#suddenly she's all alone. the only semblance of someone who cared and knew her having suddenly abandoned her

[thebleedingeffect]

One of these days I gotta talk about Hylia because I have very particular feelings about her that fall beyond simple white and black lines. On one hand, I just do not think she's quite able to wrap her mind around mortality and she is far removed from normal scales of time and humanity. But on the other hand, I don't think she's as absent and objective as the golden goddesses as she does have a degree of understanding humanity thanks to her constant proximity to humans. She's capable of making human mistakes and has desires of her own, but I do not think she's able to wrap her mind properly around morality and more standard lenses of what's right and wrong.

She's like a fucked up mix of a chosen goddess and someone who has taken the rough shape of a human and as such, embodies both the worst and best parts of each.

[ranbitteeth]

hiii i love ur art and ur fics!!🫶🏽

im desperateee for a reader rails mizu w strap fic😭😭 all the smut i see are of reader bottoming and that makes me hella dysphoric sigh

so so like reader stretching mizu out, lots of whimpering, mizu being nervous, mizu feeling full and claimed, just messy subby mizu taking big strap for the first time plssss😭😭😭😭 maybe some pussy eating foreplay idk, whatever u find best and fun to write. i just need mizu to be a subby bottom its plaguing my mind😵‍💫

A/N: Your wish is my command, dearest! Hhmmm I can never really tell if you guys want a modern/cannon compliant setting— but I find my words flowing easier for the latter. If this isn’t to your liking, I can always write another one! More modern and fluffy

Tags: Possessive!Reader, GN!Reader, Reader is besties w Madame Kaji, DomTop! Reader, Jealous! Reader, Straps, Tried to be historically accurate but one can only do so much research on ancient japanese dildos, takes place sometime before Mizu hops in the boat, Goodbye Sex, Misery.

About 3.8k word count, so I’ll highlight the beginning of the actual smut in red and a star! *

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Parting Ways— To London You Go

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You despised him.

The Blue Eyed Beast of Japan. The onryo. The bastard half-breed that killed the Four Fangs and cut through the Shindo Dojo. Now that was a man that deserved a dog’s death. A humiliating, painful, wretched thing— so much so that pity would spread like disease among even the most hardened of men. A white man had no business in your country. Much less some impure dog, chasing ghosts of white men who had long since fled the island paradise. You believed this yourself, once. The village gossip and fantasies of his approaching death entertained you, excited you. You’d hear of his dishonorable death one evening and you’d think —‘good riddance’.

But no one told you just how much of a darling he was.

You remembered that night to picture clear, the image of his slumped body in the snow so clear in your eyes and memory. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, eyes screwed shut beneath the colored lenses of his glasses— he reeked of blood even in the snowstorm.

Unbeknownst to your family, you brought him inside, ordered your guards to gently place his body in your quarters. The servants made no protest when they saw your insistence on saving this stranger. The wound was seeping a crimson poison onto your floor, red and hot and stinking of blood.

The two of you were alone when his eyelids fluttered open, pained grunts and whimpered muffled by his own teeth against his bottom lip. And you saw it. Blue eyes— unnatural, wrong, and positively lovely. You’ve seen oceans and ponds and skies with less of a dazzling hue. It disgusted you, initially, as the realization of who he was suddenly and violently appeared in your mind.

You hadn’t expected someone so…normal looking.

He did not have a pig’s nose or clammy, sun-abused skin. He was not a beast, giant and ugly— but a man. An injured man, you recalled once his blood stained your palm. Stained your floor, your bed and his clothes. You distantly realized your hands were moving on their own as they undid the binds of his old kimono, and there, beneath the worn, filthy fabric were binds. Not of injury, not of a warrior— but of shame.

Alone in your chambers on a cold winter night amidst the worst storm you’ve ever seen— you knew. The blue-eyed, vicious animal that had earned all of Kyoto’s scorn was in fact a woman.

You adored her.

Your home grew to be a sanctuary to her of sorts. For a being so well despised by the nation, the comforts you provided were scarce luxuries. A bed. A roof. Some semblance of protection. You cared after her like one would a feral pet, a feat which did not go unnoticed. With a blade to your neck and blood painting her hands, she demanded your silence— a vow to never break. As if you’d risk losing such a treasure to the hands of bounty hunters of white men.

The two of you danced with hate for months.

She was a silent spirit, a brewing storm on the distant horizon. At times, you’d catch her eyes on you, other times, she’d notice you doing the same. At times, you’d reach your hand forward and caress the scars on her skin. At times, she’d allow you to– going so far as to present herself.

At times, you’d make love to her. Your depravity was no secret to anyone with ears and working eyes— but your status and wealth made you untouchable. No one but your servants would hear her cries echo from your chambers, and no one but you would see her in the throes of pleasure, head tossed back, expression screwed into one of hesitant bliss and ecstasy.

Or so you thought.

She often returns to you like a dog would weeks after leaving. Loyal, endearing and silent. Whether it was out of some misplaced desire of courtesy or a genuine attachment, you did not know. You’d tell yourself you did not care, but Man would never be born without sin. Madame Kaji, the wonderful hag, would bewitch you in letters with tales of her ladies in the delights her brothel would offer. She mentioned a certain blue-eyed beast in her company in her most previous message. Her letter was pointed, concise, and utterly enraging. By its contents, you would piece together your Mizu’s night with a princess– of all wretched things. After months of silence, alone in your palace with no one but the one and off prostitutes you’d hire and the servants you paid deftly for their loyalty, and the samurai goes off to bed and abandone a lady princess of the Tokunobu clan.

Mizu would not show her face to you until spring. By then, your anger had solidified and festered into an untamable typhoon. As your servants led her to your chambers, Mizu would be standing dead-center in the eye of your storm. Something in her was different. Stronger, yet weaker. Kinder, yet crueler.

“You show your face here again?” You ask cooly, and at least she had the decency to look ashamed, removing her hat. Like this, you could see her properly. (You’d never admit to your anger cooling, but it did.) She does not harden her voice in your presence, but it is quiet, timid, shameful. Before she could open her mouth to speak, one of your servant men approach, head bowed deeply.

“[Title and Name]”, he’d say. Your eyes glance over to him, humming as you granted permission to speak.

“There is a white man inside, bound and immobilized.” He says quickly, bowing his head deeper.

“I only wished for you to be aware.”

Your cold, steely eyes turn to fix Mizu with a chilling stare. She only looks at you head on, taking the challenge. Oh…

“Leave us.” You say, but not before giving an order to boil water over a fire. The door is smoothly slid shut, and the two of you are under the illusion of solitude once more.

“I am to depart for London soon.” Mizu says bluntly, abruptly. You couldn’t have expected anything less. You give no reaction save for a short sigh and two fingers against your temple.

“I am closer to my mission than ever before. I have an informant, I have a boat, I have names.” She talks as if to explain herself, stepping closer in light footsteps, hesitant. “I may not survive through this. I only wished to say goodbye before I leave.”

For a moment, you say nothing. Your mouth is rendered useless as your mind rushes with curses. To the world, to the white men, to Japan, to Mizu, to the hellsite that was London itself. The poisonous concoction of rage and envy that had been brewing for months was bubbling and prickling beneath your skin– only now with the addition of grief.

“This would have been much more convenient in scripture,” you say, voice like hot iron. Mizu’s surprise is tangible, eyes flickering around your features, searching for answers to her questions.

“I adore letters. You know this.” You begin to say, moving from your initial position and circling the room, retrieving several items and placing them on the large expanse of your sleeping bed. You open a box, massive with weight. Inside is parchment, pounds of it. “I collect them.”

You suddenly and harshly shove the box onto the floor, a flurry of parchment and ink spilling at your feet. Mizu seems to shrink, but refuses to cower. Gingerly, you retrieve one excerpt sent just a few months ago from Madame Kaji. You hand it to Mizu, surrounding her. You wait until you are certain she understands what she is reading before you begin to speak.

“Never took you as the brothel-dwelling type.” You say, watching as those demonic, off-putting, oh-so-lovely eyes scan the characters on paper. Your eyes stick to her lips before you remind yourself why you are angry. You imagined those lips entangled with another, and your blood goes cold.

“Nothing happened between me and the princess.” Mizu says, turning to face you. The genuine confusion in her expression is almost insulting. “She meant to kill me that night. Our duel meant nothing. Madame Kaji knows nothing that is true.”

“Not every conflict between you and a stranger is a duel and Madame Kaji is a dear friend of mine.” You reply easily. The hurt in your voice was becoming clearer with each passing syllable.

“You truly believe sailing the seas will come so easy? Do you know how many men I’ve lost in my trades on those voyages? Do you even know what awaits you in London?” You begin to demand these answers, losing the control you pride yourself in as you continue to speak. As a man and a woman, Mizu was nothing but a stupid, lost soul, wandering the earth without an object to attach to. You then gently cup her face in both hands, watching in delight as she melts into your touch.

*“Do you even know how much I’ve wanted you these past months?”

Mizu cannot answer. Her hands raise over yours, fingers brushing against your warmer ones.

“I meant no harm in my absence.” She concedes, round eyes rising to meet with yours. Just like that, the room had shifted. Your eyes darken as they raked along her face and figure, recalling what lay beneath the layers upon layers of fabric she’d use to protect herself.

“You can’t imagine…” You whine, gently undoing the bandages around her neck to expose the delectable skin that lay beneath. Untouched, unseen by all but few. You bury your nose into the crook of her neck before your tongue darts out just to taste flesh and the blood that pumped beneath. Mizu sighs, noticeably relaxing into you. Her arms move to wrap around your neck in a gentle embrace, a position you’ve grown to love and grieve for.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you…” you say, assisting Mizu’s hands and hurriedly undoing her kimono before your hands run hungrily along her skin. Scars, so many more than you remember. A different rage boiled inside of you, protective and not directed to Mizu in the slightest. The two of you move in sync of tangled limbs and warm breaths against open lips. You push her onto your cot, the rage you had felt previously spilling out in the form of hunger. You attack her neck with the teeth in your mouth, suckling and biting down on her white-man skin until cherry-red marks bloom across her neck. She whimpers, coyly craning her neck and exposing herself further– presenting herself. Begging for it. Gods.

“You were away so long I’d almost forgotten what a whore you are…” you coo, undressing her wholly, spreading her legs around either side of your hips. As a surprise to no one, you noticed the particular shininess to the downy hairs on her wet cunt, groaning softly at the sight. Her smell, her taste, her color– you’d spend innumerable nights recalling these things in exquisite detail, going so far as to seek her in other women and finding not one suitable substitution. Your hunger had been building up for months, and now here she was, just as enticing as you remember her. Her teeth nibble down on her finger as she groans into the air.

“[Reader], I haven’t..” she starts, but you shush her before she can continue. Her loyalty only endeared you to her further, and you wanted to remain somewhat angry.

“I know, puppy. You already know who you belong to, don’t you?” You murmured, practically salivating at the sight of her glistening pussy. A whine catches in her throat, allowing you to see in real time her strength and tenacity fail her beneath you. The demon man was nowhere to be found here. You tamed that spirit and contained her in your chambers. You reduced it from a spirit to a man to a moaning, wanton little tart.

“Keep your legs spread and I’ll give you what you came here for.” You order swiftly, to which she nods and complies, spreading her legs further apart. You eagerly adjust your position so that you are resting on your stomach, Mizu’s thighs on either side of your head and your mouth just above her wet cunt. With only an aroused groan as a warning, your tongue descends onto her slick folds, eagerly lapping up the wetness that coated her lovely skin. It was positively obscene, the color and taste of her, the slurping sounds across the room and her whimpering cries as months of stress and anger fell away under your tongue. The poor thing couldn’t even keep her thighs from squeezing around your head, effectively trapping you against her pussy— but it was no matter. Your tongue swirled and massaged what it could reach while the tip of your nose rutted against her clit. Slowly, surely, readily— her raspy, hoarse voice bloomed into something far sweeter, and you could feel the ice around your heart melting. This was the Mizu you knew, without the clothes and glasses and false identity. This Mizu was the one you owned.

You feel her getting close, as it was always obvious with her. You felt her thighs squeezing around your head, felt them shake and tense while her hips bucked against you and her breathing grew more desperate. You feel it, she feels it— she wants it so bad she sobs into her palm. You both know better.

You pull away with a wet, obscene sound, ignoring Mizu’s frustrated groan into her fist. Your lips and chin are wet with her taste and both of your bodies are shining with sweat.

“What? Were you close?” You ask huskily, readjusting yourself so that your body hovers over hers, your fingers pushing in and out of her gushing warmth. You start with two, massaging her insides into relaxation, molding her to your desires. She impatiently pushes her hips against you, holding you in a desperate embrace. You do not hurry, you don’t even respond as you take her lips in yours, letting her taste herself coating your tongue. It was a messy, depraved display— one that made her noticeably wetter around your fingers. Her nails claw into the fabric over your body, tugging it off.

“Take yours off too…” she says in between breaths, eyes half lidded and watery with want.

“You think you can take it already?” You ask slowly, dead serious. Mizu nods, a slow and deliberate thing. Who are you to argue now?

“It’s bigger than the other one. You sure?” You ask again, making slow, hard motions against her wet clit.

“[Reader]…” she gasps, carrying a note of exasperation, her hands now trembling against you. “Please…!”

You laugh, breathless, exhilarated. Your lips gently press against her forehead, a soft ‘wait here’ and a quick trip to the corner of your bedroom later, you retrieve it.

You commissioned this piece long before you knew Mizu would return. Your very own harigata, hard as a tortoise shell, ribbed and heavy in size and weight. You expressed your desire to be able to attach it to yourself to please your lovers and so the artist complied. You held it up with one hand, allowing Mizu to gauge at the weight and size before stuffing it with warm cotton dipped in the previously boiled water at your side. Mizu hasn’t even noticed the servant come in, far too immersed in watching you align the phallus to her soaking cunt. She feels the heat through the tortoise shell and whimpers, hips trembling before she spreads her legs further apart. The head was already pushing against her hole, oh so ready to slip inside. Just as you mean to push yourself in, Mizu makes a strangled little noise and you cease in your tracks.

“Yes?” You ask, already breathless.

“It’s big…” she says, repeating the words you said earlier. You laugh, endeared.

“Yes. You want it smaller?” You ask again, but she shakes her head no.

She licks her dried lips before she swallows. “Don’t hold back.”

Unable to control yourself, you laugh, head falling beneath your shoulders and against her collarbone. Fuck.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You feel her nervousness in the tension of her body. As aroused as she was, it had been some time since she’s seen you. You begin with slow, shallow thrusts to get her accustomed to the feel, not going halfway until you hear her get noticeably impatient.

“Hold on, puppy. I don’t want to hurt you…” you say, but you push yourself in deeper to quiet her whimpers. The ribbed surface rutting in and out of her wet heat had its obvious effects. Her knees shake where they are around your hips and her head arches back as she moans, voice breaking. The harigata was doing everything it was designed to do and more. Mizu was falling apart so beautifully and you weren’t even fully inside.

Slower thrusts, still quick but less shallow, and she moves her arms to wrap around your neck in a tender embrace, holding your back to keep herself present. With you.

Some time passes, and you push yourself in further. You feel some natural resistance, Mizu’s breath hitching. You pause and pull away somewhat to check for her expression, finding her eyes wet with tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling in ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself long enough to get a sentence out.

“No! No, don’t stop. [Reader], please don’t stop,” she whines, cradling your face. You obliged and continued, though far slower than the pace you were going before. Mizu openly whimpers at this loss before she intertwines her legs around your hips by her ankles, keeping you close.

“Could that princess give you what I can?” You say suddenly, still feeling that burst of envy possess you as you rut your hips forward with a precision that only hours of fantasies and failed attempts to recreate Mizu’s body could give you. A shuddering, wanton moan later, Mizu’s hand flies over her mouth. You take that hand by her wrist and pin it to the floor, still thrusting your hips against hers with purpose and vigor. Not all the way in, not yet. “Well?” You ask. You demand.

“N-no…no she can’t…” Mizu damn near sobs, and possession coils in your gut as you push the harigata to reach new depths. Her moans are pitched and broken, you feel and see her falling apart. The poor thing felt so full, unsure what to even make of the delicious stretch your phallus provided or the hot arousal that being beneath you gave her. To some degree, she was yours, and you both knew it.

Feeling pleased with her state as she answered, you finally and gently push yourself in entirely, making her back arch and moans echo across your chambers like they did so long ago. The harigata’s other end pushes against you, makes you groan at the pressure. You look down at her whorish expression, her inky black hair spread like a halo around her head. You see her flushed skin shining with sweat, you see the tremble in her body and think about how much longer you’ll have to go without it.

“You don’t even know what you do to me…” You begin to ramble without thinking, words flowing like water from your tongue while Mizu moans beneath you.

You can’t help the way your hips begin to plow against hers, you can’t help the strength and ferocity that possesses you when you think of the distance that will be between the two of you. When you think of who she could meet and compare you to. When you think of yourself in the future, in bed, alone, aching for a body that will not be there. You cannot control the desire in your body when your hips move in a way that can only be described as primal, and she takes it all. Mizu has always taken what you give her so well, and it wasn’t long before you were both panting each other’s name against your skins, the room now hot and stuffy and reeking of sex. Her voice reaches a certain pitch, her nails claw into the silken fabric of your kimono, and you can tell she’s closer than ever.

A warm flower of pride bloomed in your chest as you realized that one day, if all went well, you could keep her for yourself. You’d no longer spend the lonely nights in your palace inviting women of the night to give you company. You’d no longer need to bear the crushing loneliness in your bed — not when Mizu’s mission would fail and she’d realize her rightful place at your side. Safe and warm. Protected. Yours.

You imagine fucking her day and night when she returns until she’s sore and trembling, unable to stand without your assistance. The mental image and the emotions it ignites inside of you make you openly and shakily moan in sync with her, and the two of you cum in each other's embrace. She’s damn near bitten through the silk of your kimono by now, drool coating the luxurious fabric. By now, she’s hardly the image of dignified, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pull yourself off of her with nothing but a smooth roll of your hips and a near-violent shudder from the body beneath you. By then, it had all blurred together into a hazy memory of warm candlelight, golden skin, and warm, damp towels running along Mizu’s body and freshly fetched water poured into her waiting mouth. You only remember the rest you won for yourself that night, the two of you wrapped in a tangle of limbs and half torn fabric, warm.

But you wake up cold, and you recall why she came by in the first place.

“Would it be too burdensome to stay?” You implore, voice breaking with sleep and heartache. That worn, raggedy kimono is once again wrapped around her figure, her bandages back on. Her very aura is cold and distanced, and the weight of her decision truly settles into your skin.

“We can be happy, you know.” You say, almost pleading but with far too much pride to let it show. “I am in the mountains, far from the city. No white man could find you here,” You can’t being yourself to stand. You watch as her expression morphs from one of sorrow and pity to one of distrust, distaste, and near-resentment. Whether it is directed to you or her father, you cannot be sure.

With her back to you and her voice in the tone of a man’s, she bids you goodbye.

You find that— more than anyone— you want her quest of revenge to fail.

How you despised her.

And oh, how you missed her.

[yallthemwitches]

Not a Bang, But a Whimper

During their sixth year, Severus goes out after curfew to give information to Lily that he thinks will bring them back together. Unfortunately, he finds her already with someone else.

A companion piece to my other oneshot "Slipping Away" for Jily Week 2024, Day 7: Continuation Station (hosted by @kay-elle-cee and @sunshinemarauder) Ao3 Link Here

Curfew be damned. Severus ran down the corridor not caring how many portraits awoke from the wand’s light and his heaving breaths. He knew she would be there tonight and it was perhaps his only chance to get her alone to talk some sense into her. 

He was given the news from Avery just after dinner.  “The Dark Lord is recruiting.” Avery kept his eyes down and spoke in a quiet hiss. Even among a table of friends they couldn’t risk the information being leaked. 

Severus’ heartbeat caught. It was the first time in a long time he felt like he had a real sense of power. The Dark Lord could change the whole trajectory of his life—for once, he wouldn’t be counted out. 

“Who is he looking for?” Severus posed. “Can anyone join?” His mind flashed to Lily. For over a year now she had completely abandoned him but there wasn’t a moment that passed where he didn’t think of her. She too was someone who had been given a bad chance at life. Getting an opportunity to join alongside him would secure her in the wizarding world forever. 

