#that one scene with her getting half her face shattered has been around basically since she had a skull

[emuwarum]

Judgement

[writing-with-olive]

The Stonewall Riots of 1969

1) Current State of Being (it was not good, fam, not good)

To set the scene, we’re in the late sixties. We’ve won the second World War, and suddenly everyone’s dealing with the fact that the patriotic frenzy America has been whipped into isn’t really having the same purpose it used to. Thing is, everyone’s still really heated along the basic lines of DEATH TO COMMUNISM AND ALSO COMMUNISTS. During the war, this was helpful. It created a sense of unity. But once the war was over, attention turned inward.

At this time, there was also research that queer people were "sex perverts" and a government report even came out saying

"The lack of emotional stability which is found in most sex perverts and the weakness of their moral fiber, makes them susceptible to the blandishments of the foreign espionage agent [...] the pervert is easy prey to the blackmailer.

This same report also cited a case of a gay man "who's homosexuality was used by the Russians [who were communist] to recruit him as a double agent before world war 1." Basically, the overall gist was that gay people were believed to either be communists now, or they would become communists because their brains were weaker.

Alrighty, but why were they easy prey? First, when it came to communism, they were just as susceptible as anyone else, but after steep laws against queer people were passed, blackmail became pretty real.

So... yeah, let's talk about a couple laws that were in place in the late sixties, shall we?

For the crime of sleeping with a consenting partner in the privacy of your own home you could face anything from:

A light fine

Five, ten or twenty years in prison

A life sentence

Electrical shock therapy

Castration

In addition, to target trans people, police had also dug out a law from the nineteenth century that was originally passed to supress angry tenant farmers who would don disguises and demonstrate against their landlords (law found in subsection 4 of section 240.35 of the New York Penal Code). The law stated that individuals could not wear more than three items of clothing that did not match their assigned gender at birth.If an officer thought you were breaking this law, they could arrest you and take you to a bathroom or similarly private location and have an officer who matched your presented gender either do a strip search or pat you down there to see if things matched.

Things got especially bad when New York realized they’d have to “clean up the place” in preperation for hosting the World Fair. In part, this meant a heavy crackdown on the gay community, and by extention, gay bars.

2) The Genovese Crime Family and Stonewall

At around this time, the Mob was starting to notice that gay bars were an excelent source of profit - since the prohibition era (1920-1933), limited access bars and speakeasies had popped up everywhere and since the gay community already couldn’t be themselves on the streets, they retreated to these more sheltered locations.

Three mafia members decided to open a gay bar because ohhh boy could you rake in some serious profit. Combined, the three of them put up $3500 to “renovate” the Stonewall Inn (which had gone through itterations of being a straight nightclub, straight bar, and gay restaurant in a sort of irregular cycle). 

Renovations included building a stage to dance on, painting the walls black, and getting a jukebox. No running water, no fire exit, just the bare minimum. It certainly wasn’t legal.

When they opened (as a bottle club to get around pesky liquor laws), the bouncer would look through a little slat in the door and if you had a codeword or looked sufficiently gay, he’d let you in. You then had to sign up to be a part of the club (about a dollar) and write your name down on a sheet of paper. Of course, no one wrote down their real names. 

The liquor in question was stolen, to begin with, and then heavily watered down with... questionably clean water, and then sold at about three times the original price in half-cleaned glasses (glasses were dunked in a bucket and then reused). Since none of the patrons really had high expectations anyway, they went with it. Needless to say, however, Stonewall was not a particularly nice place to be.

With all the money the trio raked in, a cut had to go to the Mafia man who controlled the district, and another cut went to paying of the notoriously corrupt 6th Precinct, to avoid getting the whole place shut down. 

Because they were payed off, the police would only conduct their mandated raids early in the night before things got going, and on weekdays - this was when there weren’t a ton of people there, and it was easy to make it look like nothing was amiss.

3) The Raid (this is where shit gets real)

First of all, the thing is - no one knows why it happened. It just.... did.

On June 28th, 1969, at about 2am, the night was in full swing. The bar was crammed full of people dancing and drinking. The air was stuffy as usual and quite dark. 

Then the bright flourescent lights come on - the signal that there was a raid and to seperate and to look less gay. The police came through, and called that they were making arrests. Everyone needed to line up against the wall and have their ID’s ready. Of course this was an issue, because just about everyone was legally not supposed to be at stonewall. 

As the police began taking people outside, a crowd was going - raids at this time were... unusual to say the least. Some of the queens went into the back of the police cars without much of a fight - obviously they were terrified, but it didn’t look like there was much they could do.

One of them, however, and no one knows who for sure, was having none of this. Though Marsha Johnson and Sylvia Rivera have both been suggested as the starter of the riot, both have denied it, saying it was someone else. Storme DeLarverie, however, has both accepted and denied it was her. In an interview where she confirmed herself as the starter, she described her reaction, saying:

“The cop said ‘Move f****t’, thinking that I was a gay guy. I said, ‘I will not! And, don’t you dare touch me.’ With that, the cop shoved me and I instinctively punched him right in the face. He bled! He was then dropping to the ground - not me!”

She then turned to the crowd and yelled “why don’t you all do something?”

This was when things transformed. Objects started to fly. It was like someone had just punched a hole through the dam holding back the collective anger of the queer community.

A lot of the queer street kids, homeless, desperate, and with nothing to lose, were at the forefront of the fight, throwing anything from stones to pennies to bottles. Here’s the thing: no one really liked Stonewall - it wasn’t particularly nice or inviting or anything like that, but it was THEIRS and they were going to fight like hell for it.

Those being pulled out of the Inn started fighting back too - throwing what they could, kicking, punching, pushing back against the police. Marsha Johnson, a woman some have referred to as “basically a lesbian superhero” even climbed a telephone pole and threw an unidentified heavy object at a police car, shattering the window. 

It was chaos and the crowd was still building. The flying objects didn’t stop, and it wasn’t like anyone had great aim - they were just as likely to hit a fellow protester - but there was a sense of comraderie and it made the police nervous. They were calling for reinforcements, but none were coming.

Finally, one of the police chiefs decided they had to retreat into Stonewall. They grabbed a few people as hostages and dissapeared inside, and barricaded the door. The inside of the Stonewall Inn was a wreck. The jukebox had been smashed. Same with the stage, the bathroom mirrors, and the cash register. Broken furniture was strewn on the floor.

Outside, the rioters had yanked a parking meter out of the ground and were trying to bash their way through the door, using it like a battering ram. Each thud made the officers even more nervous, and the captain, realizing things could turn from bad to horrific and deadly commanded his officers not to shoot unless he shot first. He went up to each one, commanding them individually by name, saying that if they shot without his direct sayso, they would be spend the rest of their police careers with only the worst possible jobs. To their credit, no one shot.

Outside, reinforcements finally arrived, armed in full riot gear - helmets, plastic shields, those club/baton things. They came forward in a full on phalanx. Then it started getting really ugly. People ended up lying on the sidewalk with blood coming from their heads or injured in other ways. The crowd started falling back, step by step. Finally, many of them ran.

But not to flee. Instead, they went all the way around the block and came up behind the reinforcement officers. Surprised that there was a new attack coming from behind, it was the police that began to loose the ground, and were forced to retreat back, back, back.

It was into the late, late hours of the night when the riots finally died down to nothing, the last of the crowd finally dispersed, exhausted.

4) The Next Day (aka a giant middle finger to the cops)

The shattered glass sparkled in the morning light the next day - a tribute to what had gone down the night before. 

That night, the crowds around stonewall were huge. And it wasn’t just the queer community - the anti-war protesters and Black Panthers had joined in, standing against the even larger ranks of officers. The night before was a tipping point, but if momentum was to keep going, there needed to be sustained effort.

Inside, the Inn was back to normal. The Mafia had repaired the stage, gotten a new cash register, and even replaced the jukebox. It was if the efforts of the police had never even happened. Throughout the night, the queer community went in and out as though everything were totally normal - as if the police didn’t matter.

The riots were even worse than the night before, but the police couldn’t gain any ground.

Despite what was happening and the triumphs of the queer community, the press was a little less enthusiastic, aiming to diminish what had happened, taking the viewpoint of the police, or claiming the riots happened because of a celebrity’s death, and not the decades upon decades of oppression.

5) The Impact (how we got to today)

A year later, a lot of the Stonewall participants gathered to commemorate the movement. There were now several activism groups that had grown since the riots, but there needed a way to keep it growing - keep the flame from dying out.

One woman proposed that they have a march like the Civil Rights movement and Anti-war protesters were having. As soon as the question filled the space, there was unanimous consensus. Yes - they were to march.

It was terrifying. One member remembered fearing that only ten or so people would show up - that it was only going to make them into a laughingstock and nothing more. Indeed, many people had shown up with popcorn to “watch the f*gs” - it was seen almost as a show or performance. 

But the moment was anything but. When the member looked back, in apprehension, what he saw wasn’t ten or the anticipated couple hundred people. No more than two thousand people had joined the parade. And not just the queer community - straight New Yorkers were there too. It was a moment of solidarity, and a demand for justice.

Every year since, there have been pride marches around the country, memorium to the community, and to the fight we’ve been fighting for a very long time, and to the patrons of Stonewall Inn who finally decided enough was enough.

6) Sources (because apparently trusting an unsourced tumblr posts is seen as an academic no-no)

(all in MLA because I just copy/pasted them from my research notes and also MLA feels official and all that)

Yardley, William. "Stormy DeLarverie, Early Leader in the Gay Rights Movement, Dies at 93." The New York Times, 29 May 2014, www.nytimes.com/2014/05/30/nyregion/storme-delarverie-early-leader-in-the-gay-rights-movement-dies-at-93.html?_r=0. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Brown, Dalvin. "Marsha P. Johnson: Transgender Hero of Stonewall Riots Finally Gets Her Due." USA Today, 27 Mar. 2019, www.usatoday.com/story/news/investigations/2019/03/27/black-history-marsha-johnson-and-stonewall-riots/2353538002/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Burey, Jodi-Ann. "'It Wasn't No Damn Riot': Celebrating Stonewall Uprising Activist Storme DeLarverie." The Riveter, Feb. 2017, theriveter.co/voice/it-wasnt-no-damn-riot-celebrating-stonewall-uprising-activist-storme-delarverie/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

Carter, David. Stonewall: The Riots That Sparked the Gay Revolution. 2nd ed., New York, St. Martin's Griffin, 2010.

Duberman, Martin B. Stonewall. New York, Plume, 1993.

Edsall, Nicholas C. Toward Stonewall: Homosexuality and Society in the Modern Western World. Charlottesville [Va.], U of Virginia P, 2003.

Kristi K. "Something like a Super Lesbian: Storme DeLarverie (In Memoriam)." The K Word, edited by Kristi K, 28 May 2014, thekword.com/2014/05/28/something-like-a-super-lesbian-storme-delarverie-in-memoriam/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

---. "Something like a Super Lesbian: Storme DeLarverie (In Memoriam)." The K Word, edited by Kristi K, 28 May 2014, thekword.com/2014/05/28/something-like-a-super-lesbian-storme-delarverie-in-memoriam/. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

"The Stonewall You Know Is a Myth. And That's O.K. | NYT Celebrating Pride." YouTube, uploaded by The New York Times, 31 May 2019, www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7jnzOMxb14. Accessed 12 Apr. 2021.

(not in mla sorry) - PBS’s Stonewall Uprising (documentary)

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tagging: @veryunoriginal and @doggo038 because yall seemed pretty interested. Also my usual taglist: @candlemouse @bookdragonfanish @book-limerence​

If you want to be added/removed from any of my taglists, let me know! taglists found pinned to the top of my blog :D

[yoonpobs]

manners maketh women | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: kingsman!AU (loosely inspired lol), enemies to enemies basically (some sexual tension)

warnings: mentions of blood, enemies, dismantling the patriarchy

words: 2, 637

summary: kingsman or alternatively you trying to dismantle the patriarchy by pissing off your partner

“You’re a fucking psychopath!” Valentine spits at you with bloodied gums while he lays on the floor with all the will to live beaten out of him.

You’re much better off. Of course you were. You wouldn’t let someone as vile or unimportant as Valentine ruin your pantsuit because while you thought the establishment was exorbitant, it was still costly and made you look like a bad bitch.

“Says the one who planted chips into people’s head only to blow them up.” You roll your eyes, tossing your blazer over your shoulder as Merlin sighs at the scene behind you when you cock your head towards the pitiful soon-to-be prisoner.

“I thought we said no damage.”

You shrug.

“This is no damage. Couldn’t help that my hand slipped.” You return.

Merlin is about to retort but your teammate stomps out of the abandoned church with his eyes narrowed to your figure that retreats to the comfort of your car.

You almost forget that you weren’t on this mission alone until the presence of your partner appears by your side and you’ve worked with him long enough to know that he’s shooting daggers on the side of your forehead.

“We agreed to bring him back in one piece.” Jungkook snarls at you.

You see that he’s way worse off compared to you. But it could have alluded to the fact that he warded off the rest of the guards that ambushed the two of you when you first arrived. The priority was finding Valentine and making sure that he was captured and under your scrutiny, so you agreed to head off first while Jungkook did the dirty work.

“His limbs are still attached to his body, I don’t see how I didn’t uphold to the end of our agreement?” You stop in your tracks, causing Jungkook to skid in his steps as his chest makes contact with your back.

When you turn around, he’s absolutely furious but that only spurs on the wide grin that appears on your face.

“Valentine looks like he’s been through six wars and a botched plastic surgery attempt!” He hisses.

You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest as you take in Jungkook’s growing rage. He’s never been the level-headed one between the two of you but you were also the more infuriating one. You were fully aware of that and you were going to use it to your advantage. You didn’t beckon your way through the misogynistic Kingsman system to be bossed around by some stereotypical posh man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

“And that’s what he deserved. I did what I had to do, Jeon.” You retort as venomously as he had.

Jungkook literally growls and you know you’ve annoyed him further because he was the typical Kingsman agent that attempted to uphold all the core values and paraded around the base with the manners maketh man phrase that he loved to milk. You, on the other hand, didn’t believe in that shit at all because you were not mannered and neither were you a man. Jungkook walked the ground like he had a stick up his ass half the time and you had no time to deal with his uptightness.

“We are on a mission, Lancelot. I go by Galahad.” He reminds you but you wave him off, turning around to head towards your car.

Jungkook grits his teeth as he sees Merlin drag a detained Valentine—who leaves a trail of blood in his path—to the van where he’d be brought back to the cells. He couldn’t believe that you had the audacity to go against direct orders from your superior like that! But at the same time, you’ve pulled things like this more than once and rubbed Jungkook the wrong way every time you’d brush off any lament that came from him.

He doesn’t think you were incapable of being a Kingsman agent, although it hasn’t always been that way. But he did believe that you should at least uphold the fundamental values that made Kingsman the reputable secret service it was.

“You act like Jeon is the worst of the names I call you.” You snort.

Jungkook wants to remind you that it’s not and he’s aware but he’s highly exhausted after fending off numerous men on his own while you got to catch the largest bait of the day, your pantsuit hardly creasing in the process.

“Would it kill you to follow orders?” Jungkook snaps.

The two of you reach the car and he snatches the keys from your palm before you can step into the driver’s seat. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture and look him up and down before your bored eyes rest upon his still pinched expression.

“If we get pulled over the police are going to think you’re a runaway.”

Jungkook scowls but enters the car anyway. You follow him shortly into the passenger seat as you immediately tug off the band that kept your hair in a ponytail as you ruffle your hair, slipping off the heels off your feet. You found it absurd that the agency demanded you wear heels onto a field mission purely because it was the Kingsman brand. It wasn’t like you couldn’t fight in them but obviously, it made you slightly slower than you’d like.

“You’re going to shut up and not say a single word during the ride back because I’ve had enough of that smart ass mouth of yours.” Jungkook snaps.

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to listen to you, Jeon.” You pat his thigh in consolation and he just curses under his breath.

Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to argue back because, for every remark he makes, he’s sure you have at least ten responses phrased in different ways to respond with.

“If you called me in for a staring contest then I’m afraid we have to reschedule. I’ve got a bottle of wine and some fried chicken waiting for me in my quarters.” You deadpan.

The man who sits in front of you is unnerved and you expect no less from the current Director of Kingsman. It also wasn’t the first time you’ve sat before him with the very same look marring his face. You know what the conversation is going to be about and he knows that you know.

“Agent Lancelot—”

You scoff when you lean forward, narrowing your eyes at your superior before he purses his lips at your gesture.

“How many times did I tell you to ditch the alias? It’s unnecessary especially since we’re in your office which is debatably the most vaulted place in all of the Kingsman quarters. It isn’t like Valentine is going to come crawling through the vents and demand for my birth certificate.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose because when he hired you after you—impressively—passed the most gruesome and intense interview process with a blink of your eye, he didn’t know what to expect when he took the risk of recruiting the first-ever woman Kingsman.

But now that it’s been years since you’ve made a name for yourself and all other keen women who were looking for the opportunity to train as an agent, he realised that you were not just a skilled agent but a sharp and impenetrable fortress that would never let anyone tell her what to do.

Which was frankly—inconvenient—given the nature of Kingsman work that often relied on partnership and collaboration. But those words weren’t in your dictionary and Namjoon can see the way you look bored before the conversation started as you sit in front of him with a blank expression on your face.

“It’s nice to see you, ______,” Namjoon says dryly, clasping his fists together before leaning forward on his elbows that your faces are closer.

“Are you going to call me out for disobeying orders and bringing back Valentine like butchered meat? If you want an apology then you know you’re not going to get it,” You say blankly before turning in the swivel chair; already halfway off before Namjoon stops you.

“Jungkook has been telling me that you’ve been harder to work with recently.” Namjoon points out.

You scoff.

“Of course he’ll say that. I’m the better agent in the partnership and it bruises his puny masculine ego. Tell him to shove it and deal with it because it’s going to get harder.”

Namjoon shoots you an unimpressed glare before he wills himself to maintain a decent amount of level-headedness as he reasons with you.

“The both of you are talented agents—” Namjoon says slowly and you know he’s only saying that to appease you and not break his neutrality when it came to agents so you roll your eyes at his attempt, “—and because the two of you are always going on the most important missions it’s imperative that you work together.”

“Namjoon.” You blink, “Jeon is the most infuriating individual I have been condemned to meet and I literally have no idea why you won’t just switch me out with—I don’t know—Jin or something. He isn’t as mouthy or pretentious as Jeon.”

Namjoon sighs.

“Firstly, why can’t you ever call him by his first name? And secondly—you know why I can’t do that. Jin is in-charge of international operations and we need you here on domestic land. You and Jungkook are the most qualified agents of the region and it is in my best interest, as well as the nations to have you two work together.”

You wave him off before you push yourself off the chair completely, offering a sloppy salute out to his direction and you see Namjoon’s shoulder deflate at your stubbornness. But before you’re even able to make your way out of the door, you see a face that makes you scowl.

“Talking shit about me behind my back, babe?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you.

You snort.

“If I wanted to talk shit about you, I’d do it to your face so I can watch your fragile ego shatter in front of my eyes. And—if you don’t want your balls detached from your body and served to you as a door gift then I suggest you never call me babe ever again.”

You’re about to push past him but his hand reaches for your shoulder and stops you with a tight grip as you snap your head to glare at him. You’re about to throw him off you, literally, but Jungkook is also skilled and he sees the telltale signs of your anger for him to defend himself against your attack.

When you pull his arm to lug his body over yours, he manages to lock your grip and bring you into a headlock—chest pressed to your back as he breathes down your hair while you feel the cocky smirk of his spread across his face.

“Let go of me you fucking shithead.” You snarl.

Jungkook snorts and only tightens his grip on you, twisting your chin between his thumb and index finger so you’re glaring directly at his face that is only a mere inches away from yours to give you a taunting grin that you want to slap off his face.

“You’ll never outdo the doer—” He whispers so low that it almost seems like it’s just the two of you, “—baby.”

You take that as a chance to knee him in the stomach and shove him away before you dust your hands on your pants, only to remember that you were still in Namjoon’s office and he likely saw the show that the two of you put on.

“I … I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Namjoon clears his throat before gesturing to the two of you to take a seat as if you weren’t seconds away from walking out that door.

“Look, Namjoon—we—I—don’t need this group therapy session with him, okay? The two of us can work together but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen to what he says. His judgement is clouded by the systemic oppression that Kingsman entrenches to their agents and I won't stand for that.”

Jungkook’s fists tighten at your blatant disrespect to the organisation that employed you, and he remembers every reason why he hates you so much.

“_____,” Namjoon sighs, “I don’t understand why you walked into that interview years ago if you hate everything that Kingsman stands for.”

You clench your fists by your side because of course, he didn’t understand. And of course, Jungkook, Jimin, Jin and even Merlin didn’t understand. They didn’t need the luxury of understanding a system that favoured people like them.

“Then let me spell it out for you both,” You say emphasise each word with a spit.

Jungkook clenches his jaw but remains silent.

“I walked into that interview knowing I was going to ace that shit because I owed that first step to all the women that were used and abused by your Kingsmen. The women that were offered comfort for sex to only be shunned and disposed of by the esteemed agents you call Kingsmen. I am not a Kingsman and I am not Lancelot. I am ______ ______ and I’m a woman who fucking owned every single one of those male agents that day who decided to snicker and laugh at me when they wouldn’t be able to ever walk a mile in my shoes. I’m here because I have a point to prove.”

