#sorry for the dour topic

[cinghialefedele]

Sometimes I think about how writing Arrancar is NOT for the weak.

They're a Latino-adjacent minority race, and suffer many very real struggles, like the colonization from both Shinigami and Quincies alike. Often written off as a savage race of people, or animalistic monsters.

They're seen as stupid by other characters bc they don't have access to the education that living folks/Shinigami/Quincy have, bc Hueco Mundo is an isolated place and Hollows aren't allowed to go to the living world or Shinigami (and Quincies) will kill/eradicate/"cleanse" them if they do leave.

Their canon strength is only used to further the plot but only when they're antagonists, otherwise, they're cannon fodder for Shinigami and Quincies, too, which makes writing fights something I personally avoid, bc no one seems to take their power seriously anymore.

They're oversexualized by the wrong people, and it's shown in how often Arrancar writers get sexual anons compared to Quincy/Shinigami writers (this doesn't include my friends who ASK me before sending sexual asks, but on Tesla's account alone, we have seen multiple times over the years how some anons have really gone too far).

Idk...just, as an Afro-Latino myself, sometimes I really wince and grimace at the ways some people write about Arrancar, ic and ooc. The amount of times people have gotten upset w me for my Arrancar muses calling their muses colonizers or racists for legitimately racist or biased shit their muses have said or done just boggles my mind.

The Arrancar are clearly an oppressed minority, and in tybw they are ALSO experiencing an active genocide. They're entitled to call your muses out on their biased behaviors.

[mikeyelistsukasa]

Hanako,Sakura,Teru,Tsukasa & Kou seeing Darling‘s SH scars for the first time

Tw: self harm ofc,scars mentioning,basically dark topic

An:yeah it wasnt requested,i wrote that because…why not?Enjoy NOT PROOF READ

please do not self harm yourself. And im sorry to those who already done it or ho though it. Stay strong and don’t give up. Ily all

You were cleaning the bathroom today because yashiro was sick today and kou had to leave early

Not that you minded. You still have company and that is hanako and those little adorable mokke‘s.

This is a lot better than going home and just lying in bed doing nothing or homework.

„say s/o-chan/kun, how come you agreed to clean the bathroom? Most people would decline it you know, GASP don’t tell me you enjoy my company~“

„Oh sush will ya? Im doing this cause i feel bad for yashiro…but i suppose you are correct about me enjoying your company“

Hanako smirked, happy at the response you gave him

„Now tell me where is the sponge and gloves so that i can start cleaning the toilet“

„Oh!- its over there“

Hanako pointed to the left corner

„I’ll bring them to you :D“

Hanako decided to spare you these 5 steps and decided to bring them to you

But just as he turned around he saw you pulling your sleeves up so that you wont get your sweater dirty

You reached out your hand to take it but before hanako gave it to you he

He noticed scars?

This boy stared in shock at your wrist

„Uhm…hanako? Can you give me the gloves already?“

Suddenly you are being grabbed against dour wrist

„S-S/O YOUR ARM I- WHAT HAPPEND ?!! WHO DID THIS?!?? DOES IT STILL HURT??!!“

It took you a second to understand that he is talking about you scars

„O-oh! I totally forgot i had them“

You laughed a little seeing hanako‘s worried expression

„DONT LAUGH! YOU ARE HURT“

Just before he could go to grab some bandages you gently grabbed his hand

„Pft Hanako…im okay.“

You sat down with the ghost

„Im sorry for laughing i guess heh, your worried expression was pretty cute tho~“

Hanako flushed at that but you could still he his concerned look

„To answer your questions. I self harmed. I did that to myself. And no they do not hurt anymore because i quitted“

You smiled gently hoping it will relax the poor boy for a bit

But i think you only did worse

„Yourself??? Why??? Dont tell me someone forced you to do it to yourself. When did you quit???“

„Geez give me a break dude haha….i had a very hard time back then where i thought doing this is the only way to release stress.i had big family issues at that time but now everything is doing well.and to answer your last question i did about 2 years ago. So again do.not.worry“

Hanako blinked processing every word you just said

„I see“

Suddenly he stands up reaching out a pair of gloves

„Well ready to continue cleaning?~“

You and Sakura were sitting in the broadcasting room enjoying some cup of tea while reading books

„Hm“

„Is there something wrong?“

Sakura asked without taking her eyes from her book

„No not at all. I just got really invested in the book you gave me its very interesting i like it! Thank you by the way“

Sakura smiled to herself hearing that and went back to reading her book

Suddenly instead of reaching her cup, Sakura accidentally spilled her cup of tea with her elbow all over your pretty white gloves

„Ow ow ow ow ow hot hot hot!“

„Oh no dear- im sorry i didnt mean to do that, it was an accident“

You slowly take off the glove

„It’s alright don’t worry hah! Everyone doesn’t mistakes“

Sakura couldn’t help but let a slight sigh of relief hearing that

Thought that relaxed aura she just had disappeared right this instant after seeing your wrist

You stared at her in confusion

„…..S-sakura?“

Sakura stared at your wrist realising those are old scars and coming to a conclusion that you stopped this awful habit

…but just in case-

„You don’t do this anymore. Right?“

„Eh? Oh! Nono don’t worry i quitted. Im okay now :D“

„Understood“

Sakura grabbed gently both of your hands

„I’ll go get you new gloves“

„Oh don’t worry it’s okaaaaaaand she is already on her way„

“Hey s/o.”

You saw Teru sitting next to you

“How come you always wear a sweater under your uniform? I mean its summer. Aren’t you like sweating under there?”

“Ah hello Minamoto-kun. No im not sweating under it. And i wear it because its my favourite sweater! Ofc i wouldn’t wear it if it was that hot for me, i dont like it that much to the point i would sweat under it”

“Well nothing i can do. Also i told you, you can use my first name”

“Yeah yeah okay prince minamoto (¬_¬) “

Boink

“Whaaa what was that for T-T“

“you know exactly why :)“

“say... Wanna go out tomorrow like i dunno swimming? I heard it is going to be very hot tomorrow”

“Hmmm…yeah sure! Im free tomorrow so i don’t mind”

“Great! I’ll meet you there”

And just like that the bell rang and you went your ways

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢 | (• ◡•)|

You were waiting for teru at the beach for about 10 minutes already

“Phew, he sure didn’t lie about it being hot today”

You took off your favourite sweater and wrapped it around your torso(or hips idk)

“S/o!”

“Speak of the devil”

You turn around to see none other than Teru Minamoto

“Hey Min- Teru… well where do you wanna go first?”

“Hm how abouuutttt…some ice cream?”

“Sounds great to me!”

And just like that you guys went to get something to refresh youself

And while you two eat you remembered that you need to apply some sunscreen

“Teruuuuuu~”

“Yeah?”

After teru saw s/o holding the sunscreen he without any hesitation sat down allowing s/o to put suncream on him

“In return I get to put sunscreen on you correct?”

“Hmmmmmm alright alright”

After some minutes s/o finished and took off her clothes revealing herself only in a bikini

Teru slightly blushed after seeing s/o in such clothes but stayed respectful non then less

That is until he saw s/o do a ponytail revealing scars on their shoulders

“S-s/o…”

S/o sat down signalling teru to put the sunscreen on their back

“Teru? Is something wrong?”

“What…happened to your shoulders?”

“O-oh… well you see back when i was *insert younger self* i had fallen into pretty deep rabbit hole after loosing something/someone important to me….”

Teru couldn’t tell if you finished talking or want to add something more

“But…”

S/o shows their left/right arm to show more scars

Woah!How did he not notice them before?

“I was only getting more and more let down with each day. To the point i started to let out my anger on myself”

Teru looked at your expression seeing that you were uncomfortable with the topic so he put the cold sunscream without saying anything on your spine

„C-COLD you jerk!!!!“

„Haha. Im sorry we don’t want you get burned right?…Also promise to quit what you are d-„

„I already have don’t worry, these scars are like from 2-4 years ago“

„Oh! Well if you feel like doing it again let me know and I’ll be there gor you“

„pft You sure are cheesy today“

„Well what can i say? Im spending time with the most beautiful person right now“

„Oh my~“

„S/O S/O S/O S/O S/O S/O S/OOOOOOOOOO“

„Sigh what is it tsukasa.“

„Let’s go find some supernaturals to smash!“

„Heh yeah-no not today im very tired right now“

„Awh :(„

„Don’t give me that look“

:(((((

…

„Fine just not for too long…“

„YAAAAAY“

‚i don’t think we will find a supernatural anyway‘ i thought

When out of nowhere i heard some noise

But that was probably just my imagination

„OHHH A MOKKE“

„W-wait tsukasa don’t run away!….great now im alone“

Suddenly i heart the same noise again but this time it sounded like someone was…growling?

Just as i turned around i saw a big supernatural right behind me

I barely managed to dodge his attack but in the process it ripped off my sleeve

„TSUKASA??!?!?!NOW IS A GREAT TIME TO SMASH A SUPERNATURAL“

You closed your eyes ready to take the supernaturals attack

….but nothing came

In fact you heard some…unpleasant noises

You opened your eyes just to see tsukasa smashing the supernaturals face against the floor

You stood up glad that you didn’t get hurt and went up to tsukasa

„Hey…tsukasa thats enough“

„It hurted you…“

„Hm? No it didn’t don’t worry so lets just g-„

„Your arm“

You looked at your arm confused since you don’t feel any pain on it

„Oh! Tsukasa those scars are old its okay it wasn’t the supernatural that did it!“

„There are others that hurt you?…“

Tsukasa stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders

„Tell me who“

His dark aura made you kinda nervous

„Well how do i explain this to you…the one that caused these scars was me“

„S/o is hurting themselves???!!! (」°ロ°)」 „

„No! I mean- it was a long time ago…so do not worry i am not being hurt and im not hurting myself“

Tsukasa didnt quite fully understand why you did that in the first place but hearing you being safe is all that matterd to him.

„well then…LETS GO FIND MORE TO SMASH“

„NO-„

You and kou had teamed up at school to be partners in cooking class

‚They probably teamed up with me cuz they struggle with cooking‘

‚i teamed up with him to spend more time with him‘

Yeaaaaahhhh cooking sure was something

Honestly he didn’t even notice your scars right away after you rolled up your sleeves

He noticed it when he told you to cut the cucumber

„Ow! Stupid knife(╥_╥)“

„S-s/o are you okay?“

„Yeah just a tiny scar on my finger heh“

„Wait let me see- S/O YOUR AR-„

You quickly put your hand against his mouth

„is everything okay here you two?“

„Y-yes mr. (Teachers name)“

That was close

You shouted with a whispering voice

„What was that you idiot???we almost got in trouble“

„your arm its full of scars!!!!“

„Yeah??? So what“

„What do you mean so what???? I got concerned and-“

„You two! Out.now“

…

„.:…Promise to not tell nii-chan that i got into trouble“

„I promise-„

„OH RIGHT your ar-„

„Sighhhh you still on about that?“

„Ofc! What happened??? Who did this???How did it happen???Does it still hurt??? Should i bring anything????“

You let out a small laugh. You hate to admit it but kou being so worried is so cute to you

„Its alright kou. Those are my old selfharm scars“

„huh- but-but why would you hurt yourself?“

„Sometimes people do harm themselves. Some stay up late. Some stop eating and well…“

You looked at your wrist

„Some people harm themselves physically“

Kou grabbed both of your hands

„I might not have a right to say anything about this but please don’t ever do this again! You matter so much to me…the last thing i want is to see my friend/bf/gf/partner suffer while i dont do anything!!! I will do everything and anything you want just please…“

Hearing that made your eyes form up some tears

„D-don’t cry!!! Did i say something wrong??!!!?“

„Oh kou… i promise. Those are old ones so dont worry I’ve stopped…it’s just…hearing this i-„

You hugged Kou tightly which startled the exorcist

„Thank you“

…

Kou hugged you back tightly

„You’re welcome“

Hope i left you satisfied. Stay safe you all and don’t do stupid stuff

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Eight

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: A trip to the prefecture and the mechanic

Word Count - 3,870

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: Hey y’all, sorry for the long wait. We had family and friends visiting from our home country and hosting duty prevented me from sitting down at the computer and doing edits. I was able to continue writing on my phone so at least progress is being made even if y’all can’t see it yet. I also caught a case of Miguel O’Hara brain rot for a bit, so I was distracted for a few weeks with that. 

This chapter is dedicated to the Paris prefecture: fuck you, very much.

Chapter eight

Din can admit with full honesty that his well of patience is very deep. He has waited for bounties to appear while maintaining uncomfortable positions for hours. He has surveilled a safe house for over a week from a tree canopy to confirm a potential lead to a target. He has begrudgingly walked at the child’s pace for two kilometers when the kid refused, by a screeching tantrum, to be carried. But the verbal gymnastics of politics is something he has no patience for and he has to actively fight down the itch for violence.

The sterile prefecture was staffed with dour looking people doing the work with the least amount of effort in order to get through the mass of civilians who were just trying to file the right paperwork. Every person who goes up to a staff member is greeted with pursed lips and a look down the nose full of disdain.