“They will take anyone who is willing to give their loyalty,” Avery responded. “I’ve even heard he will take those of less pure blood…if they have something worthy to offer.”

It was all Severus could hope for. No one was more worthy than Lily despite her blood status. He could barely wait until that night when he knew she would be down in the potions room working on one of her little projects. She always did that on Saturday nights when she knew no one would be around to catch her. He went to his bedside table and took out a small crumpled photo he had carried with him since childhood. A small, meek version of himself stared up out of the photograph. Beside him, Lily held onto his hand, beaming. It was a version of them he wished he could go back to—perhaps seeing it she would feel the same. 

Now, he slowed his pace down to a walk and stopped at the statue of Ingrid the Horrid to catch his breath. Grasping onto the marble, he felt his heartbeat slow and started to make himself a little bit more presentable. 

A noise came from the end of the hall and Severus jolted behind the statue. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by Filch at a time like this–especially when he was so close to talking to her. After tonight, there would not be many more chances. She would never entertain him during the day, and the times to catch her alone at night were diminishing quickly.

Lily stepped out into the corridor with her wand lit. Her eyes shone bright in the shadows as she looked back and forth up the corridor.

“Hello?” She called out. She took some hesitant steps down the hall before swerving to look back behind her again. A small noise caught Severus’ attention just on the other end of the corridor, but he ignored it. 

Perhaps it was the nerves that made him not immediately show himself, but he kept watching her for a couple of minutes. She didn’t drop her defenses, clearly still sensing that someone was there. Like a well trained prefect she took small, deliberate steps regarding each side of the corridor, never dropping her wand in case she was about to be attacked.  After a moment she gave a frustrated sigh. He heard the noise again, this time closer.

“Alright, come out–I know it's you.” Snape’s stomach sank. He righted himself, trying to get even the smallest semblance of confidence before stepping out beyond the statue. Something else shifted in the darkness on the other side of the corridor. As though apparating, James Potter suddenly appeared out of the shadows. 

“Oh hello, Evans,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Nice evening isn’t it?”

Severus would have scoffed if he could have. Of course Potter would be cocky and self assured even when he was breaking school rules. 

Lily pursed her lips and he felt a burst of excitement. He knew that look from anywhere. There were very few things Severus enjoyed more in this world than seeing Lily tell off that arsehole. 

“Forget what time it is again, Potter?” She sounded cool, but there was something brewing underneath her tone.

Potter feigned a thoughtful look before clicking his tongue. 

“Hm must have—but then again, I should be asking you the same thing. Don’t you only patrol Tuesday nights?”

Lily froze up. Her wand trembled a little bit in her hand, creating a spattering of new shadows on the walls. 

“You memorized my prefect schedule,” she hissed.

Snape waited for the proverbial hammer to drop. It was one thing for Potter to be out breaking rules, but entirely another to be essentially stalking her. 

“I needed to see you again.”

There was a change in his voice that Severus had never heard before. It was softer. Certainly quieter than his usual boasting during the daytime. It seemed impossible to think, but James Potter seemed to be pleading.

“I’m just gonna say it,” he sighed, “I can’t stop thinking about you—about last night. I’m going mad.” 

This was hardly the first time Severus heard Potter make some sort of sweeping attempt at wooing her. That seemed like a complete waste of time on his part to come all the way out here to try again, but what happened last night? Were they seeing each other more often than he realized?

Lily didn’t draw back, nor did she make her usual face of disgust dedicated to Potter’s antics. Instead, her lips twitched into a small smile. “So what? You came here to try your luck again?”

“Well,” he hesitated, “ I guess…yes?” 

They shared a silence. Severus tried his best to push himself against the statue enough to get a better view of Lily’s face. Her brow furrowed in deep contemplation, but for what reason Severus couldn't understand. The scenario seemed so simple to him—Potter was essentially giving himself over to get detention or even better, hexed because of how brazen he was acting. Instead, Lily bit her bottom lip for a second then let out an exasperated sigh. 

James stepped towards her. “Lily—at least, tell me why you did it.”

It felt like a slap. Severus had never heard Potter use her first name before. He could feel his blood levels begin to rise. He knew he wasn’t exactly close to Lily anymore, but even from an outsider's perspective, it didn’t seem like the two were in any capacity to be on a first name basis and even if they were, he had no right to be soiling her name with his breath.

Lily fiddled with the ends of her hair. Her eyes blinked in rapid succession as she searched for some sort of response. 

After a beat, she whispered, “I don’t know.”

Potter took another step closer. He ran his hand again through his hair, but this time it was more out of exasperation than vanity. 

“How could you not know?” If Severus was confused about James’ tone before it was very clear now. Potter was unabashedly begging. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Lily sighed out. Her eyes were closed now in pain. 

Severus was not following. It was like they were speaking in riddles that only the two of them knew the solution. Clearly, there was a huge oversight on his part about Lily’s relationship with Potter because the Lily he knew would never entertain him for this long, nor would she let her first name come out of his arrogant mouth. 

James took another step closer to her. Now they weren’t more than a foot or two apart. Lily kept her eyes closed, looking as though she wished James would disappear entirely from the scene. Severus had the split thought of coming to help her. All it would take was one flick of his wand….

“But you did like it—” James’ voice sounded so small. Like a meek child asking for permission. “I mean, you were the one…I would never—”

Lily opened her eyes. A fire burned in her gaze, but it was different from the anger he saw pointed at Potter countless times. Something was smoldering within her. 

“Of course I liked it,” she scoffed, “and you don’t need to remind me that I was the one who initiated it.”

Potter looked like someone blew air right into his chest and his cheeks swelled with pink. He took the smallest step closer. 

“Lily—can I…touch you?”

The next few moments were a blur. It wasn’t Potter that closed the distance between them but Lily. All she had to do was lurch forward slightly for Potter’s arms to open. She grabbed onto the parts of his shirt that were bunched up around his waistline while he cradled her cheek and neck. Their faces hovered together with eyes hooded and unfocused. Severus felt a twinge of pain from his hand and realized he was grasping at the stone with all of his grip. 

“Are you still unsure,” James asked. His mouth was slightly open and dangerously close to hers now. As a response, she only pulled him closer, their chests now completely glued together. 

Severus held his breath. He wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away. How had he been so stupid? It was all making sense now. How Lily had stopped rowing with Potter on the grounds, how their friend groups had slowly started to intermingle, how when they partnered together right in front of him in Transfiguration Lily would even laugh at something idiotic that Potter said. He wished he had a time turner to take it all back. Find the moment where the kernel of Lily’s interest in Potter began and remove it from her entirely. Instead, he did nothing but continue to stare as his living nightmare unfolded in front of him. 

“I’m sure I want you to kiss me.” 

It was the death nail. Of course Potter didn’t need to be asked twice. Their lips molded together easily—it was clear they had done this before because there was no awkward hesitation, no issues with synchronicity. Their bodies were already well versed in each other and they profited from it. Lily’s hands moved to his neck, folding themselves into his messy hair which she had denounced more than a thousand times to him in the past. James' in turn were everywhere: sliding up and down her back, on her hips, caressing their way to commit every inch of her to memory. 

Severus leaned his forehead on the statue for support, fearing he might faint or worse vomit from the sight. He watched the couple snog for a few minutes, hardly breaking apart long enough to breath before reconnecting again. He wanted to run, but even if he did, he would know he left Lily there to do whatever ungodly thing Potter could cook up in his arrogant mind. 

They finally broke apart for a moment and Lily leaned her forehead against his to catch her breath. Their arms were still wrapped around the other and their chests beat like one. 

“Go out with me,” Potter gasped out, still trying to get his breath. He stared at her intently but Lily closed her eyes and sighed. 

“James—” The way she said his first name pierced Severus in the heart. How much more of this could he take before he was completely dead. At least then he would be taken out of his misery. 

“I can’t,” Lily finished. She opened her eyes and both her and Severus could see that Potter was pained by her response. 

“I don’t get it–” Potter started, he began to pull back but Lily grabbed hold of him tighter.

“I’m just—I’m not ready…for that,” she stammered out. “---but I don’t want this to stop either. I’m sorry, I know that’s so fucked….”

James blinked at her for a second, but then started to pepper soft kisses on her cheekbones and jaw. Lily tilted her head upwards and looked to be savoring the sensation. 

“Yeah, ok. Whatever you want,” James said, “Like I told you. I’m mad about you Lily. You know that.”

Lily smiled and James went back to roaming around her neck with his lips, finding a particular sensitive spot behind her ear. 

“Yea—I know,” Lily breathed out. She pulled James away from her neck so they could look at each other again. 

“You're dangerous for me too you know,” she laughed lightly at her own comment, “You have no idea what you do to me—christ that sounds so stupid.”James groaned with content.

“Merlin, Lily. That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.  He closed the gap between their mouths again. 

Severus finally let his legs give out underneath him. He didn’t even care if they heard him collapse to the ground. It all seemed pointless to him now. He thought about the future and how it wasn’t even an hour ago that the possibility of Lily and him being together again existed. With him, she could be safe, completely protected by the Dark Lord’s graces. Instead, here she was not only choosing to live as a target, but to do so with him. 

He didn’t dare turn back to look at them again, despite hearing their soft moans and the shifting of hands moving over clothing. It felt like ages before they finally separated again.

“I think it's past our bedtimes.” He could hear the desire in Lily’s voice. His stomach sank lower. 

“Hmm. Seems so,” James sounded completely chuffed.

 “If you promise to be good, you can walk with me back to the common room,” Lily teased.

He could hear their feet start moving and he turned around to witness them walking almost shoulder to shoulder. Potter’s hand snaked its way around her hip and he wiggled his fingers, causing her to give a little shriek and swat at his chest. 

“Evans,” Potter teased, “When am I not good?” He watched as they turned the corner together, leaving Severus in a now dark and silent corridor. He didn’t move to get up, opting to lean back against the statue for a couple more moments. The life Snape wanted had been so possible— what had he done to deserve this outcome. He took out the ruddy photo he had in his pocket again and dragged a finger over Lily’s small, childlike smile. Her eyes gleamed up from the page. It couldn’t be over—not yet, he told himself. Not until her eyes were gone from his life, would it be over. 

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Promised words and deeds

John Allerdyce x tva agent!reader

warning : emotional, hurt/comfort, revival, kissing, cuddling, fear

Summary : He had relied on the organization of time and now he was lying dead on a road, his neck broken in a universe that wasn't even likely his. But a soul in the Time Organization had promised him something, and she wouldn't let her own boss do nothing. Was there any hope for the flame tamer? Was there the peace he had always wanted in the end?

info : Soo something very angsty sad it just had to be he had experienced too much sadness not to use it. So have fun reading and have a nice day :)

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

The TVA was an organization that only a handful of people knew about, an organization that was necessary to monitor the flow of the timelines, to correct them or to let them die.

An organization guided by duty and loyalty, each group, each team had a task to do precisely, all except for one team that was to take care of a very special universe under the supervision of Paradox.

A man who liked to hear himself talk, but most of all her boss who had made a promise to her beloved, a deal that involved John Allerdyce working as a spy to keep Cassandra in that damned void…to the point where everything broke down and the tva agent had to watch all that precision and rules end in chaos.

,,What about John!" she had shouted at her superior as he was still nursing his broken nose and looking stressed at the flickering and flashing screens, he didn't seem to hear her plea to do something to finally pull him out of the void after Wolverine had knocked him unconscious.

They had left John there for too long, it had been years since they had said goodbye, since she herself had sought him out, a lost mutant who would otherwise have strayed from his path, it was he who showed her for the first time how beautiful something without rules could be and all this freedom, this love and possibilities.

It was all a devilish creatures blown paradox who had her in his hands and wanted to do something good for John for the first time, which is why he had gone instead of her to be your pawn.

But this sacrifice now seemed to end with a blow as she saw her beloved lying unconscious on the floor, ,,Paradox! Get him out!" she called out again, rising from her seat at the desk and rushing to the larger main console, seeing the older man only now turn his gaze to her and make a puzzled expression, his hands suddenly gripping her shoulders before he shook her.

,,Are you completely stupid! If we intervene now, she'll understand what we've done!" he shouted back as they heard a flicker and bede looked at the screen in shock and worry as Cassandra had actually found some semblance of kindness when it came to her life and actually let Wolverine and Deadpool go.

It was all just a matter of time but the fear that tightened around her heart turned to panic as she realized that John was now alone ,,She's going to kill him" went through her mind and she tore herself away from the man before punching him in the nose again ignoring the yelp and grabbing the timepad that was taken from her for "reasons" so she wouldn't do anything.

She still heard the ban, heard the guards who wanted to capture her, who wanted to prevent her from doing what John had told her for the first time and disappeared into the bright golden portal.

Moments, fractions of seconds could be like years when it came to someone you loved, someone you would defend with your life. John back after the battle between the X-Men and the Brotherhood of Mutants was an outcast among outcasts, a wanderer who wanted to give up on his path as a villain.

She knew and he knew that he was tired of killing that he wanted to go back to the people who could truly be like a family but it wasn't meant to be and so they met, those bright eyes looking at her with interest he demonstrated his power to her and she was assigned to take care of him.

It was almost cute how he seemed puzzled by the technology as if there were hundreds of years between them, his compliments and flirting attempts as much as she tried to ignore it set her heart on fire and the hand-holding hid soon after work became kissing and more.

He was a love, a real love for them both and it could have been something if it wasn't too late this damn deal and this universe, the timeline had turned against them both.

When she had stepped through the portal nothing had happened she was in her office in the place where she had last seen him, still seeing the blood on the floor where the fight had taken place she still seemed to see him in front of her that grin she knew he had every right to freak out she blamed herself as well as Paradox that all this had happened.

The hit wouldn't kill him but Cassandra that crazy psychopath would, it was just a question she didn't want to get answered at the moment.

But he would only have to wait a moment, a moment that had passed and her gaze still saw the portal of magic, there he was there she would have to endure a moment of uncertainty and death and she would try to free herself from Cassandra's clutches all in a moment as she stepped through her own portal. She wanted to feel his warmth again, to know he was with her and to rekindle his hope, his flame of hope together in a shared future.

But the second time through the portal, arriving at the subway entrance, the underpass with the steel bars, the smoke and the bald woman who walked past her in the blink of an eye, neither noticing nor killing her, left nothing but death.

A man lying motionless on the floor she had heard the crack within a heartbeat knew what had happened as tears filled her eyes she rushed to her John and knelt beside him on the floor, ,,John…it's me-I'll-I'll bring you back" she sobbed tears blurring her vision as she shakily reached for her small device she knew she didn't have forever as she carefully lifted him with it.

It was only a moment but he was clinging to life, she was clinging to his heart and he was clinging to hers. she would not lose him even if she had a dead man in front of her. The promise of the future and life would both be hers while her apologies and tears fell on mute ears.

His body that slowly extinguished the warmth of life, the fire as she looked into his fearful expression, wishing she could warm him, wishing he could hear her as she took him back with her to the tva, directly to the center for emergency medical care.

The moment of his last life his breath was decided when she took him to her known of the ward knew it was against the rules but with her attention, the greater threat and a threat he was taken care of immediately, a matter of simplicity but it would take some time a horror as he slowly came back to consciousness while she could only be beside him.

She held his hand in state as his condition slowly improved, staying with him for hours until the doctor told her she could now take him with her, breaking the rules by stealing someone from the organization to testify against Paradox afterwards and then disappearing from her time with John, but it was all worth it when he woke up.

When she rushed out of the hospital with John her evidence had long since gone to the right places but none of this mattered when they found themselves in the apartment the agents had been given as a hideout in alternate universes it would serve as home and a new beginning she continued to hold his hand as he lay in the dark bedding his breathing calm the only sign he was alive.

She knew that at some point he would wake up, that he would be able to feel his fire again and that he would not only experience justice but also peace, ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry I didn't act sooner," the guilt she gave herself finally burst out of her as she grabbed his hand again and kissed it, feeling the light warmth of life clinging to him.

Tears threatened to well up in her eyes again, the cracking of his neck and everything he had to suffer, all of which would not have been done sooner.

Laying her head on his stomach she tried to cuddle up to him lightly tiredness was slowly pulling at her she had barely slept the coffee was keeping her body awake but not her mind ,,I'll stay with you John" she mumbled before giving her eyes a little rest listening to his calm heartbeat before drifting off into a light sleep.

A sleep filled with memories of the past with John, of beautiful loving moments that meant everything to her and that she had looked at again and again.

His warmth seemed so close and his voice called her, he reached out his hand to her and held her close, finally lying in his arms again, it was the only thing they both wanted.

Until she saw the shadow in her dream, the dark shadow spreading over her, the fingers reaching out to destroy her, she saw those crazy eyes, the mutant who could kill her if she wanted to, the destroyer who had already killed him.

Fear flooded her body and her fingers automatically clung to John unconsciously that when she felt a hand on her head her eyes opened and she looked into a soft painful smile, ,,Hello Flame" she heard his voice slightly scratchy from the use but his warmth was back his hand caressing her head, he held her and didn't let go as she fell into his embrace.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as murmured words of apology and love left her and she felt his hand run down her back, ,,John I'm-I'm sorry I should have-" she began to stammer between tears and relief as he placed his hand on her cheek, wiped away some of the tears and pulled her into a long, deep kiss.

She saw his own devastation, the slight tears in his eyes as he realized it was past time he realized he was safe and didn't have to be afraid, ,,You saved me…it's over, isn't it?" he dared to ask, sniffling and blinking to get the tears away as she nodded hastily, hearing the relieved exhale as he dropped into the pillows and pulled her back to him.

Practically sitting on his lap, he had his arms wrapped around her again and she heard his heartbeat quicken and life was truly back with him, a quiet moment between them as she listened to John's almost relieved breathing while she was simply relieved to have him back.

The fear she had of not having his death recalled vanished, ,,We can finally have our own future," she said, feeling his hand on her cheek again as he placed a kiss on her head and reached out his other hand to feel for a source of heat until a heart flamed in his hand.

A heart like the one he had made when they parted, a heart of flames that would burn away the past to make room for a new beginning together in love in their own self-created timeline.

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

@thefandomqueen2882 , @oceansrose2002 , @girlypieee , @paintmekala , @gingersnaps-obsessed12 , @arisja3701

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Waking Comfort (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence (in a flashback), implied/referenced trauma (unspecified) Warnings: N/A Summary: Unable to sleep on a cold day, Bela Dimitrescu tries to find comfort in her favorite servant... only to end up being the one doing the comforting. Notes: This is super self indulgent, because my dreams have been murdering me recently. Reader is a selective mute/partially nonverbal, implied neurodivergent (unspecified), gender neutral but written with a non-binary person in mind, with non-specific past trauma. Basically this is somewhat of a self-insert fic but I've smudged some lines to make it more relatable for other people.

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

In the early hours of the day, when the sun had yet to reach its peak, a cold quiet fell over Castle Dimitrescu. Most inhabitants were of a nocturnal persuasion, and lay sleeping soundly at this hour. Those few that thrived in the sun moved softly, with caution, daring not to awaken their masters. Oh, if only they knew that one Lady of the house was awake, prowling the corridors with marked intent. What a chill it would send down their spines- what lovely fear would permeate the household.

Ah, but that was not what Bela Dimitrescu desired, at least not for now. No, what she needed was something she would never admit out loud. It was a “base” need, one that all humans felt, and so she feared that it was beneath her. There was only one person that she could trust for this: A servant, experienced in all matters needed of them, level-headed, compassionate… and, most importantly, selectively mute.

Over the past year, Bela had found herself growing closer to you, much to her own surprise. The two of you had started to bond through reading, after you had helped her reorganize a mess in the library (left by none other than Lady Daniela). Since then, you had proven to be a valuable ally, always finding creative solutions to the family’s problems. From jury-rigging a set of climbing gear for repairs, to proof-reading all formal letters, there was hardly any part of Bela’s life that you hadn’t assisted with. All while only ever saying two or three sentences- short ones, at that.

Neither of you would ever forget the first (and only) time you spoke out loud. A would-be hunter had infiltrated the estate, through a damaged skylight (which you later repaired), intending to prove his worth by killing the nobility inside. By the time Bela arrived, after being notified by a terrified maiden, she found the situation had already been aptly handled. There you had stood, clutching an ornate, bloodied cane like a club. In front of you had been the unconscious hunter.