Namjoon is stunned to silence and you don’t know what triggers your outburst but you suppose its years of repression and having to work alongside a male peer that only sees you as impressive because of your gender and not because of your skills. The comments rubbed you the wrong way and you never looked back since.

“_______ …” Namjoon begins but you glare at him and that’s enough to send him silent.

But you see the way Jungkook’s jaw twitches and you know that sign well enough to know he’s about to say something you won’t like.

“That’s it? All the anger, bitchiness and attitude for you to prove a point?” Jungkook scoffs, “You’re that pathetic?”

“Jungkook—” Namjoon warns.

“You walked into this life and you need to deal with the consequences. I don’t give two shits your intention in Kingsman but you’re here and you’re working for the Kingsman so you better suck all that bitterness up or leave. Don’t you dare disrespect the foundation of what a Kingsman is.” Jungkook hisses.

The expression on your face is thunderous and Jungkook has never seen you like that, ever. Not even when the two of you were arguing head to head and everyone else thought someone was going to end up hurt. No, this is much more … threatening. A look that’s so unfamiliar but familiar enough because it’s the first time he’s seen it directed to him.

“I wonder why you’re so overprotective about the Kingsman name, hm?” You say blankly, “Is it because that your entire identity revolves around it? That you’ve never seen a world with eyes when you weren’t a Kingsman? You’re pathetic, Jeon. You’re nothing without the title but at least I know what I want. You don’t. You’re just hiding behind the suit and weapons to make you feel like a man but you’re just a sorry excuse of a human being that only sees the world through a bigoted lens.”

Jungkook is about to retort but you’re faster, and the action alarms both Namjoon and Jungkook when you—

“I quit.” You smile.

The badge and your key weapon with nothing but a slam to the table.

“______—“ Namjoon stands up but you don’t spare him another glance before you’re out the door.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Part three of three. Let’s close this match out in style.

[No. 40 - Emancipation]

Endeavor is, unsurprisingly, thrilled with this development. He yells his son’s name, marching his way down the steps of the stands as he continues to shout. He’s pleased with Shouto finally accepting his fire, and that it all starts now for him. With Endeavor’s blood in his veins, he will surpass him and fulfill his ambitions. 

Shouto… doesn’t even seem to hear him. 

Endeavor, Toshinori, and the audience in general are left in an awkward silence. Eventually Present Mic makes light of the sudden pep talk from Endeavor, calling him a ‘doting parent’ with probably a bit of wry humor, and that it’s a bit unexpected since they’re not on good terms. 

Shouto wipes away his tears, looking back up at Izuku. Izuku is still proud of his victory in getting through to Shouto, which prompts Shouto to ask why he’s smiling. With his wounds, and in this situation, he must be crazy. It’s not Shouto’s problem what happens to him now. The two pull up the full power of their quirks as they face each other down, ready for the deciding blow.

Cementoss, meanwhile, gets up and calls to Midnight for help in stopping the match before it goes any further. Cementoss sends out a wave of cement, while Midnight tugs open her costume and lets her quirk loose.

Shouto sends out another massive glacier, which Izuku leaps over by sacrificing his right leg. Izuku thinks on how he has to get close and give it everything as he brings his right arm swinging around, thinking of his own words to Shouto to give everything he’s got. Shouto brings up his left hand, wreathed in flames, as he thanks Izuku.

Impact.

Not gonna lie, I really do appreciate the anime for how much more epic they were able to make this, mostly because of the advantage of sound + music + animation in conveying battle scenes. But also, the art style… Horikoshi really started out great and only got better from there. God, those flames...

Also, it’s such a small thing, but I can’t help but notice that thank you, so small against the rest of the full page spread, basically lost among everything else happening in that instant… it’s questionable whether Izuku even heard it over the noise of everything happening - we can certainly guess no one else did. And it’s so important, that acknowledgement, even if it’s unheard, to what Izuku did for him. 

In the aftermath, smoke covers the arena, making it impossible to see the results. Cementoss comments on how he doesn’t believe bigger is better, but that was something else. Present Mic, knocked over from his seat, is in shock, asking what is up with Aizawa’s class. Aizawa replies that all that chilled air had been heated in an instant, making it expand. Present Mic comments on the blast and the heat, as well as being unable to see anything. He wonders whether the match has been decided. Midnight is picking herself up as well, her hair a mess and mask blown away. 

The smoke clears just enough to see one of Izuku’s shoes scritching against the ground. Toshinori and Endeavor are tense as the smoke continues to clear, enough to see that Izuku-

-is out of the ring and out for the count. His unconscious body continues to slide down the wall, hitting the floor with a heavy thump, while Shouto, conscious and just inside the ring, watches on. Midnight calls the match - Izuku is out of bounds. Shouto moves on to the third round.

The crowds murmur and comment. Izuku got straight up blown away… was he just provoking Shouto without a plan to back it up? Did he even want to win? Or was he trying to lose? Either way, that was some impressive power… he’s got some moxie, for sure. He put on a good show up through the cavalry battle, anyway.

The scene closes out on Katsuki’s contemplative expression.

In the back stage walkways, Endeavor tracks down Shouto once again in order to talk. SHouto says nothing, prompting Endeavor to make a comment on Shouto not telling him to get out of the way this time. Without control over his flames, going all out is dangerous - but he’s finally put aside his childish rebellion. He’s ready to replace Endeavor - to surpass him, even. He tells Shouto to work at his side after he graduates, and that he’ll guide him down the path to supremacy.

Shouto butts in, saying he hasn’t put aside anything. Endeavor is struck speechless. Shouto is not one to be turned that easily. It’s just that… in the moment… in that instant… he forgot all about Endeavor. Whether that’s good, bad, or something in between… that’s something he’ll have to think about.

God, I love this, not just for Shouto managing to hit harder with those words than all his anger before, but because Endeavor himself is struck speechless with this change and blunt admittance. It’s a small peek into his character development to come, and god does it make me want a look into his head in that instant.

...honestly. In retrospect, and acknowledging how far he’s come since here, I can’t help but wonder if this was actually a kicking off point for his development, that only really got seen much further down the line. 

We shift to Recovery Girl’s office, where Toshinori looks on his heavily injured successor. Recovery Girl tells him that Izuku’s right arm is shattered, and that it won’t be easy to set back to normal. First, she has to remove the bone splinters from his joints, and healing comes after. The boy admires All Might so much that he’s willing to destroy himself. Toshinori lit that fire. Toshinori moved him to this. She doesn’t like it, not one bit. Toshinori is overdoing it - him and Izuku - so he’d better not praise the kid for it. 

Several of Izuku’s friends slam their way into the room, worried for him. Poor Toshinori is startled in the process, clutching at his chest. Ochako gives an aside greeting to him, while Izuku notes that the next match is coming up. Tenya tells him that the arena was mostly destroyed, so there’s a break while it’s being repairs. Ochako adds on that they came because they were worried. 

Mineta comments on how that was scary as hell, and that no pro will want to hire him. Tsuyu slaps him with her tongue, commenting on how she can’t say she likes his rubbing-salt-in-the--would style. Mineta argues that he’s right, though. Recovery Girl tells them to pipe down as she starts shooing them out the door, stating that it’s fine to worry, but he’s about to have surgery. All of the kids are shook at this.

Izuku gets Toshinori’s attention by apologizing. He couldn’t do it. Maybe if he’d just shut up… but he had to say what he did to Shouto. Toshinori is speechless for a moment, seeing how distressed Izuku is at his perceived failure. 

He eventually notes that Izuku was trying to bring it out of him. Izuku agrees, saying that it was just too sad. He thought, maybe he should just mind his own business… but, he had to… at that point, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was so frustrating. He forgot why he was there… he lost himself. He then apologizes again, leaving Toshinori with no words. 

Recovery Girl finally succeeds in shooing out the other kids as Toshinori finds his words again. He calls the match an unfortunate outcome, indeed. And calling Izuku a fool won’t change what happened. However, giving help that’s not asked for… is what makes a true hero. Izuku himself seems to have no reply to that. 

We close out with a few shots of Shouto making his way into the arena with a new uniform to replace the one he half-destroyed, while the narration notes how Izuku finished in the top eight. 

Sorry for this being late by a day, but just. Wow. This match is just… in the manga, it feels just a bit different. And this aftermath, I think, makes it hit all the harder, what Izuku gave in order to save someone from themself. He feels like he disappointed All Might for prioritizing someone else’s life, and I just. This kid. This kid.

I’ll try to get through the rest of the chapters of this arc over the next week, then take a break before tackling hosu and all that stuff. See y’all tomorrow, hopefully.

[procrastinatorproject]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Picard Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios Characters: Agnes Jurati, Cristóbal Rios Additional Tags: Meta, Developing Relationship, my take on Agnes and Cris's relationship, and why i think it works, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), Psychological Trauma

Title Inspired by @regionalpancake‘s glorious Downtime Drabble “You’re Light On Me”

A while ago, a friend confessed to me that they didn’t really understand what Agnes Jurati and Cris Rios see in each other. They felt the relationship seemed unmotivated and forced, and they didn’t really see why other people thought it worked.

I’ve seen this sentiment a few times since the show came out, and I’m not here to tell anyone they have to agree with the show-writers’ choices or like a relationship if it doesn’t work for them. But I recently reread the little essay I sent that friend in reply (after making sure they’d want to read it ;9 ), and I really liked it, so I thought I’d share it here.

When people say that the kiss between Agnes Jurati and Cristobal Rios at the end of Star Trek: Picard season 1 blindsided them, I understand where they're coming from. I think the showrunners could have done more to make the developing relationship between these characters truly obvious, but for me, it didn't feel like the mutual attraction between Cris and Agnes came completely out of nowhere. Let me explain.

One of the big things about Rios’s character I find striking is that he wants to be stoic and cynical and misanthropic, but he just... can't do it. He tries! He's short, he hides behind his books, and he pretends he doesn't care about politeness. But the only people he ever swears at are Raffi, a very good friend, and the holos (which are a whole other matter, because there is all this self-loathing tied up in Cris's relationship with them). Over the course of season 1, it's pretty clear that Rios is rather good at reading people, and he wants to do right by them. He defers to Picard pretty much immediately and Soji looks at him pleadingly once and he decides to put his ship at risk for her.

Rios doesn't want to like people, he just can't help himself. He wants to be annoyed by Agnes interrupting his reading, but I think he finds her quirkiness disarming and charming. It's already visible in the way he looks at her on the bridge, when they talk about paper books. And then they go to the holodeck to discuss Picard's detour to Vashti. Since Agnes is the audience stand-in, she asks a bunch of questions, and instead of being annoyed or short, Cris patiently explains everything to her (after offering her a seat). Later, when Cris asks Agnes what she thinks about his outfit for the Stardust City caper and she says he's killing it, there's a beat there. He seems almost a little taken aback, either by her sincerity, or maybe by realizing he values her opinion. It's yet another thing they connect over it. (Also robot boxing. That scene is adorable)

With regards to Agnes… I think partially, she's leaning into her natural humour and quirkiness to appear non-threatening and not give herself away, but I also have another read on her behaviour. (This may partially be me projecting WAY TOO HARD, or, to put it more generously, applying some lived experience to what we see of Agnes's character, so your take on this might be very different. But this is what I see.)

When Agnes and Cris talk before they go off to have sex, Agnes is making jokes and smiling. To me, that doesn’t read as fake or a ploy to manipulate Rios, it seems real. And then when he asks, really asks, how she's feeling, suddenly there is this chasm of pain right under the surface. For me, the idea that Agnes has this intense psychological trauma and is dealing with it by finding joy in little things, like watering the plants, and reading papers, and flirting with the hot captain by completely wrong-footing him with a comment about her dad... it feels very authentic. And I can see how this guy, who pretends to be all uncaring and edgy but is actually a big softie not very far under the surface, and who smiles at her jokes and takes the time to explain stuff to her and listens to her babble, that's a nice distraction from the horrible things happening in her mind. Not in the sense that she's manipulatively using him, but in the sense that this kind of human connection gives her moments of light and gives her reasons to keep going, even through so much pain.

After Agnes kills Maddox, she is deeply, deeply conflicted over what she's done. To the point where when they’re leaving the Artefact, she basically says "I don't care if the world ends if I don't kill Soji. Let it all burn. I just can't do this anymore". And then here is this man, who's kind and caring and, yes, hot, and at first it's "I just want to feel something, anything, and he's here, he's half-naked, he's gorgeous". And Rios isn't necessarily opposed to a no-strings-attached fling. Because he keeps telling himself he doesn't get attached and he hates people and he's only ferrying them around because they're paying him. So it's a distraction with a woman who is quirky and witty and pretty, but it won't mean anything, and that's okay.

And then Agnes changes her mind, because she realizes having sex with Rios will make things more complicated. Or maybe because she thinks Rios deserves better. Or that she shouldn't have sex to distract herself from horrible emotional pain because that's kinda unhealthy.

So she pulls back.

And Rios, instead of being annoyed at missing out or feeling like she led him on, or any number of things, asks her how she's feeling. In a way that makes it clear (at least to me) that he really cares about the answer. And for a moment, Agnes lets him see the true darkness inside her. Because she can pretend it's about Maddox dying, she can pretend it's just about being a lonely nerd. She doesn't have to tell him how bad it really is, but she lets herself feel all of the bad emotions for just a moment.

And then she kisses him again, maybe to shut herself up or to distract herself, or because she needs the connection. And he doesn't have any illusion about what it is they're doing. He knows she's trying to feel better, he essentially tells her he knows it's a way for her to deal with her devastation, and he's okay with it. Maybe because he knows what it's like to feel hollow and terrified and need something, anything to cling to.

And at this point, I think they're both still telling themselves that they don't actually care about each other. Cris because he doesn't want to care about anyone ever again so he won't get hurt. (Which, again, he fails miserably at, but I think that's how he wants to see himself and why he treats his holos with so much disdain that Emil tells Picard "He doesn't get any nicer", even though we see Rios being kind to all the people on board.) And Agnes doesn't really have the brain space to allow herself to fall for anyone. She's just taking little moments of light and human connection where she can get them. And they both decide to have sex as a one-night-stand, just to make Agnes feel better for the night, just because they're both lonely and in pain. No deeper meaning behind it.

And then the whole tracker debacle happens. It takes three days to get to Nepenthe and by the time Agnes goes into a coma, they're still a couple days away at least. She doesn't wake up until Picard is back on board, which means she's out for a long time. Even though we don’t see much of the medical drama, we can assume she was very much at death's door. So, now Rios is faced with once again losing someone he feels somewhat responsible for. Someone he has actually gotten close to. And I think that moment and the fear it causes him might make him start to realize how much he actually cares about her.

And then when Picard and Soji are on board, they all sit down together and figure out the big mystery at the heart of season 1. And here is another thing Cris and Agnes find out they have in common: Both of their lives and minds got destroyed by Oh's machinations. Cris went against everything he believed in when he covered up what Vandermeer had done. He didn't actively kill anyone, but he feels like Vandermeer's death is his fault. His belief in the fundamental goodness of Starfleet was shattered when they threatened to blow up his ship. For Agnes, this kind of shattering of a truth she had clung to comes when she realizes she wasn't acting on the directive of the Head of Starfleet Security in a black-ops mission sanctioned by one of the most important institutions of the Federation. Instead, she was nothing but a pawn, used by Oh for nefarious purposes that had nothing to do with the greater good. The exact circumstances of their traumas are different, but they were both caught up in the same catastrophe and cover-up and it has marked them in similar ways.

I think this is one of the reasons Rios doesn't blame Agnes for killing Maddox. If anything, he gets more protective of her, e.g. by trying to stop Sutra from forcing another mind-meld on Agnes. You can see this in a more subtle scene, too: when Cris says goodbye to Agnes at Coppelius station, he reaches out to touch her face, but then he hesitates and proceeds with extreme gentleness and care. To me, that reads like someone very, very aware of the other person's trauma and possible triggers (forced mind-meld) and caring deeply about making sure she feels safe and has something good to counterbalance the horrible memories.

And finally, we clearly jump quite a bit in time at the very end of season 1. When our motley crew sets out from Coppelius, the Synth Ban has been lifted. Just imagine the bureaucracy that must have taken! That’s not something that can be overturned in a day. Also, Raffi and Seven have had time to connect, so I imagine in that time, Cris and Agnes, too, will have slowly figured out whether they're compatible and whether this relationship is something they might, very carefully and gently, endeavour together.

Because they have a compatible kind of humour, because they understand what it's like to feel deeply broken but to keep going regardless, because she's witty and quirky and he's caring and kind and they went through a very specific hell together, and they might be able to hold each other's hands as they slowly make their ways towards healing.

I’m going to do a metatextual thing here and quote an absolutely gorgeous drabble by @regionalpancake that, to me, encapsulates one very important aspect of the relationship between Cris and Agnes.

     Your Light On Me  

You’d forgotten just how it felt. To feel like you. A stranger, Last seen aboard the Ibn Majid. Proud, red trimmed shoulders, Bright pips, a polished combadge. You signed aboard, And found A different man signed off. You’re old enough to know, She cannot fix you. You wouldn’t want her to. That’s between Pops and you. That’s your work to do, Not hers. But Agnes? Preciosa. Something in her, Shines a light. Reminds you who you are. You have to find, Your own way home. But god, It’s nice, At last, To find, A gentle soul, To hold the lamp.

 Chapter 74 of Downtime

That. Right there. A gentle soul to hold the lamp. I think for me, that's what the relationship between Cris and Agnes boils down to.

They are broken people in a broken world, but by the end of season 1, they have found that they can hold each other while they try to put themselves back together. And what starts out as a fun, distracting flirtation, then turns into "meaningless" sex to stop feeling lonely and sad, finally becomes the beginning of a relationship built on shared trauma, but more importantly on kindness and charm.

I have no idea whether these two can make it work long-term, but I am very much on board for what we've seen so far, and I hope this can help a bit in explaining why.

NB: After I finished writing this a few weeks back, I remembered that there was a fic that came to very similar conclusions. Upon reread, I realized it essentially hits the exact same points I do here and does so absolutely beautifully. So if you want a truly touching in-universe perspective on this relationship, go and read Love Comes Softly by Be_Right_Back (@smhalltheurlsaretaken, or listen to the Podfic recorded by Thimblerig. I cannot recommend this fic highly enough!      

[all-might-can-smash-me]

Friend Zone

Keigo Takami / Hawks x Reader

Summary: You and Keigo grew up together in the system of the Commission and were extremely close, but Keigo finds himself at a loss whenever you begin to talk to a guy while he is desparately in love with you, but who would have thought Endeavor would have knocked some sense into him

Masterlist

It felt like hours of laying there, your tiny hands holding on tight to the comforters of your bed covers, listening to the clock upon the wall tick on. Your eyes would watch the lights of the cars race across the walls before disappearing, along with listen to their fading rumble of the car’s engine. Then there was the lightening that would solace across the walls of the room, the rain pounding on the building and on the ground outside. Usually after someone from the Hero Public Safety Commission would tuck you away for the night, you would have been asleep, but sometimes those nights in your personal room were spent restlessly tossing and turning with your mind buzzing with so many thoughts. Though finally you threw back those covers, hopping down from your bed, feet now beginning to scurry yourself quietly down the cold, quiet hallway, a blanket wrapped around your small body as you counted the doors you passed before finally stopping in front of one, your hand automatically grabbing ahold of the metal handle, slowly twisting it to lean into the room.

“Keigo...!” You whispered before finally stepping in, closing the door behind you. “Keigo, I couldn’t fall sleep.” You continued to whisper, looking to the other boy, maybe a year older than you, perched on the window sill. You figured he probably wasn’t able to sleep either judging by how he was longingly looking out the window before you had entered.

“Me either.” He whispered back as he now carefully stepped back to the ground, hopping back onto his bed, snuggling back up under the covers again. You had also rushed forward after a bolt of thunder, small body soon hopping onto the bed as well and snuggling under the covers. Upon meeting the young boy Keigo after he was taken in, the two of you had become two peas in a pod and this was a normal occurrence between the two of you. When the other couldn’t sleep, they would seek the other out. They would spend those nights together either cuddled away under the blankets upon the bed, talking and giggling away, or maybe even trying to sneak snacks from the kitchen.

“Keigo....?” You called out quietly, small hands once again clutching onto the covers that you had tugged all the way up to your chin. You moved your head to look at Keigo who now looked to you, waiting for you to continue. “Promise...that we’ll always stick together, no matter what..” you said, now reaching your pinky up, which he automatically hooked his pinky with yours.

“Promise...even when we both get out of here....” he said quietly, you nodding your head before bringing your hand back under the covers, no snuggling up to his side to finally let sleep to overtake your mind. As the years went on and the two of you had grown up beside each other, that pinky promise stayed fresh within your heads. How could Keigo forget and how could you? Though it was difficult.

He went on to the heroic path, now having his own agency and being at the top of the charts. A charmer, a heart throb, a hero. You on the other hand? To the disappointment from the establishment that raised you, you created your own ramen shop. It was a hotspot among students from UA and other younger students from other schools in the area. You would also stay open onto the wee hours of night for those poor heroes or sidekicks that got booted into late hour patrols. Though you hummed away as you began to clean off the seating, listening to the tv that played softly from one of the walls, the late night news now doing a recap of today’s headliners, though your vision was obscured as two hands had moved to block your vision.