It was even directed towards Eziriel who claimed in the landspeeder that she had dressed to her station with a draping blushing gold jumpsuit and a long caped navy blazer in hopes to possibly make the bureaucratic hoops easier to jump through, but it was apparently a useless tactic. It didn’t matter if the civilian was in rags or glittering jewels, they were a mere nuisance to everyone who worked there.

Din was glad to have the woman on his side, but even her disarming banter and warm smiles could not penetrate the lifeless pointy-eared Arkadian and his protocol droid who were in charge of Din’s case. He watches as Eziriel slips into a more diplomatic facade once she realizes her usual friendly route wasn’t going to get the results she wanted and he observes something he hasn’t seen in her before. True irritation.

Even in the handful of days he’s been around Eziriel, Din feels like he has a pretty good read on her. She is one of those who uses teasing humor to soften reality but also has the tendency to use it as a shield to deflect from true vulnerability. He doesn’t think many notice the deflection since she is always open and honest about any topic, but seeing the pensive look that came across her face when he asked why she was willing to hide things from her government for him, it suddenly registered that he has seen that look on her a handful of times previously: when she admitted to finding the sabotaging item and her worry of it; when he pushed beyond her deflection and to get her to accept his genuine thanks with the Jedi research; and when she admitted to him what the oath truly entailed. All these little vulnerable moments that she tried to hide with witty words finally came into focus once Din recognized the pattern, but the look she is currently presenting is none of the ones he has seen before.

She is expressive to a fault, so when all of her expressions drain from her face he takes note. He focuses in on the new tightness in the corner of her eyes while she forces a saccharine smile when the bored staff member, once again, sends her away with a wave of his hand at her questioning why they needed to fill out a physical form when they’ve already filled out the digital one. He’s seen her disguise her flustering amusement with faux irritation, but there was a true kindling of rage in her eyes when she filled out a handwritten physical copy of the same form she painstakingly filled out the night before. Seeing her fume and grumble under her breath was what caused Din to stop pacing like a caged beast and shift all his focus on observing her for the rest of the visa process.

He didn’t know if he fully liked the blazing fury that radiates off her ever-smiling facade, but admittedly, a dark part of him enjoys that focused rage. He will concede that he did miss the warm mischief her eyes usually held that was lost in favor of icy concentration, but when the third round of interviews gets too intrusive he watches as her normally friendly banter turns into scathing definitive statements that defends his clan of two and a fire burns in his gut.

He acknowledged when his concussion cleared that Eziriel is an objectively attractive woman. With her clever brain, witty tongue, and kind hands he could see how easily someone could be enchanted by her, but he was not one to be drawn into amorous attachments outside of carnal stress relief. Eziriel was meant to be a distant star in his time with her. Something in the dark night sky of his life that was a bright guiding beacon when he was thrown from his path; a star that shined so beautifully that he could admire from a distance in his memory when he was back on his trek and no longer lost; an astronomical body not meant for him to get any closer in exploration.

But then she puts on a vicious smile and fierce tone and defends his culture to the case officer when he tries to claim that they could not proceed without facial recognition, names, or at the very least a decrypted chain code, even though Arkadia doesn’t even use them. She was prepared for that and brings up a hundred year’s worth of data that held passage clearance case files where encrypted chain codes or alternate identifiers were used to adhere to culture differences, some of which were Mandalorian files Din noted.

That small shining star’s gravitational pull dragged him in to witness the might of its white-hot plasma and he doesn’t know if he has the strength to look away.

Kriff.

He nearly misses the resolution to their argument but is focused back at the defeated sigh of the case officer. He grumbles that doing it her way would take hours of paperwork, as if it hasn’t already taken hours already, and that it could be weeks before getting any approval.

“I am terribly sorry that you must do the bare minimum of your job description. My deepest condolences,” she says with that venomous inflection and that sickening sweet smile. “Here is an approval to move their case to the top of the stack at every turn. King Amarian’s royal seal and everything.”

She pulls a datapad out of her bag to add to the pile of other datapads and paperwork. Din didn’t need to be able to magically read emotions to see that the case officer is frustrated, regardless of how well he was trying to hide it. The case officer begrudgingly takes a hand and vocal print of Din as proof of identity. He then has his protocol droid collect everything and commands them back to the waiting room in order to wait for the temporary visas.

After a total of six hours they are finally walking back to where she parked the landspeeder. She tugs her blazer off as Din settles the kid into the back seat. As soon as she plants herself in the pilot seat and the doors close she buries her face into her blazer and lets out a ragged scream, startling the child and Din both. He feels amusement pull at his mouth when she pulls her head up and she is all wild copper curls and frazzled red faced, gone was the smiling stoic facade she has been presenting in the prefecture.

“Maker’s hairy balls,” she says and Din’s almost smile grows at the colorful language she has been holding back for hours. “I’ve always heard it was bad, that they always started every interaction with ‘it’s not possible’, but kriffing hell!” She slumps her form deep into the seat and rests her head against the headrest taking a moment to close her eyes.

“Thank the stars I had Princess Ziri on my side,” he quips and catches the corner of her lip quirk up at her nickname. Her head lolls to face him as the icy fire drains from her eyes and mirth starts to refill them once again, and it makes his chest alight with an ember of satisfaction to cause that reaction.

“Well, Princess Ziri is starving and so is the little laddie,” she says, sitting straight once more and glancing over her shoulder to smile at the kid in his little safety seat before patting Din on the unarmored part of his arm and pointing at his helmet. “I’d make you buy me a drink after all that bantha shit, but since I am oathbound to your wellbeing I can’t, in good conscience, make you pay. So let’s say you owe me a drink once my oath is fulfilled.”

“Done,” he says with a single nod of his head as she gives him a true smile filled with that teasing kindness that he has gotten used to in the last four days and begins pulling out of the parking garage. He doesn’t even bother to ask where she is taking them, he just sits and listens to her talk to his ward about all the types of desserts the restaurant she plans to take them has.

════════════════════════════════════

The small cozy restaurant at the edge of the city wasn’t too busy when they show up between the lunch and dinner rush, but the middle-aged owner makes it a point to exchange pleasantries with Eziriel and fondly talk to the child in between serving other tables. Din spends the lunch watching the child be spoiled by Eziriel who gives the boy a piece of each of the deserts she could get a sample of before Din has to stop her which earns him a pout from the pair. At the end of the meal Eziriel insists on a to-go bag of food and shoves it into Din’s arms before he could protest, claiming that if he can take a moment to eat he should.

Once they are back in the landspeeder she takes them out of the city and starts coasting next to the large lake heading towards the starport on the opposite end. With the gentle stringed music she had put on the kid is nearly instantly asleep and Din takes that quiet moment to ask a question he has been curious about for a few days.

“What would have happened if I refused to apply for the planetary visa?” he keeps his voice low enough not to wake the child and he watches her face cringe at the question.

“Then we would have probably had to detain you two,” she admits with a lowered voice.

“‘We’? You would have tried to detain me?” Din says with amusement at the mere thought of her small frame trying to take him in.

“No, no, no, ‘we’ as in Arkadia, not me personally. If you were not cooperative or receptive to my help I’d have been forced to call the Enforcers in,” she explains and from the few times he’s heard the word he assumes that the Enforcers are Arkadia’s military. “It would have been nothing personal, but the location of Arkadia must remain hidden from anyone who can’t be trusted. I hope you understand.”

“I’m not offended that you would have protected your people,” he replies honestly. “I am mildly surprised you didn’t call your military when I pointed my blaster at you, being royalty and all.”

“Twice,” she amends with a smirk.

“Twice,” he agrees at the number of times he’s drawn his blaster on her.

“Well, you started off pointing your blaster at me through your ship’s viewscreen. So that wasn’t a big threat.” Her smirk grows at the memory.

“I had a head injury,” Din grumbles and she chuckles at him.

“I, for one, am glad you were eventually agreeable and proved yourself trustworthy enough for me not to call the Enforcers, despite your ornery introduction,” she gives him that sincere look once again as they fall back into a comfortable silence with some soft melodic music coming from the speeder’s comms accompanying their trip around the lake.

After a peaceful drive through the wooded lakeside they arrive at an industrial part of the city where the starport was the primary focus of the area. Most of the surrounding buildings were either private docking bays or businesses focused on space travel and maintenance.

As she pilots the landspeeder through the maze of buildings Eziriel gasps and points to a small fleet of sleek rose gold starfighters docked on an upper platform of the starport and excitedly tells Din about how a prototype device she has been developing for the past year was being tested on them. When he asks about the prototype he takes in how she perks up and starts happily rambling to him about how the device she invented conserves power and how quickly it can transfer that power to systems that need it, ultimately creating a more reactive user interface than ever before, which results in the ship’s systems to function at a higher rate. It was honestly a rather mundane topic that Din barely kept up with, but the way her eyes light up when she explains the device as if it were the most innovative creation in centuries gives Din an insight of how passionately she feels towards her work.

By the time she pulls them into a public garage Din has learned more about electrical relays than he ever cared about knowing. He tries his best to collect the kid from his safety seat and place him in his pram without waking him and is moderately successful, provoking only a few grumpy grunts from the child before falling back asleep. She leads them out of the garage and down the cobbled street pointing out shops that could be useful if he needed to restock his ship if he were to visit again and when she mentions that it causes him to mentally pause.

He has not really considered coming back since he’s primarily been focused on leaving. Arkadia seems like a lovely, if not privileged, planet. It would be wise to use the passage visa to a planet that was uncharted and overly secure. It would ultimately be a great place to lie low if they needed to avoid the Empire remnants in his search for the Jedi. Not to mention Eziriel mentioned something about Mandalorians in the prefecture, maybe there is a covert here that he could get in contact with. The Armorer told him to search out Mandalorian in his hunt for the Jedi, but he thought his bounty hunter skills were enough to find a trail to them without aid. Din sighs at his hubris and makes a note to ask Eziriel about the Mandalorian history here when they are alone again.

After a few turns and a push through some young rowdy pilots who start to jeer at Eziriel before quickly holding their tongue once they see his broad figure behind her, she leads them to a shop front. The front of the building looks like it was once very modern, but age and time made it stick out against the newer buildings. The windows and pathways are filled with large potted plants that climb up the walls in a verdant maze, except for a large square portion of the vines that is neatly cut away to show the building’s red facade that has the name “Torbin’s'' freshly painted in a shiny gold script. Following Eziriel through the door they are greeted by a smiling middle-aged Nautolan woman seated behind an organized desk dressed in a flowing floral dress that compliments her blue skin.

“Bless the stars, look at you dressed all pretty! Not a single grease stain or burn mark in sight! Trying to impress your new Mandalorian?” the woman says with waggling eyebrows towards Eziriel.

“Yes. I’ve been told unblemished clothes are the way to court a Mandalorian out of their armor and into my bed. You figured me out, Filia,” Eziriel quips with an overly serious tone and a smirk. Filia throws her head back in a laugh causing the golden jewelry wrapped around her head tentacles to jingle noisily. She pulls Eziriel into a brief hug before holding her out at arms length.

“He should be so lucky,” she winks at Dins and hooks Eziriel’s arm into her own to guide her through the waiting room that they had first entered into. Filia leads them through a hallway with shelves cluttered with labeled ship parts as she regales Eziriel with her daughter’s recent accomplishments in some sort of medical academy.

Opening the backdoor a wide open workspace with three attached hangers comes into view. The tall overhead hangar door was retracted and two smaller towing vessels sat in the center of the workspace while a crew of three Arkadians were inspecting the mounted tractor beams. A green skinned Nautolan man stood with a datapad and was giving out instructions to his crew. He turns when he hears Filia call and makes his way over to them after issuing a final command to his crew.

“You must be the owner of that downed antique in Ga’ladora’s Canyon,” the man says with a grin and holds out a hand for Din to shake. “I am Torbin Dresden.”

“She’s old, but faithful,” Din responds, shaking his hand firmly before resting it on his belt. “Eziriel has told me you are the best mechanic to get the Razor Crest back in the sky.”

“Bah,” he says, swatting his hand in the air dismissively. “She just says ‘cause I let her tinker with the electronics of ships I’m working on when she needs to clear her head. But I will use everything in my skill set to get your ship up and running.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Din nods in thanks.

“I will say, with the scans that Eziriel sent me of how it is wedged in the canyon, it might take us longer than usual with extraction,” Torbin informs them with a slight grimace. “So it might be a few days before it even gets to the shop, but I can comm you when it is if you’d like to retrieve anything from it. Or if you’d like to amend any of Eziriel’s plans for the ship.”

Din cocks his head before slowly turning it down towards Eziriel. “Eziriel’s plans?” He asks with a cool voice trying to rein in the temper he feels brewing at the audacity of the woman making calls for his ship. At the furrow of her brow he assumes she feels that irritation.

“Cool your jets, Lori. I just sent him the original blueprint of a ST-70 Assault Ship,” she says with a placating wave of her hand. “I was going to have him use better quality material and upgrade a few things if needed, but was going to run that by you first.” Din feels his anger recede at that. She wasn’t trying to make decisions for him, she was just trying to help by giving the mechanic the blueprint in advance so he could better prepare.

“Thank you, but the upgrades are not necessary. I don’t have the spare credits for excessive spending,” he says to her before glancing at Torbin. “Just get it hyperspace-worthy.”