“You could have been hurt!” Bela had snapped, unable to stop herself, glad that her sisters hadn’t arrived yet. Then you had glanced at the man, then her, then back to the man. Something uncharacteristically dark had danced in your eyes.

“He said he was going to save me… from you. Called me defenseless,” you had snarled, poking the man with your cane as you did. “Rude.” Before Bela even had a chance to react, her sisters had appeared, disappointed to find the fight already over. They had fought over who would get to kill the hunter, and somewhere in that chaos you had slipped away without another word.

That day had replayed itself in Bela’s mind hundreds of times in her mind. Though she would not readily admit it, that had been the day that her casual affection for you had started to turn into something more serious. These days she didn’t even know how to describe your relationship- after all, you had never told her how you felt. But you had held her, closely, fingers running through her hair while she fought off memories from someone else’s life. Held her in your arms, as she held you, staving off the cold like it was all you had ever known.

This was what she wanted. Your touch, your comfort. All that stood in her way was a familiar question: Where were you? Master of your environment, schedule constantly in flux, you were rarely where anyone expected you to be, especially when you were prone to taking on whatever tasks others hadn’t had time to finish. So Bela searches, quickly, around places the day-shift tends to gather. She’s careful not to be seen, even though she knows the maidens aren’t likely to gossip where her family might hear. In the end she catches a hint of your scent near the servants’ quarters, and curses herself for not checking there sooner.

Your room is one of the only single-occupancy rooms in this wing. Only senior staff were allowed within these places, most of them rotating out as they “lost their usefulness”. The fact that you had slept in the same bed every night for six months was a testament to your skill. It’s the kind of thought that brings Bela some semblance of warmth in her chest. Still, the thought alone is not enough, so she slowly eases your door open.

Her ears strain against the silence, listening for the pattern of your breathing, or the telltale murmurs that would announce your awakening. Instead, the first things she hears are little gasps, then the shifting of fabric. Dreams of some sort have you turning and tossing, lungs getting hungry in their pursuit of air. It’s not immediately clear whether or not you are enjoying the dream. Were these good gasps, like those that Daniela often cooed about when she praised her maiden? Or were these the same kind that sometimes haunted Bela herself?...

A whimper cuts through the air, and suddenly Bela loses all patience. Practically running, she crosses the room in an instant, concern etched into her brow. One hand cautiously reaches for your blanket, pulling it back enough for her to slide in next to you. It’s a risk, one that could make you wake up with a panic, but it’s one she’s willing to take. After all, she had asked you about this sort of thing before. Though you couldn’t form full sentences, you had experience “miming” things, and Bela was quite clever with her “yes or no” questions.

When she carefully wraps an arm around your waist, she does so with confidence. Beneath her touch you stiffen, back going as tense as possible, but you stop shaking. A few more gasps leave you, and Bela wonders whether or not she should wake you up. Less than a minute later the decision is made for her. All the sudden your gasping turns to a sharp exclamation, body jerking hard, eyes snapping open. Tension coils through your muscles, driving your already overstimulated brain overboard.

Before Bela can even try to comfort you, you sit up, quickly turning so your legs dangle off the edge of the bed. Muffled sobs pass your lips as you hold your face in your hands. Memories struggle against each other behind your eyes, blocking out every other sensation. Your jaw is clenched, hard, and you struggle to breathe between shakes. A hand touches your back, but quickly moves when you flinch in response. It takes a minute for you to even process who else is with you. Once you do, some of the tension bleeds from your body.

“If you’d rather be alone right now, I understand,” Bela says, quietly, as soon as she thinks you’ll be able to understand her. For a moment you can’t bring yourself to respond, and you can feel her side of the mattress shifting, like she’s getting ready to leave. Panic springs up in your chest again, so you quickly reach a hand out in her direction. Thankfully she knows what to expect at this point, easily finding your hand in the dark, gently taking it within her own. “One squeeze for yes, two for no?”

You squeeze, once.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Bela asks, trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice. It makes you pause, considering, even though you’re still overwhelmed by your sensory inputs. In the end you squeeze her hand twice. “No worries, my dear. Don’t be tempted to push yourself just for my sake.” Somehow she always knew how to read you like an open book. Even with the… difficulty of communicating with you. Not that she had ever complained, or even thought about it. Knowing you, and caring for you, made any effort feel as easy as breathing.

A few minutes pass without another word being said. Sometimes Bela gives your hand a little squeeze, just to check in, and you always return it. Soon enough your brain starts to relax, loosening its vice-like grip on your motor controls. Once again you can ease the tension in your muscles. Then you find yourself rubbing your thumb against Bela’s hand, moving in soft circular motions, head turning so you can smile at her. Even if it’s too dark for you to see much, you know that her eyes see you just fine.

“Feeling any better?” She asks, donning a smile of her own. One squeeze. “Is there anything more I can do to help?” A pause, then one squeeze. Now that your limbs don’t feel as staticky, there’s only one thing on your mind: Cuddling. You’re moving before you know it, briefly letting go of Bela’s hand so you can get closer to her, pressing your face into her neck and giving her a soft kiss. Then you’re falling against the bed, on your side, looking up at your partner with a grin. It doesn’t take her long to get the message, shifting back onto her side so she can hold you for real this time. One of your hands goes to rest on her back, to serve as your translator for the rest of the night. “I love you,” Bela says, without even thinking.

She freezes up afterwards, realizing that this is the first time she’s ever said the words out loud to you. For a moment she’s scared, a feeling alien to her, but she refuses to back down. It pays off a few seconds later, incredibly so, when you return the words the best way you can: One squeeze.

[probsjosh]

Bumblebee

Schlatt Coin origin story. 

Dad!Schlatt x reader but I made it fuckin sad.

edit: I fucking forgot to mention this is GN!Reader I'm such an idiot

Warning: mentions of alcohol, cheating/affairs, abandonment, gambling, not explicit but reference to murder, angst (if there’s anything else I missed please tell me)

So uh, Dad!Schlatt angst aye?

_________________________________________

It had been a great Friday afternoon. Schlatt decided he’d wanted to take you, his spouse, and son out for the day to have some fun, going to having lunch, then visiting the local ice cream shop before stopping at an arcade to spoil Tubbo for the night. It was rare for your family of three to have these outings but it made it all that much more special when you had the time and money to do so. 

After playing and collecting tickets for the better part of two hours, Tubbo had finally scrounged up just enough tickets to get the giant bee plushie he’d been eyeing all year. It was bigger than his torso, square-shaped, and undeniably adorable. What was even more adorable was this pudgy little three-year-old waddling his way up to the prize counter, holding an unreasonable amount of tickets in his arms. There’s a small moment of panic when he realizes he can’t quite reach the top of the counter when his dad comes to the rescue, lifting him up so he can open his arms and let the tickets fall in front of the impressed employee. 

“Gimme da bee,” Is all he says, his contagious laughter ringing out as the bee is retrieved and handed over to the giddy child. “Tank you!” is all the employee gets before he buries his face into the plush. Schlatt laughs and hugs him tighter, he kisses his forehead as you look at them awestruck, a loving smile on your face. It was moments like these that reminded you how much you loved your family. Tubbo managed to peel himself away from his newfound love long enough to yell at you, “Look! I got da bee! Look!” You laugh as you come closer to them, pressing a kiss onto Tubbos forehead, “My little Bumblebee has his own bumblebee!” His little giggles muffled by the bee as he nods, “I got a bumby bee!”

Once you were all back home, there was a knock at the door. You were sitting in the bathroom with Tubbo, who was enjoying a bubble bath, so Schlatt went to answer the door. There was some muffled talking before he appeared in the bathroom doorway. “I’m gonna go out to the casino with the boys for a while. Think you can survive a few hours without me?” Tubbo emerges from his mountain of bubbles, giggling before he dove back in, “I think we’ll be okay,” you laugh as your son piles the bubbles onto his head like a hat. Schlatt smiles and gives you a quick kiss before heading out. “Don’t get too shit-faced!” you call after him, you hear a soft, “I’ll try!” before the door shuts. 

He apparently didn’t try hard enough. He stumbles in the front door at 4 a.m. reeking of booze, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke staining his clothes. You came downstairs to help him into the bathroom. “I think-” he hiccups as you sit him on the rim of the bathtub, “I think I got a little too shit-faced.” He smiles apologetically, swaying lightly, before reaching into his pocket, “I made some money though.” You smile back, but chastise him for drinking and coming home late anyways, but you knew he probably didn’t mean to get as drunk as he did and it seemed like he’d had fun.

It wasn’t a problem at first. At first, it was just a weekend a month. Then one weekend became two, became every other week, became if he wasn’t at work, he was at that damn casino, became you weren’t even sure if he still had a job. You weren’t even sure when it started but you very quickly realized what a problem it had become. Schlatt was never home. And if he was he would only appear to drop off a wad of cash, give Tubbo a hug, try to show you any semblance of affection which you outright rejected, and he’d be out the door again. You’d stopped trying to keep him at home, seeing as he’d just disappear no matter what you told him, no matter how much you asked for him to stay, he never did. 

Your breaking point was when Tubbo just stopped asking where his dad was. It was almost as if he’d forgotten who his father was, and the only person to blame was Schlatt. So one night you asked your neighbors if they could watch Tubbo for just a little while, they agreed, and you were off to the casino to drag your alcoholic, gambling addict of a husband back home. 

It wasn’t difficult to spot him in public, his ram horns like a crown atop his head made him a beacon for attention, and he was definitely getting it. He sat at a Roulette table, a rather large crowd gathered around him, towers of chips in front of him, one arm slung around some twink, the other arm knocking over towers of chips to signify him placing his bet. He was always one to put on a show. 

“Always bet on black!” he shouted, and the crowd around him roared, as the dealer pushed his newly won earnings towards him. He took a sip of his drink before he leaned down and kissed the man pressed against his side. 

That made you see red. 

You stormed over, the crowd parting like the red sea at the sight of your fury until you were met with JSchlatt himself. “Hey, what happened...” was all he could say before he turned to see you standing there in front of him, furious and heartbroken. 

“How could you?” You sounded so angry at first. “How fucking could you.” But it melted away into sorrow. The tears flowed down easily, you didn’t bother trying to hide how much he’d hurt you. But after months of never seeing him at home, did you really think he would remain faithful to you? Did the thought of Schlatt living out of a casino, on a never-ending gambling train, never make you think that he was doing something, or rather someone, else?

    No. In all honesty, it hadn’t. You’d been naive enough to trust the man with the Devil’s Horns with every aspect of yourself, thinking that maybe if you loved him enough, he’d love you just the same. And as you stood in front of the man you once called the love of your life. The father to your gorgeous child. The man that promised to love you till the end of your days. 

You saw the pure horror in his eyes. 

   

Not the shame you’d expected, nor the anger at the fact that he’d been caught. He was terrified. Of what, you couldn’t be sure and you honestly didn’t care. Anger clouded your judgment, as you saw him take a step towards you, an arm extended out to reach for you. You swatted his hand away and sobbed. Hot, angry tears streamed down your face as you yelled. Profanities, curses to his name, wishes that you’d never met the wretched man, and he was so taken aback, he stumbled back and into the table. Every single one of his chip towers fell, the dealer didn’t bat an eye and accepted his entire haul as a bet. Schlatt realized too late as he turned to see the wheel spin.

Red, 16.

You’d stopped yelling by now, trying to collect yourself, as you felt both his hands clamp onto your arms, “Honey, darling, I’m gonna need you to listen to me, okay?” You tried to pull away, fighting against his grip, but he apparently wasn’t as drunk as he made it out to seem. “Please, I know I fucked up, just please for the love of God listen to me for just one fucking second.” 

The urgency and desperation in his voice caught your attention and you knew he was being serious. You stopped fighting in his grip and met his gaze. 

“I need you to go home. I need you to take Tubbo, take any cash you have left, and nothing else. And I need you to run. As far and as fast as you can. Do you understand me?” The fear in his eyes suddenly made sense as you nodded twice. He let out a choked breath before he whispered, “I’m so sorry,” as he let go of you. You didn’t say anything in return, only giving him one last look of pained understanding as you turned on your heel and ran as fast as you could.

Schlatt stood there, staring at the spot where the love of his life had stood. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming down when he heard the awfully familiar voice of the casino owner as he walked onto the floor. As it turns out, Schlatt had been in that casino 24/7 because he owed someone powerful a lot, and I mean a lot, of money. “JSchlatt. Friend. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Schlatt flinches as he feels Dreams' hand land on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, the shit-eating grin he’d come to perfect settling on his face so fucking naturally, as he turned to face his demon. “Dream! Ah! What a lovely surprise-” 

“Cut the shit Schlatt. What the hell just happened to my money.” It's not a question. He knows what happened, he just wants to see Schlatt squirm. 

"I can— I can get it all back. I promise. I promise— please just," he swallows what little pride he has left and he begins to unravel in front of Dream, "Just leave my spouse and kid alone." Dream tsks and looks Schlatt over once, pausing for just a second before he sighs and reaches into his pocket.

 He takes Schlatts wrist and presses a single gold coin into his palm, closing the drunks fist around it. Schlatt, grateful for this second chance, almost sighs in relief, but before he can, Dream speaks again, "Your last coin, Schlatt. Be smart with it." Immediately Dreams lackeys rush past them, out the door, and into the night looking for blood. Schlatt realizes far too late. "NO—" Dreams grip on his wrist tightens, as Schlatt stumbles and falls in front of him. 

“I told you Schlatt. There would be a price to pay.”

 Schlatt finally breaks in front of Dream, gripping the coin in his hand, as he screams for the family he knows he's already lost.

You stumbled up to your neighbor’s door, slamming your fists repeatedly on their front door before a panicked woman opened the door. It was well into the night at this point, and you’d feel much more sympathy for her if the fear and adrenaline course through you weren’t making you as panicked as she looked. You rushed pasted her, picking Tubbo up from where he lay sleeping, thanked her profusely before you apologized, and bolted out of her house. You gripped Tubbo to your chest as you ran down the street and into the city, pasted closed shops, and speeding cars. Tubbo never once stirring from his slumber, his little arms wrapped around his bee plush, his blanket catching all your tears as you bolted haphazardly through the city.

You didn't know much about the man who ran the casino but you knew what happened to the people that crossed him.

You didn't have it in you to outright hate Schlatt for this. It may have been his actions that lead to this but it was obvious he never meant to put either you or Tubbo in harm’s way. The look on his face was enough to tell you he still loved you with every fiber of his being but that was not enough to excuse him for what he'd done. You didn’t think you’d ever forgive him for what he’d done to you and Tubbo, but you knew that didn’t matter now. What mattered was making sure Tubbo was safe.

You came across an alleyway that went into the forest bordering the city. You knew there was only so much you could do in the city, so you chose to gamble your chances in the woods. After hours of dodging trees, bushes, and boulders, getting as far away from the sounds of the men coming after you as you could, you manage to find yourself on the other side of the forest. The sun was rising in the distance as you came to a clearing. A road that lead out of the city and into the undeveloped land surrounding it. 

Then you spot it.

A box. A simple box sitting on the side of the lonely road leading out of the city. As you got closer the words "FREE ITEMS" written on the side in bold black marker made it clear that this was a donation box. You knew this is Tubbos’ only chance. Frantically, you search the box and luckily find the very marker used to write on the box that had been tossed in by its original owner. You carefully lower Tubbo into the box, uncap the marker and on the inside flap quickly scribble "His name is tubbo, take care of him, please.”

You don't even realize you're crying until your vision is too blurry to see the words. You hear a shout coming from the woods and you know you have to go. Suppressing your sobs, you quickly press a kiss into his forehead for the last time, "Goodbye my little Bumblebee." A sad smile comes onto your features as you close the flaps of the box enough to hide him before turning back into the forest and running in without looking back. A newfound determination in you as you make as much noise as you can, hoping that they would be satisfied in only killing you and leave your baby alone.

A few hours pass and there are screams coming from within the forest that are abruptly cut off. Tubbo stirs in his box and awakens as the sun comes up, spilling into his new temporary home. He sits up, confused and alone when he hears a voice coming up the road. Fear gets the better of him and he ducks down into the box as he hears a small voice yell, "Dadza! Dadza! Can I check what’s inside that box?" There’s a low chuckle, and a soft, "Sure son, go ahead," before Tubbo can hear small footsteps quickly approaching him.

Tubbo grips his plushie as he hears the small footsteps slow down, before stopping completely. Suddenly the box flaps open and a little blonde boy’s head pokes out over the edge, blue eyes peering down at him. A moment passes as both boys stare at each other in confusion before the blonde boy calls out again.

"Daaaaad! There's a baby in the box!" The heavy footsteps stop suddenly. "A what?" The footsteps start up again, and suddenly a man in a green and white striped bucket hat appears. Confusion turns to worry, as the man’s eyes settle on the message scribbled into the box. “So. Tubbo? Is it?” 

Tubbos’ grip on his plushie becomes even tighter, but he nods slowly, eyes dancing between the boy and the man. “Well, Tubbo. Guess I’m your dad now. My name is Philza,” he gestures to the boy, “and this is Tommy.” Tubbos eyes meet Tommys, and Tommy grins at the boy in front of him. “Hi, Tubbo! You’re gonna be my best friend!” At these words, Tubbo smiles and stands in his box, dropping his bee in favor of hugging Tommy. “Hi, Tommy.” Is all he says as Tommy hugs Tubbo back. Philza smiles at the boys in front of him, unable to find it in him to worry about how his twins would react to the family’s new addition.

Back in the city, Schlatt stumbles back home for the first time in weeks, being greeted by a cold and silent house. He shuts the door behind him and slumps down onto the floor. A bottle of Jack Daniels already half-empty meets his lips as he begins to cry again. Longing for the family that he lost the moment he struck that stupid deal with Dream. His fingers play with the singular gold coin he has to his name. 

Schlatts coin.

Bonus:

He liked to walk the length of the city during the day. The sights and sounds were enough to drown out his hungover thoughts. He'd be sober for most of the day before he returned to the casino to drown his sorrow in liquor, but for now he could relish in the warm sun as he came to the edge of the city. There was a playground near where the forest and city collided that he usually avoided, in fear of breaking down over hearing the children's laughter, but for some reason today he felt nostalgia for the happy times he'd once had.

He walks the sidewalk, tears coming to his eyes as his guilt comes crashing back. Coming to a bench, he sits down, hands cradling his head, as he tries to get a hold of himself together. Suddenly he hears him. He hears his son shouting, "Dad! Dad!" followed by his laughter. 

Thinking he'd finally gone insane, he looks up expecting to see some random kid yelling for their father. Instead he's met with the sight of his Tubbo running around the playground as fast as his little feet will carry him, giggling as a little blonde boy chases him. "Tub-Tubbo?" his own words are nothing but whispers, but his son is shouting, "Dad!" another giggle, "Dadza! Dadza!" a man with large black wings stands from his bench to catch Tubbo as he launches himself into his arms, "Tommy's chasing me! He's chasing me!" the man laughs as the other boy, presumably Tommy, runs into the man's legs, "We're playing tag dummy! I'm supposed to chase you!" the three laugh as the man sits down once again, Tubbo still in his arms, and Tommy clambers onto the bench as well. 

Schlatts face is wet with tears. He's alive. Tubbo was alive. His son was alive and happy and‐ and without him. Without his parents. Grief rocks Schlatts body once more, a single sob escaping him before he rubs his eyes, takes 3 deep breaths, and collects himself.

What mattered here was that Tubbo was safe. He was alive. And he was happy. Schlatt stands, sparing a final glance at his son, silently thanking the man for taking him in, and he begins to walk away without turning back. 

Tubbo turns in time to see a man with ram horns turn the corner as he walks away. "....dad?" his smile dropped as he pulled away from Phil, walking to where he saw the man. "Tubbo? What's wrong?" Phil asked, the concern evident in his voice. Tubbo says nothing and instead makes his way over to the sidewalk, Phil and Tommy close behind. 

As he stepped into the middle of the walkway he saw no one. His little eyebrows knit together as he turns back to face them. "I thought… I thought I saw my dad...but I haven't seen him in so long- it probably wasn't even him." There's an odd mixture of emotion laced in his words as they make their way back to the bench. "'M sorry Tubbo. Do you want to go back home?" Tubbo nods, taking Phil's hand and Tommy goes over and grabs Tubbos' other hand. He smiles at the younger boy, and Tubbo finds it in him to smile back. 