“Guess who it is!” Came out that voice that always plastered a smile to your face, you whipping around to look at the man. That man who basically made up the other half of you.

“Keigo!” You said as you embraced him tightly, a grin upon your face as you pulled away. “Come on, sit down up here at the bar, I’ll fix you your favorite.” You said as you ushered him to sit, already behind the counter to fix his ramen for him, which he of course sat down, face leaned down upon his hand as he watched you, those protective glasses now pushed up into his messy hair. Though it wasn’t long before a grin stretched out onto his face as you sat the bowl and a pair of chopstick in front of him, his hands instantly pulling it closer to himself.

“You know the right way to my heart, you know.” He said as he was already bringing noddles into his mouth, eyes closing as he savored the flavor of the food before wiping away at his mouth a napkin. “But look at this place! A year or two ago it was some dump that was trying to be sold off to get it off the past owner’s hands! Now? I get fans recommending this place to me!” He spoke out proudly as he let his eyes wonder around the cozy ramen shop before looking back to you.

“Well to be honest, when I first got this place I didn’t think it would work, you know? All I knew was what the commission taught me....” you sighed out as you watched him continue to eat. “But thankfully it worked out.” You said with a little laugh as you were now seated beside him. Thankfully the shop was empty now, those cleaned seats waiting for a late hour hero now.

“But tell me, what’s been going on with you? It’s been a while since the last I could be here.” Hawks spoke out as he now faced you, which you couldn’t help but laugh a little and shake your head.

“Keigo...it’s only been what, two weeks maybe since the last I saw you in person? You also do call me every night or I call you.” You said as you twisted a piece of your hair “But....” you trailed on, the hero before leaning in, eyes wide.

“But? But what? Come on, don’t leave me on edge here!” He complained at your words, you only laughing and resting your head upon your hand as a soft blush crawled onto your cheeks.

“I met a guy!” You giggled out, hands pressing against the blush on your cheeks. “I ran into him while ordering produce for the shop! He’s so nice! And he asked for my number! He comes by every now and then to visit.”

Those words shattered Keigo’s heart into a million pieces as he watched you go on and on about this guy. Pictures of the guy being shown to him so he could see. Though he continued to smile on and nod his head and offer his advice and words of encouragement. Though that ache didn’t leave his chest, not at all. It couldn’t even be melted away by the scolding hot shower he made his body endure when he was back in his apartment later that night and it surely didn’t melt away as he watched his clothes tumble away in the washing machine to rid it of the smell of ramen that reminded him of you.

“Keigo...what the hell are we doing...” came out a voice, the hero being spoken to glancing at the other in the car they sat in, dark shades covering their eyes, clad in dark clothing as the car parked outside of a restaurant.

“Just....watching someone, Enji....” Keigo muttered out as he kicked his feet up on the dashboard, but his legs were slapped away by Enji’s hand, his hand snatching off his suglasses to toss them away with a huff as he leaned back in his own seat at the steering wheel.

“Look, Keigo, I’m not good at this kind of stuff, but I don’t think sitting outside of the restaurant she’s on a date at is the way to go about this.” He soon mumbled out as he squinted out the window to see you sitting at a table, laughing and talking to the man who sat across from you. Though when he looked back to Keigo, he released a sigh at the accusing look he received.

“Yeah, you’re right....you aren’t good at that kind of stuff.” He said accusingly as he crossed his arms, continuing to watch your date unfold from his and Enji’s undercover position. “But I can’t just....ruin stuff.” He muttered out, the silence following his words, but he couldn’t hold his tongue back from continuing to spew out his feelings. “She’s happy! She has a guy she likes...but I want that guy to be me! I was the one who let her sneak into me room to sleep as kids! I was the one who helped her purchase that run down building to make into a ramen shop...” he continued on, now embarrassingly wiping away the tears that dared to brim at his eyes. Enji on the other hand only sighed, running a hand down his face as he listened to the other.

“Keigo, stop sulking! If you liked her, you would stomp right up to her and yell ‘I love you!’ To her, but no, you are just hidden away in a stupid undercover outfit in a car watching her!” He shouted, his hands grabbing ahold of the dark sunglasses that sat on Keigo’s face, tossing them aside “And who the hell wears sunglasses like this at night, this just makes us look weird!”

“Yeah....yeah! You’re right!” He shouted as he nodded his head vigorously. The winged hero now looked to the date that continued to play out at the window, his hand now going to the door to open it, though Enji gasped and quickly went to slam it closed.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

“You just told me to go and profess my feelings!” He shouted accusingly back to the older hero next to him who looked to him in bewilderment, his hand still holding the car door shut.

“No! Not right now! Do it later when she’s back at her apartment or something. You really think she’s going to appreciate you making a huge scene in public? Plus, once everyone gets one glance at your wings they’ll know who you are!” Enji explained as he sat up right, finger moving to lock the car doors with the button at the window, a frown upon his face as he glared to Keigo who only scrambled for words to fight back against the other’s points, but sighed as he flopped back onto his seat, realizing the other was right.

“So what the hell should I do?” Keigo exclaimed dramatically, running a hand through his messy hair, though only lifted his arms up when Enji reached over to pull his seatbelt back on. “Wait! We’ll miss the rest of their date!” He pointed out as he watched Enji place his own seatbelt on.

“You want to win this girl over or not?” The silence from Keigo only provided Enji with the answer. “That’s what I thought! Now tell me, what’s her favorite flower?” He asked, the car rumbling to life and already rolling down the street. From there, Enji and Hawks tried to not be suspicious as they peroised local shops, searching for the right things for the plan Enji was about to place in motion.

“Enji...I can’t do this...” Keigo said as he clutched onto the bouquet of flowers that were in his hands, staring with fearful eyes to the apartment complex that you lived in.

“Keigo...remember all those years ago? When I found you?” He asked, the winged hero nodding his head softly. “You only had the clothes on your back and that beat up figure of me. Though you aren’t that scared, timid boy anymore! You are Hawks!” He said, the other nodding his head at the others pep talk.

“You’re right! I’m gonna go win her over now!” He shouted, the other patting his back as he hopped out the car, already running into the complex and up to your door, knuckles banging onto the surface of the door.

“Kei- I mean...Hawks...what are you doing here?!” You said, eyes wide as you opened the door, though he felt the anger bubble up within him as he saw the other man that you were on a date with sitting on your couch.

“Hey! You! Get out!” He shouted, already pushing past you and into your apartment, stomping up to the other man, bouquet still in hand, starting to square up to the other male.

“Hawks! Stop!” You shouted, though the other man was already up and running out the door and out of your apartment, leaving him to wallow in his shock at his reaction, you yelling angrily at him.

“Oh shit...” Enji muttered out as he saw your date running out the apartment building and up to their car. “Keigo, what did you do!” He groaned out as he nervously waited for something...anything!

“What are you doing?! Do you even realize what you just did! You scared away the guy I just went on a date with! Hello!? Earth to Keigo!” You shouted at him, hands shoving at him gently.

“I...I came to tell you I love you!” He finally managed out as he let your hands shove at his shoulders gently, his hands now dumbly shoving the bouquet of flowers to you, you only stared at it in bewilderment.

“Are you serious!? Keigo! What the hell!” You said as you pressed your fingers to your temples, though you angrily pushed the bouquet back to him. Keigo only shoved it back dumbly once more.

“I came to tell you I love you!” He repeated again, eyes wide with fear, his hand holding the bouquet shaking with his nerves. “I loved you ever since we were kids and I love you so much now! I hated seeing you with that guy because I wanted to be him!” He basically shouted out with his nerves as he still held out the bouquet, you staring at him with wide eyes. Though you could only just stare at him and to the bouquet in his hands. You only sighed as you snatched it from his hands, looking down to the flowers. You couldn’t help but let your anger melt away a bit at the realization that they were your favorite.

“Come on...” you said with a sigh as you motioned him to follow you into the kitchen, which you soon fixed a case, slipping the flowers into the vase to place it down on the kitchen counter next to the small window, Keigo now standing awkwardly off to the side. “Keigo...why now?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder and at him.

“The day I visited you at the shop? It felt like my heart was breaking when you told me about that guy...but I didn’t know what to do...” he started to explain himself as he leaned onto the counter, hand running through his hair as he cringed at the thought of what he had done moments ago. “Endeavor said it would be best to just tell you how I felt...but I ruined it....” He said as he tugged at his hair, embarrassment basically radiating off of him at this point as he avoided looking at you.

“Keigo...I like you, I do...but.....” you trailed off as you leaned on the counter top, him shooting up and staring at you, eyes wide and filled with fear and worry.

“But what? Come on! You know I hate it when you do that!”

“That shit you just pulled was so uncalled for!” You said as you gave a playful punch to his arm, though he was relieved that that was the only thing you had said. “But I like you too...but after all these years I thought you only looked to me as a best friend, that’s it.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders, though Keigo was quick to scope you up in a hug.

“Oh thank goodness...I didn’t really prepare myself for a rejection.” He said jokingly as he pulled back from the hug to lift a hand to push back some of your hair. Though he was distracted by his phone ringing, which he ignored....but then it began to ring again, causing him to groan.

“Come on...come on pick up...” Enji muttered out, nervously tapping against the steering wheel.

“Hello?” Came out that familiar voice of Keigo, Enji sighing in relief.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” He asked, Keigo’s laughter only further confusing him.

“Don’t worry about it...but thanks, for everything Enji, I think you can go home now...” and with that, Enji sat and listened to the dial tone, soon putting his phone away.

“Just to think that one of Japan’s heart throbs had that kind of trouble...” he muttered out as he drove away from the apartment complex.

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Liveblog Ch. 68-69 (nice)

This is the “Castlevania” arc.   It’s only two parts, but I want to slow down and take my time with this one.

Okay, so in the last chapter, Alucard was fighting Alexander Anderson, who used one of the nails from the True Cross to pierce his own heart, which transformed Anderson into some sort of miraculous creature made of thorny tendrils.   Then he struck a heavy blow on Alucard’s head, and just sort of kept on going down his neck and chest.  

And as far as we call tell, this is the most danger Alucard’s been in since the story began.  Anderson lopped off his head in their first encounter, and even that didn’t stop him.   Now, in this “holy monster” form, Anderson can grow back body parts just as easily as Alucard, and he seems to be able to hurt Alucard a lot more than ever before.  The irony is that Alucard might have been honored to lose to Anderson, but only when he was a human foe.  Now that Anderson has used the Nail of Helena to become something inhuman, Alucard feels that it diminishes their fight.   

Regardless, Alucard is in serious danger, or so it seems.   Even his horde of familiars are bursting into flames all around him, which I assume is a side-effect of Anderson’s attack.   As this happens, Alucard appears to lose consciousness, and flashes back to his childhood. 

This whole flashback seemed like a nonsequitur to me when I watched the Hellsing Ultimate OVA, but I think it makes a bit more sense this time around.  As a boy in the 1440′s, Vlad Tepes was something of a religious fantatic, much like Father Anderson in 1999.   He pledged to never ask God for anything, which I don’t think is theologically sound, but let’s run with it.  The point here seems to be that Vlad felt it was more pious to endure hardship while keeping his faith in God.

For example, in this scene, we see Vlad being dragged away to be raped, and he grabs the cross he wears around his neck for solace.   He doesn’t beg God for mercy or deliverance, but simply clings to his faith to see him through.   

I’m assuming the man in shadow is Sultan Murad II of the Ottoman Empire.  In 1442, Murad summoned Vlad’s father to Gallipoli, and he went there with Vlad and his brother Ruda.  The Sultane then imprisoned all three of them, and eventually released Vlad’s father, but kep the boys as hostages to ensure the fahter’s loyalty.   There was a period when Vlad’s father sided against the Ottomans, and he presumed his sons had been killed, but in fact they survived and eventually returned to Wallachia.   So maybe Kouta Hirano is taking some creative license here, and suggesting that Murad II took out his anger on Vlad in other ways. 

Eventually, Vlad became the Voivoide of Wallachia, and in this flashback we find that he considers fighting to be a form of prayer.   Not for mercy, because Vlad refuses to ask for that.   Instead, he seems to believe that if you just keep fighting hard enough, God will descend from the heavens.   None of this made sense to me the first time around, but once you start interpreting this in the context of Vlad as a religious extremist, it starts to add up.   Anderson’s fellows in the Iscariot Organization were literally blowing themselves up to help Anderson defeat Alucard, and they were happy to do it, because they saw it as a holy mission.    Anderson himself was eager to use the Nail to make himself into a monster, because he craved to be a single-minded instrument of God’s will.   A righteous bludgeon to smite the wicked.    Vlad Tepes’ “bloodlust” seems to have been inspired by a similar zealotry, at least as Hirano sees it.

But in the end, did God descend to respond to Vlad’s “prayers”?   The image of the modern Alucard is all the answer we need.    Of course that didn’t happen.  

I’m just cribbing from the Vlad the Impaler page on Wikipedia, but from what I gather about Vlad’s final years, he was fighting for the office of Voivoide of Wallachia against Basarab Laiotă , who had support from the Ottoman Empire.   Vlad fought and lost, probably dying in battle in December 1476/Janury 1477.   The story goes that his corpse was cut into pieces, and his head sent to Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II.

So Kouta Hirano depicts Vlad’s final moments with him being captured and executed.  This is certainly plausible, and it gives Vlad a chance to reflect on his failure before he meets his fate.    He fought and killed so many people, daring to resist the Ottomans even as he ruled a state that was basically controlled by the Ottomans, and I guess he must have known how impossible that would be, which is why he counted on God to deliver him, so long as he fought hard enough.

But in that final moment, just as the axe comes down on his neck, he still has his cross... but instead of taking solace in that, he reaches out instead for the puddle of blood in front of him.    The axe comes down and shatters the cross, just as Vlad Tepes forsakes his humanity.  

So maybe all of this is a way of Alucard accepting defeat.   Defeated and humbled, no longer a servant of God or a leader of men, no longer even a man, he renounced his faith and became the vampire Dracula, and eventually Alucard.    But now Anderson seems to have the upper hand, so maybe, after 523 years, Vlad Tepes is back where he started, facing an inevitable death.  

And you know, maybe Anderson’s monster form represents the divine intervention he was waiting for back in the 15th Century.   After all these centuries of battle, you might say that God finally did descend from heaven to respond to Alucard.   So maybe this is a fitting swan song for the guy.  He wanted to die at the hands of a human adversary, but maybe this works too, right?  

But then he hears someone calling out to him, and...

Hey, it’s Seras!

So yeah, we’re back to the real world, and Anderson’s well on his way to chopping Alucard in half and burning him with holy fire or something...

And Alucard’s still out of it...

And then Seras jumps in to save his ass!   Cool!

The only problem is that this was killing Alucard, and Seras is less powerful than Alucard, so she’s probably not going to be able to do a lot of good here.    For that matter, this might just get both of them killed.  

And this is why I think this moment is cool.   When Team Four Star did their Abridged parody of Hellsing, they sort of skipped this whole “Seras jumps in” part of the fight.   Instead, they did a whole thing where Alucard has a near-death experience and talks to God.   Then he rejects God’s offer of forgiveness and goes on to defeat Anderson by himself.   I don’t care much for that, because Seras is my favorite character, and I find the whole routine of “Well maybe I don’t need your forgiveness, God!” kind of stale and limp.    Can something be stale and limp at the same time?  

Like, I think I get that a lot of atheists are sore at the whole “organized religion” thing, but it seems kind of silly to write a whole bit where the premise is that God is real, but only so we can all tell him to get lost.  Like, I’m a Christian, so I can’t really relate, but if I thought God didn’t exist, I wouldn’t spend all day writing angry text messages to God to remind him of how fake he is.  

But mostly, I just really like Seras, and this is a cool Seras scene, and I think that deserves attention, so here we are.

The Alucard-Seras relationship is complex by design.    With Integra and Alucard, there’s not much to it.   She literally addresses him as “slave” at one point, and he repeatedly talks about himself like a weapon that she has to point at her target.   There’s something kind of like that with Al and Seras.   In one of their first missions together, he sends her to take out a bunch of ghouls just so he won’t be bothered, and it’s almost like he’s weilding her as a weapon.  But he also never leans on that too hard.  For one thing, there’s not a whole lot of thngs Seras can do for him that he can’t do more easily himself.   

It feels a lot more like a Master/Apprentice relationship, which may not strictly be a vampire thing, because he’s teaching her how to hunt vampires and how to be a vampire at the same time.  I think Seras has the same sort of devotion to her master as he does for Integra, but that’s mostly overshadowed by a more down-to-earth respect and admiration.   She sees him like a superior officer and a mentor, but she also knows that he has this strange charm over her that she can’t explain or resist.  

One of the things I can’t stand about he Gonzoverse Hellsing Anime is how after a while they just started having Seras say “Master...!” over and over.    I get it, there’s some power in the way she says it.   It means a lot of things to her.   I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that “Castlevania part 2″ inspired some of that, but I don’t know what chapter of the manga was published when the anime wrapped up.   But it annoyed me that they just used “Master...!” over and over again as a shorthand for Seras’s feelings.   You have to do something with it.  Demonstrate it, like we’re seeing here with Seras trying to remove a blessed bayonet from Alucard’s torso.    She has to help him, even if it means risking her own neck, because he means so much to her, and she wouldn’t be here without him.   And yeah, she’s his vampire servant, so this seems like something a loyal servant should be doing.   Stickin’ together is what good waffles do.

Let me pause here to note that this marks the destruction of whatever remained of Dandyman and Rip van Winkle, the only “name” characters featured in Alucard’s menagerie of absorbed souls.    Whatever Anderson is doing to Alucard, it’s destroying them, irrevocably.  

So it occurred to me one day, what if Seras has to save Alucard, not out of slavish devotion or plucky heroism, or even righteous loyalty?   Way back in Chapter 1, Integra explained vampires to the local authorities, and said that when you kill a vampire, you also destroy all the ghouls and servant vampires that were created by that first vampire.   In other words, if Alucard were to be destroyed, Seras ought to die with him.    So maybe her efforts here could be nothing more than self-preservation.    I’m not wild about that idea.   Maybe, after drinking Pip’s blood, Seras “graduated” from that lowly status, and she no longer depends upon Alucard in this way.  

But I think the point remains either way.   They’re in this together.   Alucard called the two of them a family, and it wasn’t just creepy vampire talk.   There’s a bond between them, and it matters to both of them.   And that’s why Seras’ intervention here is what brings Alucard back from the brink.   By rushing in to help him, Seras has placed herself in danger, and now they have to rescue each other.

I like this part where he puts his hand on hers as they pull out the bayonet together.    It’s like the moment when Seras reached out to Alucard in Cheddar and he took her hand then.   Well, that was only in the OVA, but still.  

Alucard tells Anderson that he might have welcomed a death like this, maybe back when he was about to get beheaded in 1476, but now, he refuses to be defeated.    523 years ago, he was at his lowest ebb.   He had nothing.   Today, he has Seras.  

And... yeah, he has Integra too.   I don’t want to dismiss the importance of that relationship.   But Integra could find a way to get by without him if she needed to.   He has a responsibility to Seras, though, and Seras’s loyalty trumps whatever death-fantasies he might have on his mind.

Then Al turns into this form, which I guess is the same outfit he was wearing back in 1989, when Integra found him in the basement.  Not sure if that’s supposed to mean anything, though.  

Oh, and I guess there’s still a few familiars that didn’t burn up from before?   This is the last time we see them though, so maybe this final attack finishes them off.

As Alucard strikes the final blow on Anderson, Integra flashes back to her father, who taught her about the vampires’ inner psyche.    Arthur Hellsing suggested that vampires don’t have a whole lot to show for their immortality.   They crave conflict, not for its own sake, but becuse they long for death.   Not just any ol’ death, but a kind of death that they could take some solace in.   We’ve already seen this in Alucard, as he seems to relish the idea of being killed by a human like Anderson, or van Helsing.    If all he wanted was death, he could have let that Ottoman headsman finish the job 523 years ago.   Instead, he lost everything, and he’s spent centuries with nothing to take comfort in.   And that probably explains why Alucard is so happy with his service to Integra.   At least she gives him a purpose, a duty, a cause to fight for.  

And finally, Alucard rips out Anderson’s heart, with the Holy Nail still in it. 

And he crushes it, which I guess it enough to neutralize the Nail’s effect?   Well, cool enough then.

But Al takes no pleasure in this victory.   He sees in Anderson a reflection of himself, back when he was a human.   The fanaticism, the failure, the rejection of humanity to become a monster, and then failure again.   

And then Anderson, or whats’ left of him, consoles Alucard before he dies.

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 35

Chapter 35

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave a suggestion for this. I honestly hadn’t considered it in the story; but it actually made sense given how little Fred and Y/N had spent talking about it.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut

Word Count: 7100

You are in the lobby of the hockey arena waiting for Oliver. The twins are asleep in their stroller; you gently rocking it back and forth to help them nap. The game ended over twenty minutes ago and Fred went to the change room to help get him out of his hockey equipment.