“Mando, this is coming out of my pocket.” He opens his mouth to argue how he doesn’t need charity when he sees her with a serious expression, eyes pleading with him. “Your safety is my priority. That includes a high-functioning ship that can manage the wilds of space,” she says slowly with deliberate emphasized beats.

Din stares at her earnest face while he has an internal debate. He detests being in debt to someone, it hangs around his neck like an invisible collar with a chain that yanks him at the most inconvenient time. People have abused the favors he’s owed them when he was younger and he has strived to avoid becoming indebted ever since. Being under anyone’s thumb repulses Din down to his bones.

However, Eziriel explained the night before the importance of her binding herself to him and the vow she made for his safety. She implied that not letting her fulfill that vow would ultimately hurt her and that it was a very sacred thing that her culture maintains, which held no ties or expectations on his end. It reminds Din of a Wookiee life debt, which is seen just as seriously when pledged. Sure, she is bending the verbiage to go beyond what he deems necessary, but her generosity and the kindness behind it sways Din to trust her that much more.

“Torbin is giving me a great deal because of the free work he gets out of me, every single decision will be approved by you, and I will even do all the electrical labor so you don’t have feel like you are draining my bank dry,” she negotiates before Din has a chance to respond. She leans in and elbows him playfully and in a dramatic whisper says, “Not that you could, royal coffers and all that.”

“Okay,” he eventually responds in a soft voice and watches her body melt into relief. “I don’t like being indebted to people.”

“Well good thing you won’t owe me anything,” she says with an equally soft voice.

“Feeling indebted to people is nearly as bad,” he admits.

“Well, maybe I can find you things to do for me to relieve that burden,” she says with a growing smirk. “You’re good with kids, maybe cover my biweekly childminding gig?”

Din releases a small exhale of amusement and turns to where Torbin and Filia had drifted away during his and Eziriel’s intense conversation. Din waves them over and thanks them for the work they are going to put into the ship while Eziriel fills out the datapad Torbin hands to her.

The rest of the conversation of repair planning goes smoothly and Din is only momentarily taken aback when he witnesses Torbin casually float the filled out datapad to his crew with a barely there wave of his hand while making a friendly dig at Eziriel. It makes him realize that it will take more than a day surrounded by the magic wielding citizens of Arkadia for Din to get used to the casualness of their powers. The thought of getting used to the everyday power usage of the people brings up his previous internal debate on coming back to this planet and using it as a refuge.

Could he feel secure enough to hide away here if necessary? Possibly, he thinks as he watches that rose gold patrol squadron take off from the starport while they walk back to the landspeeder; Eziriel pointing to them and chatting away to the now-awake toddler.

Would he come back to this planet even if he didn’t need to use it as a safe place to lay low? Din looks over at the child who pats Eziriel’s face while joining her in pointing at the starfighters and he pushes down the chest-warming simmering thought of yes before continuing to follow the woman back to the landspeeder.

<<  Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine >>

[sirthisisa-wendys]

please dont apologize for taking ur time! when i reflect on it - it was probably insensitive of me to ask for writing updates when im one of the people who interact with said writing, not work on it in any capacity. i apologize! please take your time to come back to a solid pacing where you feel comfy, otherwise, your hobby will feel dour and i hope whatever's weighing on you eases up soon! once again, i apologize for being insensitive and not thinking through the ask. i have to add that aside from being an awesome, bright writer, you are also an awesome, bright person, so i'm sorry for bringing you down or reminding you of bad stuff with my ask. <3 sending love

It wasn't insensitive at all! Don't be hard on yourself - you genuinely want to interact with and enjoy the content. Please don't beat yourself up over it - I just wanted everyone to know I haven't just up and abandoned that series. I've just been trying to see if I can touch on those topics and give you the pieces you deserve. My best work is what you all come here for, and I'm not going to give you anything less.

Thank you for giving me a push in the right direction, though. I just needed reminders that there are people who want the final night. I'll be writing it tonight and hopefully posting it as well.

Thanks, anon. You're the best. All the love back to you, and I hope you enjoy the final piece when it comes out. :)

[splicedskies]

"It'd be nice.. means I'd actually be able to use Pokémon Centers.. and actually earn money through battling but.. I can't." Altra frowned a bit at this. His eyes moving to the ground now as they walked.

"I don't have my records, my mom has those. And she never registered me anywhere before she was taken when the ferry was attacked.." He shook his head slowly, his mood slightly dour as it was brought up. Without any records of his.. well.. existence, it was near impossible. No name records, no birth certificate, not even medical records.

Nothing.

But he was thankful for the brief shift in topic.

"Oh! Right.. yeah! That! It's what my mom called him. A 'Hisuian Zorua'. Said they were super rare, and Albert did tell me he came from a little tribe of them that lived deep in Mt. Coronet!" He smiled as he spoke about his first Pokémon. All while reaching to his belt to pull off what looked to be a Luxury Ball. But there was something off about it.

The mechanisms holding it together were definitely not standard issue. Likely it was custom made.

"Well.. okay. don't say I didn't warn you." He warns as they pause on the side walk adjacent to the park Altra was talking about. With a simple toss, and a flash of what looked to be blue glimmering light, out formed a small little fox Pokémon. Indeed, it was pale, ghostly looking with it's fur coming off in wispy tendrils. A bored look in it's eyes.. but it lacked red coloring.

Instead it was blue, a sparkle following it as it fully formed out of the ball.

'Uhhggg..' A grumble, an agitated groan as he immediately looked to Altra.

'Is there a reason for you bringing me out in the middle of the day?'

"S-sorry Albert, this is Mister Edgeworth! I wanted you to meet him!" Altra motioned to Miles, the Zorua, looked to the man with a weary gaze.

Admittedly, Edgeworth isn't all too familiar with the proper method of acquiring starters either. Both in his possession - Decidueye and Empoleon - were gifted to him. There was no choice in the matter, no meeting with the regional professor. It was simply a gift for having met a milestone.

❝ Would you want to formally register as a trainer? ❞ He's not sure where the question came from. He's a bit of a stickler for the rules, but legal trainer status isn't one he likes to fuss over. It can be a difficult process. ❝ I wouldn't mind assisting you through that, assuming it's not only safe for you to do so, but also something you truly desire. ❞

It wouldn't be much of an inconvenience. He's gone through the required steps plenty of times now, another member in the club of "People Edgeworth has speed legal processes along for" wouldn't bother him.

❝ Hisuian, ❞ He corrects. ❝ I've read that Decidueye also has one. It becomes a fighting type instead, and its plumage is more red in color. ❞ Reminiscent of trees in autumn. The hand not blocking the sun thumbs over one of the Pokeballs in his pocket - Blathers, if the worn out texture is anything to go off.

❝ I wouldn't mind taking a gander. ❞ Because he is curious. And ghost types have always seemed to take a liking to him. ❝ His grumpiness shouldn't be anything I cannot handle. ❞

[bailey-reaper]

Barok getting roped into a Dance of Deduction by Herlock while out on an investigation. Either as the subject of the dance, or Herlock's dance partner.

Of Death & Deductions

Notes: Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this one, anon - it's such an amusing premise and I've been trying to think of the best way to deliver it! Hopefully this offering is alright!

Content Warnings: Herlock. Sholmes.; Tia tries to create a Logic & Reasoning Spectacular; tries is the operative word...; I'm sorry Capcom.

"Mr. Reaper!"

Herlock announced his presence loudly and with dramatic flair as he threw himself through the Prosecutor's (thankfully open) window and rolled along the floor before hopping up to a stand before the man's desk.

". . ."

Barok was quietly penning a letter to the Attorney General's Office at the time, and his pen did not even flinch at the sudden appearance of the irksome detective. Instead, he ignored his 'guest' (lit. intruder) and continued with his work.

"What? No welcome?! Not even a cry of shock!? I'm disappointed... clearly I must redouble my efforts," Herlock folded his arms while looking thoughtful.

"... A novel suggestion," Barok said, not looking up from his letter, "But perhaps try the door next time and, shockingly, maybe arrange an appointment?"

Herlock arched an eyebrow, "That's far too boring, my good fellow!"

"Ah yes..." having finished his letter, Barok set the quill down and powdered the paper so the ink would take hold, "Silly me," he folded it in half, slipped it into an envelope and proceeded to seal it with wax, "... Fine. Why are you here?"

"I'm SO glad you asked! There has been a murder most foul not far from here, I wondered if you might wish to accompany me to the scene!"

Barok arched an eyebrow, wondering why the detective had come here to inform him rather than a policeman. Still, it would be remiss of him to ignore the problem, "Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"I've said it at the appropriate time, now let us be off ── posthaste!"

──────≪⊰✥⊱≫───────

They arrived at Madam Tusspells in record time and went into the 'Law and Order' exhibition, where a number of prominent figures from the world of law were preserved in wax forever more - including Lord van Zieks himself.

He paid his own waxwork no heed, even though the corpse was collapsed before it.

"Now, dear fellow, everything is ready and thus it is time!"

"Time for what?" Barok asked, peering at the detective.

"Why!" Sholmes held up a finger and smiled, "Time for the main attraction that is Herlock Sholmes's 'Logic and Reasoning Spectacular'!!"

"... huh?"

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱 𝔇𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

..... The game is afoot!

𝔗opic 1: the victim's identity

Sholmes (somehow) casts a spotlight upon the corpse, "Firstly, we must consider the man's attire. He does not appear to be wearing a uniform that would identify him as a member of staff. The fact he is wearing a suit might point toward him being a member of the nobility, but no! Look at how ill-fitting his suit is and how he clearly ignores all good and proper fashion trends. Clearly this man is an undercover police officer!"

"Let me stop you there," Barok interjected, already annoyed by the monologue, "This man clearly is not a police officer."

"Oh ho! So the reaper waits for no one! You wish to correct my deductions ad lib? Well... it's unconventional, but very well Mr. Reaper! What's wrong with my deduction?"

"This," Barok held up a business card, "The man is a fine arts dealer by the name of Maurice De Lioncourt. It would appear he is here on a visit from France, given that he also has his passport on his person with corresponding details."

"Oh ho! Well, yes, that wraps this topic up rather nicely!" Sholmes exclaimed.

ℭonclusion: the man is an undercover policeman a fine arts dealer by the name 'Maurice de Lioncourt'!

"Onward, then! To the second deduction!"

"Do we have to?" Barok muttered.

Apparently the answer to that was a resounding yes--

𝔗opic 2: the cause of the victim's demise

"So that leaves but one mystery for us to unravel, my dour friend! How did this poor visitor to our shores meet his untimely end?! I believe the truth of the matter is plain as day and incredibly shocking!"

Barok sighed, knowing full well the answer was about to be mangled into some nonsensical drivel by the 'Great Detective', "... Do tell."

"It is obvious that this man is a thrill seeker! Those who deal in fine arts clearly enjoy the heart pounding terror that comes with purchasing works and not knowing whether they've secured a genuine article or a terrible fake! With that devil may care attitude, our poor victim came to the Madame Tusspells Museum of Waxworks with the intention of being entertained -- but clearly he got more than he bargained for when he came face to face with the terrifying visage of a real life vampire! The horrifyingly pallid and dour face no doubt sent him into the throes of a most awful shock, causing him to suffer a most sharp and unmistakably fatal heart attack!"

"OBJECTION!" Barok snarled, "Are you truly going to suggest that the man, upon seeing a wax work of me, went on to suffer a heart attack?!"

"Indubitably my good fellow! Yours is a face that strikes fear into the hearts of hardened criminals! Think what it would do to an innocent museum goer!"

"This ... is ridiculous!" Barok hissed as he glowered at the detective, "Your narrative is full of holes!"

"Oh ho is that so? Then do feel free to point out where I've gone wrong, good fellow!"

"First of all, you claim the man is a thrill seeker who enjoys being terrified but this is NOT the 'House of Horrors' where one would go to be thusly terrified! This is the Law and Order exhibit!"

"Well perhaps this terrifying waxwork of a vampire has been mistakenly placed in the Law and Order exhibition?" Holmes opined.

"It's a waxwork of ME, man! And I am not a vampire!" Barok shot back indignantly.

"I fear the jury is out on that one, Mr. Reaper, but I suppose it's true enough that you are a Prosecutor so your waxwork might well be placed in the Law and Order exhibit. Pray tell, then, if you claim this man did not suffer a fatal heart attack upon laying his eyes on your most formidable and imposing visage, what did kill him?"

"Oh I wonder... Perhaps the knife in his back?!"

ℭonclusion: the man suffered a heart attack upon seeing Prosecutor van Zieks' face was stabbed in the back with a knife!

𝔇𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢!

....... Elementary!

"And thus concludes Herlock Sholmes's 'Logic and Reasoning Spectacular'!" Herlock announced proudly, before sighing and looking dismayed, "I have to say, Mr. Reaper, you make for a rather woeful dance partner... your sense of decorum is quite shot! I shan't be in a hurry to invite you to take part in one of my Deduction Dances."

"Good, never darken my door again and call the police for God's sake man!" Barok snarled, before stalking out of the museum and directly into a Hansom, "To the Prosecutor's Office, good man, and send the bill to 221B Baker Street."

Sholmes sighed as he watched other man leave, "... Truly I do miss that brilliant young man... come back to London soon, Mr. Naruhodo!"