As they begin their trek home Tubbo thinks about the man he saw, and how he could've sworn he recognized his horns.

He could've sworn he recognized his dad's horns.

[shesquaredpodcast]

As I’m rewatching however, it is even more blatant that Janeway and Seven were supposed to be a couple. In the span of two episodes which I ADORE (4.14 and 4.15) when they receive the transmission from Starfleet after Seven sees she can get a message to the Alpha quadrant using the Dr - all of it is laid out.

When Starfleet sends the message “You’re no longer alone” and the camera focuses in on Janeway - it’s really showing that she is absolutely who is carrying this on her shoulders. All of it. The strain, the worry, the unknown of if she’ll ever get these people home. She’s doing her job and suddenly- they’re not alone anymore. It was a beautiful moment.

But let’s go further. Exploring in the Delta quadrant seemed nonsensical to Seven specifically and she said so to Janeway.

“Keep on course to the Alpha Quadrant and stop being delayed” and you’ll be more likely to be successful and Janeway told her it was their way to explore, but truthfully doing so was the only thing - the only stability they knew.

Basically - If they focus on being lost that’s all they’ll ever be. But if they are exploring and cataloging and making first contact then they still have a semblance of normalcy.

Janeway can’t allow herself to accept that they are doing anything other than that; that they are anything but on a deep space mission because otherwise … she can’t accept the despair.

Janeway NEEDED VOYAGER to be a ship of exploration just as much as the crew did because otherwise it was all about them probably not making it home all the time. How far away they were would be the primary focus not secondary or tertiary. It’d be all they focused on.

Seven’s primary drive and singular goal in 4.14 and 4.15 is getting back to the Alpha quadrant. It’s it. That’s all she’s focused on. B’Elanna calls her a bitch basically, scoffs that she’s now “giving orders” when she excitedly demands Janeway and Chakotay come to Astrometrics, and she’s called blatantly rude and all kinds of things by B’elanna but she refused to leave her post.

She flat out refused to leave her post in Astrometrics. She did it not because she had someone in the Alpha quadrant to get back to - she refused to leave her post (4.14) and missed appts in sickbay because she was clearing up messages from the relay from Starfleet command (15) NOT because she cared about it herself. But because Janeway did. She didn’t sleep in days. 58 hrs. She did that because she cared about someone - someone who needed someone to care about her.

She retrieved 6 words in 58 hrs.

58 hours straight.

And she got excited when she got the 6th word. When the doctor snarkily questioned the logic of that excitement, she angrily replied, “This message is important to the Captain.”

As if that is all the explanation needed. Because it WAS.

And when Janeway comes into Astrometrtics right after and Seven tells her what the messages may be containing, she demonstrates a moment of trust and says, “Well I might just hope that it contains a plan for bringing us back to the Alpha quadrant.”

This kind of hope was the very thing Janeway had just chastised her closest people for daydreaming about and then she proceeded to immediately state what she was holding hope for. She immediately let her guard down and spoken openly about her own desires and hopes.

To Seven.

Seven fought tooth and nail to get 6 words of text in 58 hrs - not sleeping a wink to do so because it was “important to the Captain”. Let that sink in.

Now we know why Seven was so persistent.

LITERALLY in the same episode, when Seven volunteers to go forth and try to retrieve messages from Starfleet and people’s families because they have to get closer to the relay, Janeway sends tuvok with her. This causes Seven to believe that Janeway may be distrustful of her still, and after everything she’s been doing to show she cares, she can’t take it.

She straight up asks Tuvok if Janeway doesn’t trust her once she establishes he won’t lie to her.

His response is the ONLY thing that gives her comfort.

WHY?!

Tuvok wants to know that exact thing and asks her why Janeway’s opinion is so important to her and she gives him a bs reason about the Captain’s opinion being important to everyone, right? He merely looks skeptical.

Remember that TUVOK IS TELEPATHIC. He knows these feelings already. This is now the second time he has commented to Seven that she is expressing affection and trust and distress over the Captain.

And once again they parallel Tom and B’Elanna and Seven and Janeway.

Seven and B’Elanna, who both have NO ONE back home to be working furiously towards getting a letter from, literally work tirelessly to download the messages and Tom and Janeway both get messages they don’t want. It’s blatant.

Want more? Tom and Janeway both confide in B’Elanna and Seven in Astrometrics about their feelings. Now RIGHT after that Janeway tells the truth of her letter to Chakotay - not sharing her hopes, only her truth and disappointment. That’s ALSO exactly what Tom does, too.

And since Janeway and Chakotay were 100% built to be confidants and intimate with each other - what can we infer when the only other person Janeway does that with is Seven?

Finally, Janeway straight up says in ep 15 that she was using Mark as a safety net to avoid becoming involved with someone else. She flat out says that to Chakotay.

Someone who maybe was showing her devotion and concern by pushing her own self to the very limits?

Just like Janeway?

This is when Janeway/Seven began.

[deiliamedlini]

Slipping on Ice

Summary: Link is forced to take his little sister Aryll ice skating at 7am, and they suddenly have to share the rink.

~Modern Zelink AU ~

Word count: 4644

Or read on Ao3!

~~

“Link, you missed the turn!”

Aryll sat forward from the backseat and tried to point frantically at the road, only for the seatbelt to lock and send her backwards. There were several loud clicks, and she closed her eyes in defeat before Link could say a single smart word, because now she was stuck with the seatbelt completely trapping her.

“Can I fix my seatbelt?”

“No. We’re almost there. Suck it up.”

“You’re mean!” she groaned, leaning her head on the window.

Link glanced at her in the rearview mirror before making a U turn into the near-empty parking lot.

He leaned his head back against the hard headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t promised his mother that he’d do anything if she let him go to a party over the weekend. He was 18, he shouldn’t even need to ask permission anymore.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!!” Aryll chanted, shaking the driver’s seat with her little hands.

“One day, Aryll, you’ll actually want to sleep in, and then I’ll wake you up to drag you somewhere stupid.”

“Nowhere is stupid!” she countered, whipping her door open and leaning against the window to eerily peer at him.

Glancing at the clock, he rolled his eyes. It was 6:58am and here he was spending the first day of his week-long vacation taking Aryll ice-skating. He double checked his wallet to make sure the 30 rupees his mother had given him were still there and then reluctantly dragged himself from the car.

Aryll was bursting with excitement, bouncing up and down as her plush coat swished with every excited move she made. She pulled her gloves from her pocket—her favorites that had seagulls on them despite the cold—and fiddled to get her fingers in as she stared into the glass door, waiting for whoever to unlock the doors.

Link, on the other hand, was miserable. He was so tired. He wasn’t one of those people who could function with a coffee and just 4 hours of sleep, so he closed his eyes for the next two minutes while leaning against the metal handrail. It didn’t feel cold; everything was cold. Why Aryll wanted to go to an indoor ice rink was beyond him, but he didn’t really care whether it was indoor, outdoor, or on the moon: he didn’t want to go.

“Fix your hat, Link,” she said to him, tapping on her own. She made a twisting motion.

Feeling for the emblem of the Rito Fliers on his knit hat, he pulled it off and retied his sloppily thrown-in ponytail before returning the hat so that the emblem was back in the center.

Finally, the employee came up to the door and stared at Link with equally weary eyes. Link didn’t recognize him, but honestly, he could have been at the party too, given his age and his general disposition that seemed ready to just die a little bit.

He let out a heavy sigh and unlocked the door.

Aryll didn’t even give him enough time to get out of the way before she’d accosted him.

“Hi! One adult and one child please! And we’ll need to rent skates!”

“I’m not skating,” Link muttered, grabbing the rupees. If he could avoid the skate rental and the admission fee, he could pocket the rest of the rupees.

Aryll glared at him as though he’d just told her that he’d killed her best friend. “You’re skating with me, or I’ll tell mom and dad that you didn’t. I’ll call them right now!”

Grimacing, Link handed over the rest of the rupees and told the man their sizes before turning toward Aryll’s smug expression. “No one wants to be friends with a dirty rat, you know.”

“I’m not dirty. And I haven’t told anyone yet, so I’m not technically a rat either.”

“No one wants to be friends with a smart mouth.”

“At least I’m smart.”

He made a face and leaned heavily against the counter until the guy returned with their skates. Link took them while Aryll bolted through the doors and into the rink.

It was freezing.

The chill hadn’t been enough to wake him up, but it was enough to make him a bit more alert. He looked around the deserted room, his footsteps echoing in the silence and making him more self-conscious than he already was about being here. What if Mipha saw him here? Would she laugh at him for his inability to skate? Would she make fun of him for spending the first day of his vacation with his little sister? Would she even notice he was there?

Not that any of that mattered. Mipha was dating Revali.

It was just a crush. On the most popular girl in school. Who was also gorgeous. But he’d never even said three words to her, so why would she care if he was here anyway?

“Hey! Link! Come on! Give me my skates!”

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, he descended the stairs and tossed Aryll’s skates in front of her.

“Rude.”

“That’s for making me actually skate and blackmailing me.”

“I’ve seen you skate, Link. If you can even call it skating. It’s more like shuffling.”

“Shut up.”

Aryll grinned while she slid into her skates, testing them out before heading to the door onto the ice.

“Hey, wait!” Link called, gesturing to the spot in front of him.

“What?”

Link set his shoes down and knelt on the ground. “Put your foot up. It’s like mom never taught you to tie shoes.”

Groaning, Aryll threw her head back and set her skate against Link’s leg so he could retie it. The force that he pulled at the strings had her jerking back in surprise, and nearly toppling over, but she kept her balance and watched Link as he knotted the laces a few times. Admittedly, it did feel like a better fit when he was done.

“Other one.”

He shook his head as he pulled the loose strings. “Honestly, I thought you knew what you were doing.” He pulled the laces and Aryll swayed again.

“I do! I’m just… not the best shoe-tier.”

Satisfied, he patted the side of her foot. “Okay; go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute. But you know you’re kind of on your own, right?”

“Oh, I know!” she laughed, finally gliding onto the ice with an ease that Link was reluctant to admit he envied.

He put his own skates on slowly, glancing up every now and then to make sure Aryll hadn’t cracked her head open or anything terrible like that. He’d have no idea how to get to her if something happened, but she had been adamant that her classes made her good enough to know how to fall and how to jump and how to glide.

No one else knew how to ice skate, so sending Link was as good as sending anyone else with her. Plus, despite their occasional snippiness, Link would protect Aryll with his life, and their parents knew that enough to trust him alone with her at an ice rink. He’d find a way onto that ice faster than someone could call an ambulance.  

Link let out a deep breath again and set his phone inside his shoe before standing up. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered. He could do this, for sure.

That attitude went out the window the second his first skate hit the ice.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, already unsteady with one foot still on land. Land? Is that what it was called now?

“Sound carries in here!” Aryll chided, swishing by him tauntingly.

He waited until she was on the opposite side of the rink before clutching the boards for dear life, throwing his other foot over and slipping like was… on ice, he supposed. His feet couldn’t stabilize, and it was all up to his arms to hold him up until he managed to regain his balance.

Sliding his hand along the boards, he pulled himself as far as he could until the plexiglass took over, and he was forced to slide his fingers into the narrow gap for any grip.

He hadn’t lifted his legs yet, but he was where the net would be in hockey, so he let go for a second and glanced back at Aryll. “Better than you thought I could do, huh?”

She skated up to him and then turned herself backwards, judging him with her arms across her chest as she disappeared.

“Critic,” he muttered, trying to lift his foot. He could only manage to get his right off the ground, and he kept trying to dig the front of his skate into the ice to push himself forward, because that’s what everyone in those videos Aryll made him watch with her last night did. He managed a shuffle, and every time he felt himself going, he grabbed for that little spot under the glass to steady himself, and then dragged himself along.

“You really suck,” Aryll said on her next pass.

“Hey! Language! You’re like, five!”

“I’m not five!” she called back. It was a running joke between them because Link needed to do math to figure out Aryll’s age. He always had to subtract six years from his own age to figure hers out, but she still seemed younger to him. Maybe she’d always be that way just because he was the oldest. Maybe, she’d be in her thirties one day and Link would still think she was a teenager.

It took a long time and several taunts from Aryll, but Link made it around the whole rink once, while Aryll had probably circled it nearly two hundred times. He’d gone around again, but he was stopped, watching Aryll practice her jumps when he heard the echo of footsteps entering the rink.

It was a public place, he knew, but they’d gone early to avoid people, not to share.

But wow, any semblance of annoyance he had disappeared when he saw the girl hurrying down the steps with a gym bag slung over her shoulder.

She had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, and really that was all Link could see from that distance, but he did have a thing for blondes, and that was all he needed to feel an instant infatuation. But of course, his nerves shot up tenfold because now there was a hot blonde who’d watch him not know how to skate and probably fall on his ass.

He dragged himself around a bit more, trying to just keep his eyes on his feet instead of on her, but he was a sucker and glanced up.

She was watching Aryll with a fond smile on her face before she stood up and moved onto the ice.

Link shivered while he looked her over. She had a loose short-sleeved shirt on, her sports bra straps showing on her shoulders, and she was in a pair of leggings that hugged her a little too perfectly. He groaned to himself. She had to be hot. Physically, not temperature wise because honestly, she looked like she might be pretty cold.

After pulling himself along a little more—and then trying to shuffle his feet rather than drag himself like he was trying to lead a stubborn horse—he needed to pause to rest. So, he watched Aryll and the girl skate around the rink.

The girl neared him as she was making a turn around the rink, like a warmup, and smiled shyly at him when she noticed his gaze on her.

Shit. She probably didn’t want to be watched just as much as he didn’t. And Goddess, her eyes had been so green they’d nearly made him do a double take. But no! No double takes! She didn’t want to be watched!

It wasn’t until he heard Aryll’s loud “Whoa!” that he looked back out, clutching the boards again as he whipped his head and lost his balance. He expected to see Aryll on the ground, but she was just watching the other girl in awe. And honestly, so was Link.

She was spinning, but not like a normal person. Her arms were tucked against her chest and she spun like those people on the television who competed for medals and awards.

Her arms went out gracefully as she ended it like it was no big deal. Like she didn’t look like someone had just perfectly spun a coin.

She smiled at Aryll, and Goddess above, her smile was gorgeous and inviting and why did she have to be here?

The girl then leaped, some sort of near perfect split in the air before landing and sending Aryll another grin.

“How do you do that?” Aryll asked.

“Aryll!” Link called, chastising her. “Let the lady practice in peace.”

“No, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with you,” she said, stopping just in front of him.

Oh, she was so much prettier up close: freckles that scattered along her face, her long hair tied back into a much better ponytail than his own, glowing skin, impressive muscles. And she wasn’t too bad in the… no, he had to keep his eyes up! Only to be captured in her green ones. Expectant.

“What?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer from him, but entirely forgetting the question.

“I don’t want to talk to her or help her out if you’re not okay with it. That’s all. You are with her, right?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking at Aryll’s clear eavesdropping expression as she pretended to be distracted, though her eager face gave her away. “Yeah, go ahead. She likes all that… spinning stuff.”

The girl bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at ‘spinning stuff.’ Goddess, he was stupid. What a stupid thing to say to someone who clearly knows what they’re doing.

He kept shuffling, trying in earnest now to block out their conversation so he could focus on the simple task of going forward.

His attention was torn between making sure Aryll wasn’t being kidnapped and wondering how he’d ever cross the rink to save her if she was. But all he saw was the girl demonstrating something before Aryll tried it, and the girl’s face lit up as she clapped in encouragement.

The entrance of the rink was back in his sight, so he was less concerned about watching Aryll and more focused on his feet.

Which is why he didn’t see the girl until she was right in front of him.

“You should move away from the boards and look up rather than at your feet. It’ll help.”

Even her voice was gorgeous. Goddess above…

“I’ll fall,” he said simply, his hand still on the board.

“Yeah. You have to fall.”

“You haven’t fallen and you’re doing all those… spins. So I don’t think that logic works.”

The girl skated backwards in front of him. “Do you really think I haven’t fallen?”

“No, of course not,” he muttered. Someone who was that good had to have learned through a few spills over the years.

“Then trust me. Look up and get away from the boards. Stop worrying about falling.”

She skated back over to Aryll, demonstrating something else for his sister to try.

With their attention diverted, he pushed away from the boards and kept his eyes on the wall straight ahead.

And promptly felt his skates slide away from him, wide and uneven, throwing him entirely off balance until he hit the ice with a hard thud.

Knowing that both their eyes were on him now, he tried to get to his feet quickly, but that only ended with him slipping and hitting his chin on the ground. So, face burning with utter embarrassment, he rested his forehead against his arm so he could scream internally for a hot second before trying again.

When he looked up, the girl was crouched down in front of him. “Do you need help?”

He could either: stay on the ice like a flattened pancake, or let the hot girl realize that he really is an embarrassment for being unable to get to his own feet.

Looking back at her, he was struck by how she didn’t smile. She wasn’t laughing at him, or enjoying his pain. She wasn’t pitying him either. She just looked… like this was normal.

“Y-yeah,” he found himself saying, taking her outstretched hand.

He shuddered at the contact of her skin on his. She helped him flip onto his stomach and then to his knees before she pulled him up. “Is this your first time skating?”

Lie, or tell the truth?

Something about her wide, earnest green eyes had him sucking up his pride. “No, I just suck.”

“Everyone sucks at the beginning. Once you get it, you’ll be flying like the Rito,” she laughed, tapping the emblem on his hat. Then she blushed furiously, her whole face turning a shade of pink as she let go of his hand and moved backwards. “Sorry. Personal space issues sometimes when I’m on the rink.”

“No, it’s okay,” he muttered, unable to get his voice any louder. His hands were out to steady himself, but he slipped again, landing on his knee.

This time, she did smile, but it was soft and she held her hand out again.

“Your sister could teach you. She said she’s been taking skating lessons for a while.”

Scoffing harshly, Link shook his head and glanced at Aryll, who was blissfully making loops around the rink, unconcerned with them. But he took her hand again.

This time, she didn’t let go. She shook it. “I’m Zelda.”

He glanced at their clasped hands and raised his eyebrows, shocked that she was even telling him her name. “Link.”

She gave him a tug before letting go of him, letting him coast in the momentum. “So, you… um… go to school around here?”

He looked back at his feet so they didn’t get away from him, but he heard Zelda tsk, so he looked back at her. “Yeah. I’m in my last year at Faron High.”

Her smile broadened. “I’m in my last year at Labrynna!”

Hot, kind, and his own age.

Link took her in, suddenly feeling guilty; as much as he wanted to fall again just so she’d offer her hand one more time, he didn’t know her. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. Thanks for helping.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, glancing at Aryll for a while. “I’m always here, so it’s nice to have a different morning. And I like meeting new people.”

And just like that, the guilt faded away from him. “Always here? You a professional skater?”

“Not professional,” she said, offering her hand again. “I’ve done competitions.”

This time, he didn’t know why she was offering, so he hesitated before getting sucked in by her genuine smile. She tugged him again and he started to glide with her again.

He chuckled and kept his eyes off his feet. “You good at it?” Zelda raised an eyebrow, so he quickly waved his hands. “I-I mean, you looked incredible, but anyone who can move forward deserves a medal in my eyes. So, my comparisons aren’t great.”

Zelda bit her lip and shrugged. “I’ve done well.”

That, Link knew, was code for ‘yes, I’m very good,’ but from someone far humbler than himself.

After checking on Aryll, Zelda nodded to herself as she looked over Link. “You’re doing better already.”

“I am?” he asked, glancing at his feet.

Which, of course, sent him lurching forward until he hit the ice.

Zelda giggled this time, covering her mouth to try to stifle it. “I’m sorry! I threw off your focus!”

Link groaned and made it halfway to his feet before taking her hand this time. Well, he was getting better at falling anyway.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, she held out her other hand. “I can help keep you balanced so you can try moving your feet.”

One more hit, and Link was sure he’d wake up from this dream. Because what was even happening right now?

Well, if this was a dream, might as well go for it. And if it wasn’t… what could he do that’s more embarrassing than he’d already done?

So, he took her hand.

She pulled him with her for a moment before gesturing to his feet. “You should try… you know… skating.”

“Right,” he said, admittedly holding her a little tighter as he tried to push off the ice but stumbled.

She steadied him, but before he knew it, she was clicking her tongue at him again. “Link, stop looking at your feet.”