It’s been a couple weeks since Fred’s injury; he has been home for most of it. When at the rink he has been spending his time with trainers off the ice. That was until yesterday, he managed to do a short session with the goalie coach and some basic drills but likely won’t be back until after Christmas.

You know it’s been hard for him, since that game the team fell into a slump. They have won a few games in regulation, but overall the team is struggling being outplayed and outscored. The hardest part for him is feeling completely helpless because he is sidelined.

As he started to improve he was able to spend more time with the kids; and Oliver has been loving getting all the cuddles from Fred. Today Fred decided to join you at Oliver’s hockey game.

You were a little unsure of the idea, not wanting it to be too much for him, but he reassured you he would be fine; and once Oliver heard you knew there was no way Fred wouldn’t come. After helping Oliver get in his equipment Fred told you he was beaming in the change room; his smile never fading, introducing Fred to everyone though he has already met them earlier in the season.

You look down at your watch; it’s almost 10:45, your stomach growling loudly. You ate breakfast at seven, but around now you normally would have a snack but forgot to pack something. The little baby in your belly really making the eating for two seem like a reality right now. Finally you see Fred leave the change room carrying Oliver’s hockey bag in one hand and holding his hand with his other.

Your son is practically skipping as he makes his way down the hall. As soon as he sees you he releases Fred’s hand and takes off running to you “Mommy!”

You catch him mid jump “good game buddy!” you say squeezing him.

“Did you see me?”

“Yeah you were great” you reply “you played awesome. Looked like your daddy in net” you say and he smiles at your words. The biggest compliment for him is being compared to his hero.

“Where is your dad?” you ask him realizing Fred hasn’t made his way to you.

“People wanted his picture” Oliver shrugs confused.

“Yeah people are excited to see him” you respond scanning around the hockey arena.

As soon as you sat down there was whispers and a couple kids came up asking for pictures. It’s something you have learned to get used to over the past few years.

Fred is always willing to take pictures with fans, especially kids. Every time he apologizes even though you have told him countless times you don’t mind. You love how he interacts with fans, and how taking a few minutes makes their day. While you understand how important fan engagement is, Oliver doesn’t understand the hype around it. To him Fred and all the other players are just people, normal people he knows.

“Did you see my save? The one I stopped with my stick” you hear Oliver ask and you dive into a conversation with your son about his game.

Your eyes find Fred standing with a woman and her son, who is Oliver’s age. You engage in the conversation with your son but can help and notice the large smile on her face, how her dark brown hair shines under the lights. While it’s not uncommon for Fred to talk to the parents of young fans, you notice how close she is standing and how her child doesn’t seem interested in him at all.

You gently set Oliver on the ground while the two of them continue to chat away. You drop random “uh huh” or an “oh really” but you lose all focus when you watch her hand touch his bicep while they laugh at something he said.

You swallow a lump in your throat and take a deep breath but it doesn’t stop you from feeling like the walls are shattering around you. You hear Oliver babbling away but his voice continues to fade away into the background. Your stomach almost jumps into your throat and your chest tightens. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you don’t be concerned. And you almost believe it, that is until you watch her stroke up his arm.

“Mommy” Oliver pulls on your sleeve and grabbing your attention.

“Yeah bud” you say snapping your eyes down to his.

“I said I’m thirsty” he repeats.

“Oh” you reply with a shaky voice. You fumble into your bag and pull out your water bottle handing it to him. When you look back to where Fred was you notice he is gone and you turn your attention back to Oliver

Finally you feel the familiar touch of Fred’s hand on your back and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body stiffens against his touch, you reach down to take the bottle back from Oliver to hide the real reason you pulled away.

“Ready?” he asks taking the stroller from you, while you take Oliver's hand as he skips in excitement. The drive is filled with Oliver’s excited chatter from the back seat, you stare out the window not having much to say.

Fred’s hand reaches across the car finding your stomach, slowly rubbing over your bump. You relax into the seat, Fred chuckling while Oliver rambles on about his friends on his team. You replay the scene from the arena over and over in your head, you remember she was in the stands; her son having played against Oliver. But did she look towards Fred, did his eyes wander?

“Can I mom?” Oliver calls out and Fred gently nudges you with his hand.

“Hmm what was that?” you ask being brought back from your trance.

You feel Fred glare at you from the side of his eye “Kyle said I could have a sleepover at his house” he repeats “can I?”

You chuckle slightly knowing this is one of his friends on the team, after every game or practice he always has something funny to tell you that Kyle said or did. “I’ll have to talk to his parents” you respond.

“Yeah talk to them mommy” he cheers and Fred laughs shaking his head.

“We will but not today, we have the party this afternoon” Fred says pulling into your driveway.

As soon as the car is in park Oliver jumps out the car “when’s the party daddy?”

“In a couple hours” he says grabbing Noah “after lunch.”

Oliver runs into the house leaving his boots and coat in a pile on the floor and making his way to the living room. You take the twins and follow him while Fred takes his hockey equipment to air out. You have a relaxing afternoon, Oliver plays with his Lego and various toys, the twins nap and play on their activity mat. You rest on the couch scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

Multiple times over the next few hours you feel Fred’s eyes find you. His eyes are soft but full of concern. He can sense something is wrong, but he also doesn’t know if it’s just the pregnancy dragging you down today. Instead of asking he gives you time in case you are just tired, thinking maybe you just need some time to rest.

“The boys are cute” Kathy says giving you a hug while you stand at the snack table. You laugh lightly seeing the twins in plaid shirts and vests, one of them held in Fred’s arm while Oliver immediately took off to find his friends. You didn’t dress them, Fred actually had their coats on before you came downstairs so you had no idea all your boys were matching until you got here.

He bounces them in his arms and shoots you a smile when he catches you staring. He aims them towards you and their green eyes light up when they see you. A half smile crosses your face, but Fred senses the emptiness behind it and a scowl crosses his. You look away with a displeased groan grabbing a cup.

“How are you doing?” she asks as you pour some water.

“We’ve been good; now that Fred’s symptoms are mostly gone it’s been better. Oliver loves having him around though” you respond taking a sip.

“That’s great but I asked how you are. Seems like something is going on” she says softly. “Having him at home the past few weeks should be good. You two are almost nauseating to watch sometimes. You came in after him, and haven’t spent a second beside him and don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was” her index finger pointing between the two of you.

You laugh a little and turn towards her “we’re fine” you lie.

You hear her groans as she grips your hand pulling you down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Spill.”

You roll your eyes and back up against the counter. Anyone else wouldn’t have given you a second glance, some would have bought your fake smiles and those that didn’t would have assumed it was hormones or exhaustion from the pregnancy. But not Kathy; she knows you too well.

You start by telling her how it’s nothing and how you are overreacting; that you are likely reading too far into it. You get into the woman at Oliver’s hockey game, how they seemed to be really close, too close. You tell her how when he said something she touched his arm and gently grazed over his muscles.

You ramble for twenty minutes and at the end finish by saying how you have no idea what they talked about. It could have been about him donating time or merchandise for a charity event; that they were so far away you couldn’t hear anything.

You expect her to tell you you’re overthinking it. That it could have been nothing, or maybe she was trying to flirt with him but that doesn’t mean anything. That you can’t get upset over what strangers do. That just because she flirted with Fred it doesn’t mean he flirted back.

Instead she takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you for a few minutes saying nothing. The silence is deafening; you swear you feel the walls closing in around you before you finally speak.

“During the playoffs last year when I was pregnant Fred kissed someone else.”

You can tell by her silence and that her eyes not meeting yours that she already knew that.

You thought saying those words would be liberating; finally telling someone what he did. Instead you feel yourself fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. Your hands tighten around her back, clenching on the fabric of her sweater. Your body shakes against hers; warm tears staining her shirt.

Her hands gently run up and down your back; soothing you. You grip her shirt tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat until your eyes begin to dry.

“Sounds like you and him have some stuff to talk about.”

You thought this had been left in the past, you had accepted and processed it and dealt with all your emotions. But now after watching what should have been a harmless interaction you realize you have some unresolved feelings and paranoia. Likely because you never had a dedicated conversation about everything that happened.

You basically shut Fred out for days while you processed everything. You wanted to calm down and think over everything; make sure you didn’t say something you would regret. Once you had your time you were going to invite Fred to share your bed again and begin to have the conversations needed to move on.

Then the car accident happened. Fred tried to talk with you after but at that point it didn’t seem important to you. You had long decided you were going to forgive him, and with everything that happened focusing on your recovery and the twins seemed more important than tearing open old wounds.

You and Fred should have sat down; even for a brief conversation. What happened today should have been nothing, it shouldn’t have triggered you the way it did. Fred didn’t do anything besides stop to take a picture with a child; this woman decided to touch him. And he was at your side in under a minute of that happening, making it pretty obvious he got away as quick as possible. If your trust hadn’t of become fractured seven months ago you wouldn’t be in your head right now.

Once you return to the party you feel Fred’s eyes immediately find you. He can see the redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. He knows you have been crying, but what makes it worse is you are blocking him out. You can feel the pleading of his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He watches while you get a snack, while you chat with some of the women. He smiles watching you and Oliver decorate stockings, part of the Christmas crafts the team has set up. He laughs watching when Oliver shakes his, spilling the excessive amount of glitter onto your lap. To everyone else you seem happy, like you are having a great night.

You feel his eyes burning a hole in you and eventually find his gaze, his entire face lights up; he thinks maybe he was right, maybe the pregnancy is just tiring you out. But Fred sees the emptiness behind your eyes, the hollowness in the half smile. You swear you hear his heart fall as you pull your eyes from him.

“You ready for Santa” you ask walking up beside Fred a few moments later; bouncing the twins in your arms. They coo in response having no idea what you are saying. But Oliver who is clinging to Fred’s neck cheers in response.

“When is Santa coming daddy?” he asks eyes lighting up.

“I heard that his sleigh landed on the roof a few minutes ago” he says and you watch as Oliver’s eyes go wide. You hear some jingling of bells and Oliver drops down eagerly running to the group of children. The entire room erupts as he walks in, but Fred places a hand on the small of your back pulling you into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks softly leaning close to your ear.

You give him a small nod in response, his breath on your neck would normally ignite your core, send a dampness between your legs but today it doesn’t. Today it irritates you but Fred doesn’t stop trying to break your walls down.

“Don’t lie to me” he says pulls Lucas from you, his hand resting gently on your hip as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nothing” you lie shifting on your feet to pull away from him ever so slightly.

“Are we seriously going to play this game (Y/N)” he groans. “Just tell me.”

“Not here” you hiss in response.

“So it is something” he says.

“Yes” you retort. As you begin to walk away you hear Fred sigh loudly but he uses his better judgement and doesn’t follow you.

He joins you for a family picture with Santa, and even asks Sid to take the twins so the two of you can get a picture just the two of you. Apart from that he gives you space while also remaining close.

You can tell he is bothered he comes up beside you a couple times and tries to talk to you, but each time his mouth falls shut and he saunters off. He has no idea what he did, and how could he? How could he know you’re actually bothered by something that happened months ago?

After buckling everyone in the car Fred climbs out of the back, you place your bags and coats on the floor before closing the door. When you turn around Fred is waiting off to the side. He opens your door for you but instead of getting in you walk into his chest.

After the immediate shock Fred’s arms wrap around you. You feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes, but you sniffle them away. He feels your body gently heave and tightens his grip around you, holding you close; his body keeping you sheltered from the crisp Pittsburgh air.

You sigh against him and pull away, wordlessly climbing into the car. Fred gently shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side, you can tell he is confused but he says nothing starting the drive home. It’s a silent drive, you staring out the passenger window, Fred turns the volume of the radio down until it’s almost inaudible, you don’t need to turn around to see that all your sons have fallen asleep.

Once home you carefully take Oliver to bed and tuck him while Fred does the same with the twins. You change into some pyjamas and begin your night routine. At some point Fred comes in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Normally he would wait in the bathroom for you, his hand resting on your bump, groaning when you reach for another product instead of being done and ready for bed. You would shoot him a playful smirk and he would resume his post patiently waiting for you finish.

But not tonight, tonight he leaves once he is done; letting you finish your routine alone. You wash your face, brush out your hair and pull it into a loose bun on the top of your head. When you are finally done you find Fred sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you.

“Hey” he says seeing you nervously playing with his hands

“Hey” you reply shooting him a soft smile. You sit beside him curling your legs up on the mattress.

“What’s going on?” he chuckles awkwardly.” I replayed today through my head a million times from every angle and I have no idea what I did” he huffs. “We had coffee in bed before the boys woke up and it was great. We had breakfast and got ready for hockey everything was great until the party. Something shifted and I don’t know what. Did I leave some dishes in the sink or some socks on the floor? Did I say something stupid, like what did I do?”

“Nothing” you whisper.

“No don’t say nothing. Something is wrong so tell me. What did I do wrong?” he shifts closer to you and rests his hand on your ankle. You see the pleading in his eyes as he gently lifts your chin.

“You didn’t do anything” you repeat, Fred shaking his head running his hand through his hair frustrated at your response. You grip his hand and bring it back down to the bed “you didn’t do anything…today.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffs.

“After the game when you were walking back to the lobby you were stopped for pictures and what not by some people” he nods slightly. “Well a woman came up to you, dark hair.”

“Yeah her son wanted a picture” he explains.

“Right well I saw that, but then the two of you talked for a couple minutes. She was standing really close and I saw her touch your arm, and I don’t know it made me jealous or something.”

“Babe I didn’t want anything to do with her, I basically ran back to you right after that. I mean she’s not my type you don’t have to worry” he replies.

“Wait I don’t have to worry because she isn’t your type” you rise to your feet walking away.

“That’s not what I meant, they are two separate statements” you hear the sound of his footsteps getting closer. “Even if she was my type you wouldn’t have to worry, you’re it for me babe” he comes up resting his hands on your hip his voice low and in your ear. “You’re the only one I have eyes for. Nobody else elske.”

“But that hasn’t always been the case” you say pushing his hands off your hips. “I mean seven months ago you kissed someone else.”

You hear him sigh behind you and you take a large gulp. You turn around to face him seeing regret fill his face. His face falls and you blink through your pain before continuing “seeing that today bothered me and I know it shouldn’t. I knew nothing happened but it really bothered me. Eight months ago it wouldn’t have, but after finding out about you…I…I don’t know” you shake the image from your head, trying to compose yourself. 

Fred walks over to you and wraps his arms around you “I get it babe” he sighs .

“I guess I thought I was fine. That I was over it, it didn’t bother me. But it does bother me” you say choking on some sobs. Fred tightens his grip on you, completely engulfing you in his arms while you begin to sob against his chest. You clench his t-shirt while warm tears roll down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about it then. Whenever you’re ready, and as much as you need” he says hands finding the back of your neck to hold you tight against him.

“I want to” you take a deep breath and wipe the side of your eye “now.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down crossing your legs, Fred joins sitting a few feet from you waiting for you to start. You sit in silence for a few minutes trying to find the words, not knowing where to start.

“I know you love me” you grab his hands in yours. “I know you would do anything for me, our family. But it’s not easy. We only got together because I got pregnant, if I didn’t I don’t think we’d be here.”

As you talk you watch his facial expression change; he stares at you like you’re crazy. Like he has no idea where that is coming from; because he never felt that way and doesn’t want you to. And it something that has been mentioned a few times, and you know it irritates him when anyone thinks that way. But it kills his to think you believe it.

“I don’t think that’s true babe. I mean yeah that brought us together, but we took our time. We built this right and we wouldn’t be here after all this time if we only were together because of you getting pregnant. It was almost two years after we got pregnant that we finally figured out or feelings and got together. If we were only together because of Ollie we would have been together from the start and it likely wouldn’t have been so hard. We both wouldn’t have gotten hurt so much in the process.”

“Okay but I get insecure because of that, and women constantly throw themselves at you which doesn’t help. But I was able to ignore it befre, let it all become background noise until you kissed someone. Now I see someone flirt with you and I can’t help but be jealous” you say through foggy eyes.

“I know I’m not always easy to be with” he shifts to be closer to you, pulling you into his lap “but I love you so much.”

“I never doubted that” you whine against his chest looking down in your lap. You nervously pick at your nails, trying to avoid eye contact “I just. I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Silence fills the air and you sense his hesitation “do you still want me, to be with me?”

“What” your head snaps up finding his dark eyes glazed with tears “of course I do.”

“Still want to marry me” he whispers afraid of the answer.

“Yes Frederik of course I do.”

“Do you want me to go to a hotel, give you some time –“

“No Fred I don’t want that” you almost snap at his questions. “I just need you to know that what you did hurt, and sometimes it still bothers me. The last time you cheated on me I was pregnant, and I’m pregnant again now so it’s hard. It’s hard because I want to trust it won’t happen again and I do trust it; until something happens and I doubt everything.”

You hear him mumble a fuck against your hair finally putting together your struggles. You practically hear the wheels stop turning as he finally has connected all the dots that led to your pain. It’s not that you are worried about him cheating, you are worried the stress of the pregnancy will get to him and it will happen again.

His hand rests on your waist, hesitantly finding its way onto your bump. You hear Fred sniffle as some tears land in your hair. The past 12 weeks you have had fears of Fred cheating on you again, dreams of that day and thanks to your pregnancy they have been vivid.

In some dreams it’s almost like you are replaying that day, you get sent a picture. Another dream or more like nightmare is you walking in to your bedroom and he is in bed buried deep inside another woman. You know these are just dreams but it doesn’t help your anxiety.

He runs his hand up and down your arm while you soak his shirt with your tears. He continues to try to soothe you but his attempts fail and you begin to sob uncontrollably. He holds you tight, you don’t even know for how long.

Finally your body relaxes and the tears in your eyes have dried, bottom lip stopped trembling. Your vision is still slightly blurred but you tilt your head to look at Fred showing your puffy cheeks. His face is wrecked with emotion; eyes wet with his own tears.

“I hate when you cry, but it’s so much worse when I’m the cause of it” he says laughing through his tears. You bring your thumb up to wipe his away, he gently rests his cheek against your palm.

“I love seeing you pregnant, I always have. There is something about seeing the woman I love carry my baby; words can’t even describe the feeling” you smile slightly at his words. “And I am so sorry I took what should be an amazing beautiful time” his hand lands on your stomach and he softly strokes over it “and put seeds of doubt into it. But tell me what you need to make this better. Whether it’s a night away, or a puppy or if you need to hit me whatever it is lets do it.”

“I don’t need or want to hit you” you laugh slightly. “And a puppy would be way too much work right now.” Fred’s lips gently land on your forehead as he rocks you back and forth. You relax into his touch bringing your hand through his beard and onto his chest. “I don’t know if there is any one thing; if the situation was reversed and I kissed someone do you think there is one thing that could fix it?”

He doesn’t respond. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know or doesn’t want to say it; not that you were expecting a response.

“Honestly I’m drained; me and the baby just want to curl up under the blankets and get some sleep” you sigh.

“Okay” he whispers pulling his hands away from you.

Your body is weak as you crawl out his lap; slipping under the cold sheets. Fred sits at the bottom of the bed not sure if you want him to join. You fold the blanket on his side down and tap the empty space and he quickly fills it, not needing to be told twice.

He lies on his back not bothering to pull the blankets up his body. His gaze locks on your ceiling, but you can see his pupils shifting as he replays the conversation; or maybe that night eight months ago. You slide closer to Fred and rest your hand on his chest, using his bicep as a pillow.

His hand lands on your back and he pulls you in close, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You can feel the tension exuding off of him and can hear his uneasy breathing. After the night you had you are mentally exhausted and practically fall asleep instantly, though you know Fred will be awake for hours.

The next morning you wake up on your side facing away from Fred, some of the morning light beginning to trickle through your blinds. You don’t need to look at your clock to know you are earlier than normal; the kids likely sleeping for another 45 minutes.

You roll over and Fred is staring at the ceiling the same position you left him in last night. The bags under his eyes and red in his pupils telling you he didn’t sleep well. While you were emotionally drained and fell asleep relatively easily, you felt Fred tossing and turning beside you which woke you up multiple times.

“Hey” he whispers a faint smile finding his face when he sees you. “How’d you sleep?”

Shifting in your sheets, you embrace the exhaustion carried over from the night before. Normally you would try to fall back asleep until the twins cried over the monitor or you hear Oliver footsteps running down the hall towards your room.

“Okay” you yawn. Fred smiles lightly brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Not sleep good?” you ask, he shakes his head in response.

“How could I?” he sighs turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry” you whisper.

“No you don’t have anything to apologize for. I fucked up and your feelings are valid”

“I kind of feel better, I think maybe I just had to get it all out. Tell you how I was feeling” you say crawling over to him. It’s not a lie, you didn’t necessarily need anything to happen or for Fred to do anything He just needed to know how you felt, be aware of the problem. Maybe if you hadn’t brushed it under the rug many months ago your feelings would be resolved.

“I’m glad” he responds his lips hesitantly press to your forehead. You melt into his touch, your hand sliding up his shirt feeling his warm skin under your nails. You tilt your head gently pressing your lips to Fred’s.

You can sense his hesitation as you crawl on him sinking into the kiss. You know he can taste your morning breath but he doesn’t care, opening his mouth to allow you entrance. His lips are slightly chapped like usual as your tongue swipes along his lower lip; he moans when you suck on his lower lip pulling it back slightly.