[lichdragon-fortissax]

Totally fair, I'm a big low fantasy fan so ASOIAF always vibed for me. I think Morgott makes sense as a Tyrion expy, but I feel like Stannis makes sense as well in that both of them are unpopular members of their family, both have an unwavering sense of duty to regimes that have personally not done much for them or actively harmed them, and I get the vibe that they both ultimately want the recognition that their family has received, but feel it's out of there grasp. I'm sorry ignore this ask, I'm here ranting about ASOIAF, on your Elden Ring blog!

Oh fuck sorry I just saw the end of your ask where you said you don't mind elaborating on ASOIAF parallels a bit more. Sorry I had a brain lapse hgjhjf. Stannis has his speech about all the other combatants in the Wo5K being traitors, and when you compare it to Morgott's throne speech they sort of have the same feeling, Stannis is the rightful King/Marika is the rightful Queen, and people shirking their duty has lead to this all out war. I personally think it seems clear that Stannis/Morgott both yearn for recognition and validation as other members of their family have gotten but it constantly seems to elude them so they fall back to the dutiful brother/son archetype in an attempt to pry out some measly recognition from their family. Of course this will never work because Morgott was born something the GO will never not hate, and Stannis's sense of duty is actually something that irks his brothers. Of course there's the Tyrion parallel in that both of them are born "monstrous" (Tyrion disabled, Morgott non-human.) But I actually feel like Mohg and Tyrion are more alike, but that's a whole other topic. Sorry for brain dumping in your inbox again!

...

No no dw about the brain dumping! I literally asked for it, and it's super interesting. Stannis was the one that lived on the island and had the onion knight under his command, right? The guy who smuggled in onions and became a lord because of his duty to him? Because I can def. see the parallels there with his behavior, while the Tyrion parallel was more obvious to me at first because a.) I forgot Stannis existed, and b.) there was the whole theme where Tyrion was the malformed son of a lion-based lord who ended up being the most competent member of his family despite his disabilities, and yet he still yearned for the recognition of his family. I think that GRRM sort of took inspiration from both Stannis and Tyrion when he was making Morgott, combining the best elements of their characters to craft the peak 'Sad Tragic Prince Who Didn't Deserve What He Got' dude in Elden Ring. He's got both the information-seeking spies and warriors that Tyrion utilized (the Night's Cavalry) and the rigid, dour sense of duty of Stannis, so he def. combined his favorite elements for those characters when making Morgott.

I am interested in the Mohg and Tyrion link, though, because Mohg was so utterly infatuated with himself and unhinged that I didn't really make much of a tie to other characters with him- I was too focused on trying to figure out wtf was wrong with him and laughing in relief at how Fromsoft toned back GRRM's weird incest thing to really notice much. Like I said, I only got through a little bit of A Storm of Swords, so maybe I missed somethings, but Tyrion was pretty much my fav character of the group other than Dany, so I'm interested in what you have to say about those parallels

[addictedtostorytelling]

What do you think Grissom meant in the “I need you” like at the crime scene and Sara’s look / smile after he says it?

hi, anon!

well, in the literal, surface-level sense, he means that since he has a complicated pair of coincident cases before him (i.e., the aggravated assault on the taxi driver and the stabbing homicide of the teenager), he needs another criminalist to help him in the investigation, because there's too much work for just one person to do by himself. as he explains to sara, everyone else on the team is unavailable, and he has no id, no suspects, and no primary crime scene. if he's gonna get this thing solved, he will require another set of hands AND another mind at work to get everything processed and figured out.

of course, as is usually the case with gsr, there's the surface level, and then there's what lies beneath��and in this case what lies beneath is an apology of sorts.

note that when sara first walks up to grissom and starts "complaining" about how he called her away from a mandatory continuing education seminar, she is 100% putting on a show, trying to flirt with him. she's not really upset about the call-in—and is in fact excited that he chose her to spend the day with—she's just being sassy to tease him. you can tell by how she makes sure to mention that the seminar was on forensic anthropology (i.e., the same topic as grissom's 1998 forensic academy seminar, where she and grissom first met and fell in love) and also because she has that kind of cocky affect going on.

unfortunately for her, grissom is in no mood to flirt, atm.

he's stressed, so he ends up being curt with her ("well, i'm sorry, but everyone seems to have something to do today"), responding to her playfulness with a dour rundown of a long list of things going wrong with his case so far.

watch sara's face as he does so: you can see her do a sort of "oh shit. i totally played that wrong. oh shit. yeah, no, he's not interested in joking around today. okay. yikes" reaction in real time, her brow furrowing and mouth falling open as she realizes he's not sharing her same wavelength.

of course, we can't see either grissom or sara's eyes in this scene, as they're both wearing shades, so i can't say so with 100% certainty, but i'm pretty sure grissom clocks sara's little recoil as soon as it happens and recognizes that he misread her "grousing" from earlier as more serious than she meant it to be.

she's not actually arguing with him; she's there to help.

that's why he adds a coda to soften the blow of his diatribe at the end: "i need you."

as stated above, one reading of the statement is professional—he needs her to help him work the case—but the other one is personal.

over the years, grissom has always used the lab/the work to represent himself when he expresses his attraction to and yearning for sara—such as, for instance, in episode 02x15 "burden of proof" when he tells her "the lab needs [her]" or even later on in episode 05x13 "nesting dolls" when he tells ecklie "she's a great criminalist, conrad. and i need her." he always makes it about the job, because that's what safe to him; that's justifiable. however, in reality, he’s using the job as a stand-in for his own self and his feelings.

so he does the same thing here.

outwardly, he's telling her "i need your help on this case" but on a more personal note, he's expressing that he didn't mean to be harsh to her and that he does want her around—not just in a professional capacity—because, of course, he always does.

it's a sincere expression of genuine feeling, a little bit of vulnerability from him to make up for his prickliness earlier.

and that's why sara smiles—because that man is so damn charming.

she knows the professional meaning behind the words, but she also hears the personal one. yeah, it was probably largely luck of the draw that she ended up being the only team member who was even potentially available to come help him today, but that doesn't mean he wasn't secretly happy it was her.

she knows he was.

he's basically telling her as much.

in this context, "i need you" is tantamount to "i want you."

and she'll be damned if she doesn't love hearing him so say.

cue a three-day long gsr super date, replete with all kinds of romantic overtures, sweet gestures, and eye sex galore.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[everythingheard]

Anthony's eyebrows rose ever-so slightly at her startled reception ( really, he supposed he ought to feel sorry for alarming her as he had ). Surely she hadn't been expecting him, rare as it was that he might leave his office at this time of day, yet he couldn't quite help himself upon noticing Gregory's dour expression through the crack in the door. Although he perhaps meddled too often in his younger sibling's affairs for their tastes, none of them quite understood the enormous responsibility thrust upon his shoulders the very summer of his eighteenth birthday; he had hardly been prepared to run the estate and manage the family finances, much less assume a fatherly role to seven brothers and sisters. Thus far, Gregory and Hyacinth had proven the easiest to handle over the past nine years, and the least likely to object to Anthony's involvement whether they had requested it or not. Upon introducing the notion of a new governess before Gregory had even found the opportunity to broach the topic of difficulties in language studies, the second-youngest Bridgerton had proven immensely appreciative of it. Despite Gregory's ongoing struggles with the subject, he found no fault with Miss Moore, who had remained encouraging throughout the entirety of that first week.

Stepping further into the room, he considered her own strides to learn English, and certainly couldn't fault her parents for their difficulty with particular idioms. However, before Anthony could respond to the opinion she posited about learning languages best through others than the solitary company of books, her question gave him pause. ' How did you learn Latin or French? ' For just a moment, any response he could offer felt trapped in his throat. "When I was Gregory's age, I learned Latin, Greek, and French from my father." His gaze shifted briefly to the floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining the library walls, where each shelf bore the spines of tomes Edmund Bridgerton had once selected. "I went to Eton after I turned thirteen, but he taught me as much as he could of language, literature, and philosophy himself until then, even if much of the ton thought it odd." Other subjects had fallen to tutors, but Anthony had relished teaching from his father above all else.

He gave a short nod of his head, then. Maybe he had said what he needed to, but he felt as trapped as he had for nearly a decade; speaking of Edmund brought to the forefront a grief that had made a home in his very bones, though to refrain was akin to erasing the man's importance to their family and weakened the memories of his siblings. Nevertheless, Anthony had answered the inquiry, hadn't he? Approaching the table where a variety of Miss Moore's things still waited to be packed in her satchel, he continued, "To learn an entirely new language as you have while residing in the place where everyone already speaks it is impressive. Your English is excellent. Tell me — is this what you've always done? Teach?"

Mu Lan, known to her employers as Leah Helena Moore, felt bad for Gregory Bridgerton, one of her students. Some people had a natural talent for learning languages. He was not one of those people, but she liked him nonetheless. He liked to learn, was always polite, and asked her questions about China, allowing her to practice her English without judgment. It probably helped that his mother had grown up during The Great Experiment, when the now-Queen Charlotte had been made to marry King George III to unite the races. Whatever the reason, Gregory was a good child, and she knew he was intelligent, even if he was currently struggling with her lessons. He wasn't easily distracted, and he was brilliant in his native tongue, possessing quite the vocabulary when she allowed him to answer her in English.

She was just putting away her quills, inkwell, Gregory's homework, and some other supplies into her satchel when she heard the voice at the doorway. "Oh! Lord Bridgerton! Good evening--" Lan cursed softly as she stumbled as she stood. When she was boxing, her stance was steady, but...she was usually clumsy when it came to everyday movement. The young woman cleared her throat, attempting to present herself as a lady of her station should. "It took my parents and I a year or so to learn English. They still are confused by certain phrases, but I believe languages come easier when you have a partner, as opposed to a book. Some might disagree...how did you learn Latin or French?" she asked politely. It was common for the men of the ton and the aristocracy to read and write Latin, and speak French or Greek. Some benefited from traveling abroad where those were used naturally, but it was forbidden by the emperor to teach foreigners Chinese. Foreigners who knew Chinese wouldn't need translators, and that was one less person under the emperor who would get paid.

[not-withoutyou]

Bucky’s eyes snapped open, choking on air— a hand hit a cushion.

“Sergeant Barnes?” A soft voice, gentle in a way that felt out of place accompanied with the panic lodged behind his sternum.

Observe.

A cot under him. A swimming head and buzzing white light —a laboratory. Hydra? No. Wakanda. Not a laboratory. A recovery room. Safe. He had been sleeping— not sleeping— unconscious, put under by means other than his own. Because there hadn’t been dreams. There hadn’t been anything.

No exit. No windows, blocked door. Shuri stood in the entry way, careful, nervous hands clasped in front of her. Not a threat. Friendly. Guards behind her —not friendly. (Understandable.)

Assess.

Why was he out? A mission failure. He’d failed, he’d failed. Another attempt at removing the triggers had caused an outburst. Bucky closed his eyes. He’d thought Steve was here. (Steve his friend. Steve his favorite person to see.) But he’d imagined it. Or Steve had left, hadn’t wanted to see him. Bucky understood. Or worse —maybe Steve was hurt, maybe Bucky had hurt him.

Bucky tried to sit up, to throw the blanket off his body — until he noticed that it wasn’t a blanket draped over him at all. It was a jacket. A light leather one that smelled like cologne he recognized from a dream.

“Captain Rogers was called away,” Shuri explained, pulling Bucky’s focus to the present again. “He wanted to wait for you to wake, but the business was urgent.”

Bucky nodded blearily. Captain Rogers —Steve— had been there, after all. The details were fuzzy, but yes, this was Steve’s jacket — it smelt like him. He must’ve forgotten it. Bucky clutched a handful of it like he was afraid it would evaporate.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri tried again, noticing his attention starting to drift, but she didn’t sound angry. (Bucky would have deserved the anger.) The guards took a step closer to her simultaneously.

Bucky let the jacket fall back into his lap. “Did I hurt anyone?” His voice was hoarse. He’d been screaming, before. He remembered. The softness in Shuri’s expression made it almost seem like she cared. For being so young, she carried herself with so much compassion… like a little sister. Did Bucky have a sister? A name with an R. The thought only half-registered before it was gone.

“A few scratches. Just yourself.”

And Bucky felt a bandage near his collarbone, reached up and touched the gauze with his hand to solidify its existence. The damage would undoubtedly have been worse if he’d had a left arm.

“When you are ready, I have another theory I would like to test before the day is out.”

More procedures to try to get his sanity to stick, to un-scramble his thoughts. God, Bucky was tired. He was so tired, his head ached and he didn’t know how much more of this he could handle. “Okay. Can I just have 5 minutes?” His voice cracked.

“Take your time.” Shuri gave him a soft smile before she turned to leave.

Once again alone, Bucky brought the jacket to his nose and closed his eyes. Old leather and fresh, clean rain. Something woodsy and strong like cedar, like a past life. He pulled it close to his chest and thought to himself, over and over, that Steve would be back. He had to come back to get his jacket. And, perhaps, because he had promised. Bucky couldn’t remember why, but he knew that meant something.

After raining steadily for a few days, the thunder storm had started to break up. Cracks in the heavy, dark clouds almost looked like a creation myth over the vast fields and the purple-gray mountains in the distance. The Genesis of all things. Bucky was allowed outside with supervision. He needed a reprieve from the past two dour weeks. When Steve’s plane landed, he found Bucky sitting by the water, pulling blades of grass up by the roots. Bucky hadn’t meant to start plucking them —his hands did on their own volition. (Destruction was a pattern he needed to break.)