The sound of his name on her lips had his head jerking up far faster than he meant to. He was like an eager puppy, and he knew it.

Once they’d gone around a little more, Zelda loosened her grip. “I’m going to let go. Keep going. You’re doing really good.”

He blew out some air as she released him, and his arms shot out to his sides to keep him steady. But he was doing it. He was going forward.

He couldn’t help the triumphant little laugh that escaped from his lips.

“So, you’re not hopeless after all!” Aryll said as she skated beside him. “It’s taken him forever to figure this out! I even tried to show him videos yesterday.”

Defensive, Link glared at Aryll. “I tried to do it their way. But I couldn’t figure out the toe thing.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow again. “Toe thing?”

“Yeah, they kept pushing off with their toe or something, but I can’t get it.”

Goddess, Zelda was perfect, because she lifted her foot up to show off her skate while still skimming backwards in front of him. “This thing?” she asked, pointing to a sharp barb looking thing in the front of the blade.

“Yeah, they pushed off with that, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

Zelda laughed again as she set her foot down. “These are for figure skating. The ones you have on are for hockey. No toe pick. They’re different.”

“They are?” he asked, trying—and failing—to get a good look at his own skates. “I thought they were all the same.”

“They’re not,” she said, her cheeks pinching her eyes with her smile. “You know, you’ve been skating this whole time without falling.”

“It’s a miracle,” Aryll muttered.

Link turned to her with a glare. “You’d better watch it, because when I get really good, I’m going to pick you up and throw you across the ice, and you better know how to stick that landing or you’ll end up on your ass.”

“First off, language,” Aryll huffed. “Second off, that sounds fun, so go ahead.”

He scoffed and playfully pushed her, though it did little more than throw him off balance for a moment. And when he looked up, he could see that people were starting to come into the rink quickly.

Zelda sighed and watched them with a sad expression. “I know them. They always just completely take over the ice. It’s a pain.”

Link finally stopped moving when he saw who it was. Mipha, Revali, and their friends were laughing boisterously as they took their seats in the bleachers to get their skates on.

Zelda looked between them and Link. “Do you know them?”

“Kind of. They go to my school, but we don’t talk.”

Zelda stared at them, specifically at Mipha, before muttering to herself. “Wow. She’s really pretty. I’d kill to look like her.”

Looking Zelda  over, Link was glad that Aryll had taken a turn around the rink without them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the courage to say anything if she’d been around as his audience.

“I know a stranger’s opinion isn’t worth anything but… personally, I prefer blondes.”

Whipping around, an incredulous look on her face, Zelda lost her balance and fell back onto the ice. She barely seemed like she noticed, pulling her legs up to her so she could stare open mouthed at Link until she regained her composure.

Her face was bright red, and she couldn’t quite meet Link’s eyes as she laughed to herself. But finally, she worked up to it and her gaze had him pinned.

“Yeah, I do too.”

Link nodded nervously before he started to chuckle and held his hand out to help her up.

She took it as a courtesy, but got up on her own so she didn’t pull him down when he’d spent so long getting his balance.

This time, when their hands lingered too long, the energy between them was palpable, and both of them were blushing.

Aryll skated up to them. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Windy’s?”

Link glanced apologetically at Zelda, and she followed them back to the gate, watching as they both pulled at the laces in much the same aggressively impatient manner. It had her grinning.

“You know,” she said when Link stood up. “I’m here at 7:30 whenever there isn’t school. I’ll be here tomorrow, if Aryll would like some more help.”

Her eyes were distinctively flirty, and Link was beyond glad that Aryll was still too young to recognize it, because she gasped in excitement. “Can we, Link?”

He didn’t look at Aryll, too entranced by Zelda’s blatant invitation. “We’ll ask mom, but if she says you can, I’ll bring you. If not… I might just come here alone.” His lips tipped up, and he prayed that the red in his cheeks and down his neck just looked like it was from the cold.

“No fair! But mom will say yes if you’re bringing me so she can go back to sleep!”

Link didn’t even realize how awake he’d become since Zelda came into the rink.

Zelda pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ears that had come free in her fall. “Okay then. I’ll see you both tomorrow. For lessons.”

Aryll beamed. “Maybe you can come for lunch with us tomorrow?”

Zelda bit her lip and looked over at Link, who was now staring at the floor so she couldn’t see his expression. But she thought he was cute when he was nervous. “Link? What do you think?”

Forced to look up at her, he knew she could see how eager he was to just straight out say yes. It was all over his face, and burning in his eyes. “If you’d like to,” he said carefully. “I have no objections.” He finished sliding his normal shoes back on before standing up.

“Okay. I look forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow Aryll. Link.”

He stepped forward, a little too close to where she leaned on the board. “Zelda.”

Her mouth dropped into a smile as he used her name for the first time.

Link patted Aryll’s shoulder to lead her up the stairs before taking one more look behind him at Zelda.

They were halfway up the steps when Link pointed to Aryll. “Do not tell mom that there is a pretty girl involved.”

But Aryll smiled. “Your voice carries, Link.”

Spinning around on the stairs, he saw Zelda beaming as she giggled. But she—thankfully—pushed off the board and twirled once before skating away, her eyes on them until she no longer could see where they stood.

And when Link glanced at Mipha as they passed, and he felt that his infatuation with her had faded to near nothing from the time he’d gotten out of the car to the time he got into it once again. He knew he was doomed. because the only one on his mind now was Zelda.

He’d never been more excited to set an early alarm.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

As you all are (hopefully) aware, I hate the idea of James dying, I loath it with every fiber of my entire being. I would do just about anything to make it not happen if I could. However, IF CRWBY insists James HAS to die, he deserves to die fighting not lowering his gun and giving up. So if I was asked how would I write James’s death I would have it happen in Volume 7 during the Watts vs Ironwood fight.

(More below the cut because this gets rambely and turns into a bit of a rewrite for End of volume 7 and some of 8 oops. I was trying to keep certain key things as close as possible to the show.)

So hear me out. The fight can generally go t same as it did in the show with James and Watts pointing their guns at each other and James lowering his weapon. Instead of Watts shoving him into the trap though, he thought James would come alone so Tyrian has been waiting and ambushes and kills James before he can do anything to stop him. And to add to the chaos, Watts managed to hack the tower to broadcast James’s death across Atlas and Mantel which would add to the fear and negativity bringing another wave of Grimm to attack.

In the middle of the chaos, Qrow, Clover and Robyn stare at the screen in shock, unable to believe James is dead and they, and all of Atlas and Mantel, had to watch it happen right in front of them, with them all helpless to do anything to save him. Qrow is in chaos, seconds from falling apart and so beyond angry. The anger quickly wins out and all he can think to do is tear apart the monsters that took James from him and Clover is in a very similar state. Robyn stays behind to help Mantel as Clover and Qrow race to the tower. 

Meanwhile Ruby is having a crisis of her own. James is dead and he was the one with a plan, the one who knew what to do and he was gone now and everything was already falling apart. Just when Ruby finally realized she could trust him and really work with him he was killed and Ruby can’t help but wonder if maybe it was her fault. What if she trusted him sooner? What if she had been honest from the start? He might not have been so stressed from just learning everything before dealing with Watts. People where scared and crying and the army is struggling to keep up the fight, all mourning the loss of not only their general but the man who taught them and guided them for so long. If someone like James who trained and was the best of them, what chance did they have of wining the war?

Qrow and Clover make it to the tower before Watts can finish doing what he’s doing so they start fighting Watts and Tyrian. Qrow is pure rage as he attacks Tyrian who keeps laughing maniacally and mocking Qrow over James’s death, making cracks about “how good was he really? It wasn’t hard to kill him.” And Qrow can barely think straight from his rage which is what Tyrian wants so he’s able to disarm Qrow and Clovers aura breaks. However Clover is able to knock Tyrian out as he takes a moment to mock Qrow some more as he tries to kill him.

With both Watts and Tyrian seemingly taken care of, Qrow allows himself a moment to completely break down beside James’s body, apologizing and begging him to come back. Clover himself is numb as he goes to cuff Tyrian only for him to suddenly jerk up and grab Qrows weapon and stab Clover with it. Like in the show, Tyrian mocks Qrow and says this is all his fault with leaves Qrow to stunned to do anything besides let Tyrian run off laughing because he’s right. Qrow let his guard down, didn’t keep his semblance in check like he should have, he let it scream out in pain with him when he knew Clovers aura had broken and he had no protection.

Back in Atlas, the council frantically elects someone to take James’s place to in a desperate attempt to restore some semblance of order and hope back. This new general can be and act like V8 James or hell even worse because he’s a new character and therefore one could do whatever the fuck to him. I like the idea of him being a selfish power hungry asshole who actually only cares for the elite. Once he’s given power he immediately starts calling some of the troops back to Atlas despite Mantel needing every fighter they can get to deal with the swarm of Grimm, the new general doesn’t care he claims Atlas needs some protection in case the Grimm come their to attack as well. He calls RWBY and the Ace Ops to his office to introduce himself and give new orders since he knows these where people James trusted and he wants to make sure they know James is gone and he’s in charge now.

At the tower Qrow is arrested because his weapon is covered in blood and they think he killed Clover which Qrow doesn’t deny because he blames himself. Wattss briefcase and Watts are both also taken with the briefcase being brought to the new general.

When he was elected the council likely briefed him on the maidens and relics (I’m pretending James told them about that as well) so HES ordered Winter to get the maiden powers to defend and protect Atlas. This upsets Ruby because she knows James was prioritizing keeping the maiden safe for now so Salem couldn’t get to her and the general informs Ruby that he’s in charge now and this is his plan, use the maiden to bring peace to Atlas and Ruby asks “what about Mantel?” And he says that they have Penny. Ruby points out that Mantel is taking the brunt of Grimm attacks and should be protected from the Grimm better and the general asks why because everything important is in Atlas and that should be what’s protected. This of course leads to a massive fight between everyone.

Like in the episode Salem appears and seeing James is gone knows Watts managed to kill him and mocks them with how “replaceable” James was and the Ace Ops are both terrified and enraged. The new general, not fully understanding Salem’s power is cocky and thinks he’s better then James and can therefore beat her.

Salem is amuses by his cockiness and says she will enjoy beating him when she arrives in Atlas. This could go a few ways and be interesting with either the general deciding to stand his ground and fight Salem but pull all soldiers to defend Atlas and leave Mantel completely unprotected or Ruby convinced him of the danger and he decides to use the staff to move Atlas and again leave Mantel vulnerable. Either way this would cause the rift between RWBY and the general and so they would again be ordered to be arrested with the Ace Ops uncertain in the fight because they don’t trust this new general but also they feel they have to follow orders even if they don’t like them.

Later on the general takes due process for himself, much to the anger of the Ace Ops and Winter who say they don’t belong to him and the general icily reminds them James won’t need them any longer and uses them to make the dumb Gungun so Emerald can have her cool moment whatever. He could also use them to kill both Camilla and Sleet who tried to argue with him about his plan whichever we go with so he kills them both so he doesn’t have to answer to anyone.

As in the show Penny gets the maiden powers so the general scolds Winter and demands to know if this really is James’s best? And starts talking about “no wonder he could never get anything done if his best is so weak and useless.” He then orders all troops to leave Mantel to defend Atlas because this is the plan he comes up with or he can’t get into the vault. He also orders the arrest of Robyn since she is also technically a council member and she is caught and arrested and is once again with Qrow he is consumed with grief and self hatred. Robyn has to remind him it’s not his fault what happened to James or Clover. James knee the danger but went alone anyways because he cared about ensuring Mantel was safe and Clover chose to go with Qrow to ensure James’s death was avenged and it’s again not Qrows fault because he chose to go. Then Qrow snaps and tells her about his semblance and how it is actually his semblances fault because it always is. Then instead of being an annoying bitch and comparing his semblance to hers she talks about how Clover knee about his semblance and still went with him and didn’t care about it.

Qrow doesn’t really believe her but he also realizes Mantel is in danger and discovers Salem is coming (how is up to you) so he lets his semblance out and it causes their cells to open so they can escape and go to Mantel to try and help. Honestly from here the volume can go pretty similarly with some minor changes of Ruby and co doing what they do because this new general doesn’t care about keeping people safe he only cares about power for himself. Winter and the Ace Ops hate this guy but work with him because they think it’s what James would want until they realize James did not want this guy to ever get into power because James saw how power hungry he was OR Winter and the Ace Ops realize that James is gone but they can’t keep trying to do what he would want because he isn’t here anymore and they don’t really know what he would do so they have to act for themselves because it’s what he would want and later still realize James didn’t want this guy in power because he saw he was power hungry and didn’t trust him with any sort of power.

This is kind of rambly and all over the place but I just kind of wanted to get the basic idea out their. Having someone go to the extreme and do horrible things is fine but it has to make sense for the character, it doesn’t make sense for James to do all of this and since he’s been slotted to be killed off why not make it actually have an impact on people and use that opportunity to then bring in the character they twisted James into instead so it actually makes sense and works. I’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas (and if you guys would like a part two with more details and the little things in volume 8 that might change as such).

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 2 (Nessian AU)

A/N: DO inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse and Swearing

1957 words | Part 1 | Read on AO3

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

Cassian was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He waited for the day he would forget the woman’s face. He waited for the day he could close his eyes without seeing her blue-grey eyes blazing in anger. He waited for the day he wouldn’t burn his bacon because he was thinking about her.

He had mused, how the face of a stranger was branded into his mind vividly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered if they’ve known each other before or have seen each other somewhere, anywhere before the day in the mall—even if on photographs or at an event or at another shopping mall. Still, he desperately wanted to forget about her. He wanted to forget that she ever existed. He wanted to forget their encounter in the mall that day. He wanted to forget everything about her, even though deep down, he knew what he wanted was far from forgetting her.

But he couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford to think about her at all times. He was getting distracted at work. His part-time job as a martial-arts instructor and as a sommelier was in a precarious position if it went on like this. He nearly tore one of his student’s muscles in his centre and got at least 5 orders wrong at the restaurant he was working at.

On a Saturday noon, Cassian decided the best way to clear his head was to dive into a war book or reread Secrets Of The Sommeliers for probably the millionth time.

* * *

Nesta flinched at the sudden ping of the oven timer. Again. She’d been thinking about him again. This was the fourth time in the whole week when she burned her cheese sandwich and she was getting so tired of this. She urgently needed a way to stop thinking about him. To stop seeing his insufferable grin whenever she closed her eyes. To stop thinking about him at almost all times.

It struck her as odd, the fact they didn’t even know each other’s names but she kept seeing his face as if they’ve known each other before. She gasped. What if they had known each other before? What if they were probably neighbours from Nesta’s old house or classmates or maybe they went to the same college. Nesta shook her head.

But why should she care? No, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what his name is or if he even has a name. She doesn’t care if she’s had the misfortune of seeing him before or if that was the first she’s seeing him. Or so she kept telling herself. She couldn’t afford to have him occupy her thoughts. She had better things to do. But all these excuses weren't enough to stop her from still thinking about him.

Nesta looked at her clock. It was a Saturday, almost noon. Maybe reading a spicy book or two will help.

* * *

Cassian loved the House of Wind library and bookstore. They had a variety of books in almost any genre. He'll admit though, that some of the librarians here are better left alone. He was lucky he came here often and therefore knew a handful of the merrier librarians. He made a beeline for his favourite section, books related to wine, best books for sommeliers.

On his way to the shelves he had committed to memory, he realised that there was a big poster about their annual Free Premium Membership Fest where 20 fortunate, early birds would get their membership card updated to premium with a number of privileges. Cassian's whole being was elevated. He missed the last fest they held and had been waiting for the next fest. He wondered how he could forget such an important thing. Oh. Right. Of course. A certain lady was occupying his thoughts. He sighed. He forgot about that too.

He was quite disappointed when he reached the counter. The fest started yesterday and the computer stated that there was only one person left till 20. What truly disappointed him was that Clotho wasn't at the counter as she usually was. Maybe she'll be in the—

“If you're done staring at the computer maybe you could deign to move so it can really serve its purpose of being a public property?” Cass froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. This was the voice taunting him at all times. “And if you have coffee in your hands, I'd suggest you turn slowly.”

He smirked. So she knew who she was talking to.

“Well, looks like the damage would be lesser this time since your clothes aren't white,” he observed.

“I figured black would hide stains caused by ogling, clumsy people better than white,” she said. “Now, if you could move, I want to register for the Membership Fest.”

“Register? What do you mean by ‘I want to register for the Membership Fest’?”

“A register, you know,” she teased, “Something like a form where you fill your details if you want to join something?” She smirked at his glare.

“Well,” he said, “if there is a register let me fill it first.”

“Because your ego is bigger?”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he dead-panned. “I came here first.”

“Here as in the counter or the library? Because I’m pretty sure I stepped into this library first.”

Cassian quickly checked the database where the information of all members appeared. He turned back to her with a self-satisfied smirk. “The database shows otherwise, sweetheart.”

She scowled. “I don’t believe you. You might’ve tampered with the information.”

He moved slightly to the side to give her a better view. Her scowled deepened.

She rounded on him. “You,” seethed. “You did—”

“Hello,” a new, shy voice said.

“Hey, Gwyn,” they both said in symphony.

A look of surprise crossed over her features before it faded away. When the woman turned to Gwyn, she wore a huge smile. “Oh, look, she smiles,” he muttered, earning him a glare.

“Is the fest still on?” Cassian asked.

Gwyneth Berdara, one of the joyful librarians here, said, “Unfortunately, not. We just got our 20th member.”

Cassian’s face fell. He noticed the same of the woman too. Gwyn, always the optimistic one, said cheerfully, “Maybe we could reserve one for the both of you next year?”

They both murmured their assent before Gwyn offered her farewell and went back to the staffroom.

The woman turned back to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed and stalked out of the library, leaving Cassian more confused than ever.

* * *

Nesta went to the library to find solace or at least a semblance of it. Seeing the man there, however, left Nesta more rattled than she would care to admit. Rattled, and angry. Angry at the universe for giving them these unfortunate encounters. Angry at him for following her wherever she went. Angry at herself for feeling such futile emotions. Angry at her body for reacting to him.

She was also upset that she didn’t get a free premium member cr

Nesta was so occupied with her thoughts and emotions that she didn’t realise she was taking the wrong route. She wasn’t familiar with this part of Velaris. She also didn’t realise she was being followed. It was distinct, the sound of hushed breathing, of the soft thuds of footfalls. The footsteps sounded heavier which most probably meant it was a man. She couldn’t really be sure, though. This was a person who was not experienced in stalking but was trying hard enough.

Nesta knew she shouldn’t panic but couldn’t help the bout of fear that crashed through her. Nesta tried to stay calm. She tried to make sure she didn't quicken her pace. She tried, cauldron, she really did. But her fear was slowly overpowering her senses. She felt the urge to run away from her stalker.

But that wouldn’t be wise. Running away from her stalker isn’t a good choice. It wasn’t smart. Who’s to know he wasn’t armed? What if he was faster than her? What if her stalker was faster than her? He might be stronger too. He could over power her and cage her in. She didn’t even know what his motive was.

Then, Nesta made a ridiculously huge, dumb mistake. She turned to an abandoned alley. At least it looked abandoned. She let out a frustrated breath. Running away was at least better than getting stuck in an alley. So much for ‘that wouldn't be wise’. She looked around, trying to get a sense of where she was or if there were any means of escape, however meager it might be.

Suddenly, she was slammed to the alley wall. The rough cold stone was unforgiving and unyielding under her cheek. Her windpipe was closed off and she was struggling to get some air in. She fought to get free but her captor —a man, as she guessed— was too strong. Somehow, his hands felt familiar to her. As if she were long acquainted with this person’s touch.

“What do you want?” she gasped out.

He chuckled, the sound grating through her very bones.

“My little Nesta,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting the shell of her ear. “Ever the stubborn one.”

That voice. It was one that she couldn’t forget as hard as she tried. Tomas Mandray, her ex-boyfriend, was someone not easily forgotten.

“Tomas,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to be nice. Not now, not after how he treated her. “What the fuck do you want? Let me go.”

“I see you haven’t changed at all.”

“I can say the same of you.”

“Mhm. You broke up with me and then you called the police. Got me stuck behind bars for two fucking months.”

“Good riddance,” she muttered.

He slammed her head against the wall. Hard. Blinding pain shot through her. He yanked her hair so hard she was afraid chunks of it came out. Her head only throbbed harder.