His hands tentatively find your hips holding you on his stomach. Your tongue slides inside his mouth, your hand finding his rough beard and gently rakes through it. Your mouths move in sync with one another, his hands slowly begin to wander around to the back of your thighs before returning to your hips. You gently grind down on him, feeling his tip separated by some thin fabric between your cheeks. After a few minutes Fred pulls away leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I never want you to be insecure, especially because of me” he whispers. He gently pushes you onto your back, him resting on his side. “You’re it for me, my other half; my better half. You complete me and I never want you to worry. No other girl has a shot with me” his mouth attaches to your neck peppering you with soft kisses.

“You are the only girl I want to curl up beside after a game. The only girl who will make me watch the Notebook only to turn it off with 15 minutes left because it’s too sad to finish.” You roll your eyes at that but can’t help a grin from crossing your face.

He crawls on top of you; your hands stroking along his biceps. “You’re the only girl I want stealing my sweaters, the only girl I want to kiss” he briefly presses his lips to yours. His knee gently finds a spot between your legs spreading them open a couple inches.

You moan ever so lightly you aren’t even sure Fred heard it until he smirks against your lips. “You’re the only girl I want to make those sounds come out of.” You clear your throat and bite your bottom lip as Fred’s mouth presses to the side of your neck. Your eyelashes kiss your cheek your body squirming while wetness begins to pool in your core.

“You’re the only girl I want to touch” he gently presses a kiss to your jaw bone, a finger trailing down your arm. “The only girl I want to taste” he licks along your collarbone. He places warm open mouth kisses on your collarbone finding its way to your sweet spot.

A light giggle falls from your lips as his mustache tickles your ear. You know Fred is enjoying this but he won’t touch you further until you allow it.

“Freddie” you moan and feel him smirk against your neck.

“Yes smuk” he mumbles against your skin as goosebumps begin to form.

“I need you” you moan out softly. Before you even finish getting the words out your shirt is off, his large hands finding your breasts, easily cupping them in his palm. His movements are soft and gentle as he waits for your response.

He massages your breast in one hand; gently rolling the nipple through his finger. You gasp at the feeling, them being slightly sensitive from the pregnancy. Fred eases his touch but doesn’t pull away; his mouth dipping down to suck on your other breast.

Your back arches in response soft moans escaping your lips. You expect him to continue down your body but he continues to work on your breasts for a few more minutes. You feel your cunt dripping your hands finding his hair. Instead of tangling your fingers in his hair you try to push his large frame down further and earn a deep seeded chuckle from him.

“Someone’s eager” he mumbles against you; soft curse words fall from your lips. His hand slides down your body slipping inside your pyjama pants. His fingers graze over your folds coating them in your juices. He smirks against your breast “very eager eh” he jokes feeling your wetness.

His large hands easily push your pants down your legs, they bunch just below your knees. He continues to suck on your breast while his hand caresses up the back of your thigh. He gives your ass a squeeze, pulling your body down the bed until your pussy finds his thigh.

He flexes his muscular thigh, your pussy trembling on him. You begin to slowly roll your hips in search of more friction. Fred lets out a soft moan at the feeling of his muscles pressing against your throbbing clit.

His hands find your hip, rough fingers digging in, encouraging the motion of your hips. His lips still wrapped around one of your hardened nipples. Breathy whimpers leaving your mouth as you grind your hips against him; earning a few low groans from him. Your moans turn to whimpers needing more contact.

“Fred please” you whine voice thick with need and desperation.

He releases his mouth from your breast and slowly trails down your body. When he reaches your pelvis he sucks hard likely leaving a mark; his nails digging into your hips. He hooks your legs over his shoulders his mouth places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to the bed as he bites up your thigh. Your head falls into the pillow and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Even though he has barely touched you the anticipation almost has you going over the edge.

You gasp when his lips finally attach to your clit, placing some soft kisses on your folds. He pulls back, lips ghosting barely a centimeter from your skin causing your hips to buck up. Fred flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up; a dark groan leaves Fred’s throat tasting your wetness. Your back begins to arch but his grip tightens holding you to the bed.

His tongue slowly slips inside your walls and your hands tangle into his messy locks, gripping tight to the scalp as his tongue moves in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, Fred groaning under you. His nose presses into your clit as whispered curse words fall from yours.

He flicks his tongue inside you, curling in your walls. His teeth gently graze your folds; you breathe out a fuck as the coil in your abdomen gets painfully tight. You aren’t sure if Fred heard you or if he can sense it, until you hear him hum in response.

You tremble knowing you are hanging on the edge, “I’m gonna cum” you manage to pant out. You feel Fred smirk below you but he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil inside you snaps; your orgasm washing over you. Fred works you through your high groaning as you flutter around his mouth. An incoherent noise leaves your lips the heels of your feet digging into his back. Finally you come down from your high Fred’s tongue slowing. You are breathless as your eyes flutter open looking down to meet Fred’s gaze. His mouth releases your swollen bud and he drops your legs; pulling your pyjamas back up your legs.

He slowly crawls up your body, your juices dripping from his beard. He places a trail of soft kisses up your chest. Your hands release his hair sliding down to his beard pulling his face to yours. You guide his mouth to yours moaning when you taste yourself.

His tongue slides in but before you can deepen it you hear a cry over the baby monitor. You pull apart with a groan; Fred’s head turning to the screen.

“I think he’s still asleep” Fred says after a couple minutes “got a couple more minutes” he mumbles against your neck. He falls beside you pulling you into his chest while your head turns to look at him. He softly brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says softly “and more importantly seven months ago.”

“I know” your lips gently press against his.

“If something bothers you please tell me” he says and you smile lightly in response. “And if you need to talk about what happened more, bring it up. No matter what.”

“I will, promise” you smile

“No matter how uncomfortable it’s better for us to talk these things through now then let them stew inside.”

“I know” you nod against him. Fred smiles down at you and brings his lips back down to yours. You gently play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft and slow; his tongue swiping inside your mouth. When you pull away Fred’s forehead gently presses against yours.

Your hands gently play with his beard, a wide grin glued to your face. Fred crawls beside you his hand finds your stomach “any movements yet?”

“I’m only 13ish weeks babe” you laugh “that probably won’t happen for another five weeks or so.”

“I know I just love the little kicks” he places another soft kiss on your cheek when you hear another cry from the nursery.

“I got it babe” he whispers crawling out of bed. When the door closes you find your shirt knowing your time in bed will be ending soon. You hear the nursery door open on the monitor, and your gaze meets the screen. You feel your heart skip a beat watching Fred.

He pulls Noah from his crib, blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Noah’s little laugh is loud enough you can almost hear it down the hall.

He engages in a random conversation with him while changing his diaper and getting him ready for the day. Before he finishes Lucas stirs in his crib and Fred turns his attention to him repeating everything with him. After finishing he leaves the nursery and you hear his footsteps on the hardwood and the door slowly creaks open.

The twins faces light up when they see you and Fred crawls back into bed handing Noah to you. “Hi buddy” you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. The four of you lie in bed, Noah babbling away on your stomach; Fred’s arms wrapped around the two of you.

You all lie in bed, you curled up beside Fred the twins crawling over you. You and Fred fall into an easy conversation the twins cooing around you. Lucas is sitting on Fred’s chest and you laugh when Noah sits on his face. It’s an easy morning; something you didn’t get when Oliver was this young. When he was around this age you and Fred were in separate apartments. It was during the span when you weren’t sleeping together; and your interactions were sometimes awkward.

You grab Lucas from Fred’s chest and Fred grips Noah’s waist lifting him off his face. He puts him on the mattress and begins to tickle your son, his little laugh erupting. His laughter echoes off the wall getting louder; it’s so loud you almost don’t hear the door creak open. You look over and see Oliver yawning in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He slowly climbs up in bed beside you.

A large grin spread across you face watching as Fred wrestles Oliver into the bed and tickles the boys. Their laughter fills your bedroom and your heart watching your four boys. You rub your hand over your stomach smiling, knowing soon there will be another baby making your king sized bed seem even more crowded; just the way you like it.

Next Chapter

[love-fireflysong]

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

1

"I love you. I'm—"

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

9

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A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 8 (Long Story Short, It was a Tough Day)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Simón approaches the doors of the Jam and Roller. He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and selectively picks the one with the J&R emblem engraved on it. He’s surprised when he grabs the doorknob and is able to open it without unlocking it himself. He walks in cautiously. “Is anyone here?” No one answers. Everything seems to be intact. He wonders maybe Pedro forgot to lock up last night?

He keeps walking around and gets a little startled noticing a person sitting in front of the main desk in the office. He shakes his head and rubs his tired eyes. Sitting there is Ámbar, crying in her arms.

“Linda que paso? What happened?” He worriedly rushes by her side. “It’s official, no one’s buying this place. No one wants it. Vidia is planning to tear it down and sell the land on its own.” More tears begin to cover her face. This place grew to be extremely close to Ámbar’s heart. After everything that happened with Sharon, the only constant in her life was the Jam and Roller. Being able to skate help relieve her from her anxieties and at least have one moment to be alone with the world. When she got offered the position to be manager, she couldn’t be more thrilled. Putting her heart and soul into setting up events for the gang and making sure everything was in place helped her feel more in control with her life. She was able to calm down the mess that surrounded her and pick up the pieces one by one. Hearing the official news coming from their lawyers was earth shattering for her, it was too surreal.

Simón didn’t know what to do in this moment. He ‘can’ say things will get better, but he doesn’t want to give her false hope, doesn’t want to sugarcoat it. He feels that saying an advice in this instant would only make things worse so he does what he knows best, he hugs her. A quiet display of showing you’re there for that person, always.

When they hear Pedro enter the cafeteria with Delfi, Ámbar and Simón get up from their chairs and go back to work. Ámbar wipes away all the tears with her sleeve and tries to put more makeup to cover her puffy skin.

After two hours pass by, Luna enters with Nina. “Wow Luna I can’t believe he stood you up,” Nina replies. Simón overhears Nina’s comment and hurries over to Luna’s side. “Is this true? Matteo stood you up?” Luna starts trembling and tries to find the right words to say but nothing comes out of her mouth. “I-I- …... okay how do I explain this. Yes, he left me alone all night till the restaurant closed. When I was sitting on the bench in front waiting for my taxi, he arrived. He tried to explain to me that he lost track of time because Viviana was bothering him on filming more scenes for their music video. Basically, it’s all mess. This whole relationship has turned into a mess. He lied to me by not telling me he was going to be with Viviana. If he had told me, it would’ve been okay, but he didn’t, which is why I’m upset. If you lie to someone about being with another person that means you don’t want them to know, which most of the time indicates you’re hiding a secret.” Luna sighs from her mouthful of words.

“Luna, I don’t want to make it sound worse but you’re right. If he lied to you about being with Viviana, there’s a chance he’s hiding something. There’s no necessity to lie about filming with a coworker…. Unless he has feelings for that coworker. Sorry you have to go through all of this.” Simón hugs Luna and tries to console her. “Amiga, remember these are all assumptions we’re making. We don’t know the full truth so maybe he was keeping everything a secret for a reason. We are still missing parts of the story,” Nina advised. “I don’t think so Nina. I think I should just start moving on and start focusing more on me and you guys of course. Oh, that reminds me. How are those wedding plans going Simón?” Simon widely opens his eyes in shock and covers his mouth with his hand. “No no no nooooooo”

“Que paso Simón? Why are you so upset suddenly?” Luna asked.

“Ámbar and I have been so caught up with issues pertaining to the Jam and Roller that we completely forgot to prepare the wedding and plan everything out.”

Luna lays her hand on Simon’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore because I can help with whatever you guys need.” “Yeah, me too,” Nina tags along.

“Also, what issues do you guys mean when ‘pertaining to the Jam and Roller?’” Luna questions.

“You’ll find out soon, and by soon I mean around…. now.” Simón states while staring at the clock.

Ámbar leaves the office carrying a clipboard and heads to the stage of the cafeteria. “May I get everyone’s attention! I have some disappointing news to say. For a while, Simon and I have constantly tried to negotiate with Vidia, in hopes that this beautiful place stays as it should. Sadly, our wishes were not met and Vidia has officially announced that it will be tearing this place down and selling the land. Sorry to be the bearer of this awful news, I wish I didn’t have to. I wish that the Jam and Roller can stay for generations and generations on. This place has been the spot where many of us have shared experiences together and won a few competitions. It deserves to stay here, but the owners disagree.”

Everyone gasps in astonishment. Some covering their mouths, some leaving it open, some having visible tears coming out. Everyone reacts as if the place was already completely gone and become a deserted land. Eric (Jandino) enters the place. “Hey guys what did I miss?” Everyone’s red puffy faces glance towards him. “Oof tough crowd huh?” Nina is the first to respond and make the situation a little less awkward. “The Jam and Roller is going to be teared down.” Eric stays speechless and just nods in response.

“This can’t be the end of this place. Are we really going to give up so quickly? Vidia tried to sell it and we were able to convince them not to. This time could be the same,” Luna exclaims.

“This time is different though because the investors don’t need this place anymore and no one wants to buy a skating rink since it’s ‘old fashion’ and ‘not modern.’ This place was in the market for months. Simón and I hoped someone would buy it but no one did. The only way for us to even have a chance to keep it is if someone purchased this place,” Ámbar refuted.

“That shouldn’t be so bad. All we have to do is find someone who is rich and has a kind heart,” Luna proudly states. “Luna are you insane? Where we are we going to find a kind, rich person? This isn’t a cartoon where stuff magically appears out of nowhere to help and save us. Yeah, that’s right Mickey, I’m talking about you and your “musketeer named Toodles,” we all know that’s fake.” Jazmin argued in front of her tablet camera.

“You are right... well on the first part. But I have an idea, maybe I can afford it!” Luna confidently states.

Ámbar gently brings Luna’s hopes down again. “I’ve already checked how much I have in the bank from the half you gave and doubled that and it’s still not enough for the place Luna.” Luna pouts, facing the ground. “Oh... well I guess never mind then.”

Delfi comes up with an idea. “Hey what about Matteo? He is rich now from being a star and all.” She then points to the man in sunglasses who had been staring at Luna ever since he arrived. Luna didn’t realize it till now. “If that’s what you guys want, I’ll buy it. How much does it cost?” Ámbar walks to Matteo. “I’m showing you in secret, so you don’t get embarrassed with your net worth not being enough,” Ámbar explained. “Oh please, it can’t be that bad.” Ámbar show’s him the clipboard and points to the bottom. Matteo begins to sweat. “Oh…... um guys I can afford it but then I’ll be broke with no where to live.”

“Great! I guess that means the Jam and Roller is saved then! Yay!” Jazmin yells out. “Jazmin we can’t force Matteo to do such a grand gesture either,” Gaston responds. “And why not?”

“Jazmin are you really asking that question after he said he would be broke?” Gaston added. “Yes, I don’t see the problem.” Gaston shakes his head and covers his eyes with his fingers from annoyance.

“You guys, it’s hopeless,” Ámbar announces and walks away, heading straight to her office.

Nina walks over to Luna’s side. “Why aren’t you so sad Luna? I mean of course I wouldn’t want you to be sad, but I thought the news would be devastating for you since you love this place so much.”

“This place isn’t getting teared down. At least not under my watch. I will find a way to keep this place the way it is. I will just need to do some research,” Luna persists. “Luna you never seize to surprise me. Whatever help you need, I’m right here,” Nina chuckles.

Eric approaches Nina and tries to comfort her. “Yeah, I bet this must be awful news for you guys. I know I wasn’t here long enough but one thing I know for sure is that this place is certainly magical.” Gaston views Eric close with Nina and he immediately rushes over. He places his arm around Nina’s waist. “Your Corazon will really stop going wowow if you keep flirting with my girl!” “Gaston!” Nina is shocked and tries to calm him down from his jealousy burning his own skin.

“Guys I think I’m going to head home. It’s been a rough morning and I barely got any sleep,” Luna waved goodbye to the gang. Gastón gestures over to Matteo letting him know Luna is leaving. Matteo runs over to the parking lot.

“Luna wait, can you give me a second to explain everything.” Matteo calls out to her. “Matteo, you’re the person I least want to talk to right now.”

“Luna I’m sorry. I’m sorry for arriving extremely late and standing you up. I’m sorry for not replying to all your calls and messages. I’m sorry I lied about the video with Viviana. I didn’t tell you though because I was worried you would get upset and think I remotely like the girl,” Matteo confesses.

“Hah so you’ve even noticed that she’s been extremely close and has been flirting with you,” Luna attested.

“What no? It’s not like that at all. You’re just jealous.” Luna turns around and displays a furious expression, this is the moment when Matteo noticed he had chosen the wrong set of words. “Jealous? That’s what you think of me? Maybe you’re just too blinded by fame to realize she’s constantly glued to you. Haven’t you noticed that when she talks to you, she gradually grows closer and closer to you and whenever you two go out she tries to hold your arm and pull you in tight. I’ve seen all the paparazzi videos so I know. Plus, she’s always calling you. She calls you more than your own manager does,” Luna argued.

“Oh please Luna, you’re just being delusional.” Matteo hears his phone ringing. He pulls it out and notices it’s Viviana calling him. “Yet I’m the delusional one, you have just become so full of yourself you can barely even notice what’s actually going on,” Luna walks away. “Wait, Luna please don’t go.” This time she doesn’t listen to him and keeps walking away without a slight turn of her head.

Luna’s Home

Luna enters her room and throws herself in bed. It’s barely Sunday and Luna feels a whole tornado of emotions have taken over her body. She doesn’t feel like doing anything, not even taking off her socks from wearing her shoes or wiping off her light makeup. She grabs her blanket and tries to fall asleep on top of her bed.

After an hour has passed, her mom knocks on her door and gently opens it. She sees her daughter sleeping and tries to lightly pat her. Luna’s eyelashes wiggle and brush against her skin. She slowly wakes up. “I brought you some breakfast, just thought maybe you haven’t eaten and were probably hungry.” Luna happily smiles. “Mom you know me too.” Monica smiles back too and hands her a tray of waffles with strawberries. Ah strawberries. The least she needed was to be reminded of “el chico fresa.” Her smile slowly disappears and turns into a frown.

“Hija, lately I’ve been seeing you all down in the dumps. Always depressed and never wanting to do much other than sleep. Are you okay? This isn’t normally like you,” Monica sincerely concerned, looks at Luna in the eyes.

“Everything just seems to be falling apart. Not just dealing with Matteo and I’s relationship ending but also the Jam and Roller too. Apparently Vidia is planning to tear it down and the only way for us to be able to have the chance to keep the Jam and Roller intact is to purchase it but none of us can afford such a high price.”

Monica nods and tries to conjure up an idea. Eventually one crosses her mind. “Luna, I’m shocked you didn’t think of this earlier, especially since it deals with your favorite hobby in ‘el mundo mundial,’” Monica says.

“What does skating have to do with this?” Luna laughs.

“Competitions. I know there’s some competitions out there in which the grand prize is a sum of money. Why don’t you guys enter one and try to compete.” Luna lets go of her fork and soon becomes energetic. “Mom that is genius!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Luna yells out and tightly hugs her mom.

“Well you know what they say, us moms are geniuses,” Monica chuckles. Luna hastily grabs her computer and retrieves to her bed. She opens up the laptop and begins typing and searching through. “Well Luna I guess I shall leave you to it. Glad I was able to help. Love you hija.” Monica kisses Luna’s forehead and leaves. “Love you too mom!”

After searching for hours, Luna is able to find a competition in which the grand prize pays most of the Jam and Roller price tag. When calculating the percentages, Luna notices that what’s left to pay after all the costs are taken up, is affordable for the whole gang. She jumps up and down all around her bedroom with content pouring out of her. The Jam and Roller finally has a chance to stay. Maybe things can even go back to old times when they all skated together.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

I blame no one but myself

Since I saw @little-lightning-lavellan​ create THIS I had to do it for Fane. You have a glorious mind, just so you know! I had to do this, and as a result, I splurged. Holy fuck. Strap yourself in folks!

***

You have selected _____ to join your party! Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀)

(yes, I will always use this picture until the day I die. Fight me.)

Fane Lavellan (born 9:17 Dragon) is a Dalish warrior and hunter from Clan Lavellan, but abandoned the clan at the age of 20. He feels no kinship with his own clan or the Dalish as a whole. He is a volatile young man that is prone to bouts of rage, but also indifference, swapping between the two at any given moment. However, he shows an astounding sensibility with keen observational skills and a plethora of worldly knowledge that many would not assume a mere Dalish warrior to have. 

Inquisition scouts report that he was along the fringes of the hills surrounding the Conclave several hours before the blast, seemingly observing the gathering of the mages and templars with levels of confusion and intrigue, but was within the village itself when the initial explosion occurred, thus he was brought in as a potential suspect and questioned as to his reasons for being there. Fane stated he was ‘just watching’ and left it at that, so the Inquisition decided to keep him close so they themselves could ‘just watch’. (If playing the Mhairi World State then his reason for being in Haven is as a bodyguard for his sister, and stays with them for her sake alone. He does not leave Clan Lavellan in this world state.) 

