeps his head down as he thinks about it (trying to avoid some other, more introspective thoughts) and walks out.

He lifts his head as he exits the breakroom to find everyone standing in a group, smiling softly.

“Um... what’s going on?” He claps his hands behind his back. Please don’t let this be more teas-

“We know we’ve made you uncomfortable today,” Mateo pipes up. “And after talking to Garrett about your guys’s conversation, we realized we had the totally wrong idea about everything.”

Glenn steps forward and hugs Jonah. “I accept you no matter what,” he says firmly. “I would never start a fund to save your soul for being gay, that was a complete misunderstanding! You like whoever you like, Jonah!”

“And I didn’t mean to badger you,” Dina admits with her shoulder a little sunk. “I didn’t quite understand what you were going through in your head, and I made some assumptions. Wrong ones.”

“We all care about you, Jonah,” Amy says, prying Glenn off of the poor man. “Okay? We just want you to know that. Today we were being really, really shitty. But it won’t happen again.”

For the second time today, Jonah isn’t aware he’s crying until he hears himself sniffle.

“I just- I feel really, really stupid,” he admits, wiping his eyes with his palms. He laughs, not quite bitterly, but not happy. “I mean, I’m in my thirties. I-I had... so many obvious moments where I should have realized! How... oblivious, am I?”

There’s a bit of an awkward air to the group after that comment. But Amy hugs Jonah, and he feels a little... spark, in his chest. It’s nice. 

His chest has felt pretty heavy and empty all day.

“Everyone comes to terms with stuff at their own pace,” Amy says. “I lived in an unhappy marriage for years because I couldn’t accept the obvious. What matters is that you got to this point of realization, okay?”

Jonah hugs back. He thinks he feels Amy shiver, but he brushes past it. They pull apart, and Jonah sniffs and wipes his eyes again.

“And I um. I-I don’t think I’m... fully, gay,” he says slowly. He hesitates, mouth open, the words stuck. “I think... I think I’m Bi.”

There’s a moment of silence. He smiles a little, and stands a bit straighter. That feels... really right. “I think I’m Bi,” he repeats.

Sandra claps for a second, but no-one joins in. She lowers her hands slowly.

“Wow! Hah! That feels- wow! God, that feels good! Um,, what-what now, though?”

Garrett shrugs. “Flirt with some dudes? Some people in-between dudes and chicks? I don’t know, man, it’s your life.”

“Your long, long life,” Dina mutters to herself.

“Right! Oh, yeah, uh... that guy! From earlier! I-I think I want to see him again. Okay, uh, I’m going to go home, and-and maybe research some local protests he might be at-”

Everyone groans a little.

“Protester Jonah is the preachiest Jonah,” Garrett says, shaking his head.

“Can he still be preachy? Wouldn’t that hurt?” Cheyenne whispers to Glenn. 

Glenn shrugs. “I’ll ask Pastor Craig,” he whispers back.

Jonah doesn’t even notice. “Okay! I’m going to head home! I kinda feel like, I don’t know, like this is a whole new chapter in my life! Um, how do we- I mean how do- do we do a group hug, or-or maybe a high-five-”

“Or we just head home.”

“Yeah, no, Garrett’s right, head home. Let’s all head home!”

They all head out to their cars. Jonah gets into his, plops down into the drivers seat, and grins.

What a freeing realization! He doesn’t know how he missed it, it was all so obvious! 

Well, as far as he knows, there’s no other huge life-revelations waiting for him. He’s figured it all out, finally.

He starts driving home, humming along with the radio as the car next to him keeps pace, despite being in the faster lane. He never understands why people do that when the roads are empty. He chuckles to himself. Maybe he’ll realize that Life Mystery tomorrow.

What he doesn’t realize, neither when he gets home nor when he wakes the next morning, is that he never turned his own radio on.