When Steve approached him, it was carefully, keeping his hands where Bucky could see them. (Not a threat. Safe. Safe.) He remembered Steve. He remembered that he missed him. That it was good to see him. Sometimes Steve showed up wearing tactical gear, dirty and beat up. Today, though, he was in khaki trousers and a white button down. His hair was neat and styled. (Some rogue part of Bucky’s brain thought he looked pretty.)

Bucky stood up, slow, awkward and off-balance.

“Hi, Buck. You remember me?” Steve asked. The usual greeting. (Sometimes Bucky didn’t remember, didn’t say anything at all.)

“You’re Steve.” Bucky wanted Steve to smile at him instead of looking so sad. (Steve always looked so sad. Worry lines were starting to crease his forehead.)

“Do you know where you are?”

“I’m in Wakanda trying to get better. I useta hurt people. I don’t do that anymore.”

Steve exhaled a breath he’d been holding. “I’m sorry I had to leave so quickly,” he said. “But — they needed me in DC.”

When Steve didn’t get any other response, he continued. “You’ve — you’ve been pardoned, Buck. You’re forgiven.” His hand reached out halfway between them, but he dropped it, shoving it back in his pocket.

Bucky opened his mouth, but didn’t utter a sound. He couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes.

“Do you remember what I always tell you?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s voice was thick with emotion when he found it again. “You say it wasn’t my fault.” He couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes.

Steve smiled. “That’s right. And the powers that be seem to agree with me.”

The best outcome he could have hoped for, so why did it feel so hollow? Bucky shook his head. Steve must have gone to argue on his behalf— but he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve it. A tiny nagging hope persisted out of spite — maybe Steve was right; maybe Bucky still had some gold in his tired heart. He couldn’t think, now, about what he’d done —his fucking bones would cave in. Shoving it all back, he’d deal with later.

Clearing his throat, Bucky reached down beside him to retrieve the bundle of material that had been carefully folded at his feet. “You forgot your jacket.” He held it out in front of him like a peace offering.

Steve blinked a few times in soft bemusement, but took the abrupt shift of topic in stride. Keeping his hands in his pockets, Steve made no move to take the jacket. “Oh! No, I— I left it for you.” There was something in the way he said it that made Bucky feel like there was more; like he’d left something out. (Bucky shrugged off the feeling — it wasn’t new. He always felt like he was missing something.)

“It’s yours.” Bucky didn’t know why, but he was adamant that Steve would get cold without it.

Something cracked in Steve’s expression. A lightning-quick flash of something in his eyes, shattered and crystalline.

“Keep it. We’ll share. It can be both of ours.”

Bucky didn’t know why shared custody of a piece of clothing made him feel like crying.

. . .

Visit me on Ao3

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Friends

OH MY GOSH DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT’S BEEN SINCE I WROTE FOR FILI?!!??!  TOO LONG.  I enjoyed every second of his Fee-Fluff.  Although, I actually kept trying to put ‘Kili’ instead of ‘Fili’...  I think I need to write for Fili more or Kili is trying to tell me something  Also, I was SO SO SO tempted to use one of Arwen’s lines in here...  But I didn’t. You’ll know the scene when you come to it though... ;)

Fluff about friend-zoning and Fili working up the nerve to tell a special lass he likes her.

Tags:  @elvish-sky @kumqu4t @ladylouoflothlorien​

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used:  Loka

Word Count:  2,177

Translation(s):  Surprisingly, none

Warning(s):  None.  Just fluff!

~~~~

"It's time to end this, once and for all."  Kili declared suddenly as he sat next to me in the library; head propped up on his palms.  I glanced up sharply from the thick tome I was currently pouring over.

"What?"  I asked, not sure if I had heard him right.  

"I said, it's time to end this once and for all.  I'm sick of watching you pine after Fili."  He repeated, adding some clarification to his words.

I let out a sigh, grabbing the ribbon I was using as a bookmark and placing it in the book to mark my spot.  Something told me I wouldn't be returning to it for awhile.  "What are you even talking about, Kili?  I don't pine after Fili."  I said, and Kili smirked.

"Uh huh.  I've counted you watching him 178 different times in the past three days.  Explain that."  He said, prompting a faint blush to appear on my cheeks.

And I thought I hadn't been that obvious...  Hmm, perhaps it was time to be a bit more--

"That's what I thought."  Kili's confidence-loaded voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him grinning knowingly at me.  "You fancy him, don't you?"

I gave Kili a confused look, trying to buy myself time.  "Fancy who?"  

Kili threw up his hands in a show of exasperation.  "Fili.  My brother.  The one who's always watching you."  He said in much too loud of a voice, and I motioned at him to be quiet.  I didn't need this to be the new rumor circling Erebor.

Mahal, how embarrassing would that be?

But his words puzzled me; the way that they implied that Fili---no, surely not.  It was too good to be true.

Footsteps sounded behind me, interrupting my musings, and Kili winked at me, grinning mischievously.  "Who fancies who?"  A deep, gentle voice asked behind me as broad hands came down to rest upon my shoulders.  

Speak of the devil...

"I was just talking to Loka here about a lad from the Iron Mountains.  She thought he was quite fetching."  Kili piped up suddenly, and I shot him a glare.  The nerve of him...

Fili's hands tightened on my shoulders, and I fidgeted a bit in discomfort.  "Hey, be careful about squeezing me too hard.  I'm not iron."  I muttered, and Fili's hands disappeared in an instant as he came around to stand beside me.

"Sorry, Loka."  He said, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.  Those beautiful blue eyes of his had a faraway gaze.

Kili kicked my shin underneath the table, and I turned to him with a stifled yelp of pain.  "What the hell was that for?"  I hissed, glaring furiously at the insolent Prince.  

You were staring again.  He mouthed with a cheeky look on his face.  I just gave him a disgusted look and turned my gaze back down to the book I had so reluctantly vacated.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got some things to take care of."  I said, breaking the silence that had fallen over us as soon as Fili approached.  

Before either of them could protest, I gathered up my stuff from the library table and hurried out of Erebor's royal library.  Maybe I could finally finish the tales of Númenor in the comfort of my own room?

~~~~

"Loka!"  A sharp cry of my name had me halting in my tracks as I walked through the halls of Erebor.  Turning around, I was surprised to see Fili jogging towards me; decked out in full royal garb.

"Prince Fili?"  I asked, fidgeting with the bundle of fabric in my arms.  A grimace flashed across Fili's face at my use of his title.

"How many times have I told you that you don't need to call me by that...?"  He groaned, and I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Obviously not enough times; but I kinda have to call you by that since you are the Crown Prince after all."  I said, but Fili just shook his head.

"Forget etiquette for once, Loka."  He said, giving me a pleading look that awoke butterflies in my stomach.  

Nodding, I smiled at him.  "If that's what you command...  But anyways, why did you stop me?"  I asked curiously, and Fili shuffled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his rapidly reddening neck as he turned his gaze to the floor.

"Uh..."  He was suddenly at a loss for words, and I watched this with a incredulous look.  Never before had I seen Fili look so...  nervous.

"Fee?"  I called softly, using Fili's childhood nickname.  

"Would you like to go to the ball with me?"  He suddenly said; words rushing out in a jumbled hurry that left me speechless for a moment as I processed them.

"The ball that's happening in about four days?"  I asked, and Fili nodded quickly.

"Aye, that one.  Would you like to go with me?"  

Disappointment welled in my stomach as I looked at the hopeful expression on his bearded features.  "I would love to--"  I began, and Fili's face broke out in a wide smile.

"Tha-that's great!"  He said excitedly, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"You didn't let me finish.  I would love to go with you, but I'm already going with someone."  I said, and the smile was wiped off Fili's face, only to be replaced with a furrowed look that didn't belong anywhere on his handsome features.  "I'm so sorry, Fili."  I whispered, but Fili was quick to shake his head.

"No, no, I should be sorry for bothering you.  It's no big deal Loka, I just thought...  Who are you going with?"  He asked, quickly switching topics.

An image of a dark-haired Dwarrow--the exact opposite of Fili in so many different ways--popped into my head.  "Maglorian.  One of Dain's ambassadors."  I said quietly, forcing a bright smile onto my face.

Fili nodded, a dark shadow passing over his face at the mention of the name.  "I've heard of him; he's very nice."  He said, giving me a smile that was so obviously fake it hurt.  "Well, save a dance for me maybe?"  

I nodded quickly, trying to find a way to lift this black cloud that had suddenly settled over Fili.  "Of course!  I'll always have a dance for you, Fee."  I said softly, and a smile flickered across his lips.

"See you around, Loka."  He murmured, turning and walking past me down the hallway.  I watched him go, noting the way his shoulders were slumped in a picture of disappointment.  But why?  Surely he hadn't wanted to go that badly with me?  Hadn't his question just been a friend asking a friend so they didn't have to go alone?