Fane is a starting companion (appears at the first initial rift with Solas and Varric) and is a romance option for either a female or male elf or human. The initiation of the romance is, however, based on the approval scale. You must be at a certain percentage upon the initiation scene, otherwise, the flag will be unavailable (Dalish Inquisitors start with infinitely lower approval than human, dwarf, or Qunari Inquisitors). If playing the Mhairi World State then romance option is voided, and a background relationship like Dorian and the Iron Bull will be initiated with Solas through banter hints during the game. The background relationship applies for other world states, and for low approval, or if the Inquisitor does not romance Solas.

His primary abilities upon recruitment are centered around two-handed and DPS, but can be  respecced after the first seal attempt. Fane’s specialized Ability Tree is akin to the Reaver Ability tree, and unlocks along with other companions’ Ability trees after Haven. However, he has two personalized activated skills named Emotional Baggage and Leashed, But By Choice. 

Emotional Baggage is a support, sustained AOE ability that Fane can activate to use the emotional duress of an enemy (i.e. status effects such as panic or weakened.) to augment his, the Inquisitor’s, or other companion’s abilities and basic attacks. This ability eats away at his stamina however and when depleted, Fane is unable to use any of his other abilities for a short period of time, and his basic attacks and general movement is impaired. 

Leashed, But By Choice is an ability exclusively tailored to support either Solas or the Inquisitor (if high approval or within the Mhairi World State). When within the appropriate radius of either one, Fane can ‘tether’ himself to Solas or the Inquisitor to bolster their strength by feeding his emotions through the link established. Any debilitating effects upon Solas or the Inquisitor is transferred to him and redistributed back through with fiery purpose. (status effects stack until stamina pool is depleted) If Fane’s stamina pool is completely depleted when the tether is still established, he will begin to take high amounts of spirit damage due to all debuffs circling back to him until he disconnects himself, or Solas or the Inquisitor cease any basic or activated attacks. (If friendly fire is toggled on, Solas or the Inquisitor can direct an attack towards Fane to forcibly remove the link if he is unable to).

Fane’s focused ability is circumstance dependent, meaning it is only activated if Solas has fallen or is at critical health. (If playing the Mhairi World State, it will be available if Mhairi falls or is critically injured, as well.) It is listed with the name Shattered Vow and is along the lines of the base focus ability Berserk. However, Shattered Vow greatly amplifies abilities such as Dragon Rage and Devour, and has no cooldown times on either, but at the cost of extra amounts of health when used. Stamina rate of depletion is exceptionally lowered during the duration of the ability, but upon focus depletion, or if Solas or Mhairi is revived or healed, Fane will immediately collapse and be incapacitated for the rest of the fight. (Revival, potions with Lifeward, or if Healing Grenade is upgraded with Revival will not work to recall Fane.)

Combat Comments

Kills an enemy

(scoffs) Disgusting.

I’m sick of you! *if enemy downed is a mage*

(snarls) Don’t touch me! 

Kills an enemy (after Haven)

(tired sigh) Will it ever end?

So much red..

I wasn’t made for this..

Low Health

(growls) Permission granted to heal!

Suledin.. S..Suledin.. Vir enasalin.. 

I..I have to..keep going..

Low Health (Companions)

(the Inquisitor) Stop attacking! Focus on the Inquisitor! He/She is injured!

(the Inquisitor - if Dalish) Will pride be your downfall, too?! Someone help the Inquisitor!

(the Inquisitor - Mhairi World State) Help, Mhairi! NOW!!

(Solas) Solas! You damned fool! Fall back!

(Varric) Varric! Archers in the back, warriors on the front! Get it?!

(Cole) Cole! Easy, damn you!

Fallen Companions

(the Inquisitor) - If you fall, we all fall! Get. UP!

(the Inquisitor - if Dalish) I thought you would never submit?! 

(the Inquisitor - Mhairi World State) My, no! (voice cracks) NO! Open your eyes! OPEN THEM!!

(Solas) Solas! (snarls angrily) I swear if you’re not breathing when I get to you, I’ll--I’ll--! 

(Solas - if romanced by Fane) No..NO! (choked up) We made a vow, Solas! It can’t shatter again! I need you!

(Iron Bull) I’m large, but you’re larger, you oaf! Get up!

(Cole) Cole, no! You still have so much to see, to observe! Come on!

(Varric) I don’t fancy having Hawke’s hands on my throat, dwarf! 

(Cassandra) The Seeker’s down? (snarls) Fuck me!

Location Comments

If within radius of any Elvhen artifact 

Fane: I’m..going to stay out here.

Inquisitor: Is everything all right? What’s wrong?

Fane: Nothing. It’s just more practical for someone to stay outside in case of trouble. Go on.

If within radius of any Elvehn artifact and Solas is in the party (primarily after Haven)

Solas: There is an elven artifact nearby.

Fane: (sighs) Of course there is.

Solas: Ir abelas. We shall be quick.

Fane: Go on, then. I’ll be here. 

Exalted Plains

The land is burnt to ash here. How typical.

The sky is...grey. (sighs) I want to leave already.

(Within Halin’sulahn) 

Fane: Could we have built a life here? Harmonious with them and free? Without a yoke to bind us, a noose to threaten us?

Inquisitor: With humans, you mean?

Fane: Huh? Hum--? (clears throat) Yeah. Yeah..

(when reading one of the plaques depicting the Exalted March)

(growls) The world would be better off without religion. (scoffs) Zealots, all of them.

(Approaching the Dalish camp)

Inquisitor: Huh. Look. It’s the Dalish encampment.

Fane: Traipsing about a battlefield? (scoffs) Idiots. I feel bad for the halla.

Emprise du Lion

(takes a deep breath) Ahh, feel that? That’s cold. (chuckles) Just how I like it.

I need to shed a layer...or five. How can you all stand so much fur? Ugh. 

Watch for falling snow from the branches. It’ll crush you as surely as any boulder would.

(near red lyrium) 

This stuff needs to know the perpetuity of black. Destroy it already.

My head is pounding. (growls) Can we get moving? Tsk.

(after walking across Judicael’s Crossing)

Fane: I hear them..

Cole: They’re confused, crazed, chained. They want to correct it, but it’s too much..

Fane: ...Let’s go.

Temple of Mythal

 (entering the temple)

Guess the elves learned how to cherish some things. Don’t let that be in vain.

(after meeting Abelas - didn’t attack)

Fane: I wonder if they know..

Solas: They do.

Fane: Hmph. That’s...good, I guess.

Companion Comments about Fane

Varric: Tempest? (laughs) He’s a handful, but he’s not so bad once you get past it. Elf can drink, too! The other night, half the soldiers were knocked out cold and he was still wide awake!

Blackwall: Have you ever played Diamondback with Solas and Fane at the same time? Don’t. My coin purse is still recovering from that duo. 

Sera: Grumpy? (cackles) I put a rat in his bed roll the other day and I friggin’ swear his hair turned as red as his face after the screech he let out! ...I had to hide out in the kitchens all day, though. 

Cole: His eyes hold dueling duality. He wonders when the battle will end.

Cole (if Fane is romanced with the Inquisitor): He doesn’t know which side he wants, but observing you gives him hope. He feels safe with you.

Solas (not romanced with Fane): Fane has been through a lot, Inquisitor, but his words do not wholly define him. Observe him as he observes all of us, and you will see that.

Solas (if romanced with Fane): (chuckles) Ma’isenatha? He is special, Inquisitor. In more ways than you realize. (more quietly) ...He is more important than you realize.

Iron Bull: He gives me a wide berth for some reason, but he’s one hell of a fighter! (hums) Sort of unhinged though. Like he doesn’t know he’s even moving in for the kill. Kind of worrisome, if you ask me.

Dorian: Fane? (chuckles) Have you ever heard him speak when he thinks no one’s listening? That man is a walking poetry book! Caught him reciting one to himself one time and when I asked about it, he turned beet red! I swear the man’s eyes changed colors from that alone!

Leliana (if not playing the Mhairi World State): I don’t know much about him, or rather, I cannot find much about him. For a large man with very unique features, he remains shadowed. ...And he seems to want it that way.

Leliana (if Inquisitor is Dalish): I attempted to contact your clan after Haven to gather information, but...all inquiries were met with refusal or deflection. You yourself mentioned you had never interacted with him, yes? I believe there is more going on than Fane wishes to admit.

Leliana (if playing the Mhairi World State): Your brother is highly observational and subtle for a man so large. He had taken one of my investigations as his own, and brought back amazing amounts of intel that uncovered a ring of mages attempting to repeat the same dragon control from the Grand Cathedral. ...Would you be adverse to me making him an agent?

Trespasser

No matter the romance or world state, Fane becomes unavailable at the end of Inquisition. If romanced, however, he will leave the Inquisitor a letter stating that he’s sorry, but he can’t continue to ignore what is needed for what he wants. If playing the Mhairi World State, he also leaves a letter, but the message is attached with the favor Mhairi had given him when he turned twenty-one; a velvet sash. After various attempts of locating Fane and turning up no leads, he is presumed out of bounds of Thedas or dead.

During Trespasser, upon the final eluvian that ultimately leads to Solas,  the Inquisitor will be stopped by a dragon masked warrior, who is also blocking the Viddasala from entering the mirror. Even when questioned, the warrior doesn’t speak and ultimately moves to the side to allow passage, but not before finally saying, in fluent Elvhen: ‘Your wings are clipped, and only stone awaits you.’

When the Inquisitor speaks to Solas, he will explain that Fane is not dead or missing, and is actively within the Crossroads as they speak. Any circumstance will yield questions from the Inquisitor as to Fane’s exact whereabouts, and Solas with state, with a saddened smile, ‘He saw you when you came in, but you did not do the same courtesy. Such is the way the world views his kind.’ If the Inquisitor made an effort to learn the history of the elves, their downfall, and Solas’s own identity, then he will explain exactly what Fane is and who he is to Solas himself. If not, then Solas will say to find Fane themselves to learn the complete truth and will only explain his own side. 

In the Epilogue, it is made known that the warrior the Inquisitor passed in the Crossroads was Fane, after Leliana’s agents reports sightings of a large male along the fringes of Tevinter, wearing the same armor, but without the mask attached. It is later revealed that Fane is working as one of the Agents of Fen’harel, but mainly as Solas’s second in command.  

Trivia

Fane has an unhealthy obsession with anything sweet. He often gets stomach aches.

He is demisexual, thus why his romance is based upon the approval scale.

Fane is the only companion that cannot have armor crafted for. He will equip himself as levels dictate.

His area within Skyhold is situated in three places: The third floor in the tavern with Cole, leaning on the crates in the rookery, and most frequently, reclining on the couch in the rotunda, reading.  Sometimes banter will trigger between him, Solas, Cole, and Leliana. During Haven, Fane can be found along the edges of the training yard or along one of the broken docks.

His idle animation has him scanning the sky with his arms crossed, or clenching and unclenching his fists.

He enjoys the scent and look of Gladiolus. 

If not playing the Mhairi World State, Fane is revealed to have no family beyond his deceased mother and missing father, the latter he speaks of with great disgust and loathing, however.

There is a DLC called Emerald Eyes Amidst Golden Vows that doubles as Fane’s personal quest which reveals towards dragons having a greater influence beyond the Old Gods. It hints towards Fane’s identity, as well, but it is not resolved until Trespasser.

Fane can speak and write in fluent Elvhen, but refuses to unless pressed.

Fane’s Reaver ability Dragon’s Rage is a silvery blue color rather than crimson. Upon activation of Shattered Vow, however, the blue is mixed with red.

It is revealed in Trespasser that Fane was able to ‘tether’ with the Inquisitor due to the mark, since it is Solas’s magic. 

He is secretly claustrophobic. This is revealed in The Descent DLC, if taken.

He personally tests every strange bottle of liquor the Inquisitor finds in the wilds.

The Mhairi World State is an origin preset for Fane to personalize the player’s experience with him through special dialogue and unique buffs.

Fane’s ‘climax’ romance scene reveals the abuse he underwent as a child from his father. His scars are exposed for the Inquisitor to see, then.

Refers to Solas as ‘my sky’, if in a romantic relationship. If involved with the Inquisitor, he will call them, ‘my wings’.

***

Yeah, I got carried away. I had to stop myself because I think about this a lot since Fane was not originally my canon Inquisitor. Not entirely canon compliant, but you all know me, I recognize canon, but I don’t chain myself to it. XD

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

April has begun, a new month, a new start.

To celebrate the First of April, I've decided to embark on a new project. Some might say it's a little Foolish when I have so much else to do, but it must be done:

Fate: the Re-Winxed Saga!

We'll be starting off with a fixing of the reason Bloom ran away from home. I don't know about anyone else, but I always found it jarring how Bloom essentially had two sets of parents played by the same actors.

One pair were abusive a$$hats, on of whom thought their daughter was a freak, the other was basically a doormat with no opinions of their own, meanwhile the other couple were loving and “always knew she was meant for bigger things”.

So I've changed the reason behind Bloom's house burned down, and restored her artistic talents to her. There's nothing wrong with liking repairing old lamps, but we saw it once to point out how much of a “weirdo” she was, and then it was gone.

I've also added in a bit to explain how Farah found her, while maintaining Stella's OG presence in the scene.

I know there's a prequel book out (soon?) now that's supposed to fill in that blank, but I've just gone ahead with it.

Warnings for minor implications of sexual assault that never actually happened.

Here we go:

Fire\Starter

Bloom's sleep was fitful. 

She felt hot in her dreams, flushed with embarrassment and rage as Mitzy's obnoxious laugh played on infinite repeat. The condemning looks from her peers, from strangers on the street, plagued her like a thousand daggers.

In the waking world Bloom's body kicked back her sheets and writhed like she was fighting off an attacker.

In her dreams Bloom saw the sweetly deceitful face of Mitzy's cousin.

Bloom was an artist, she'd been drawing since she'd been young. Her art had won some competitions, small and local, but so important to her.

Important enough that her parents had bought her a graphics tablet for her birthday when all the other kids her age were getting bikes. It was the most expensive gift they'd ever gotten her.

She'd used it frequently, making digital art now alongside the more traditional paintings and sketches. She'd gotten good enough to be asked and paid for commissions.

And that's how Mitzy had managed to sneak her cousin in, to set a trap.

Moira had commissioned Bloom to make a 'tasteful nude' in 'that old European style, you know the one?' and Bloom hadn't thought anything of it. She'd let Moira into her home, into the converted solar-turned-art studio she'd been using for almost a full year now and...

Bloom had spent every day since cursing herself for not noticing the similarities. Moira and Mitzy looked so alike when you saw them together, Bloom didn't know how she'd missed it.

Maybe it was because Moira had smiled kindly, hidden her smirk and contempt better than Mitzy ever had.

Bloom had only touched Moira once, a gentle arm on the elbow to steady her while Moira was in her under garments, but the way she'd spun that into lies of assault...

Bloom could see it perfectly in her head, Moira laying casually on the couch of Bloom's studio, skin mostly bare and a sweet smile on her face.

In her dreams it warped into a smirk, lips cracking apart until Mitzy's laugh rolled out of the gaping maw. In her dreams, Bloom set Moira on fire.

Her rage, pure and true becomes an unstoppable flame, so hot it melts the walls, melts her tormentors skin. In the dream Bloom screams her rage and the world is consumed and-

-Bloom wakes, choking. She rolls to the side and tumbles from the sweat soaked mattress to the warm wooden floors of her room. Her gasping breaths drag the scent of smoke and paint into her lungs, but she ignores the remnants of her dream and tries to calm herself.

The scent doesn't fade.

It gets stronger.

Somewhere below her on the ground floor, glasses shatter and Bloom hears a familiar whoof. She'd heard it in her father’s educational videos on fire.

Her studio is on fire.

Her house is on fire!

“MUM! DAD!” Bloom screams as loud as she can, trying to remember what she's supposed to do. She tears her pillow case off her pillow, scrambles to put her laptop, graphics tablets and her three recharge cords into it before pulling her sheet free and wrapping it around herself.

She grabs her phone on the way out.

“MUM! DAD!”

Bloom makes her way to their room down the hall, the smoke in the air thickening.

“FIRE!!”

Her parents meet her at the door, their own sheet wrapped around them both to help filter the smoke, they have a few things as well.

Together they crouch down low and make their way down stairs, Bloom's father, Mike, already on his cell phone calling for the Fire Brigade.

They're almost free and clear when her mother, Vanessa, tries to head for the family office.

Bloom calls “mum, no!” at the same time her dad says “'Nessa stop!”  

But Vanessa darts away, just past the office door to grab a single box and out again, away from the spread of the fire.

Bloom feels a flicker of relief for half a second before something in the house explodes, letting out a torrent of flame in her mother's direction.

Bloom screams and flings out her hand as if she could do anything to stop what's about to happen.

For a heartbeat Bloom feels something well up inside her, something dark and powerful, and the wave of fire splits around her mother.

The trio stand, stunned, until Mike comes to his senses, “'Nessa, move!”

And they bolt to the door together, out onto the small lawn in time to see the lights of the fire trucks round the corner.  

-

In the days to come, they will recover the items which remain, few as they are. Bloom's childhood book of fairy stories was somehow untouched by the flames.

Mitzy will spread a new rumour about Bloom as part of her campaign to ruin Bloom's life, saying Bloom started the fire.

The investigation will rule it an accident, suspected faulty wiring in the art studio.

But Bloom knows, with an awful certainty: Mitzy was right for once, Bloom had started the fire somehow. She knows her parents suspect it too, but they won't say anything, not even about how Bloom had made the wave of fire part.

There's an elephant in the room now, it hovers awkwardly about their family, makes every conversation feel like trying to walk through broken glass in the dark without stepping on any.

Bloom tries not to go to sleep. She only makes it a few days before she finds herself constantly drifting off. Her parents watch her with fear, telling her to sleep.

But she can't, don't they understand that? What if she starts another fire?

She leaves their motel room, takes her phone and uses some of the money she earned from her art to by a sleeping bag and some snacks. Searches the internet for a place to stay with no people and as little flammable material as possible.

She finds an old warehouse that will do the trick. She buys a small fire extinguisher on her way there.

-

Her phone tells her she's slept for two days when she wakes up with a horrific dehydration headache.

She feels a little better for the sleep, she hasn't burned down the world while unconscious. There's a public showering area in a pool several blocks away, she manages to sneak in and get clean.

Begins to feel almost human again.

-

Bloom falls into a routine, sleeping in the warehouse, showering in the public washrooms, reading everything she can find on what the internet calls 'pyrokinesis'. The scientific side, or the fringe-science side of things feels wrong somehow.

She can't explain it, but something in her knows that's not the path she's looking for.

She tries folklore and myths instead. Feels pulled towards the stories of fae and dragons.

There's an abandoned quarry not far from town, and Bloom manages to make her way there with some candles, matches and her thankfully unused fire extinguisher.

She can't conjure fire, can't put it out, can't even provoke it. She's missing something, she knows, she can feel it.

Bloom comes across some 'majick' on one of the websites she finds looking for answers. A way to call a fae and force them to answer any questions you have. Bloom scoffs but takes a screenshot before backing out to another page.

Several days later she makes the mistake of looking at social media.

She's officially a runaway at this point, and Mitzy has used her absence to establish Bloom's guilt.

“Bloom burned her house down to fake her death to avoid facing charges of assault,” is the going theory.

It makes Bloom mad enough to set her sleeping bag on fire.

The following morning she buys a new one, and some things from the list of 'spell' ingredients. She's making no progress on her own, she's desperate.

Bloom returns to the quarry, she doesn't want the smell of incense in the warehouse, just in case. She fills a small bowl with water and a piece of quartz, waits for the moon to rise over head and does her best to match the google-translate’s reading of the 'some magical European language' the spell requires.

For a moment she sits, feeling like a fool, her eyes closed. Then she feels like she's falling.

Or flying?

There's a wind but it's intangible, a forest but it's colours are vibrant in a way Bloom's never seen, like they're leaking energy.

And then there's a tug, like someone has pulled her up short, and a woman with soft, pale brown hair and kind but curious eyes.

The woman opens her mouth but Bloom jerks back in shock, and startles so hard her leg flies out to knock over the bowl, spilling the water everywhere.

Bloom stays there for several long minutes, panting like she'd run a marathon, but then a real wind blows and her damp jeans go cold against her skin. She packs everything up and runs back to the almost safety of her warehouse.

-

Bloom is awoken by the sound of the warehouse door opening and closing. She's confused for a moment before the sound of two sets of footsteps has her scrambling upright, and out of her sleeping bag.

It's the woman from Bloom's... spell? Vision?

She smiles at Bloom, and Bloom feels herself relax.

“Hello, I'm Farah Dowling,” she gestures to herself. Behind Farah, a young woman, blonde and roughly to same age and nervousness level as Bloom, clears her throat slightly, so Farah Dowling adds: “And this is Stella,” Stella waves, “we're here to help you, if you'll let us?”

Bloom knows better than to trust strangers, but this woman had been in her vision.

“You can help me?” Bloom asks, her voice sounding far smaller and unused than she was expecting.

“I'd certainly like to try,” Farah says kindly, her hand reaching out to Bloom, letting Bloom make the choice.

Bloom gathers her things and takes Farah Dowling's hand, Farah squeezes it gently, it's comforting. Bloom sobs as she realises this is the first real human contact she's had in... weeks now.

“Come on,” Farah and Stella return to the warehouse door, “Stella, if you could?”

“Yes Miss Dowling,” Stella gives Bloom a quick eyebrow wiggle, like she's about to show off, and places her hand on the door.