“Manners were never your cup of tea,” he hissed.

“You were not that kind either. You were an empowering, possessive bastard and I don’t regret watching you grovel to the police for freedom for one fucking moment and I won’t ever.”

He growled and slammed her head against the wall again. She cried out and was pretty sure she heard something crack. She felt the metallic tang of blood on her lips, streaming from her nose freely.

“Oh, you will. You’ll regret everything. Every. Single. Thing. For your whole god-damned life. I’ll make sure of it, bitch,” he promised.

He tightened his grip on her hair that sent another wave of agony through her. She caught the glint of something in the fading sunlight. A knife. Of course he had a knife.

He had a knife while she was a mess, kneeling on an alley, completely at the mercy of one of the people who hated her the most. Pathetic. So, so, pathetic. She hated herself for whimpering. She hated herself for being this weak. She hated that she had gotten panicked enough that she turned to an alley, where no one would know.

Here, in this unknown alley, with the person she hated the most, Nesta Archeron was going to die. She was going to die a death as unknown as the place she was in. Maybe even without her sisters knowing. Shit. Her sisters. If only she showed all her love to sweet Elain and brave Feyre, if only she even went to meet her brother-in-laws, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, maybe things would’ve been different. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion in her throat. I’m sorry Elain, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, I’m so, so sorry, was the last thing in her head before she felt acute pain and succumbed to the dragging talons of oblivion.

taglist:

@im-someone-i-guess @shadowsinger07 @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele

[jam-is-my-food]

never gonna give you up (a scythe astley fic)

when scythe curie was just a junior scythe, the beloved scythe rick astley—the only scythe who was ever allowed to communicate with the thunderhead—self-gleaned. marie will never forget her childhood idol—but he may be closer than she thinks.

takes place mid-thunderhead; spoilers for thunderhead.

word count: 1,295

dedicated to @i-love-side-characters for her incredible 5am drabble. thank you akki. truly a service to humankind.

Takes place in the middle of the scene in Thunderhead where Goddard reveals that he is still kiCkiN' at conclave. This is very crack. And a fix-it fic. I hope you enjoy.

“I wish to nominate Honorable Scythe Robert Goddard for High Blade of MidMerica.”

Silence for a moment … then a few chuckles, but they weren’t derisive. They were nervous.

“Brahms,” said Xenocrates slowly, “in case you’ve forgotten, Scythe Goddard has been dead for over a year now.”

And then the heavy bronze doors of the conclave chamber slowly began to open.

Scythe Curie drew in a sharp breath, willing her heart rate to slow. This was ridiculous, clearly some sort of diversion tactic planned by the new order. To even react in the slightest was preposterous; her body was showing its age, another reminder she needed to turn a corner soon.

But then in strode the incinerated scythe, and Marie knew even the frailest of bodies wasn’t capable of a hallucination so horrible.

Rumors began to trickle through the room. Gasps. Whispers. Cheers. The man who could not be Scythe Goddard moved down the center aisle, gait looser than Marie remembered. The worries of becoming High Blade, of being placed in the position only because of her past actions, slipped suddenly into the furthest thing on Curie’s mind. This was impossible. She was supposed to be watching out for Scythe Nietzsche, and Nietzsche didn’t have the votes. This could not be.

And yet it was. They had entered the worst of all possible worlds.

Entering the chamber in Goddard’s wake was a familiar figure in bright green. Scythe Rand was alive, too? Eyes now looked to the open bronze doors, expecting that Scythes Chomsky and Volta might also return from the dead today, but that was not who next entered the chamber.

No, this was another figure. A figure even more impossible.

In the years before Curie was born, the world was chock-full of turmoil. Although the Thunderhead had revealed itself some time ago, humans were still clinging on to government and power. The scythedom, only in its founding years, was still mistrusted. And black market revivals for those who had been gleaned—a problem all but forgotten to history now—were all the rage.

It had been becoming a bigger and bigger issue, from what Marie knew; the Thunderhead believed it was under the scythedom’s jurisdiction to deal with, while the fledgling scythedom was relying on the Thunderhead to solve it. What was essentially breathing life back into the gleaned single-handedly rendered the entire scythedom useless. And though the Thunderhead was beginning to engineer safe space travel solutions, it needed a backup in case of failure.

So the first (and, to date, only) scythe-Thunderhead ambassador was chosen.

Marie had idolized Scythe Astley throughout her childhood. Apprenticed under Scythe Sappho herself, Astley—whose Patron Historic was a largely-forgotten mortal-age musician—was a man not only of the scythedom and the Thunderhead but of the people. And not in the phony, self-serving way of the current new order, but honestly, genuinely. After helping the Thunderhead and founding scythes engineer a solution to the black-market problem—which, once they’d found a means of communication, was relatively simple; the Thunderhead would shut down all operations and the scythedom glean anyone who dared involve themself—he stayed wildly well-known. The Thunderhead continued to speak to him and only him, and once he self-gleaned refused to choose another ambassador. The scythedom and the Thunderhead would remain separate entities, it declared, this time for good. Nobody could replace Astley, one of the few truly-beloved scythes.

Scythe Curie could remember the day he self-gleaned. It felt tragic, doubly so knowing now that the scythedom had so thoroughly shoved his memory under the rug. Prominent scythes didn’t want anyone new to know conversing with the Thunderhead was anything short of impossible, and somehow he had just been … forgotten.

But Marie remembered him. His love of ice cream. His iconic robe, fashioned to look as though it were a suit. His studded, intricately-designed dark leather dress shoes.

The same shoes that were tapping their way through the conclave chamber now.

It couldn’t be.

“Astley!” Marie breathed, words sticking in her throat. She saw Anastasia shoot her a confused glance, completely unaware as to the identity of this new key player. She’d never told her about Scythe Astley.

Around the room, similar gasps of shock were passing around. Many scythes, however, were like Anastasia; they ignored this new man and focused their attentions back on Goddard—who looked positively furious at being overshadowed. “What is this?” he shouted, a vein in his neck pulsing.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Scythe Astley responded smoothly. He reached his hand into a pocket and pulled out a large pin with his own face on it. Scythe Astley isn’t ghastly! it read in garishly cartoonish print.

And now Goddard’s face had truly paled. “Scythe Astley? But—but you self-gleaned, years ago!”

“Yeah, no I didn’t.” Astley smirked, drawing his fingers through his impeccably styled ginger hair. “Anyway, you’re one to talk.”

The entire scythedom tittered. Xenocrates, having lost all semblance at control in the room, slowly backed away.

“Who’s this?” Anastasia hissed to Curie, and the Granddame of Death saw her moment.

“Everyone!” she shouted, voice commanding. “This man is Honorable Ambassador-Scythe Rick Astley, apprentice to founding scythe Sappho herself. Show him the respect he deserves.”

“Thank you, Scythe Curie,” Astley said, and Marie blushed as though she were a little girl again. He knew her name!

He stood tall, and the entire scythedom—even Goddard—found themselves bending to accommodate him. “It’s true. I, Scythe Rick Astley, did not truly self-glean. I meant it when I said I was never gonna give you up. No, I’ve simply been waiting for the perfect time to rejoin the scythedom—and that time has come today.”

Astley looked around the conclave chamber thoughtfully, before continuing on. “You see, I and I alone have access to the Thunderhead. I am the single exception to the schism between organizations. With me and the Thunderhead by your sides, I can solemnly swear we’re never gonna let you down.”

He smiled kindly, before giving a disapproving stink-eye. “The Thunderhead and I pronounce Robert Goddard illegible for the position of High Blade, so don’t even try it. We have some problems with that man.”

Scythe Goddard sank to his knees, distraught. “Scythe Astley? You don’t like me? What have I done?”

Astley ignored him, instead moving on to Curie herself. “Therefore, by process of elimination plus nobody cares about that other contestant, I hereby pronounce Honorable Scythe Marie Curie High Blade of MidMerica.”

Marie let in a shocked gasp, tears coming to her eyes. Rick Astley believed in her. “Is this true?”

“I don’t know what’s going on so I guess,” Xenocrates called from the back. “Ima go hop on over to Endura now anyway. I will live a happy and fulfilling life as Grandslayer and hopefully learn to become more than competent. Scythe Goddard will never come for a vacation.”

“Sounds good!” everyone called.

Rowan Damisch and Scythe Volta tiptoed in from the back. The mere presence of the near-god Astley had brought Volta back to life and caused Rowan to escape his bonds. Speaking of, he caught Anastasia’s eye and they started making out passionately. Scythe Curie decided to forgive him because if he was truly bad he too would have been smited by the wrath of Scythe Astley.

“Thank you, Rick,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” he cried, and then repeated, “I’m never gonna give you up!” There was cheering from the crowd, all divisions in the scythedom forgotten. Someone started singing his theme song, the popular mortal-age ditty of his Patron Historic. It was very catchy. He tapped his dress shoes some more.

All was good. At long last, Curie felt herself truly relax. The scythedom was in good hands.

“Now who wants to go grab some ice cream?”

[hb-writes]

There’s Room Enough

Carlisle continued with his reading even as a fifth sigh pushed through his daughter’s lips in only twice as many minutes. He guessed Mia wasn’t quite aware she was doing it. It was the type of thing that often revealed more about her internal states than she willingly disclosed, just like the preoccupied glances out the window and the distinctly cadenced fidgeting Carlisle suspected had little to do with her English homework.

The Shakespeare Mia insisted on sifting through barely registered in her mind, but she still elected for it over actually speaking to her father. She hadn’t fought his guiding hand when they dispersed from the front entryway, giving Bella and Edward their due privacy, but Mia wasn’t interested in a conversation. She had said barely a word to him for the hour since she settled, solitarily occupying the bench seat in front of the wall of windows. It was the furthest spot in the office from her father’s desk, and while they usually occupied the space together while reading, Mia had made it clear she preferred to sit alone.

Carlisle was a patient man, an accommodating father who preferred not to push his children to speak before they were ready, but he was beginning to wonder if his daughter might finally outlast his inclination towards restraint of this particular type. It was only because Mia hadn’t actually done anything wrong that he had waited this long already, her attitude and words though unexpected, no more reprehensible than the turns of phrase that often left Rosalie’s mouth.

Mia glanced up from her book and was surprised to find her father studying his own book rather than her. She was certain she had felt his eyes on her from across the room, could almost hear his questions and concerns falling into the very space between them. She supposed that could have easily all been in her head though, her own line of thinking taking on the guise of her father.

“Are you upset with me?” Mia had been pondering the question since the night before. She knew he wasn’t quite what one would call angry with her. She had never known her father to be an angry sort, but he had to have some feeling on the matter, some opinion he was withholding. 

Carlisle turned to his daughter and shook his head, placing the marker in his book before setting it aside. “Concerned is perhaps a more appropriate word.”  

Mia closed her book as well, crossing her legs as she turned to face him. “Not angry though? So, I’m not in trouble?”

Carlisle gave her a small smile. “Do you think you should be?”

Mia glanced out the window a moment before turning back to him. “Not really, but you brought me here so I thought maybe…”

“You’re not in any trouble. And you could have gone with your mother or one of the others if you liked,” Carlisle offered, “but you said you had work to do.”

Mia tapped her fingers on her legs. “And I couldn’t just go back to my own room because…?”

Carlisle smiled. In all truth, that had little to do with the little outbursts she had spent the last day or so mulling over. He simply thought Mia had spent more than enough of the weekend ruminating over things from behind the closed door of her bedroom. Knowing she was upset, he had allowed her a certain measure of self-pity, taken in the form of overthinking beneath her downy covers, only pulled from the act when Alice forced the girl up and into the shower an hour before Edward and Bella’s arrival.

“Would you find it too stereotypical for a father to believe his adolescent daughter has been spending far too much time alone in her room?”

“You can be alarmingly stereotypical,” Mia conceded, unable to hide the bit of smile his words compelled.

She had a moment, or two, of thinking that the whole situation was a bit stereotypical, despite the oddity of it all, because it essentially boiled down to a bit of uncertain jealousy on her part, a seemingly inconsequential twinge of the shameful feeling growing swiftly over the span of just a few days. And as confusing it was for everyone else to watch, the swell of emotions confused Mia a great deal more.

She knew that the thoughts clouding her mind edged towards illogical, knew that the arguments of her subconscious were essentially baseless. She should have pushed the thoughts aside rather than dwelling with her guards up, willfully blocking Edward and Jasper’s abilities, and keeping her parents and other siblings more traditionally in the dark as well.

And although Mia had expressed that she shouldn’t be in trouble, not for the late-night shouting match with her brother or the cool performance she offered him and Bella in the entryway just before, she could admit to herself that she did feel guilty, and the complicated nature of situation made it difficult to sort out on her own.

“I’m not sorry for saying it,” Mia said as if her father had been privy to the monologue in her head. “He needed to hear it.”

Carlisle allowed a small nod of his head. He thought, perhaps, his daughter may have been correct about that. Edward had needed to be made aware of the sentiment behind his sister's words, had needed to hear how she was feeling and understand the depth of those feelings, but Mia’s methods were not the ones he would have chosen, and it was not how he had expected his daughter to deliver the message either.

“Amel—” Carlisle began only to be cut off, the girl spurred to action by the uttering of her full name.

“No, dad, he—" 

Mia stopped short at meeting her father’s gentle eyes. Though he was about to voice her full name—something he did not do exclusively as a method of restoring order or in seeking compliance, but just as often as a sentimental sort of thing—there was no sign of fight in him, just his genuine patient curiosity. 

Mia knew her father didn’t deserve her fire and she sighed, willing herself back towards some semblance of calm as she mumbled an apology.

Carlisle pushed out of his chair and came to his daughter’s side, settling on the bench with her. "You’re hurting. And your brother’s actions, whether intentional or not, have played a role in that. You let him know in the only way you believed he would hear it.”

Mia leaned into her father, grateful for the assessment she felt wholly unworthy of. Although she had been desperate for Edward to understand, to simply take a moment and actually listen, she hadn’t chosen the particular words for that reason. Mia chose them because she knew she could tap into his guilt through them, hurt him as he was hurting her. She meant to inflict damage.

Carlisle sensed a shift in his daughter at his words and pulled her into his chest as the first whimper escaped her lips. He wasn’t entirely surprised to find that Mia’s opinion on her brother’s attachment had changed. Her sudden jealous anger had puzzled him only until he considered the differences the girl likely assigned to her brother’s seemingly unrequited and then suddenly, very much reciprocated feelings. There was significant uncertainty in it. While all the others had previous experience welcoming someone new to their family, the experience of expanding their circle, most recently for her, Mia had no such understanding.

“Love isn’t finite, Mia.”

It was never difficult for Carlisle to welcome someone new, the love and care coming freely and not at all diminishing what he felt for the others. It could probably be assumed that was the case, but Carlisle knew his daughter’s mind, knew the doubt would creep in without concrete proof, or at least a hardy argument provided to fight against her doubts. Carlisle knew that someday the new love between Bella and Edward would settle and become more manageable for them all. He knew that even should the settling take some time, Edward, though distracted, would care for Mia and their family no less in the interim. But Mia had yet to recognize that, had yet to know it.

She pulled herself from his chest and pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes, willing the tears to stop. “I know, but—”

“Your brother is distracted,” he conceded. “You know, when you came to us we were all a bit distracted too, each of us a bit more focused on being with you than anyone else.”

“I was a baby. It’s different.”

“A little different, yes, but the rationale holds. Everyone created a bit more room to accommodate you, and none of us cared for any of the others any less because of it.”

Mia sat back, settling her chin on her knees as her father continued.

“If what you’re thinking is true, I would have very little care that could be set aside for Edward by now, after welcoming your mother and siblings, and especially after welcoming you.” Carlisle pushed the hair from Mia’s eyes. “Do you understand my meaning?”

Mia glanced up at him. “That there is enough room for both of us?” she mumbled.

Carlisle nodded. “Yes, room enough for you and Bella and anyone else our family should choose to care for.”

Mia nodded a few times, the gesture meant more for herself than for Carlisle. It was a charming and comforting thought, that one’s capacity for love was infinite and could be expanded at will. And Mia knew her father’s words were true. She knew her father loved his children, all of them the same amount. She knew his love had never been diminished by any subsequent additions, herself included.

Without a word, Mia went to collect her father’s book from his desk and handed it off, quickly getting comfortable beside him once again and Carlisle placed his arm around his daughter as she got settled.

Mia didn't speak, but the words were in the air between them, suggested by the girl retrieving his book and settling against him. She was already reading her own book, but Mia’s actions spoke to her father, the translation so clear as she made room for his lesson in her mind and his body beside her on the bench.

I love you, Dad. There’s room enough.

--

Twilight (Mia Cullen) Masterlist

[ikingsley]

Ina x MC: You’re It

Ina x MC: You’re It

Summary: Ina and Luna celebrate their dating anniversary.

Warnings: Fluff! Sorta?

Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1​ @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @kaitlynliaofanxx @barnibumblr

Author’s Notes: Another installment of Ina and Luna’s future series.

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

“Inaaaaaa,” Luna whined.

“Yes?” Ina replied to Luna after quietly whispering into the taxi driver’s ear.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. I promise you’ll like it.”

“So for our dating anniversary, you get to decide on the place without even consulting me? Talk about a power imbalance,” Luna said playfully.

This goddamn woman. Sometimes Ina thought Luna liked teasing her more than she loved her.

“Fine,” Ina huffed. “Do you want to know where we’re going?”

“No! I like the surprise.”

Maddening. Infuriating. Yet after everything, she was still wrapped around her finger.

“You’re something else, aren’t you Lu?”

“I pride myself in being ‘something else.’ You still love me.”

“That, I do.”

A semblance of silence took over the taxi, a first after a whole car ride of playful banter between the women. Instead, the busy outside cacophony took over...a truck horn here, a driver cursing out a pedestrian there...

“We’re here,” the taxi driver announced. 

Ina quickly thanked him and left a generous tip on the app. No one deliberately signed up for meddling in the business of a couple in love. Luna reached for the cab door, but was promptly stopped by Ina.

“Nuh-uh. Wait a second.”

Ina hopped out of the car and rushed to the other side of the cab to open Luna’s door. Despite being cursed at by drivers behind her as she held up traffic, she maintained her calm. There were bigger, more important things than a little traffic holdup, especially today.

“You know, you don’t need to be all formal and chivalrous and whatnot,” Luna said as she took Ina’s hand to get out of the car.

“Believe it or not, that was not my intention. I actually am here to cover your eyes before you see your destination.”

Ina felt Luna roll her eyes. 

“Always with the ulterior motives, huh?” Luna jested.

This time, it was Ina’s turn to play coy. “Maybe, but you love me regardless.”

“I do.”

The two walked a few hundred feet, Ina behind Luna to shield the world from her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for that woman. Ina vowed to protect her at all costs, cherish her, appreciate her, love her endlessly...It’d only been a year since Ina finally had asked her officially to be with her, but somehow, Ina knew. Ina knew that this was the woman of her dreams, someone she would happily spend the rest of her life with. However, they hadn’t had the marriage conversation yet. Hell, they hadn’t even moved in together yet. She knew Luna wanted to get married, but that would be one day. Sometime in the distant future. Luna was considerably younger than Ina, and Ina accepted the fact that she may have to wait several years to pop the question. She’d figured that she’d wait decades to tie the knot if it had come to that. 

“Okay. We’re here,” Ina said, uncovering Luna’s eyes. 

“Ina, you did not.”

“I did.”

“I’ve been wanting to do laser tag forever!”

“Well, I had run out of excuses. I figured it was time for me to try it by now.”

Ina took Luna’s hand and led her into the laser tag arena. God, this was so childish, she thought.

“What exactly is that face?” Luna said slyly, smirking up at Ina.

“What? This gorgeous face you fell in love with?” Ina countered.

“It’s a ‘wow Luna, I can’t believe I’m doing this’ face.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I would’ve come here on my own will.”

“Just keep an open mind. Maybe you’ll like it, who knows?”

“I will. I promise.”

Soon, the two were placed into a larger group. They decided to be on opposite teams just so one could have bragging rights. After a few minutes of Luna’s trash-talking, they were separated into their respective teams. Luna smirked over at Ina as the doors opened to the terrain. Game on.

~

The siren blared over the speakers system, indicating the start of the battle. Ina was situated near the back of the arena, her back crouched against the wall. She knew Luna - she would definitely come looking for her. Luna was too competitive for her own good and she’d be lured to find Ina quickly. 