Shaking my head, I continued on my way to the Palace seamstress.  My dress needed some alterations to fit the current styles of King Thorin's court, and I hadn't had time before now to deliver it to her.

~~~~

The day of the ball had finally arrived, but something just seemed wrong.  Maglorian was very polite and nice, but not even his gracious manners could bring a genuine smile to my face.

I tried--I really did--to keep my attention on him, but I couldn't help sneaking glances towards the dour Fili.  Mahal, I'd never seen him look so hurt before.

"Miss Loka, would you like something to drink?"  Maglorian's cultured tones had me looking away from where Fili stood beside Kili and Thorin; watching the festivities.  

Forcing a smile, I nodded sweetly.  "That sounds lovely, thank you Maglorian."  I said, and he smiled back, heading away from me towards the refreshments.  

Breathing out a sigh, I returned my gaze towards the trio of royals, only to notice that one was missing.  

Kili.

Glancing around the crowded ballroom, I tried to spot the dark-haired Prince in case he attempted to pull a prank on me or something.  I wouldn't put it past him.

"Fancy a dance, my lady?"  A cheeky voice said from right beside me, and I whirled around to find Kili standing in front of me.  

Rolling my eyes, I accepted his proffered hand.  "I suppose, if only to get away from the ambassador and his manners for a moment."  I said, prompting a laugh from Kili.

"He's that bad, huh?  I thought you said he was handsome."  

"He's handsome in his own way, but he just oozes 'proper etiquette'.  It's enough to make any lass sick."  I grumbled, placing on hand on Kili's shoulder as he settled a hand on my waist.  The music had turned to a slower waltz that was perfect for talking.

Kili chuckled, grinning down at me.  "Perfect."  

His words had me looking up at him in bewilderment as he suddenly spun me away from him and into someone else's arms.  For a moment, I thought it was Maglorian and I went to pull away.

"I thought you said you'd save me a dance?  Did you change your mind?"  A familiar voice asked teasingly, and I realized Fili was the one with an arm around my waist.

Blushing, I looked up at Fili with a sheepish smile on my face.  "I thought you were Maglorian...  You are welcome to as many dances as you wish to claim."  I said, quickly adjusting my grip so that one hand was held in Fili's while the other rested on his broad shoulder.

Fili raised an eyebrow.  "So you don't like that ambassador then?"  He asked quietly, and I shook my head.

"Of course not...  He's just a nice guy that I thought would be fun to go to the ball with."  I said, understanding suddenly dawning on me.  "Wait, you thought that me and him were serious or something?"

Pink began to tinge Fili's cheeks, and he looked away from me.  "Well..."  

"You're jealous of him!  Are you afraid he'd steal your friend away from you?"  I teased, laughing at the thought even as my heart sank.

Friends, always friends.  But I'd have to content myself with that.  He'd never see me as something more.

"No."  Fili's voice was uncharacteristically hard and I scanned his face worriedly.  "I wasn't afraid that he'd steal my friend...."  He trailed off and let out a sigh, raising his head to look around at the other dancers around us.  "I--just come outside with me for a moment.  I'll explain."  He said suddenly, dropping his hand from my waist to lead me towards the doors out to the hallway.

I followed obligingly, wondering what he was going to explain.  What did he even have to explain?

Once we were finally alone out in the deserted hallway, Fili grabbed my hands and looked down at me with a searching expression in his crystal blue eyes.  "I don't know why it's so hard to say...  I've never been so afraid of something before..."  He muttered, and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"Fee?"  I prodded, and he took a deep breath, ducking his head for a moment before looking back up at me.  "I was jealous of that Dwarrow, yeah, but not for the reasons you think."  He whispered, and my eyes widened slightly.  

Was he going to say what I thought he was going to say?  

"I thought that he was going to steal away the heart of the lass who stole mine."  He said quietly, looking at me with such a vulnerable expression in his eyes, it brought tears to mine.  "It's alright if you don't feel the same, Loka, I'll get over it eventually."  He muttered as I stared at him in disbelief.

"No!"  I exclaimed, and Fili watched me apprehensively.  "Don't get over me, please.  I love you."  I whispered hoarsely, and Fili scanned my face closely, looking for any hint of a lie.

"Loka..."  He murmured in a low voice, raising trembling hands to gently cup my face,  "I feel like I'm dreaming."  

I smiled at him, closing the space between us until I was held close between his arms.  "Then we're sharing the same dream."  I whispered, tilting my head upwards as he leaned down to slant his lips over mine; his golden locks falling like a curtain over both our faces.

"Oh Mahal, finally!  I thought I'd have to lock you two in a closet somewhere!"  

Fili reluctantly pulled away from me with a sigh, turning his head to look at a grinning Kili leaning against a pillar nearby.  "Do you mind?"  He said with a raised eyebrow, and Kili raised his hands in a show of surrender.

"Sorry...  Just keep in mind that Uncle is going to be looking for you soon, so don't get too cozy together..."  He said, winking suggestively.  

"Kili..."  Fili growled, but a red flush was spreading up his neck.  "Don't make me--"

"I'm going!  I'm going!"  

With that, Kili disappeared back into the festivities, leaving me and Fili alone once more.  

Looking back down at me, Fili gave me a roguish smile.  "Now, where were we...?"

[inkwell1013]

Hungering for Friendship - Merlin

Pairing: Merlin & Arthur (platonic), Merlin & various knights (also platonic).

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: This fic includes a character struggling with food related trauma and includes mentions of death (specifically death by starvation), though it is not graphic and more passingly mentioned.

Summary: Merlin is used to having his food stolen from him. When Arthur takes some food from him, in a misguided attempt at kinship, he accidentally brings back some bad memories for his servant.

- - - - - 

There were seven bad harvests in a row when Merlin was young, one after the other. Food was scarce and Merlin’s parents could barely scrape together enough to feed themselves, let alone their son.

Merlin was one of the lucky ones. Even when people were dropping dead from hunger on the streets outside, he lived a relatively cushy lifestyle and was accustomed to eating somewhat regularly. It was hardly ever a complete meal, but who ate a complete meal in such trying times? Certainly not him. Certainly not his family.

It was enough. Not much, but enough.

He had it better that the children who were dying of hunger, his stepfather would remind him. Better than the homeless and the orphans and the runaways.

Merlin’s stepfather was a shrewd man, the kind inclined to speak his mind without thought of the consequences of his words, nor indeed any feeling it might bring another person; if he had strong feelings about something, you’d be sure to know about it. He wasn’t one for sugar-coated words and euphemisms, so when he told Merlin he was lucky because he wasn’t starving to death, Merlin believed him.

Sometimes, when he misbehaved, his stepfather would take away his plate and scold him, saying “You can have this back when you learn to your lesson.”

Invariably, the food would disappear, leaving Merlin with nothing but a growling feeling in his stomach.

He learnt quickly – he always was a perceptive boy – that doing something wrong meant you would lose the privilege of food. It meant that you would go hungry. Even when he left Ealdor for Camelot, that fearful belief lingered in his mind and refused to be shaken.

This fear reminded him that he had to be careful what he said or did around Gaius and Arthur because – at the end of the day – they were the ones who decided if he ate. As his masters, they had the power over him that his stepfather had.

Still, they never exercised that power, as Merlin never gave them the opportunity. He stayed on his best behaviour (or as close to that as he could) and in return, he had never lost those precious privileges.

There were times when he thought he would, times when he pissed off Gaius with his reckless behaviour or irritated Arthur with his snarky attitude, but neither of them had ever done anything about it, which was strange. Even so, he remained hypervigilant. He couldn’t let those things happen to him again.

He had just settled down for lunch with Gaius when Arthur barged into the room. “Come with me Merlin. You will be eating with me and my knights today,” he announced.

“But I don’t want to,” said Merlin.

“You don’t get a choice,” countered Arthur, beckoning Merlin towards the door. “You are my servant, and I’m ordering you to eat with us today. Now come with me.”

Merlin cast a desperate look to Gaius, who shrugged. There was nothing he could do about it. Sighing, Merlin rose to his feet and followed Arthur down the corridor.

This whole ordeal had unsettled Merlin. He was meant to eat with Gaius today. He always ate with Gaius.

Meals with his mentor were quiet, somewhat formal events. Gaius wasn’t much for conversation, especially not a meal times, so Merlin refrained from talking too much, not wanting to bother him. Despite all that, Merlin liked eating dinner with Gaius, because he was predictable.

Gaius was as regular as the sun’s rising and setting - he went through the exact same motions every day, at precisely the same time. Having such a routine comforted Merlin, and having it disrupted by Arthur pissed him off beyond measure. Who was Arthur to barge into their chambers and demand that Merlin ate with him and his knights?

‘He’s the heir to the throne, that’s who. Of course he gets to boss you around, the privileged asshole.’

Arthur guided Merlin into the mess hall. In the centre of the room was a rickety old table, which currently housed five rowdy knights. Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and deposited him on the bench, right between Gwaine and Percival.

Hot food was slammed down in front of him – some bread and meat of some kind – along with a pitcher of ale.

“You’re giving me ale?” said Merlin. Back in Ealdor, this stuff was a luxury; it was not the kind of thing people like him drank.

“Why not?” shrugged Leon. “Heaven knows we drink enough of the stuff. You might as well get in on the action.”

“We don’t drink that much booze,” grumbled Gwaine, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

“Says the man who gets black out drunk at the tavern every chance he gets,” smirked Merlin. “You don’t exactly hide it well, the way you stumble home every night.” The group erupted into a chorus of rowdy laughter, and Percival clapped Merlin on the shoulder, making Merlin jump a little.

“That was a good one Merlin,” laughed Arthur. There was something hidden underneath his cheery expression, though Merlin didn’t know what it was.

The conversation shifted to another topic - some play the knights were thinking of seeing - when Arthur, still nodding along with the conversation, reached over and swiped a piece of bread from Merlin’s plate. Arthur didn’t even look at him as he did it.

Merlin’s anxiety spiked. He glanced around the table, looking to see if any of the other knights had noticed, but none of them seemed to care.

Had he done something wrong? Was it something he said? Why was Arthur doing this to him?

Swallowing his worry, he did his best to pay attention to the conversation that was going on around him. Even so, he found himself getting distracted. Arthur kept eyeing him out the corner of his eye, and even though he probably thought he was being subtle, he really wasn’t. It all made Merlin feel even more anxious. He hoped it was all just a fluke and Arthur wouldn’t do it again.

“What do you think Merlin?” asked Lancelot.

“Huh?”

“Head in the clouds again?” jested Percival. “You’re such a daydreamer.”

“Oh, piss off,” said Merlin, taking a sip of his ale. It tasted bitter and he resisted the urge to scrunch up his face in disgust. How did people stomach this vile crap? “What were you saying?” he asked.

“Are you free later this week,” repeated Lancelot. “We could all go to see that play together. Make a day out of it.”

“I don’t know,” replied Merlin. “I’m pretty busy. I have my job and everything.”

“Eh, I’m sure Arthur will give you the day off.”

The group expectantly looked at Arthur, who shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” he said, taking a swig of his beer, and chewing on chicken bone, rather like a dog. The conversation drifted again, and much to Merlin’s dismay, a hand reached over once more, swiping a piece of meat from his plate.

It was Arthur. At least now Merlin knew the first time wasn’t a fluke. This was deliberate. Arthur was trying to punish him, but for what? All he had done was talk.

Talk.

Was that it? Did Arthur want him to be quiet?

But he had invited Merlin here to eat with his friends. He had practically dragged him here, kicking and screaming, and now he was trying to force him into silence? Why? What purpose could that serve?

He could feel Arthur’s eyes on him, staring. Merlin opened his mouth to respond to something Gwaine said, and saw that same hand reaching into his peripheral vision, this time taking another roll of bread.

Fine.

Arthur wanted him to be silent.

He’d be silent.

He’d behave and this would all stop.

Right?

Thankfully, after that, Arthur didn’t make any move to steal from him again, and Merlin was able to scoff down the meagre remains of his meal in peace.

The rest of the meal had a sour tone to it, and both Merlin and Arthur were in dour moods. The other knights, noticing the tension between the two, excused themselves and left the room. Soon, only Merlin and Arthur were left.

There was a silence. A long, empty, depressing silence.

“What did I do wrong,” blurted Merlin, at the exact moment the same words left Arthur’s lips.

Both stared at each other in bewilderment. “What are you talking about Merlin?” asked Arthur.

“You kept taking my food from me, and I don’t know why. What am I doing wrong? Do you not want me to speak at all? I will if that’s what you want. I just want all this to stop.”

“I wasn’t… I don’t understand. I was just trying to make you feel welcome,” said Arthur.

“By stealing from me?” snapped Merlin, anger finally bursting out of him.

“By sharing a meal with you!” exclaimed Arthur. “Do you not share meals in Ealdor?”

“Not like this.”

“Look, Merlin, I don’t know what it’s like in your hometown, but in Camelot sharing a meal is normal. The other knights and me always eat off each other’s plates. It’s just a kinship thing. What’s mine is yours, you know?”

“Then why were you staring at me the whole time like I’d done something wrong?”

“I was looking to see if you would do the same thing in return. I’m sorry Merlin. I truly didn’t know that this was a trigger for you.”

“It’s not a trigger,” barked Merlin. “It just brings back bad memories.”

“That’s the definition of a trigger dumbass.”

“Shut up.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, collecting up the plates from the table. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared moments later, having exchanged them for a plate of food. There was enough on there to make up for what Arthur taken, and then some. Grabbing Merlin by the shoulders, he sat him down at the table and set the dish in front of him.

“Here,” he said. “This is all yours. I promise I won’t take any of it.”

Merlin stared at Arthur, still worried that he might take it all away. Noticing his apprehension, Arthur pushed the plate closer to him. “It’s yours Merlin. I’m not having my servant go hungry.”

Merlin barely stopped to breathe as he wolfed it all down.

The next time Arthur demanded Merlin come to dinner (or invited him, as Arthur would so eloquently put it), Merlin couldn’t help but notice that Arthur and the knights kept their hands to themselves. He was secretly pleased, but said nothing, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction of knowing he had done something right for once in his life.

Across the table, Arthur smirked.

[enarmor]

“Ahh, another day, another batch of lovely ladies-” 

He gets two steps out of his room before fate reveals that it has other plans.

“Oop, ahah. Sorry! I almost didn’t see you there. You know, you sure are easy to miss.” 

An unassuming child stands in his way. Her eyes are vacant, and her face blank like an unwritten journal. A bit shorter than him, and far too young, she isn’t quite the type to handle a conversation about his ‘mature’ topics. At least, he assumes as much.