'She has nice hands,' Bloom thinks distantly as the large sunburst ring on Stella's finger glows golden, the light spreading out to coat the door and it's frame.

When Stella opens it, the door no longer leads outside the warehouse, but out into a verdant forest. Bloom can smell the leaf litter, there's the smell of moisture, like there's rain about to fall.

Stella steps through into the forest, holding the door open for Farah and Bloom to follow.

“Welcome to Avalon,” Stella says as she sweeps out an arm to indicate the trees around her, “home of Alfea school for Heroics and Fairies.”

“Fairies?” Bloom can feel herself smiling, excitement building. Her parents had always affectionately despaired at her life long obsession with the mythological creatures.

...her parents...

Bloom wavered.

“Can, can I just have a moment to text my parents?” Bloom looks between the two... women? Fairies? She's afraid that any second this will turn out to be a dream, or worse, real and she'll somehow throw away her chance.

“Of course,” Farah says, her voice full of understanding, “take all the time you need.”

“As long as you only need ten minutes,” Stella cuts in, “because that's how much longer I can hold this doorway open.”

Farah gives Stella a fond but exasperated look.

Bloom shakes her head, “I only need two minutes, tops.” She pulls out her phone, spends thirty seconds undoing the call blocker and sends her text before reinstalling the blocker, too scared to hear her parents reply.

What if it was “stay gone”?

“I'm ready,” Bloom says, and Farah ushers her through into Avalon.

-

[I'm OK. Sorting some things out. I Love You Both.]

Mike and Vanessa almost collapse in relief, their baby girl is alright. They tell the police to stop actively looking for Bloom, but to keep an eye out, and to tell her they miss her if she's seen.

The pray she'll come home on her own.

[spidernerdsblog]

I forgot that you existed: Chapter Three

A/N : Chapter three is here. It’s a little bit longer than the previous chapters got a little carried away. Things are getting little steamy between our ex lovers. In this chapter I have incorporated some other songs felt it will go with the situation the songs go side by side with the scenes as you read. Hope you like it. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary: It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realize you are still not done with each other.

Warnings: mild cursing

Mini playlist: It’s nice to have a friend by Taylor Swift, Physical by Dua Lipa, Into you by Ariana Grande

In the evening a barbeque was arranged. All were enjoying chatting, eating and drinking. You occasionally glanced towards Tom and El all cuddled up. When suddenly Paddy called you

“Hey Y/N it’s been so many years didn’t hear you sing”

“Then how are my albums selling if I’m not singing Pads” you joked giving a surprised look

“I meant up close live like you used to do”

“Yes Y/N please sing something I always wanted to go to your concerts but never got the opportunity” El insisted

“But I don’t have my guitar or any kind of instruments”

“That’s not a problem we have your old guitar wait a minute let me get that” Ed got up to bring it.

“You still have that?”

“yeah Tom insisted to keep it here” Harrison said.Tom and you looked at each other.

“Okay this song is totally dedicated to you guys and please no posting in your social media accounts because this will be in my next album too, the music company will kill me.” You joked. You tuned in the guitar and started playing

School bell rings, walk me home Sidewalk chalk covered in snow Lost my gloves, you give me one "Wanna hang out?" Yeah, sounds like fun Video games, you pass me a note Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

Zendaya leaned her head on your shoulder you smiled at her.

Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew Twenty questions, we tell the truth You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too Something gave you the nerve To touch my hand

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

Harrison got up from his seat and grabbed your shoulder from the back giving you a hug as you sang.

Church bells ring, carry me home Rice on the ground looks like snow Call my bluff, call you "babe" Have my back, yeah, everyday Feels like home, stay in bed The whole weekend

It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh) It's nice to have a friend (Ooh)

It was an emotional moment for all of you as everyone gathered around you for a giant hug though Tom kept his distance.

“Okay enough of tears. Tomorrow is going to be a fun day because its beach day.” Harrison announced. Everyone cheered.

“So better we all get a goodnight’s sleep”

 You were a late riser when you are on a holiday so when you woke up Zendaya was already dressed for the beach day

“Good morning sleeping beauty”

 “Morning” you mumbled

 “So excited for today?”

 “Totally!!”

 “Then get your ass out of the bed and freshen up”

 “Yeah” you rubbed your eyes

 “I'm going downstairs to check what others are  upto don't fall asleep in the bathroom.”

“Okay”

 You got up and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth and then have a shower . The cool water relieved your muscles instantly .

 Paddy, Jacob and Ed were busy setting up the table. Harry and Chloe were helping Sam in the kitchen.

“What's up boys?”

 “Breakfast is almost ready”, Sam said, tossing the ingredients in the fry pan.

 “The food looks so delicious gotta take a picture will make a perfect story. Oh shit I forgot my phone.”

 Tom was coming down the stairs as Zendaya stopped him.

“Hey Tom can you please go and tell Y/N to bring my phone with her when she comes downstairs.?”

Tom hesitated to go but eventually agreed .. "yeah okay"

You came out of the bathroom all fresh a towel wrapped around your body. As you started humming a song and drying your hair with a blow dryer.

Tom stood in front of your room. He really had a bad habit of not knocking before coming into your room since childhood so out of habit he just opened the door.

 As the door flung open. You shrieked, clutching your towel tightly.

“Oh my god!!! What the fuck Tom!!!”

 Tom couldn't help but stare at you in a towel hair all wet, beads of water dripping down the ends. Your smooth skin glowing in the sunlight coming from the windows giving you an ethereal look.

 “Stop staring you creep and close the fucking door!!!” You yelled again.

Tom was startled as he closed the door behind him.

 “Seriously” you huffed “I said to close the door and leave not to come inside you idiot!!”

 “It's in a way your fault why didn't you lock the door?” Tom quipped back

 “What!! After all these years you couldn't learn the basic manner of knocking the door before entering someone's room. And it's my fault?”

 “Okay I'm sorry calm down I just came to convey Z's message she said you to bring her phone as she forgot to take it with her that's all.”

“The message has been received and now you may leave I have gotta get dressed”

 Something went across Tom's mind as he gave you a mischievous look "what if I don't?"

 ‘What do you mean?” You were confused

 “I meant this isn't the first time I have seen you like this, actually seen more than that.” He winked.”Then why so shy to change infront of me now?”

 You narrowed your eyes," you think this is funny Holland?"

 “Whatever you think princess.” he grinned

 Tom was testing your patience but you weren't the one to give up so easily . So you decided to play along with his dangerous game.

 "You know what I actually don't mind either ." you smirked. "But I don't think El would be quite pleased to see her would be husband with his ex just in a towel."

 You started walking towards him with a sultry look in your eyes, your hand grabbed the tucked end of the towel as you motioned to remove it from your body. Tom was stunned by your answer little did he expect you would say that. Inappropriate thoughts started to hover in his mind but half of his mind reminded him it is wrong he's engaged to El and he can't break her trust. Tom shut his eyes and turned his back towards you as he opened the door and left closing it behind . You shook your head and laughed at how flustered he looked. You quickly got ready putting on your shorts and an off shoulder crop top.

 You came downstairs, breakfast was already served. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and toast instantly made you hungry. There were freshly baked muffins too.

 “Here you go rock star.” Chloe handed you your plate of food.

 “Thanks darlo” you cooed

 You bite into your muffin as you get lost in its flavors.

"mmmmph.. I think I had a foodgasm" you giggled as others also started laughing.

“How do you cook so tasty food Sam? it's too good. I missed this so much”

 “Glad you liked it Y/N”

 You went to pick up another piece of muffin from the plate on the table as you were interrupted by another hand. It was Tom. You looked at him.

"Umm.. ladies first" He said moving his hand.

 You took your piece and went to chat with others.

Tom's eyes followed you thinking of how unbothered you were after the little stunt that you pulled off a while ago.

 “Yo man where are you lost at” Jacob broke his train of thoughts

 “Nothing bro” tom shook his head

 “Where's El?”

 “Oh she's getting ready will be down in a minute.”

 ..................................

Finally you were all on the beach. The weather was perfect and you can't wait to go surfing after so many years. You spread your towel on the chair and put your bag on it. You grab your sunscreen lotion and apply it to your exposed areas. As you heard El calling sweetly. She looked gorgeous in bikini top and a sharong.

“Tommy can you please help me apply the lotion on my back.”

“Sure darling.” Tom took the lotion and started applying it to her back.

You kept looking as you smiled, eyes furrowed.

 "Typical" you heard Zendaya saying and looked at her as she rolled her eyes.

 "I find it cute though" you winked as both of you started giggling.

Tom looked at both of you scrunching his face as he understood why you both were laughing.

 You then spoke loudly to grab everyone's attention "are we going for surfing or not because the water will not come to us we have to go to the water! Or are we here just to apply sunscreen and get tanned" you gave a side look, that was enough to get on Tom's nerve, your revenge taken for the morning fiasco.

 Zendaya gaped at you with a smile. "You are such a bitch" she lightly punches your arm giggling.

 “Wasn't that the plan?” You raised your brow

 “Don't get so cranky grandma we are going for surfing. Let me get the surf boards first” Harrison said.

 “Do it fast.”

“Hey El you’re not coming?”

“Oh no I can’t surf”

“Tom can teach you, can’t you Tom?”

“Oh no it’s ok we have come to enjoy don’t want him to give surfing lessons instead of enjoying I can learn afterwards as he’s going to be there for me forever”

“You are really a sweet girl El I really like you. Tom is really lucky to have you”

“Thanks” she giggled shyly as she hold on to Tom’s hands.

 You felt really good surfing after a long time. You made Harry click some good Instagramable pictures of yours while surfing. You were all wet when you came on the shore, clothes sticking to your body. You raised your hands above your head and stretched your body. When you heard someone say

“Nice tattoo”

You looked at the man with flowy dark brown hair and indigo eyes. He was tall with a broad chest and well defined abs . You glanced at your tattoo on the left side of your hip and then looked at him

 "Umm thanks" you furrowed your eyes smiling.

 “Solo trip?”

 "Oh no with my mates they are over there" you pointed towards your group.

 “ Oh great!! By the way I'm Steve.. Steve Johnson  and I know who you are. Big fan of your works.”

“Thank you” you smiled shyly

 “I really like your tattoo”

 “You like my tattoo or is there something else you like ?” You narrowed your eyes grinning.

 "Yeah I like you too by the way" he scratched his head giving a goofy smile looking down his feet then to you.

 You shook your head and laughed

 “But still what is the meaning behind it?”

 "Nothing special. I just liked the design and I had a scar over there so I had to cover it up." That wasn't the actual story behind it and you knew it very well.

 Tom was with El listening to her chatter but all his attention was in your conversation with Steve. And he knew that the tattoo on your hip was there for a special reason not for any mere scar.

 Happy first anniversary to us. You clinked your champagne glasses together. It's been one year since Tom proposed you to be his girlfriend. Tom had decided to have a candlelight dinner with you at his house. He had cooked your favorite dishes. After dinner you both sat down on the all couch cuddled up to binge watch star wars movies.

“Y/N?”

 “Hmmm”

 “Please never leave me even if I am being an asshole to you sometimes. Please don't ever leave me”

“I'll always be there for you dummy.” You messed his hair. “Besides who else will tolerate your tantrums other than me.”

“Pinky promise?”

 You giggled “yes pinky promise.” You both hold on to your pinkies.

“You know what I'm thinking to get a tattoo”

“Don't get under your foot it really hurts” Tom chuckled.

 And the next day you were in a tattoo parlor as you went through the catalog and found the exact design you wanted.

You couldn't wait to show it to Tom as you reached his house you just ran inside as you saw him in the kitchen you went and hugged him from back and gave a kiss on his cheek. “I have a surprise for you”

He turned around the kitchen island to face you.You lifted your top to reveal your hip. You had got a tattoo of two hands pinkies intertwined as a reminder to your yesterday's promise of not leaving each other.

The promise you made was already broken. And maybe the heartbreak you had was a scar for you. 

“Okay then you enjoy your day I gotta go find my friends.See you around.”

 “Yeah sure.” You gave a smile

As he left Z, Chloe and El huddled around you

“Oh my god Y/N who was that hot guy?” Z asked excitedly

 “Umm his name is Steve and he likes my tattoo.” You giggled.

 “It's barely our second day here and you got someone to get laid way to go girl” Chloe lightly punched your arm

 “Oh shut up I barely know him” Harrison called you all to say something. Z, El, Chloe went towards him. As you were about to go you heard Tom

“So you finally found someone who can apply sunscreen on you too”

“What!? Oh come on we weren’t making fun of you, we just didn't think you were such a hopeless romantic type of guy”

 “When you are with the right person it feels good to be a hopeless romantic. Like take it for yourself you were always a fun type not marriage or romancing type”

 “So you're admitting that I was fun, glad to hear that.” You winked.

“Hey Y/N come on lets play volleyball”

“Yeah coming!! Haz”

“So what are teams?”

“It's me vs you. 

“Fine by me.Gonna kick your ass like always.”    

“Don’t get so overconfident darling I have upped my skills. Okay let's toss  whoever wins will get to choose first their team members.” 

“I’m gonna be the referee” El announced.

Harrison won the toss he chose Ed, Jacob, Tuwaine, Chloe, Harry

You had hoped Haz took Tom in his team but damn you Haz ,so you had Z, Paddy, Tom, Sam in your team

“Hey we are short of one player” you complained

You saw Steve coming from the other side with his friends. Zendaya elbowed you

“Babe it's your chance go and ask him out” You giggled and immediately ran towards Steve

“Hey hi”

“Hi again beautiful”

You hesitated a bit “Umm do you wanna? do you mind if I ask you to join us? We are playing volleyball and I'm short of one player.”

 “Of Course love, it will be my utmost pleasure.”

 You both came back and took your positions at the back. The game started and you were impressed by Steve's skills. He was really good at the game.

“Didn't think you would turn out be such a player.”

“I can be more than that love if you want.” He winked.

You blushed profusely “for now I just want to beat my best friend's ass in the game”

“As you wish mam”

Tom was standing in the front and he could hear all of your conversations. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't feeling jealous.

Both the teams were on tie the last round was do or die for you.

You went to serve the ball but accidentally it slipped and it went and hit at the back of Tom's head. You gave a panicked look while others started laughing.

“I'm really sorry Tom the ball slipped from my hand” you also started giggling.

“But I think you did that intentionally Y/N” Tom said angrily

 “What do you think I don't understand why you are acting to be so nice”

“What are you saying Tom I don't understand I already said that I'm sorry it was totally an accident?”

“Are you sorry? You just can’t tolerate that after so many years finally I’m happy with someone”

“Yo Tom calm down” Jacob said

 “Yes Tom stop overreacting!” Chloe yelled

“Tell your friend to stop acting to be so nice!!”

“Hey man you are unnecessarily making a big deal out of it” Steve came in your defense.

“You please stay out of this. Its between us”.

“Tom you can’t speak to Steve like this”

“Oh now I get it all this to grab his attention. You are wasting your time on her dude take my advice leave her she anyways will leave you after she gets whatever she wants from you”.

Your blood was boiling at Tom’s words. El was totally confused at the whole scene she wasn't getting why Tom was reacting like that, your temper rising as you noticed her and abruptly spoke

“Hey El I know you are totally confused at what is going on let me give you a pretext to it ,you actually know half of my identity that is I'm their childhood friend but I'm more than that to your fiance actually.” you jabbed at her

“Y/N I said you no” Tom yelled

“Oh it’s too late now honey”

“For the record I'm his ex girlfriend. We had been in a relationship since we were teenagers then we broke up six years ago. But I guess he couldn't get over it as that is why he couldn’t say you about me” you glared at him looking up and down. “Maybe you are failing to give him the love he needs that is why he can’t forget me and is acting like a dickhead.”

El was definitely hurt by your words. She ran towards the beach house teary eyed. Tom ran after her “El wait! Don’t go! I can explain!! Please listen!!”

“Fuck you Y/N!!!”

You gave him the finger with both your hands with an uninterested look on your face.

The game obviously had to be ended after the heated argument. And everybody came back to the beach house. You were all sitting in the living room. Tom and El were in their room. Probably sorting out the matter after your big revelation.

“What is the problem with Tom?” Z exclaimed

“He has totally gone nuts” Sam scoffed

“Y/N are you okay?” Harrison nudged your shoulder

“Yeah I'm fine but I really feel bad I shouldn't have spoken to El like that. That was totally rude. I just got really angry. I didn't do it intentionally.

“It's okay Y/N we know it was never your fault. Tom has always been a dickhead.” Harry reassured you

‘I think I need to talk to El and clear things out before it gets more complicated.”

El was standing at the porch when you approached her.

“Hey”

“Hey” she gave a half smile

“Listen I came to apologize for today. I'm really sorry I shouldn't have talked to you like that. It was so rude of me. I just couldn't control myself after what Tom said. I don't know what Tom said to you about me but I have no intention of interfering in your lives. I'm really happy for both of you. To be honest I still love him, he is my best friend though he doesn't see me like his friend anymore. I don't want to become the reason for a rift in your relationship.”

“I understand Y/N in a way it was Tom's fault, he was the one who overreacted in spite of you saying sorry.”

“Thank you El for understanding.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah sure”

“Why did you guys break up?”

You sighed deeply “because I was way too selfish. I couldn't give the love he deserved. But now I feel you can fill that void in his life. You took El's hand in yours El “I'm giving his responsibility to you El. Please never leave his side. Fill his life with love and happiness he deserves. And if you guys want I can..I can leave tomorrow itself.”

“No Y/N I wouldn't want that you both share a past together but that should not affect our future. You will always be a good friend to me.”

“So if we are all good you guys are coming to the party right”

“Party??” El gave a confused look

“Yeah Harrison arranged a sort of welcome and success party for me, gonna have fun tonight.”

 “Yeah sure and I'll persuade Tom don't worry.

...........................................................

 You chose your little black dress with a deep plunging neckline as your outfit for the night. Zendaya was still confused between two of her outfits. You both did your make up and got ready.

“What's with that cleavage?” Zendaya quipped

“I don't think I stand a chance with that Steve guy after today's events so I have to find a new one” you laughed.

 As you guys reached the night club, you could hear the music blasting from outside. The bouncers checked your ids and let you in. Harrison ordered the drinks as you all gathered together. Harrison raised a toast

“To our long living friendships and our rock-star's successful album.”

You all cheered.

“Okay guys the drinks are on me for tonight, help yourselves” you announced.

The boys cheered. Everyone scattered the couples went for a dance as you looked at Tom and El dancing and laughing. You were sipping on a margarita when you felt a light tap on your shoulder and you looked back.

"Hey you went away without even saying a proper goodbye"

“Umm hi, sorry actually I wasn’t in a good state at that moment”

“Yeah I understand. how are you now?”

“Fine.”

He was checking you out all thanks to your dress

“Up here Mr.” You grinned

He gave a lopsided smile “you look hot”

“Thanks”

Physical by Dua Lipa starts playing

(Common love isn't for us We created something phenomenal Don't you agree? Don't you agree? You got me feeling diamond rich Nothing on this planet compares to it Don't you agree? Don't you agree? )

 Zendaya came and grabbed your hand “come on slowpoke. Let's burn the dance floor.” She pulled you to the dance floor.

(Who needs to go to sleep, when I got you next to me?

All night, I'll riot with you I know you got my back and you know I got you So come on, come on, come on Let's get physical Lights out, follow the noise Baby, keep on dancing like you ain't got a choice So come on, come on, come on Let's get physical)  

You both swayed to the music as you both started lip syncing with the song loudly and laughing. You grooved sensuously giving occasional glances to Steve. He took the que and approached you. You felt his arms around your hips as he turned you towards him. You put your arms on his shoulders as you both swayed to the music looking into each other's eyes.

“Hey Steve!! come on mate you have to go!” you heard a group of men calling out

“Er... sorry I have to leave my friends are calling. See you again” 

“It’s ok bye see ya” You came back to the counter. You ordered some lemon drops. You gulped it down and bite into the lime.

“Didn't think you will make him leave you so soon”

You rolled your eyes “wasn't today enough for you.”

“I can never get enough of you princess”

“Stop calling me that!!”

“Why does it turn you on?”

“Huh!!” you deadpanned. “It makes me feel nauseated. You don't excite me anymore Holland” you grinned. He was going to say something as Tuwaine interrupted

“Hey let’s do power hour” Tuwaine suggested

“Yessss!!!!” the boys shouted in unison

“Guys seriously none of you can handle yourselves after that. We girls have also come to enjoy not to carry your drunken asses home” You jabbed.

“We can handle ourselves Y/N don’t worry” Harry assured you

“We’ll see that”

The game started only Paddy didn’t participate as he was not sure of his capacity to handle . Jacob gave up half way through the shots. Sam and Harry both struggling to keep up the pace lastly giving up. It was now between Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine. Tuwaine won eventually. And now all the boys were definitely drunk as you had expected.

You were having your shots as Tom took one from you.

“Aren’t you already enough drunk loser”

“I’m not a loser” he said in a raspy voice

“Then who lost to Tuwaine anyways I’m gonna go dance you sulk here loser”

 Into you by Ariana Grande starts playing

(I'm so into you, I can barely breathe And all I wanna do is to fall in deep But close ain't close enough 'til we cross the line So name a game to play, and I'll roll the dice, hey)

You walked to the center of the dance floor swaying your hips a little as you start grooving to the song. You felt a little tipsy as you danced along the song, drunk sweaty bodies hovered around you. 