Sure enough, two minutes into the round, Luna lurked near the back where Ina was hiding. She thought she was being discrete, silently searching for partner. Just as she reached the back wall, her vest lit up and an alarm went off.

Crap!

She slowly turned around, only to find Ina smirking at her.  

“Gotcha. See you later,” Ina winked at Luna as she slipped back into the darkness.

I’m gonna get her, Luna vowed.

The game progressed with both teams neck and neck in score. A minute flashed on the countdown. Ina then spotted Luna. Just as she was raising her laser gun, Luna put her finger on the trigger.

“Wait!”

And somehow, despite the room full of people, Luna and Ina felt like the only people in the world.

“Truce?” Luna called out.

“Truce.” The countdown slowly approached the thirty second mark and Luna made her way to Ina. She wrapped an arm around Luna, gently kissing her temple.

“Good game,” Ina began to whisper softly into her ear. “I totally got you at the beginning though.”

5...4...3...

Luna wrapped Ina in her arms placing a small kiss in her forehead.

2...1....

Suddenly, she pulled away. At once, Ina’s vest lit up. She looked around, expecting some stranger to have hit her, but was met by Luna’s gaze. 

“You...” she grumbled.

“And I totally got you at the end. Oh look who won!” Luna smirked and pointed at the scoreboard. Luna’s sly shot had boosted her own team 100 points higher than Ina’s.

Ina grumbled again in response. “I suppose, but I think it’s rather symbolic.”

And symbolic it was. They were situated in a room full of obstacles, yet somehow fate, destiny, the universe or some higher, inexplicable being had brought them together. It represented that they’d always find each other somehow, and in the end, it would always be them against the world.

Luna quietly reflected on Ina’s words, understanding how their relationship had come to fruition. They slipped out of the laser tag arena and Luna looped her slender arm around Ina’s.

“It’s my turn to give you your anniversary present,” Luna said.

She dragged Ina across New York City, walking past their favorite places...Times Square, the Natural History Museum, Central Park...Ina lingered at each site, remembering dates they had gone on. All of those small, but wonderful moments had led up to this.

“Okay so we’ve only talked about this a little bit but I think we’re ready for it,” Luna turned back to Ina as she walked backwards. She promptly stopped in front of a small building and held her hands out in presentation.

“Here we are!”

“Your apartment?”

“Yeah! Hold out your hands.”

Ina put her hands out as if she were accepting something when she saw Luna go frozen.

Physically Luna was frozen, but her thoughts moved a mile a minute. Yes, she loved Ina. Yes, she had been the one that took her back to her apartment. Yes, she’d stop at nothing until she was happy. But oh god. Commitment was staring her point blank in the face. Moving in together was a huge milestone.

Their relationship was good - the best Luna had ever been in. But her past relationships kept coming to mind. All the fights, all the deceptions, all the mistrust. Luna was unafraid of most things, but she did fear commitment.

“I-” she began.

Ina’s intuition kicked in and redirected her away from the entrance, leaning against the building.

“Hey. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m ready for the next step in this relationship, but it’s our relationship and we need to both agree on its pace. I’m okay with waiting.”

“Thank you. It’s just all this stuff is new to me. I’ve never been in a relationship this serious and I’ve never gotten this far. I was just a hormonal kid in my past relationships - all I cared about was having fun,” she admitted. “And Ina...I’m scared. I trust and love you with all of my heart, but I’m still scared. I’m scared you’ll find a part of me you don’t like and you’ll want out. I’m scared you fell in love with someone who you think is me, but isn’t truly me.”

Luna looked up with tears in her eyes. These were the kind of conversations the two held curled up together in bed, admitting things they’d never even attempted to say aloud before. They built their relationship on love, but also on trust. They’d taken everything with caution. It was these intimate moments that carved their relationship into the one it was today.

“Do you understand what-”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Ina said as she wiped tears away from Luna’s eyes. “For a long time I only focused on my career. My love life always came second. I always wanted to be that youngster at a convention full of well-seasoned anthropologists. At least, that’s what I told myself. I blocked out the very possibility that the true reason I didn’t want a love life may be because of my parents. People who are supposed to love you unconditionally didn’t love Lilian and I like they should’ve. I was so afraid of yet another betrayal. But then I found you. And everything’s just clicked. I don’t have to pretend to be anyone I’m not with you. And I love you for many reasons, but that may be the most prominent.”

And after hearing a sweet and soft declaration of love from Luna, Ina met her girlfriend’s lips. It was then and there that Luna truly understood how much Ina cared for her. That Ina was different from the young, immature men and women from her past. That she’d finally found someone good. Someone who appreciated her. Someone who comforted her. Someone who protected her at all costs.

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? Seriously Luna, this is a big deal. I understand if you want to wait more.”

“I’m sure. For a while now, I’ve dreaded having to come back to my own apartment alone after spending the day at yours. I want this with you. I admit I’m a bit afraid, but that feeling is no where near the feeling that I want to live with you.”

Luna dropped a pair of keys in Ina’s hands as the two rode the elevator up to Luna’s apartment.

“I’m worried, Luna.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“You don’t expect me to live in this shack, right?”

“It is NOT a shack. It is my lovely one-bedroom apartment which is what I could afford in this ungodly costly city after my Belvoire graduation.” Luna giggled as she perched her chin on Ina’s shoulder. “No, silly. It was symbolic. We’re definitely moving into your place.”

“Good. Let’s start packing this place up.”

[razieltwelve]

Sticks and Stones (Final Rose)

Diana was playing in the park with Claire, Averia, and Strangles when the strangest thing happened. Strangles was just slithering on the ground having fun when one of the other kids threw a rock at him.

“Hey!” Diana darted forward and slapped the rock away. “Don’t throw rocks at my snake!”

The other kid, a little girl, just laughed. She was older than Diana and bigger too. She was even older and bigger than her sister and Claire. “Or what?” The girl threw another rock and then another. Strangles huddled behind Diana and hissed. “What are you going to do?”

Diana took a deep breath to calm down. “You shouldn’t throw rocks at animals, especially other people’s pets. You might hurt them.”

“So?”

“It’s bad!”

“Who cares.” The girl laughed and threw another rock. She threw this one a lot harder, and it hit the ground only inches from Strangles. “What are you going to do about it?”

Diana’s eyes narrowed. She could feel Strangles’s fear. He was scared. Her pet snake was scared because some stupid person wouldn’t stop throwing rocks at him. What if he got hit? He might get hurt, maybe even die. The image of Strangles laying on the ground with a smashed in skull because of a rock filled her mind, and she saw red.

“Or I’ll make you sorry.”

“You?” The girl sneered. She ignored one of her friends who had come over and was frantically trying to pull her away. “You’re just some stupid, little twerp with a stupid snake that-”

Diana’s Aura surged. In the span of a heartbeat, her Aura signature went from being several times that of a little girl to several thousand times that of a normal civilian. 

“I told you to leave my snake alone.” The words came out garbled as Diana stepped forward. A boiling sea of Aura erupted over her skin and washed over her body as she transformed. The air was suddenly thick and heavy. A monstrous weight pressed down on the area, and her tail lashed the air. “Now, I’m going to make you sorry.” The words were little more than a bestial snarl. She still had trouble talking after she transformed.

The girl tried to scream, but all she could do was gasp and fall to the ground. Diana reached forward and picked up the rock she’d dropped. Slowly, deliberately, she held it up, so the girl could see it. And then she crushed it into powder in one clawed hand.

Through the rage that clouded her vision, she could sense her sister and cousin running toward her. She stood up and idly wrapped her tail around the older girl. She lifted her into the air and tilted her head to one side. A slight tightening of her tail, and the girl would be a smear. Should she care? The girl wouldn’t have cared if she’d hurt Strangles. Strangles was one of Diana’s best friends, and the girl would have happily killed him before just going off to find someone else to throw rocks at. Maybe she should throw her like a rock. It would be funny to see how far she could throw her and how big of a mess she’d make when she hit the ground.

Her tail shifted, and then Strangles slithered forward and nudged her leg. She looked down at him, and he hissed. He wanted to go look for a frog at the creek. He wanted her to just leave the girl here and go with him. It was more fun looking for frogs if she was there.

Diana growled, a deep, ominous sound, and dropped the girl like a sack of potatoes. And then she turned and followed Strangles toward the creek.

X     X     X

Lightning glanced at the incident report and then at her daughter who was happily tinkering with some bits of machinery she’d salvaged from a scrapyard.

“Don’t be silly,” Diana chided Strangles. “You can’t just throw the carburettor in without checking it works first. Almost nobody throws away one that’s still good.”

The snake hissed. 

“Yeah. We can go back to the park again tomorrow. I don’t think that mean girl will be there.” Diana’s voice hardened ever so slightly. “Unless she’s stupid as well as mean.”

Strangles crawled into her lap, and Diana shook her head before smiling cheerfully.

“Don’t worry,” Diana said. “I’ll take good care of you. Nobody hurts my snake.”

It was easy to forget that Diana wasn’t simply just a smart, happy-go-luck child. Her Semblance made her capable of destruction on a scale that most civilians simply couldn’t comprehend. If she had lost control, that girl in the park wouldn’t be hurt. She’d be dead. 

She’d have to speak to Diana about this although she’d probably leave most of that to Fang. The other woman knew better than anyone else how to manage Ragnarok’s fury. Still... it made her wonder.

How many people would be monsters if they had the strength?

Diana had been perfectly content to just play in the park with her snake. All she wanted was to have fun with her sister, her cousin, and her pet. To throw rocks at someone’s else pet even after being asked to stop... what would someone like that do if they had the same sort of power Diana had?

She shook her head.

The world was full of hypotheticals. She needed to focus on the real.

The incident report was mandatory since Diana was classified as an individual with sufficient power to qualify as a possible security threat. She’d have to speak with the authorities about it as Diana’s parent. Her brows furrowed. How the authorities chose to approach that meeting would determine her own approach.

If they wanted to treat Diana like some kind of monster that had to be caged, then Lightning would simply have to remind them that there were plenty of other places that would be more than happy to welcome her family. Two of the most powerful huntresses in the world, plus their kids who were likely to follow in their footsteps? She could have citizenship in any kingdom in the world if she wanted. If anything, they’d just move to Oerba, not to mention the absolute hell Vanille would raise if someone tried to harm her favourite niece and number one minion.

In the more cold-hearted part of her that dealt strictly with cost-benefit analyses, she felt a twinge of amusement. She and Fang had generally played nice when it came to the authorities. But if push came to shove, they could demand the moon and likely get it. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. 

[taichoh]

old friend

pairing: hitsukarin word count: 5298 (oopsies) warnings: none note: this is my self-indulgent fix-it fic because i can. technically post-canon, there's a hint of ichiruki but this is about my babies, who aren't babies anymore. :') ao3 link

Upon entering her adult years, Karin was coming to terms with her growing list of responsibilities, wishing she was just a kid again when the list was much smaller. Everyone can relate to missing things from their childhood, kicking a soccer ball around on a summer day, only having to stress about a simple book assignment instead of the plethora of things you’d worry about now, coming home to a full house even if it was chaos sometimes.. Most of the time. The house wasn’t quiet now, but it wasn’t as chaotic either. Karin missed it.

Ever since Ichigo decided to live the rest of his life in the Soul Society, things calmed down a bit. She was happy for him, he’d gotten a semblance of his life back after the Winter War, but it only took a couple years for him to crave a different life. She saw how morose her brother had gotten going day by day without a certain short black haired, newly appointed captain, and it only took him this long to realize some things everyone else could plainly see.

The Human World was boring anyway. She wouldn’t tell anyone yet, but she planned to follow in her brother’s footsteps. Karin wanted to wait much longer of course, for a multitude of reasons, one being she was stubborn and wanted to do what she set out to, fully prepared to hurdle any obstacles, and there were plenty.

But now she’s here, having finished school and now fully runs the family clinic with her sister. For a while their dad was with them, but after a very heartfelt conversation and a boatload of tissues, they all agreed that his time in this world was up as well. It was funny, how instead of his daughters, he was leaving the nest and going back home where he was welcomed, especially after the war. They missed him but Karin and Yuzu didn’t miss how much easier it was for their dad to smile whenever he visited. Still, with their brother and dad in a different world, reaching out wasn’t as easy as a phone call away, though Karin figured it wouldn’t be long before Urahara remedied that with yet another invention.

She still hangs out with old and new friends, but feigning disregard to Yuzu’s nagging about finding someone to settle down with was getting old. And so was she. Well not really, but she felt old. She was only in her 20s but she considered herself old when she found a gray hair in her hairbrush. It was most likely stress but regardless, the next thing would be wrinkles or joint pains and the stress from that is just gonna cause more grays to show up so really there’s no upside. She missed the days before puberty, and how much she didn’t care about her appearance. She doesn’t much these days either, but even Karin, with her confidence, had a list of insecurities that piled up over the years. It was part of being human she supposed. She missed when all she worried about was beating the stupid juniors at soccer, getting a scrape on her knee, grass stains, etc.. But she was skirting around the elephant in her room. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. She missed him. A lot. A huff escaped her as she stood at the sink in the bathroom connected to the clinic. She was watching the last of the suds from the soap disappear down the drain when she thought of him for what felt like the first time in ages. But it hadn’t been ages, she thought of him just a couple of days ago, when Yuzu mentioned yet again that she noticed how lonely Karin seemed. It was a bit harsh but Yuzu was right, and Karin knew she was just worried for her sister. “Have you talked to Hitsugaya recently?” The question caught her off guard and made her stop halfway from spooning more soup into her mouth. The answer was no. They hadn’t talked in quite a long time. She half expected to see him amidst the aftermath of the war, but she assumed he had a lot on his plate, so the idea was dismissed. “We barely talk to Ichigo or dad Yuzu, they’re all busy over there.” She knew it was bullshit the second it left her mouth. Acting nonchalant was getting harder and harder around Yuzu, because even though Karin is skilled at it, her sister was one of a handful of people that could break down those walls with a single push. The others are her brother and a boy with snow white hair and eyes you want to swim in, as much as she hates to admit it.

“But I remember you guys being pretty close, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you reaching out... I know you miss him.” It was so embarrassing being read so easily, and it was making her lose her appetite. “Yuzu he’s a captain, he’s got plenty on his plate as it is.” I’m sure I’m the last thing on his mind. “So is Rukia and she along with the rest of the gang visits us ! And from what we’ve heard from Ichigo and Dad, things have been going pretty smoothly.” Yuzu had a point. The last time they saw their family including Rukia was maybe a month ago. Karin was just getting in her head. She knew Toshiro probably wasn’t that busy but she also knew that he wasn’t the type to sit and do nothing. He was a busybody. When he wasn’t eating, sleeping, or visiting her, he was working. And when the time between his last visit continued to stretch, she figured he must have been as busy as can be. Or, maybe he forgot about me. “Toshiro would never forget you!” Yuzu shouted across from the table, making Karin jump and her cheeks flush. Did she say that last part out loud? “I can’t believe you would even entertain the idea! No one could forget you !” Even in an accusatory insulting tone, Karin knew Yuzu was being pragmatic. She always was. Karin groaned and hung her head over her dinner, not wanting to look at Yuzu’s disappointed glare. “I know,” she said dejectedly. “It’s just... A lot has changed. There was a war, we’ve graduated, Ichigo and Dad moved out. It’s been a while.” Karin couldn’t even remember the last time she saw him. It’s been years. Karin was a full fledged adult in her 20s. She wondered if he’d grown an inch or two by now. She missed whenever he’d roll his eyes at her height jokes. “Well I think it’s been long enough.” It seemed Yuzu was going to take matters into her own hands. Getting up from her seat, Yuzu started gathering their empty plates and explained her plan,“Ichigo, Rukia, and Dad are coming to dinner soon, so when they go back you are going with them.” This made Karin open her mouth to object but was immediately cut off, “And don’t use that excuse about leaving me alone. I can take care of myself, and I can call Jinta if I need to.” Karin sunk into her seat as she watched her sister clean up their dinner. Yuzu’s mind was made up, and Karin knew better than to argue with her. Every Kurosaki had the potential to be increasingly scary when they wanted to and that included Yuzu. Karin shivered at being at the mercy of her sister’s wrath hidden under that bubbly exterior.

So, it was happening. She was going to the Soul Society. To see Toshiro. After years of no contact. That’s fine. The more she thought about it the more her thoughts turned intrusive, and it was taking everything in her to not punch her reflection. That would end up with bloody knuckles and a broken mirror, so all Karin could do was take another breath, and leave the bathroom. Yuzu’s plan was panning out, as days from their conversation, their little family reconvened over dinner and it was time for them to go back home. Karin excused herself to go to the bathroom and grab her bag of necessities that Yuzu forced her to pack because apparently her trip was extended to a couple of days and not hours as Karin presumed. When it was announced, Yuzu simply explained she had some extra work to do so she would join next time, which everyone accepted much too easily. “You ready?” Ichigo asked as Karin rejoined them all on the main floor. Karin nodded and gave Yuzu a small smile which she mirrored and nodded as if to say ‘good luck’. The four of them filed onto the empty street and before she knew it they were walking through the Senkaimon. Isshin and Ichigo walked a couple steps behind Karin and Rukia as they walked the dark path that was the Dangai. Karin had only done this a handful of times, to visit her family but it still gave her chills everytime she made the trip. “So, you got anything planned?” Rukia’s voice broke her out of her reverie. She glanced over to see Rukia smirking, looking a little too proud for Karin’s liking. What she could be insinuating?

“Uh, not really.” Karin tried her best to seem nonchalant, but Rukia was getting better at reading Kurosaki’s much to Karin’s chagrin. Her only plan was to see Toshiro, but she’d probably visit some others. A simple little reunion. Part of her wanted to confide in Rukia, but she had a feeling Rukia would absolutely make sure this reunion happened. She gulped willing her anxieties to shut the hell up. “Ooh, I see, so Captain Hitsugaya has no idea you’re coming.” “How did you-” “Oh please, I’m not as dense as your brother,” Karin suddenly appreciated the distance between them and the two idiots behind them, who looked to be having their own conversation after she took a glance over her shoulder. “Plus Yuzu might have filled me in.” Her smug grin made Karin’s blush deepen but there was no hiding it.

“You can���t say anything!” Karin kept her voice low but still full of urgency, which Rukia took in earnest. “Of course Karin! I would never! Unless you wanted me to, and I won’t say anything if you feel the need to deck the Captain in the face, though I have a feeling you won’t want to-” “Why would I want to punch Toshiro?” Has he done something? What did he do? Does he have a girlfriend? What happened? Her mind was racing at Rukia’s admission and the urge to turn around and go back home popped into her head.

Rukia only sighed at Karin’s confusion, “Well according to Yuzu, it’s been a long time for you two. And he never reached out. When me and Ichigo parted ways when he lost his powers, I couldn’t reach out to him as much as I wanted to. And I wanted to. So badly,” Rukia’s voice turned solemn and Karin relaxed, suddenly thinking about how much she envied their relationship. They were so good together, and they’ve been through so much, yet they managed to traverse all those obstacles and found each other again.

Karin vaguely wondered if she’d ever have that kind of connection with someone. Suddenly Toshiro’s name was written all over her mind, but she was getting ahead of herself. Just because she’s had a crush on him for years and years doesn’t mean he feels the same. He could already be with someone for all she knew. Rukia was right, Karin might want to punch Toshiro after all.