Sain has made a turn left after he exited his room, leading him in the direction of the other tenants–some of whom he happened to see on his way in. Where there are women, there is Sain. Even if it’s not love he’s after, pleasant conversation and a look at their pleasant faces can boost his mood in the face of a dour weekend. The scent of blood melds into that of roses, the sight of murder etched off by that of a fair maiden. To observe and uphold the tendencies of knighthood–that is his goal. 

Yet the girl is an obstacle to that goal. As he does with any obstacle, Sain moves through. He grabs her by both shoulders, gently guides her out of his path, shoots her a wink as he takes a step past–

And she’s there again. Blocking his path.

“Ah.” 

Could’ve sworn he moved her, but his eyes do not deceive. She is very much in the same spot she was just a few seconds prior. He tries moving left, but she’s there again. Right, nothing. And after a short sigh, he decides to give up. 

“Apologies, but could I trouble you to move? I’d like to give your gorgeous neighbor a warm welcome!”

//starter for @nabataprophet

✢⁎. mental darkness +20

[the-badger-mole]

Traditional Part 2

Sokka took extreme pleasure the next morning waking Zuko before the sun had a chance to. He walked into the Fire Lord’s room and unceremoniously ripped the warm blankets away from his body, exposing the still sleeping man to a rush of frigid air. 

“What is your problem?” Zuko complained, reaching for the blankets. Sokka held them out of his reach and shook his head smugly.

“We have to get an early start if we want to catch up with the sea-moose,” he tutted. “The faster we make a kill, the faster you can come back and be gross with my sister.” Zuko rolled his eyes and dragged himself from the warm pile of cushions and blankets that served as his bed, grumbling and complaining the entire time.

“You didn’t have to be so obnoxious about getting me up,” he muttered at Sokka. His friend shrugged carelessly. 

“I told you to get to bed early,” Sokka said. “You’re the one who stayed up past bedtime. Hope it doesn’t affect your tracking skills.” Sokka left Zuko to get dressed. Ten minutes later, Zuko tumbled into the main room, still bleary-eyed, but dressed in the heavy furs Hakoda had provided him with. Katara and Kanna were up, too, working in the kitchen area to fix breakfast and put the final touches on the hunter’s supply kits.To Zuko’s surprise, Bato was there as well, deep in conversation with Hakoda and Sokka about the hunting weapons laid out before them.

Zuko knew that Bato had been welcomed to join this hunt- a life of friendship and years of facing battles together had forged a bond between him and Hakoda as strong as blood. Still, when Hakoda had announced the hunt the day before, he had only said that Zuko would go with him and Sokka. Zuko assumed that meant that Bato and Pakku- who was noticeably absent- would not be joining them after all. Bato noticed his questioning look and shrugged. 

“Changed my mind,” he explained. Zuko nodded, then went over to Katara. He bowed slightly to Kanna.

“Good morning, Miss Kanna.” Kanna looked up at Zuko, her eyes flashing with something that he couldn’t identify, but he instinctively knew wasn’t positive. The old woman’s eyes flickered towards her granddaughter before she put on a wide smile and pinched Zuko’s good cheek with slightly more pressure than necessary. 

“Call me Gran Gran,” she said. “After all we’re going to be family soon. Assuming you come back with a kill, that is.”

“Stop it, Gran Gran,” Katara chided. “He’ll come back with plenty.” She beamed up at Zuko happily, and leaned up for a quick kiss as she slipped a warm mug of tea into his hands.

“Good morning,” he whispered. 

“Morning.”

“There they go again, being gross!” Sokka complained loudly. Zuko’s face flushed hotly, realizing he’d just kissed Katara in front of basically her whole family. Hakoda rolled his eyes, but Zuko found a surprise ally in Bato.

“They’re not anywhere near as bad as you and Suki,” Bato laughed. 

“Well, we’d better finish packing!” Hakoda jumped in, clapping his hands together with a resounding noise. Bato grinned mischievously, clearly not of a mind to let the topic go. 

“You want to talk in appropriate?” Bato fixed his friend with a pointed look. “I was there when you were courting Kya. Kanna, you remember how affectionate those two were?” Kanna’s mouth slowly curled into a sly smile. She did remember and she opened her mouth to say just how much-

“He’s just jealous!” Katara said, sticking her tongue out at her brother.

“Still,” Hakoda started to say. “It is a bit inappropriate to-”

“Is Master Pakku not joining us?” Zuko asked quickly. He thought he saw gratitude cross the Chief’s face briefly. 

“Sure he did,” Sokka scoffed. He turned to Zuko. “Grand Pakku isn’t much of a hunter. Listen, all you have to do is bring home a bigger kill than he did, and you’re set.”

“No, unfortunately he is in bed with gout,” Katara said. “He wanted to, though.”

“I’ll thank you to not insult my husband while he’s not here to defend himself,” Kanna said frostily. Sokka held his hands up appeasingly. 

“Alright, Gran Gran.I’ll just write them down and say it to his face later.” Kanna picked up an errant bit of jerky and threw it at her grandson. Sokka snatched it up and took a defiant bite. 

“The cheek of this generation!” Kanna lamented. “Hakoda, get your boy out of here before I turn him over my knee!”

“You heard the lady,” Hakoda said. “Eat your breakfast and lets get going.” The four men had a quick, but filling breakfast of salted fatback, stewed seaweed and strong, black tea. Then they loaded up their packs and weapons, and headed out into the dark morning in a flurry of well wishes and kisses from Katara and Kanna. 

Zuko was glad to see that the cold, bracing wind had stolen the ability to speak even the native born Southern Tribesmen. They trekked to the edge of town in complete silence. For Zuko’s sake, their pace was slow. The young man hadn’t quite mastered walking in the long, wide snow shoes he had been gifted. Zuko wasn’t out of shape by any stretch, but between adjusting to his new gait and the heavy pack he was carrying, he was already panting by the time they’d cleared the town.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Sokka said sympathetically. “Once we’ve hit the tundra, we won’t need these anymore.” Zuko nodded in acknowledgement, hoping they were close to the tundra.

They walked for another hour and a half before they reached the area where the tightly packed and frozen ground made it possible for them to travel without the snow shoes. By then, Zuko had become reasonably adept at walking on them, but he was nonetheless glad to pull them off. 

The sun had risen by then, and the long walk had warmed the men enough for conversation. 

“Hunting is a rite of passage for young boys in our tribe,” Hakoda told Zuko. The further they got from the bustling village, the less dour the chief looked. He had even smiled at Zuko a few times.

“I’ve been hunting before,” Zuko said, a bit shyly. “But never for big game. It was...it was while Uncle and I were on the run.” Sokka shot him a glance from the corner of his eye. He’d long since forgiven Zuko for that part of his life, but it was a time that was rarely alluded to in Hakoda’s presence. But the older man just hummed thoughtfully and glanced back at Zuko.

“Did you catch anything?” he asked. Zuko was grateful for the thick scarf covering his face against the arctic chill. 

“Rarely,” he admitted. “A few jackalopes. A couple of iron jaw turtles. Once I managed to catch a mynah pigeon.” 

“Not bad for someone with no training.” Bato- having already lowered his hood- eyed Zuko with something akin to respect. “I’ve had to catch jackalopes for a meal myself. They aren’t easy.”

“Still, they’re no great-tusked sea-moose,” Sokka said with a superior smirk. Hakoda chuckled and shook his head at his son fondly (Zuko swallowed hard against a sudden sharp pain at the base of his throat).

“That’s true, they’re not,” Hakoda agreed. “And when you’ve brought one down, I’ll be very proud of you.”

“Hey!” Sokka protested. “I’ve brought one down! Remember? It was right after we all came home from the Fire Nation.”

“Oh, I remember that,” Hakoda chuckled. “You tripped and nearly startled the sea-moose away.”

“I was distracting it!” Sokka insisted. “I scared it with my leaping polar dog impression and gave the others an opening to kill it.” Hakoda and Bato threw their heads back and laughed at that.

“It was a distraction alright!” Hakoda said, wiping tears of mirth away from his eyes,

“I almost peed myself!” Bato chortled. He clapped Sokka hard on the back. “It was a miracle we managed to catch the thing at all!” Zuko started laughing a moment later, not as loud as Hakoda and Bato, but enough to break some of the tension that had been weighing on him since his ship left the Fire Nation. Finally, Sokka joined the laughter, too. So, this was male bonding?

“Alright, alright,” Sokka said sarcastically a few moments later. “So I didn’t actually get my spear in. But I was part of the team! That’s what matters.” Then Sokka turned to his father, his blue eyes wide with childish hope, and said, “Right, Dad?”

Hakoda’s face rippled with amusement, but he managed to keep a mostly straight face. He grasped his son’s shoulder and met his hopeful gaze. 

“Son, on Tui and La,” he said solemnly. “We will make sure you actually kill something this hunt.” Sokka squawked indignantly. Zuko tugged down his scarf and smirked at Sokka. 

“So, I’m a better hunter than you, huh?” 

“You are absolutely not,” Sokka shouted. “I was the one who did all the hunting while we were training Aang.”

“Really?” Zuko’s brow quirked, his smirk widened, and he went in for his first kill of the trip. “Katara told me that you guys mostly ate vegetarian unless you could buy meat.” The response was exactly what Zuko had hoped. Sokka’s face went bright red, and he sputtered furiously. 

“She said what?” he finally managed to yell. “I’ll have all of you know that we ate just fine! I caught plenty!”

“Sokka, calm down,” Hakoda motioned for his son to settle down. “Zuko was just teasing...I think?” He glanced over at Zuko with a questioning look. Zuko shrugged, feeling more playful than he had ever felt outside of Katara’s presence. 

“I’m just repeating what I heard,” he said. “I’ve never seen you hunt.” 

“That’s it!” Sokka wagged a mitten clad hand beneath Zuko’s nose. “It’s on, now! Who ever gets first spear is the best hunter.” 

“Boys, boys,” Bato stepped between the pair with an amused grin. “Settle down. We’re all friends here.” 

 “Sorry, Bato,” Sokka said.

“Yeah, sorry,” Zuko echoed. Bato nodded approvingly. 

“Now, now,” Bato grinned at the three men. “There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition among friends. And what these young men seem to be forgetting is that there is more to hunting than just the first spear.”

“Good,” he said. “Now, what you two seem to be forgetting is that there is more to hunting than just the first spear.”

“And here he goes...” Hakoda threw his hands up in defeat. 

“There’s also tracking, identifying our target, maintenance, and of course, the first spear,” Bato continued as if Hakoda hadn’t spoken. “If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it right. One point for each point. Whoever has the most points at the end of the hunt is officially the best hunter.” 

“Bato, this was supposed to be a friendly hunting trip,” Hakoda shook his head. Bato snorted and waved his hand. 

“Bato, don’t start,” Hakoda huffed. 

“You just wanted to scare the Fire Lord into promising to take care of your little girl,” he turned to Zuko. “You promise to take care of Katara and make her as happy as possible?”

“O-of course,” Zuko stammered, blinking in surprise. 

“Great!” Bato said. “And you understand that if you screw up, there’s not a team of bodyguards or a firebending move in the world that would stop us and Kanna from coming for you?”

“Erm...yes?” Zuko’s shoulders were as close to his ears as his heavy clothes would allow.

“Good answer!” Bato turned Hakoda and gestured for him to go next. “You have any more questions for the kid?” Hakoda rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“I’m good,” he said. 

“Fantastic!” Bato turned back to Zuko and Sokka. “May the best hunter win.” 

*.*.*.*.*

Zuko won the first challenge. Within a few hours of the bet, he spotted drag marks in the hard packed snow heading towards a small cove in the distance. Something heavy had pulled itself over the ground. The tracks seemed to be a few days old based on the fresh dusting of snow in the grooves. Still, it proved that the men were on the right track. Hakoda grasped Zuko’s shoulder and smiled proudly at him. 

“Nice work, son,” he said. Despite losing, Sokka also nudged Zuko encouragingly. Still, he could resist getting in one jab.

“I guess it was all that practice tracking us for a year,” he said, making a face at Zuko. 

“Or I just have better focus than you,” Zuko shot back. “You’re like a gopher terrier. You get distracted every time you see a squirrel.” 

“Oi, now you wait just at-”

“Look, a squirrel!” Zuko pointed off in the distance, and burst into real laughter when Sokka turned to see more empty tundra. 

“Listen, you-”

“He got you, son,” Hakoda laughed. “You have to accept it.” 

“Your dad was the same way at your age,” Bato said. “Could hardly get him to focus on anything.”

“And yet I still managed to beat you at bones every time!” Hakoda said. 

“What’s bones?” Zuko asked. 

“It’s sort of like Pai Sho, I guess,” Sokka explained. “Except when your opponent corners your piece, you get three chances to find a way out of the trap. Also, the board is triangle shaped, instead of square. And you only get ten pieces. Actually, it’s not really like Pai Sho at all.”

“We’ll teach you to play when we get home,” Hakoda promised. Bato grunted in agreement. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes as he scanned the horizon. 

“The sun’ll be going down in a bit,” he said. “We should set up camp here, I think.” The others agreed, and they set up camp in a small gap in the base of the sea cliffs. It was just wide enough for their tent and a good sized fire, which Zuko graciously ignited. Then they got ready for the evening. Bato made a stew with the rations Katara and Kanna had packed and Hakoda set to work laying out the furs and blankets that would make the tent livable, while Zuko and Sokka inspected their gear. 

Hey, Prince Pouty,” Sokka jabbed his chin towards Zuko. “Make yourself useful and pass me the sharpener.” Zuko rolled his eyes and handed Sokka the whetstone he’d asked for.

“I’ve been Fire Lord for eight years now,” he reminded Sokka. “Can you at least call me Zuko?”

“I knew you when you were forgetting the punch lines to stupid tea puns,” Sokka snorted. “Keep the whining to a minimum, okay?” They sat in silence for a while. Sokka snuck what Zuko could only imagine were supposed to be furtive glances at him. 

“Would you either tell me what’s wrong with you, or commission a portrait?” Zuko said at last. 

“So, this is really happening?” Sokka said, somewhat quietly. “You’re going to marry my little sister?”  Zuko felt the tip of his ear heat up. 

“If she’ll have me,” he mumbled. He smiled to himself, remembering how Katara had literally leapt into his arms when he’d finally asked her to marry him. The smile was quickly chased away by a frown, and he looked up at Sokka. “Does that bother you?” 

“Not really,” Sokka said slowly. “I mean...not for the reasons you might be thinking. I knew you two would probably end up here eventually. Even before you started dating. SInce Ember Island, before the war ended, I think.” Zuko blinked in surprise.

“That long?” he asked, incredulously. Ember Island was almost a decade ago. Sure Zuko had had a bit of a crush on Katara, but marrying her was the furthest thing from his mind then. 

“Yeah.” Sokka sighed and lay his weapon down. “I think Toph and I were the only ones who noticed, but you two just seemed to always gravitate towards each other. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you two so long.”

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Zuko asked, uncomprehendingly. Sokka sighed again and ran his hand over his head.

“It’s not you,” he said. “Really, it’s not. I know you’ll do your best by Katara. I’m just...worried about everyone else.” 

“Everyone else?”

“Yeah, you know. Your people. Your advisors. All the FIre Nation folks who just stopped being fed 100 years of xenophobic propaganda. Are they ready to have a Water Tribe woman- a waterbender at that- as one of their rulers?” 

Zuko wished he could alay Sokka’s fears or write them off, but the truth was, he and Katara had discussed the potential difficulties of their marriage at length. Zuko almost didn’t propose because he thought it was too selfish to ask Katara to stay under those circumstances. But he and Katara had kept coming back to the same conclusion. They’d rather face those inevitable trials together than to settle into easier lives apart. Zuko said as much to Sokka. 