“Anyway, he’s had all this time and he hasn’t visited! I’ll have you know things have been just fine in the Seireitei, so really there’s no excuse.” Rukia sounded like Yuzu, and they both had a point, but- “That could go both ways though.” Karin admitted, frowning and going to scratch the back of her neck. “Well I suppose, but I still think the Captain should’ve done something. He always visited you didn’t he?” “Yeah, but I’ve been to the Soul Society before, and I chose not to go see him or anything.” “Why not? That doesn’t seem like you.” Rukia was so right. It was not like Karin at all. If she was her younger self she’d kick down his door and demand him to abandon all paperwork for a game of soccer. But that was younger Karin, who barely considered her crush on the Captain of the Tenth. This was older Karin, now an adult who had to deal with her feelings. Ugh. “I know. I guess I didn’t want to bother him. He is a Captain and all. And now that I’m older I kind of understand that it’s a lot of responsibility.” Once again, she was spouting absolute bullshit and Rukia was prone to picking up on it after dealing with this family for so long. “I’m disappointed in you Karin,” She said with a hint of mockery, not meaning it wholeheartedly, but still being genuine, “It might not be my place to say, but I know I’m not the only one that noticed how much happier Captain Hitsugaya was in your company. Don’t forget I’m a Captain myself, does that mean you think my relationship with your brother hinders me in being one?” “Of course not! I never meant to-” Karin exclaimed, immediately sorry for her backwards thinking, but instead Rukia chuckled. “I know, I’m just saying. You’re right in that we have a lot of responsibilities as Captains, but you know Hitsugaya, he’ll take on more than he needs to, and you were always good at reminding him there was more to life than paperwork.” A couple moments passed as Rukia’s words sunk in. Karin considered herself an adult but she still had so much to learn. She was so grateful she had someone like Rukia to show a different perspective. Karin had to admit, she had definitely mastered the art of handling a Kurosaki. They’re family was so crazy and complicated and Rukia had no problem at all. In the back of her mind Karin reminded herself to kick her brother’s teeth in if he didn’t propose soon. There was a difference though. Ichigo and Rukia lived in the same world. Karin and Toshiro did not have that luxury. But that thought was for another time. Just focus on one thing at a time. Soon Karin was squinting when a bright light washed over the group as they entered the Soul Society. The sky above them was blue with only a couple of clouds hanging, a gentle breeze wrapped itself around Karin, and she felt oddly relaxed. She regrets not visiting more often, this could easily become her second home.

“Well it’s about time!” Karin noticed the voice immediately and watched the beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair walk up to them. “Lieutenant Matsumoto! What brings you here? We weren’t expecting a welcome party.” Rukia chimed in for Karin, who smiled at Rangiku. Just like it had been a while since she’d seen Toshiro, it had been a while for everyone else too. Rangiku and Karin managed to strike up a friendship when Karin was confronted by Toshiro’s second during one of their visits to the human world. Karin got that ‘don’t hurt him, or I

I’ll hurt you’ talk, which Karin quickly concurred and vowed to be a good friend to him. It shocked Karin to see her jaunty personality freeze over to solemnity, and immediately melt again after the serious words were said. She knew Rangiku wasn’t an idiot, she wasn’t a Lieutenant for nothing. Above all she was glad Toshiro had her. “I heard Karin was coming to visit so I wanted to come say hi!” And when she meant ‘hi’, that meant suffocating Karin in her bosom, and not for the first time. Though after learning first hand about Rangiku’s affectionate nature, she could understand how someone like Toshiro found it a tad aggravating. Karin smiled up at her as she pulled back from the hug, “It’s nice to see you again Rangiku.” “Likewise,” Rangiku smiled gently and stepped back, “So what does Karin Kurosaki have planned for this visit?” She seemed much too hopeful for some reason, and Karin had a feeling she knew what it entailed. Again, Rangiku wasn’t an idiot. But lying wasn’t Karin’s forte so she might as well be honest. “I was gonna visit Toshiro, if he isn’t busy.” She gulped. Rangiku’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning, squealing and giving Karin another hug that once again suffocated her. Seems like that was exactly what she wanted to hear. “Oh wonderful! He’s not busy at all, and he’ll be overjoyed to see you! You really grew up didn’t you?” Rangiku’s narrowed gaze and lilted voice made Karin blush. Her tone was definitely suggestive but she wasn’t wrong. Karin had a small growth spurt amidst puberty, her hair got longer, still in a ponytail. “Who knew you’d grow up into such a beautiful woman?” She didn’t know how but her cheeks flushed even more. “Wait until the Captain sees you-” “Rangiku!” Karin exclaimed, throwing her hands up to cover her face, suddenly feeling self conscious. Not only at Rangiku’s boldness but the fact that Rangiku, who was one of the most beautiful women she’d met, just complimented her like that. Rangiku only laughed, brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Come on let’s go!” Suddenly Karin was being dragged away to the 10th barracks no doubt, left to look over her shoulder to watch Rukia smirk and give a wave before turning to leave the gate as well. Rangiku let Karin catch her breath, and they walked in silence, until Karin had a thought, “I can’t help but wonder if Toshiro’s grown at all, like an inch maybe? He told me you guys aged differently here.” “Oh yes, we do! I haven’t done much aging in a looong time. Kind of a perk dontcha think? I’ve looked like this for ages,” Rangiku smiled brightly while flaunting and she had every right to, she knew she was beautiful. Karin would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t envious. As a human you have so little time compared to the time you have as a shinigami. Though the profession is dangerous, so there’s that to consider. Karin remembers when Toshiro explained the way of reincarnation and the way things worked for souls. A weight she didn’t realize she had was lifted from her shoulders that day. “And Toshiro?” Rangiku’s smile turned mischievous again but Karin was too busy looking ahead at the continuing street. “The Captain’s grown a tad, nothing too drastic.” “Oh.” Karin chuckled, that meant she’s probably still taller than him. “So I can still make height jokes.” She smiled smugly, looking forward to his disgruntled face, it was so cute when he got embarrassed. “Oh I’m sure,” was the last thing Rangiku said before they rounded the corner and they arrived at their destination. Karin’s stomach started doing somersaults, and while it had to do with the fact that she was incredibly nervous, she was also very excited. But the reality of their time apart is hitting her once again and she didn’t know how to feel about it. “Don’t be nervous.” Rangiku’s voice was suddenly softer, warmer, almost motherly. And once again, Karin was being read like a book by another shinigami. Damn, she needed to work on her poker face. All Karin could do was give her a small smile before she realized they were right outside of his office. All that stood between them was  a sliding door, and suddenly her hands were clammy.

One last gulp, “Okay,” was all Karin could say.

And Rangiku being Rangiku, gave Karin no time to think before she promptly shouted, “Oh Captaaain!” and slid the door open with gusto causing Karin to jump and for the captain seated at the desk to snap his head up in alarm. But it was not Toshiro. No, Toshiro was cute and albeit attractive according to Karin, and this man was not cute. He was downright gorgeous. He was devastatingly handsome. Nope, not Toshiro. This was an imposter.

But, amidst her gaping, Karin noticed his hair was white, like Toshiro’s, and his eyes were that cerulean color that made her weak in the knees, like Toshiro’s. He was sitting in Toshiro’s seat, wearing a white haori like Toshiro did, and they were definitely in the Squad 10 offices. So, it has be- “Toshiro?” Karin croaked. Her eyes blown wide, her feet still planted at the doorway, while Rangiku buzzed next to her watching the whole exchange.

“Karin?” Oh god, even his voice was an octave lower. His eyes mirrored hers in that they were wide with shock. He couldn’t believe she was here, in the Seireitei, in his office. He also couldn’t believe that was Karin. But the more he looked at her the more he saw the familiar features he made sure to memorize, along with some noticeable new ones.. She was beautiful, and he thought he had the term defined already with a picture of her. It was still her, but he needed to update his memory it seemed. Her hair was still jet black and in a ponytail, only it was longer and a lock laid over her shoulder, her eyes were still as captivating as always, a grey abyss he’d gladly succumb to if asked. And her body, she was definitely an adult. She definitely grew up, but, so did he. What must she think of his new look? He was too starstruck to notice her eyes darken and her brows drop down in anger. “I can’t believe you!” Her fury replaced her nerves and she was suddenly marching across the threshold, fists tight at her sides, “You are such,” She grabbed the nearest object to her which was a pillow from the couch in the middle of the room and lobbed it at his head which Toshiro barely dodged, “an asshole!” Another pillow, only this time he caught it with both hands, using it as a shield for the third pillow. Toshiro wasn’t unfamiliar with Karin’s wrath, however, that didn’t mean he was happy with being at the end of it. Speaking of, her aim has dramatically improved. Anyway- “Karin-” “It’s been years Toshiro-” “I’m sorry-” “You could’ve visited-” “I know I-” “And you went and grew up! Looking like a fucking model all of a sudden and not even telling me!” A model? “Let me explain-” “No you are going to listen to me!” Karin was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stood in the middle of the room staring him down. Toshiro fought against his instinct to shout back and promptly shut his mouth, his brows creased in regret. She was shaking with rage and she was on the precipice of breaking something, preferably his face, but- shit Rukia was right. Again. “You don’t get to sit there on your ass when you never bothered to visit after years Toshiro. Years! When Ichigo got back from the war I had to hear that you were okay from him because of course I worried. I thought we were friends, I thought we-” “We are friends!” Toshiro couldn’t take that disappointed look anymore, but she was wrong. They were friends. Friends. “I thought we were closer than that.” Karin finished her thought, her energy depleting, shoulders starting to sag. He didn’t know which was worse. Karin angry, or sad. He just didn’t like it when she was upset. And he was the cause of it. Seeing her hang her head made his heart ache, and not in the way it usually did when he looked at her.

Toshiro had all the words he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, but he was speechless. Part of him knew this day was bound to come around, he just wished he could’ve been prepared. But then again, expect the unexpected, especially with Karin. He couldn’t hate himself more than he did at this moment.

“I’m so sorry Karin,” His voice lifted her head and they locked eyes, his full of regret and hers, disappointment. “I-” This was harder than he thought, his chest hurt, his hands were stiff, and all he wanted was to see Karin happy, but he didn’t know how to make it happen, but she deserved an explanation. “I should’ve visited you. I wanted to. So badly. Even after things settled, I was so caught up in everything, I didn’t realize how long it’d been. I lost track of time. I’m sorry Karin. I was- I am an idiot. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel neglected and I went and did it anyway.”

Taking a hasty breath, he pushed himself to stand, rounding his desk and standing in front of her , only the usual roles were reversed and he was now looking down on her. No, it didn’t feel right. He towered over her and yet he felt as small as can be. Karin was still silent, ignoring his height for the moment, though she wasn’t entirely surprised given his changes. Changes she wished she could’ve witnessed sooner. Her eyes were glassy, tears on the brink of falling down her cheeks, but she willed them to stay. Until she watched Toshiro drop to his knees and bow before her, resting his head at her feet. She almost didn’t hear the tiny gasp that came from behind her, she’d completely forgot Rangiku was here, witnessing this all. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness Karin, but still, I’m so so sorry.” Karin was.. astonished to say the least. She expected an apology, but she didn’t expect this. Toshiro did many things, overwork himself, scowl, eat unhealthy amounts of amanatto, but he never did anything half-assed. Here was Toshiro Hitsugaya, a Captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads, bowing with his head at the feet of a simple human. Maybe not simple, but human nonetheless. Any bystander would argue that this was completely preposterous, but they wouldn’t know that Toshiro viewed Karin in the highest regard. He knew how much he royally fucked up, and he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. “Look at me.” The closeness of her words startled Toshiro and he slowly lifted his head to see her knelt in front of him. Now it was his turn to be astonished. It wasn’t unlike Karin to be gentle when she wanted but Toshiro couldn’t understand why she would want to, he neglected their friendship for years and now she was smiling at him. Expect the unexpected. Toshiro held his breath. Karin huffed and her smile widened, “Don���t be so dramatic,” she didn’t stop herself from using her finger to brush his hair from his face. The gentlest touch, from hands that could do plenty of damage. She should’ve socked him, he knew he deserved it, he would’ve taken it. But instead, she was caressing his face. Not that he was complaining, it was just oddly uncharacteristic of her. She really had changed after all this time. They both did. Toshiro kicked himself for not witnessing it. “I forgive you, but don’t do it again.” She smacked his head, not enough to actually hurt, but enough to get the point across. He spoke too soon. This was definitely Karin though. Rubbing his head, he slowly sat up and back on his haunches, even while hunching, he was still looking down at her. It was so odd to him. But he’d have to get used to it it seems. At least there wouldn’t be any more height jokes. “Thank you, I don’t deserve it.” He said, watching Karin get to her feet and offer her hand to help him up. “Yes you do. You said sorry. That’s all I wanted. We’re adults now.” “You threw pillows at me.” “You deserved that. ” “...Yeah.” Toshiro sighed. A moment of silence passed until Karin spoke again. “I mean it, don’t do this again. I won’t be so forgiving.” “It won’t happen again. I promise.” Toshiro gave a gentle squeeze to her hand which he never let go. The simple action made her blush, looking down to their entwined hands and up his arm, which were much longer, and then to his broad shoulders, and finally back up to his face, much higher than she was used to. “And don’t grow anymore. You’re like a giant now. It’s gonna be annoying having to look up at you.” And as easy as that they were back to bickering, the tension filtered out of the room as easily as a simple breeze, and they were both thankful. “For what it’s worth, I’m not a fan either.” Toshiro noted, scowling at his new height and features which he still hasn’t gotten used to. All these years he complained about his height and now he realizes he should’ve been more careful with what he wished for. And on top of that, he was getting an increasing amount of attention which Rangiku pointed out was thanks to his sharpened features. Not his cup of tea. “I never said I wasn’t a fan.”

Karin’s words made blood rush to Toshiro’s face, did she just- Maybe it’s his cup of tea after all, if it’s Karin’s attention. That being said, he’d never wanted anyone’s attention more than hers, and now that he has it, he’s just a little alarmed. But in a good way, he thinks. And it made it easier to smile at her, even with a face redder than ever. But it was quickly replaced with a frown when he realized his Lieutenant just witnessed this entire scene with Karin, where she yelled, he bowed, she smiled, and he blushed. Her squeal made both Karin and him wince, looking over to see her jumping up and down with glee, then running over to pull them down into an uncomfortable hug. “I’m so happy for you too!” Rangiku was sniffling, squeezing the life out of them, and when she let them go they gave each other a confused glance before Toshiro spoke. “Why are you crying Matsumoto?” He asked, slightly worried and as well as confused. Karin looked softly at Rangiku, but still confused by her tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. You guys are just too cute together!”

Karin almost interjected to say that they weren’t together but what stopped her was another squeeze of her hand from Toshiro. A slow shake of his head told her to just let it go, and with further thought she realized convincing Matsumoto of anything was a difficult feat.

Later, after Toshiro escorted her to her family for dinner, dropping her off with the promise of seeing each other the next day, Karin thought about how even when walking through the Seireitei, they continued to hold hands. Toshiro paid it no mind it seemed, and while Karin wasn’t complaining, it still puzzled her.

Correcting his Lieutenant from time to time was normal for him, especially when it came to bold claims like this, but this time he refused. Did Toshiro reciprocate Karin’s feelings? Something about his behavior made her feel elated as well as nervous, they’d have to talk about it eventually. It would take some time for her to completely forgive him, but if what happened today was any consolation, everything would be okay.

They both can definitely sleep better tonight, and there was always tomorrow.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 6

Chapter 6, with French expressions probably untranslatable aha, sorry for that !

(Link for Chapter 7 here)

Chapter 6 : I selfishly wished he would notice me too

- So Andraste, let's talk seriously.

The eyes of Koori, the kitsune of the snowy lands I had met some time ago alongside Karenn, seemed to glow with a suddenly mischievous glow.

- How was it with the right arm of the Sparkling ? she asked me.

Frowning, I looked at her taken aback.

- What do you mean ?

I clearly wasn't sure what she was implying. Finally, I still had my little idea.

- Well you know, at the level ... of what obviously makes his reputation, she explained to me while miming clearly obscene gestures.

- Oh Koori, it's my brother we're talking about ! immediately rebelled Karenn, the youngest of the said concerned.

- So what ? Heard you were dating a while before you saved HQ, all that stuff.

She swept away this last point with a vague wave of her hand.

It’s true. Seven years in a crystal isn't that important, in the end.

- And I would like to know : is he really as good as they say ?

- Koori !

- C’mon, tell us everything !

The kitsune mimicked a pout while clapping her hands on the table. After a quick glance at her friend the young vampire, Koori turned to me again to rectify the situation.

- Well, tell me everything.

- That was seven years ago, Koori, I tried in vain.

- But we don't care. For you it was only a few days ago, right ? You must remember it well !

I arched an eyebrow.

- Yes I remember, but I'm not sure he would appreciate knowing that I talk about this.

- We don't care what he thinks, he's just a self-centered vampire anyway.

Faced with our dark eyes, she added :

- Without wanting to offend you.

- Koori, you don't want to give him up a bit ?

- If he tried harder to be nice, too ... Well anyway, you didn't answer my question, Andraste. Is Nevra a good shot ?

My cheeks suddenly turned a scarlet red in front of the curious looks that never let go of me. Even Karenn seemed curious about the answer. I let out a sigh of surrender.

- Ok. Let's say ... his reputation precedes him. Clearly.

- Aaaaah I'm disappointed ! I hoped to have something crunchy against him !

The young vampire rolled her eyes.

- Koori, this is still my brother you're talking about.

- Very well, very well. Besides, is it true that he has completely ignored you since you woke up ? Knowing full well that for you, you were still together a short time ago ...

Ouch, that hurt.

- Look, I don't really want to talk about it, there...

- It's incredible. Yes he's moved on, but he might try hard for you, anyway. I don't know, some semblance of empathy, maybe ?

- At the moment, I'm already trying to figure out what's wrong with my body. I will think of Nevra later, I have other priorities.

What a nasty liar. Every time I heard about him, my little heart sank a little more. And the rare times I ran into him ... each time I felt a little more alone. To endure the loss of a romantic relationship as intense as the one I had with him, it was clearly not my responsibility now. I was just trying not to think about it in order to be able to take everything that had been sweeping over me for several days a little better.

- Alright, if you don't want to talk about it...

A tray suddenly appeared right next to me.

- Hi girls !

Mathieu's big smile appeared in my field of vision.

- I told myself that your meal must be very sad without me, so here I am !

- Oh, all that was missing, sighed the kitsune.

- Stop trying to make me believe that you don’t appreciate my presence, I was not born last rain.

She exchanged a strange look with Karenn, before retorting, both obviously in agreement :

- You really have strange expressions, humans.

Mathieu and I laughed heartily and the conversation finally eased. I listened to the merry gang discussing with a distracted ear, lost in my thoughts from the questionnaire I had received earlier. I missed Nevra, that was a fact.

No, it was more than that. I felt like I was suffocating without his presence. Crossing him was literally torture for me, as I just couldn't stop loving someone overnight. I had to talk to him, but only when we were each ready to do so.

Eyes lost on my plate for several seconds, I raised them to try to get back into the conversation when I came across silver hair.

Having just sat alone at a table, Lance was about to start his meal when a group of young Obsidian recruits came to meet him, looking in admiration.

I could see the annoyance that marked his face despite the courteous smile he displayed. Lance wasn't that fond of this image of him. I had to admit that the leader of the Obsidian was really popular, here. Most people seemed to ignore him, if not fear him, but he still aroused admiration even among the most reluctant. Either people feared him or worshiped him. There wasn't much of a half measure and I knew it made him uncomfortable.

Simply because Lance will probably never forgive himself for his actions.

So at one time, he certainly loved to show admiration. Only now I was sure he hated it.

Trying to imagine the former Lance, the one he had been before Ashkore, drew a thin smile on my lips. What was he like at that time ? Probably conceited and proud that the world admires him. It was his style.

- Andraste, are you still with us ?

Karenn's voice immediately brought me back to reality.

- Uh yes, of course !

With her chin resting on one of her hands, she looked at me slyly.

- Why are you smiling in your corner ?

Caught in the act.

- Nothing, I was just thinking about something, I tried in vain to defend myself.

The conversation resumed and despite myself, I could not help but continue to glance from time to time in the direction of the dragon. It had been a while since I had seen him and even though it was on my own initiative, I had to admit that something deep inside me selfishly wished him to notice me too. As if he had heard the flow of my thoughts, Lance suddenly let his gaze fall directly on me, fixing his icy eyes on mine. An electric shock ran through me as our eyes remained firmly fixed on one another.

Neither of us wanted to let go first.

Several seconds passed until Mathieu's voice called out to me, breaking the link.

- Are you coming with us Andraste ?

I looked at him a little lost. Damn, what was he talking about ? Sensing my confusion, he explained to me:

- There is an evening that is organized for the return of the troops that have left for exploration. It's become kind of a ritual now.

- Oh, it's great that they do that !

- It was Huang Hua who instituted this. She thinks it motivates and brings HQ members together.

- Well let's go in that case !

We all got up together. My tray in hand, I walked towards the ladder to put it there.

I knew Lance hadn't taken his eyes off me once until I stepped out of the large room, and the thought made me ... exhilarate ?

(Chapter 7)