“I love Katara,” he said. “I love her enough to let her go if she decides- at any point- that this is all too much for her. I...We know it won’t be easy, but after everything we’ve been through together it just seems crazy not to try.” 

“Calm down, Sparky,” Sokka laughed weakly. “You two aren’t Oma and Shu.” Zuko snorted. 

“I hope not,” he said. “Things didn’t end great for them.” Sokka eyed Zuko appraisingly for a moment. 

“Alright,” he said. “I know Katara, and she wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t really love you. And she’ll go through with this, no matter who is stupid enough to try to tell her she can’t. But...you have to understand. She’s my sister. For a long time, she was all I had. I’m  always going to be a little worried.” Zuko turned his gaze out onto the water and watched the waves lap at the shore line in the distance. Spirits, he missed Katara.

“If it helps at all,” he said slowly. “Uncle doesn’t think it’ll be as bad as we’re preparing for.”

“Your Uncle is as blindly optimistic as Aang,” Sokka scoffed. “Of course he’d say that.”

“Uncle is an optimist,” Zuko agreed with a chuckle. “But that man is almost never wrong. The Fire Nation is gaining some major points with the other world leaders because I’m marrying a foreigner instead of consolidating more power within the FIre Nation. The trading rights you and your dad are giving me is going to help with our economy. Not to mention that outside of the noble families, most of the Fire Nation loves Katara. More than me, I think.” 

“No kidding?” Sokka’s mouth picked up at one corner in a proud smirk. “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. Katara has a knack for winning people over.”

“She sure does.” Zuko agreed, feeling as proud. “She helped so many people. It wasn’t even her job as Ambassador. She just saw needs and she met them. All the schools and hospitals I was able to open? That never would have happened without Katara.” Sokka let out a low whistle. Katara had told him about her accomplishments, but she had way undersold herself. She had made it sound like she was inconsequential to the process- maybe picking out where schools would be built or having meet and greets with the doctors who would run the hospitals, but to hear Zuko talk, it was as if Katara had been acting as Fire Lady for years. Which, Sokka reflected, was probably not far from the truth. 

“That’s our Katara,’ he chuckled. “She never turns her back on people who need her.”

“Lucky for us all,” Zuko said. 

Part 1, Part 2,   Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

[sunmoonchanlix]

sorry if you already answered this or something similar but what do you hope happens in chanlix’s upcoming 2 kids room episode (in a perfect world) and what do you think it’ll actually be like? in terms of dialogue topic/tone/body language? thanks!! ~Newbie anon

Hello!

In a perfect scenario, they film last and are the last episode so it can give people enough time to gear up for something monumental. And they're both super happy and constantly laughing and smiling talking about their real bond while being very physically affectionate. And the other members finally fess up about them as a couple.

Realistically though... the duo will probably just subtly talk about a day they had and vaguely answer that their bond is as strong as ever. The members will probably nitpick their relationship to make it seem like Felix is annoyed by Chan. They will barely do any physical affection even though Chan might try. Chan will still be all smiles, but Felix will probably not be able to maintain eye contact and will look dour and will mask his nerves by over-correcting his facial expressions to look like he's just so over Chan and wants to stop filming. And it will probably be one of the shortest episodes because the editing team keeps cutting.

Thanks for the Ask!

[mytwistedhome]

Diasomnia members when they find out you have Anorexia

Trigger warning to anyone who suffers with an eating disorder!!

It’s one of those nights again... Writing these headcanons to give myself some solace. 

I hope this can maybe bring comfort to someone else, or at least provide some bit of entertainment. My intention is not to cause harm or trigger anyone. That is the last thing I want.

This time, these headcanons are for Diasomnia members. I’ve already posted ones for Pomefiore and Ignihyde (of which you can see on my blog, if you desire), and the other dorms will likely be posted the next time I need some self cheer-up.

I swear I’ll have some proper writings up tomorrow, and even more by the end of the week. And, I intend to keep my promises this time. Sorry, I’m really not much of an angel if I’m being honest. I sincerely apologize to the friends and the requesters of whom I’ve neglected. You don’t deserve to wait and wait just to see me break a promise and go back on my word. That’s entirely my fault, and with my whole heart, I am sorry.

💚

Malleus Draconia

So this is how humans hate themselves? How horrifically graceful...

Not gonna lie, he romanticizes the idea quite a bit at first

He watches with a morbid curiosity as you quickly grow thinner and thinner day after day, and how you stumble around weakly in a constant dizzy state

He finds it fascinating how a weak human can withstand such torture brought onto them by themselves

It really is odd, isn’t it?

You, a human, already bound to die after several years of life, are hurting yourself even further

You are so delicate... He's really enthralled. It's so strange how you hurt yourself in a sickly yet gracious way, and he cannot help but watch from afar

But, he knows that he cannot simply watch you forever as you kill yourself

He sees how much you are hurting and suffering, and he grows incredibly sad for you

You don't deserve to go through such pain. What ever made you decide to do this?

He can't possibly imagine what it must be like, and he becomes mournful over you

And he's now determined to bring you help, some way, somehow...

He tries to confront you about it. On those nights when the two if you run into each other outside the Ramshackle dorm, he'll make vague, elusive references to your starving yourself

The way he goes about it is oddly beautiful. He says things like "it's been several days since we've talked like this. You've grown thinner from before," and "it's often lonely and empty, the day's without you, much like how your stomach goes empty," or "you always seemed mesmerized by my abilities, particularly when I vanish from your eyes, but isn't it the same when you float through life in a dazed state of mind? From that dizziness brought on by hunger?"

And you're left with your mouth wide open, absolutely stunned. He knows. Somehow, he knows

But you still play dumb, wondering what in earth he means, knowing all too well what it is he means...

Malleus sighs sadly. The look on his face is incredibly hopeless and pitiful (and for a moment, you feel guilty for having brought him to such an emotion) before he crossed his arms and his look turns dour. He's done dancing around this topic

He's very straightforward now, telling you sternly that you need to stop this. Stop hurting yourself, stop killing yourself

He tries not to let his own feelings show, but his jaw softens and his lower lip trembles every now and then

You become overwhelmed with sadness, guilt, and self-hatred. Those are the exact emotions that Malleus was trying not to stir, but you just can't help it as he scolds you so seriously. Just how long had he known? How long had he been watching and worrying over you?

When he's done speaking, you let out a wretched gasp as you clutch your chest, your heart palpitating from the overflow of emotions, and the hunger, and the sudden movement

Malleus reaches out to you, his hands clutching your arms and steadying you on your feet as your knees buckle

He stares at you wide-eyed in shock, unable to say another word. He knows that you are weak and your health is poor, but what caused you to react in such a way just now?

Your stomach feels as if it's caving inwards, and a coldness spreads throughtout your body

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. You know that Malleus is worried for you, and you didn't mean to make him worry, but you really just wish he didn't know... That this could still just be your secret and you would get help on your own when you're ready

Oh, god... this didn't help. Somehow, this whole confrontation triggered you. Now you just want to starve yourself even more, continuing this way forever

But Malleus won't let that happen, even if it hurts you (as in, emotionally) to stop. Continuing this way would break his heart

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia’s been around. He knows how serious eating disorders can get. I’m sure he’s seen other who have suffered or even died from it.

Actually, he was the one who suspected that you had anorexia

He noticed how you would pick apart your food before eating, how you chew so slowly, and how you are always eager to leave the meal table

Not to mention how you almost cower away in fear when certain foods are offered to you

Also not to mention how you gaze longingly at other people's plates

To him, it's obvious because he can pick up on all the subtle signs.

Confronting you is a bit tricky... He really doesn't know how to approach you about it in a way that will make you open up

When he's around you, he'll begin to ask you questions in concern

He'll often ask you if you're okay, if you're feeling alright, etc. You always lie

He knows you're lying, but he won't mention it. He'll just continue to ask if you're doing okay with sincerity every time he's around you

Eventually, you begin to realize that he is someone who might very genuinely care about you, and you are very touched by his concern. No one has ever been so worried about you before

One day, when the two of you are alone, you say something like "I'm actually not okay..."

And then you vent to him for a very long time

You even start to cry

He keeps silent through your venting, but he listens intently to every word you have to say

When you're done, he gives you a sad smile and tries his best to console you

He lets you know that you can reach out to him anytime you need

Overtime, he convinces you to seek help and receive actual treatment and recovery

Probably the most successful of all the guys in putting you on the road to recovery!

Silver

He is very taken aback

Truly, he doesn't know what to say or what to do

He immediately feels so, so bad for you... His heart mourns for all the suffering you must have been going through

He tries to be sympathetic... He really does

But at the same time, he's a bit worried about getting involved. How are you going to react to his knowing? Will you really take kindly to his concern? Or, will you push him away, as is so common a symptom of this disease?

He subtly watches you as you eat your meals. He's quite good at watching without making it seem so, and he uses this skill to keep an eye on you in concern

He sees how you cut your food into tiny pieces, how you push it around in your dish, hardly ever bringing the fork to your lips...

And his heart breaks. How pitiful it is to see you like this

He wishes he could just reach his arms out and somehow save you, help you... But that wouldn't work, would it? This is a very real problem; he can't just save you in a fanciful way, no matter how badly he wishes

He gathers the courage to approach you about it, just to let you know that he's aware of your struggle and that he's willing to listen if ever you need to talk to someone

He sits down beside you after classes one day as you're doing a bit of studying/reading. You what's you to feel as comfortable as possible, not like he's pushing you to open up if you aren't ready

You smile when you see him come close, happy to have his company

Well, this seems like it's off to a good start!

The two of you exchange a few words of warm conversation, but then a silence falls, and you see Silver's face darken, turning into a sad expression

And, after a bit of hesitation, he tells you that he knows... He knows how you starve yourself, and how you suffer, but assures you that all he wants is to help and be there for you

You are quite stunned, only staring at him blankly, unsure of what to say

It certainly cought you off guard, having him say it just like that...

After a moment, you thank him for his offer and for his concern, and you really do appreciate it

But... You are still very alarmed

You excuse yourself and head back to your firm, trying to take this all in

How long had he known...? You knew he was trustworthy and kind, but you weren't sure if you weren't sure if you wanted to let him in to such a private and major part of your life

From then on, you begin avoiding him, not wanting to let him in. It hurts him to see you hide away from him, but he expected this to happen

But then, one day, you are having it particularly rough, and you feel so miserable... You call Silver, just to hear his voice. Just to have some company. Just to feel like you aren't alone.

And he does everything he can to comfort you, listening intently to all you have to say

He doesn't push you to eat, or urge you to get help, he is just... there. And that is all you could ever ask for

He continues to be the friend of whom you seek out for comfort, and Silver is happy to be there for you whenever you need

Sebek Zigvolt

He finds out after he catches you in his arms upon your fainting

He's used to Silver falling asleep at random, but the way that you wobbled across the room, shuffling your feet and swaying as you tried to walk in a straight line, then spinning as your eyes rolled back, trying to find your balance as you babbled out incoherent sounds before sinking to the ground...

He's certainly not used to that. It terrified him to see you in such a state, and that fear turned into overwhelming worry for your well-being

He had rushed to your side before your head clashed with the hard ground. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders as your head tilted back onto his chest

He gazes at you with absolute panic, his mouth agape and eyes wide with fear

He tries to shake you awake, but your head just bobs and your arms fall limply at your side, your legs having already given out entirely

In panic, he shouts for help while also loudly urging you to get up, wake up, and stand on your own two feet

Luckily, his voice was heard by a couple others (probably just Lilia or another elder student) who come rushing into the room

They see you passed out with your sickly pale and gaunt face, and they advise Sebek to immediately take you to the school's infirmary, to which he promptly obeys and carries you there

He leaves you in the care of the nurses, and the whole time that the two of you are parted, his mind is reeling with worry

He can't bring himself to relax at all. He's all strained and stressed over you! He's unimaginably worried. He really wants you to be alright...

When you finally return to your consciousness, Sebek is one of the first to know, and he immediately rushes to wherever you are, regardless if you're still feeling dreary

He, very loudly, bombards you with questions as he tries to make sure that you are alright

He's still in a bit of a panic... Are you sure that you're okay?

You assure him that you're feeling fine now as you chew and swallow your 180 calorie granola bar

Sebek is relieved, but now he's demanding answers. How did you pass out in such a scary way? What happened then? What's going on with you?

Your head starts to spin once again at his pressing questions. You can't just tell him that you don't eat

Like with Epel, you try to make excuses. First, you try telling him that you were just overheated

Sebek doesn't buy that; he explains to you that you felt cold to the touch and had goosebumps all over your body when he caught you in his arms

You then try to say that you are anemic

That could be true, but now Sebek knows you are lying, and he presses you even further

Tears start to well up in your eyes. You don't want to come forward with this secret!

But he keeps pushing you with his loud voice... You can tell that he cares, and you feel bad for making him worry so much

Maybe you can trust him...

On the condition of him keeping his voice down, you tell him. You tell him that you fainted because you purposefully don't eat enough

He doesn't take it too well... He actually grows angry

How could you do such a thing to yourself???

You beg him to please, please calm down. You try to explain to him that this is something you can't really help...

After you briefly try to explain, his brows furrow together, as if in a glare, but his eyes are so full of sorrow

His chest tightens in pain and pity... Pity and sorrow for you. That's what he feels. And helpless, as well, to your suffering

He pushes you to get help, urging you every single day

He wants to help more. He wants you to just be okay. Why can't you just wake up and not have this problem anymore? Why do you have to be this way?

But he feels like there's nothing else he can do...