(Oh baby, look what you started The temperature's rising in here Is this gonna happen? Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move Before I make a move)

You started dancing with some random drunk guy. You glanced at Tom as you placed your hands around his neck and danced with that guy. Yes the alcohol in your system wanted Tom to make a move.

(So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

Tom clenched his jaw as he gulped down a shot slamming the glass on the bar counter and started walking towards you. You continued to dance sensually.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

You felt a familiar pair of arms around your waist as he turned you and pulled you closer to him. Your palms resting on his broad chest. The smell of his cologne taking over your senses.

(This could take some time, hey I made too many mistakes Better get this right, right, baby)

You placed your hands around Tom's neck as you get lost into each other's eyes. The world seemed a blur to you at the moment as you cared less of who was watching, you just wanted to live this moment.

(So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

 He took your hand in his and twirled you around a few times before pulling you closer, your back pressed to his chest, your bodies swaying, occasionally grinding against each other.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

 He brushed aside your hair with one hand, his other hand on your shoulder as he kissed you behind your ear. You gasped at his touch as you felt your body was on fire. You tilted your head a little to give him more access as he brushes his lips on your neck. Tom's hands ran down your arms lacing with your fingers.

(Tell me what you came here for 'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more)

You suddenly felt whatever is happening is wrong, you pulled away from him to leave as he caught hold of your hand.  

(I'm on the edge with no control And I need, I need you to know You to know, oh)

You looked at him and then to your hands. He pulled you impossibly closer as you slammed into his chest. Your legs were wobbly as he steadied you by holding your waist. The smell of his cologne doing things to you. Old memories, nostalgia hitting you. He lifts you up and spins a little.

  (So baby, come light me up and baby I'll let you on it A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

You look at him with droopy eyes as he brings you down; he hugs you even closer. He knelt near your neck, nose brushing against the bottom of your ear. You whimpered when his hot breath ghosted your ears. "Do I still excite you babygirl?" he whispered in your ears. You could just hum in response, your body shivering at each and every touch of his.

(Got everyone watchin' us, so baby, let's keep it secret A little bit scandalous, but baby, don't let them see it A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you)

Purple lights danced across Tom's face illuminating his  brown eyes, highlighting his each and every feature. You went dizzy when his lips ghosted at your sweet spot at the nape of your neck. You threw your hands around his neck tugging his hair at the bottom. His hands snaked around your waist sensually gliding to your thighs at the hem of your dress.You weren't that drunk so soon the realization hit you where it is leading to. You thought, what were you doing? This is so not right. You struggled to free yourself from his hold pushing him away by his chest.

(So come light me up, so come light me up my baby A little dangerous, a little dangerous my baby A little less conversation and a little more touch my body 'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you ) song fading away...............

You both stand in the middle of the dance floor breathless. You ran your hand through your already messed up hair. You stomped off to the bar counter as Tom followed you.

...............................................................................

Taglists: to be added send a message or ask I'll be happy to add you in the following chapters.

@sophs-library​ @sleepybesson​ @spideyparkerstark​ @itstaskeen​ @milli86​ @biebsmylife95​ @quaksonhehe​ @hannahholland1811​

@astridcommings

[dawniebb]

We Need to Talk About Evie

but do we though?

OKAY SO.

To the anon who asked if we were making more content, this is it :)

Let’s just say that this was another sort of marathon about the canon divergence universe I share with @healing-winston-pratt ! And this one included two lists, a drawing and a fic :) which is this one. Basically, a “Maggie is Evie” reveal bc I love to hurt myself and other people. I wrote this MONTHS ago :) but still, I hope you like it! <3

For background:

Why is Winston alive and why do Nova and him live with Leroy?

And some other things related to the canon divergence universe, but NOT to this fic:

About Evander’s family

Their portrait: https://healing-winston-pratt.tumblr.com/post/626983013669044224/sandra-obrien-wade-and-arthur-evander-wade

We absolutely don’t need to talk about Evie right now bc we’re having a hard time already, but here we go :)

@novadreamer95438 , @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff there you go! (And @obsidianfr3sk bc I saw your tags about the fics jsjsjs and @jacihayle, but, in both your cases, you haven’t asked to be tagged and we’re doing it in case you wanted to get the notification, hence, if you want to be removed from the tag list, just notify us, that’s totally fine <3 )

They were sitting across the table, and it was super uncomfortable.

Nova thought about a married couple who was about to tell their grown ass child they were getting a divorce, even though the idea of an universe where for some reason Winston and Leroy were the same age and decided to get married absolutely repulsed her.

However, as disgusting as that sounded, that was what they looked like. They were even sitting next to each other, and while Winston tried to smile a bit, Leroy looked dead inside.

Not that he were physically able to look in some other way.

Damn.

She was used to all of this. These situations. These types of scenes.

And yet, she wanted it to be over once and for all. These had been the longest 5 minutes of her life. So long she even had to look at her clock to check how many minutes had passed, because she was almost sure they had been sitting there for at least 15.

But no. 5 minutes.

5 suffocating and eternal minutes.

Finally, Winston sensed and acknowledged this was getting kind of weird and, while straightening his back, he spoke in a fake upbeat voice.

“So… “He said.

Then his tone felt flat and his voice turned into nothing, because it disappeared. Like that. After his first word, he was out of courage again. And he stayed there, with his mouth half-open.

But Nova couldn’t tolerate this any longer, so this time she took (or at least tried to) the lead.

“So?” She asked with a determinate, almost demanding tone. “I was kinda in the middle of something, so… if you guys could…you know, tell me what did you call me for?”

Technically, she wasn’t lying. She was in the middle of something. It wasn’t work-related, but still it was something.

Nova tended to take her inventions, her personal projects, pretty seriously and Winston and Leroy were more than aware of that, and since she knew that, she found it very rude of them to interrupt her; to take her out of her zone so they could all sit around the table in an awkward and tense silence, listening to the sound of their own breaths. That is, she wasn’t usually this this harsh towards them, but they had managed to put her in a bad mood.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course you wanna know what is it that we called you for.” Winston sniffed, lacing his fingers together on the table. He looked…no, he acted nervous.

Nova didn’t know what he was about to say or what they were trying to tell her, but she was sure as hell that, after this, Winston would have to talk to his therapist, as he was continuously clearing his throat to stop his fake high-pitched tone from coming out instead of his real voice.

“We need to talk.” He concluded.

Nova snorted, while Leroy rubbed his face so hard she could see the trace of his hand on his own skin…As if he were helping much to the situa…

“Goddamn. Don’t do that. It’s not like you’re being too helpful.”

Thank you.

“I know.” Leroy said in a monotonous tone. “However…”

“No. Please. Just stop. I’m shaking and you’re just making it worse. If you’re not gonna do anything to help then stop grimacing at me or get the fuck out.”

“Man.”

“You act like an old, adult-sized, grumpy toddler. Grow up.”

Nova bit her lip, trying to convince herself this wasn’t funny, even though it was. In the past, being aware Winston was mad would’ve been extremely scary (The fact he was kind to her didn’t mean he could be underestimated. Winston had easily been the most dangerous Anarchist after Ace and Ingrid) but right now it was just…this. He could have a bad temper if he put his mind into it, though he would move on after like 30 minutes or so.

And Leroy knew that too, so he didn’t get offended.

That, and the fact that it was extremely hard to make Leroy feel offended.

Winston closed his eyes and massaged his temples, trying to get his chill back and align his freaking chakras.

Nova hissed. She had had this idea for a couple of minutes now, but she decided that it was the time to spit it out because, besides being eager to go back to the basement, she could feel the stress levels were getting out of control and they were at the point where they soon would start killing each other.

“If this is about The Talk.” Nova said, and once their attention was back at her, she repeated, air quoting:

“The Talk.”

“We know what you’re referring to.” Leroy nodded.

“Yeah. So…there’s no need for that.” She assured. “I already know about that stuff. Honey gave me a really graphic lecture back in the day and, not to offend you guys, but I’m not sure I want to go through that again. I appreciate the intention, but…”

“It’s not about that.” Leroy said. Cold, almost like he wanted her to shut up. Nova knew there was no use in feeling attacked or bad because that was the way Leroy usually spoke to everyone. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge in her stomach. In Leroy’s mind, from what she had heard, seen and experienced, she didn’t fit in the everyone category.

“Oh.” She gulped. “What is it, then?”

Leroy stared at her, Nova stared at Winston when Leroy’s stare was too heavy, and Winston stared at Leroy too.

So good ol’ Cyanide had no other option but to open his mouth again.

“We need to talk about Evie.”

And the world went numb. Her world. Her entire, little, shattered world.

And even though everything around it was in flames, Nova’s body, which held her little world, felt frozen. She was made of ice.

And she felt extremely cold.

She looked at both Winston and Leroy with all the hatred she was yet to dispose; all the resentment she still carried within; all the pain that still ate from her insides from now and then; until she realized she had skipped at least 5 seconds breath, and her legs responded, helping her up from the chair almost against her will.

They had no right.

They weren’t allowed to mention that. Not yet.

Not when they knew she was yet to heal.

Not when they knew they were ripping open an old, painful scar.

“No, we don’t.” She stated directly. “The only person I’ll talk to about that at the moment is my therapist and if you don’t like it it’s not my obligation to apologize. You’ll have to deal with that. You’re grown ass men.”

This time it was Winston’s turn to rub his face until there has a hand-shaped red line all the way through it.

“Wow, you fucking genius.” He barked at Leroy. “So sensitive and subtle, as al—“

“YOU’RE GROWN ASS MEN!” Nova slammed the table, feeling so furious she didn’t even find the time to cry.

Mostly because didn’t feel like crying.

Instead, she felt like screaming in a pillow until her throat bled.

“HEY! FINE, FINE! CALM DOWN!” Winston reached for her hand, grabbing her by the wrists. “CALM DOWN, YOU’LL HURT YOUR HANDS!”

She stopped. Not because she was more calm, but because Winston looked genuinely worried and she couldn’t help but feel…something.

Nova breathed like an enraged bull until her lungs ached and Winston’s gaze felt bigger than her, along with his hold.

Just like when she was little, during stormy nights.

Winston and Leroy were always the best at calming her down. And even now, no matter how hard she tried, every time they did stuff like this she went numb. A weird type of numb.

A good type of numb.

“Good.” Winston sighed. “Would you mind to sit down?”

She did it, as her body suddenly felt heavy as a rock; her body touched the chair again, and she shivered but tried to act normal.

“I’m sorry.” Leroy said in a hoarse voice. And even if she expected something more, that something never came, but Nova understood anyways.

Still, she didn’t find the strength to answer.

Winston rubbed his hands against each other and gently pushed his glass of water across the table towards her, but although her throat was dry, she refused to drink from it. She still had something called pride.

“What do you want?” She asked coldly.

“Nova, look…”

“What do you want?” She asked again, annoyed. “Do you want to know about how I left her to die?”

Winston shut his eyes closed as if he had received a really painful punch, and he scratched his forehead.

“What do you want from me? What do you want to know?” Nova begged from them to answer. “Please. I don’t know what do you want or why do you want it but let’s just…get this over with.”

“We don’t want anything from you.” Leroy started, this time in a less hurtful and soulless tone. “We’ve already caused you too much harm all over the years and we’re trying to make it up to you. Hence, I apologize for broaching the subject in such a sudden and violent way.”

Nova’s lips trembled, just like her hands.

“Fine.” She said.

Just…fine.

Nothing else to say.

Not at the moment, at least.

“And I apologize in advance for having to bring this up in the first place.” Winston licked his lips and cleared his throat. Again. “We even consulted your doctor and everything and, needless to say, we were advised not to act like asses about it. But somebody did anyway so…”

“You’ve thrown so many bricks at me I could build a wall with them, Winston. Thanks for your cooperation.”

“You’re welcome, you insensitive piece of shit.”

As fast as he directed his attention to Leroy, he directed it to Nova again, who just sniffed, blinded by rage.

“You talked to my doctor.” She said. Not as a question, but rather as a statement.

Because that’s what it was, and she wasn’t going to apologize for that either.

“We did.” Winston nodded. “Remember that she provided us with her contact and stuff, in case you…”

“I know.” Nova massaged her temples. “I know.”

“She didn’t provide any confidential information, nor did she give us any type of sensitive details about your sessions.” Leroy assured. “So there’s no need for you to be…worried about that.”

She wasn’t worried about that. She trusted them enough, even if sometimes she wasn’t willing to admit it. At least, she trusted them enough to know that, if someday her therapist saw herself in the necessity to tell them something, anything about what happened during the appointments, she wouldn’t be mad.

Not too much, at least.

But this was just too out of character even for them. And, not to sound harsh, but she would’ve expected it from someone like Hugh. Not them. Not Winston and Leroy.

“I’m not.” She said, trying to remain in a neutral tone. “So…please, please just tell me what’s this issue that’s so delicate you had to talk to my therapist before talking to me.”

They stared to each other for a second, before Leroy handed the folder he’d been keeping under his arm to Winston; the one she hadn’t paid too much attention to, as she thought it was…normal paperwork stuff.

Winston didn’t hand it to Nova. Instead, he put it on the table and placed both his hands on top of it.

“So. You’ve been told about and even helped with the updates to the Renegades system.” Winston said. High-pitched.

“Correct.” Nova’s eyelid was twitching.

“And…well, you know, since you are…a Renegade.” Winston coughed. “They had to take DNA samples from you to…”

“Upload it to the system. Let’s skip that part. I know it.” Nova rolled her eyes. She had no idea why they were going around the topic so much. “I’m the one they took samples from. I had to sign for permission. There’s no need to explain something I did. “

“Okay, okay. I’m…I’m sorry. You’re right.” Winston sniffed. “But…we need to mention it because…well…”

“They took samples from all the current Renegade recruits:  Members of the Council, patrol units, the janitorial team, the Headquarters staff…” Leroy took a deep breath. “….Winston and I had been suspicious about this for a while but still…”

“Still, we didn’t know.” Winston nodded. “….Gosh. This is going to be fucking hard.”

Nova crossed her arms over her chest.

“What’s going to be hard?” She laughed sarcastically. “And what does Evie even have to do with this? What is this all about?”

When they just looked at her, she thought she might have been missing something. Or failing to catch something in that case. Not that she cared at this point.

“Nova. The thing is that…” Winston took a deep breath. “We…”

A nervous laugh escaped his mouth, while Leroy played with the fabric of the tablecloth, absently.

“We…uhm…” He gulped. “We got…a match.”

She heard and comprehended the structure of the sentence, but it didn’t make sense at all in her head. So, the best answer she could think of was:

“A match of what?” in a harsh tone, arching her eyebrow as she tilted her head to the side.

“What the fuck are you two talking about?”

Winston hissed, and Leroy cleared his throat.

“A match, Nova.” Leroy clarified.

And after remaining in silence for at least three seconds, he spoke again, just because Winston refused to do it.

“A DNA that matches yours. And that, comparing it to the samples they took from Evie when she was born…it…uhm….also matches hers.”

She heard the words through a blank noise that invaded her ears. Deafening.

She felt the hot tears creating a vessel through her vision, as her arms tightened around her chest. And somehow, the answer was still clear as water.

“That’s bullshit.” She declared. “Those tests are wrong because the Renegades are still negligent as fuck. So that’s pure bullshit. That’s pure and utter…”

“Nova…”

“I was there the day she died and I could’ve saved her but I didn’t so she fucking died.” She stated, calm. “That’s the way things are. That’s what happened. That’s what…”

“Nova.”

“Nova. Listen.” Leroy stared directly at her eyes.

And this time he looked absolutely destroyed, so she listened.

For once.

“Her name’s Margaret White.” He said, slowly. “That’s Evie. That’s your sister.”

Her heartbeat turned into a drum, beating so fast it made her whole body ache. She turned into a car about to crash against a fence. A rollercoaster. A train wreck. A hurricane about to happen. And above all that noise, all she could hear were the bullets; all she could touch was Evie’s soft baby skin; all she could feel was the apartment’s floor beneath her bare feet; all she could smell was her mother’s blood above her brow; all she could remember was Magpie’s face.

All she could recognize was the bullet she carried around in her pocket.

All she could remember was how that kid had stolen her bracelet. Twice.

How she stared at her so full of disdain, directing a different type of sneer at her every single time; so resented with everyone, even with herself people she didn’t know.

Magpie, that Magpie, was the little baby Nova had mourned for more than half of the years she had been alive.

Magpie, who hated her and everyone else.

“Oh, Nova…” Winston tried to reach for her hand, but Nova slapped his’ away as hard as she could, careful not to release her power on him, just because she wanted to confront both of them.

“That’s bullshit.” She repeated, frantic. “It can’t be true.”

All she’d done.

“It can’t be true. Those papers are wrong.”

All she’d suffered.

“It’s not true.”

All she’d risked to avenge her sister.

“You’re lying.” She said, tears streaming down her face, begging they were lying.

All she’d done and risked…just for her beloved little sister to be alive.

Her chest went up and down, violently, as she covered her ears to avoid hearing their voices.

“NO!” She screeched, getting up from her chair. “YOU’RE LYING! YOU’RE LYING! YOU ALL ARE NOTHING BUT…!”

“NOVA, PLEASE, CALM DOWN!”

She slammed her fist on the table once again, as she felt her whole body losing control. Shaking. Shivering. Trembling.

Crumbling apart along with her life.

Her lie of a life.

Her little sad world full of lies and grief.

And now grief was also a lie.

“YOU’RE FUCKING LYING!”

Couldn’t it had been, at least, somebody that loved her?

-.-

By the time the healer was gone, Simon finally noticed the little wounds in Winston’s hands. He also had bitten his nails until he reached his skin and it started to bleed.

And his face was soaked.

And that, even if it was odd to admit it, broke his heart. He was absolutely distraught, just like Leroy, even though Leroy was handling it way better.

If Simon hadn’t been through this many times, he probably would’ve reacted the same as Winston.

“Is she…?”

“Yeah. She’ll be fine.” Hugh cleared his throat.

It had happened so fast they didn’t even have time to put on their uniforms. They were here, with regular clothes, just because Leroy and Winston hadn’t figured who else to call.

“The healer gave her some sedatives. It’ll take a couple of minutes, but she’ll…she’ll be fine.” Hugh said, to which Winston hiccupped and nodded, even if he wasn’t crying anymore.

Leroy showed no reaction. He was staring at a blank space in the nearest wall.

“We figured …maybe you don’t consider it adequate that Adrian spends the night here, so…he already notified the rest of the team members and Tucker volunteered. You…know her, right?”

“We do.” Winston said in a hoarse voice. “The…girl with this… grappling hook, right? Ruby.”

“Err… not quite a grappling hook but yeah. That’s her.”

Oh my god, Hugh.

Later Simon would lecture him about how it was non polite to be this dense.

Right now, it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the scene that could be seen through the ajar bedroom door.

Nova was kneeling on the carpet while Adrian hugged her from the back, covering her body with his’.

You’re lying.

You’re lying.

You’re lying.

That’s what she said. On loop.

And Stars, Simon wished they were.

[notapaladin]

catching fallen feathers

At Jiang Yanli's behest, Nie Huaisang goes to Mo Village to check up on Mo Xuanyu a year after the man's expulsion from Lanling Jin.

He'd expected, at most, to secure a pawn. He leaves with a partner-in-crime (and everything shines just that little bit brighter).

(also on AO3!)

Mo Village isn’t much to write home about. Nie Huaisang wonders if he’d think differently if he was approaching through the front gates (as, undoubtedly, Jiang Yanli had intended when she’d said it’s been a year since Mo Xuanyu was sent home, A-Sang, can you…?) but he doubts it. He remembers Mo Xuanyu’s eyes at each mention of his family, remembers his raw terror of even potentially displeasing Jin Guangyao that hadn’t all been due to his half-brother’s reactions. He thinks the broken-down shack he’s approaching, armed only with medical supplies (A-Li’s idea) and easily-kept food (his cousin Nie Huang’s idea—I can’t imagine they’re feeding him well, Sect Leader, I’ve seen him eat, she’d said--) is a better representation of the family’s heart.

He stands just outside the window, and calls, “Mo Xuanyu?”

Silence. It stretches on for long enough that he begins to think seriously of breaking in, before a rough, sullen voice cracks out, “What do you want?”

Good. He’s alive. Clearly not well—the Mo Xuanyu he’d met a few brief times in Jin robes had been clumsy and easily rattled but an endless font of sunlight given the least kindness—but alive and in condition to speak. He would do. Huaisang pitches his voice lower. “Will you come out? I mean you no harm.”

“...That’s what people say when they do.”

Huaisang winces. Once, he’d come across a group of more senior disciples mocking Xuanyu, plying him with questions and laughing at his enthusiasm when he’d gone on to explain things he’d just learned. It had taken him a long time to realize he wasn’t surrounded by friends. He’s clearly learned it now. Clearing his throat, Huaisang risks further speech. “It’s Sect Leader Nie.”

Mo Xuanyu comes out, and Huaisang tastes bile in the back of his throat.

The boy—a young man really, he supposes, though it’s still strange to think of anyone seven years his junior as approaching adulthood when some days he still feels like a teenager himself—looks terrible. His once-fine hair coils in disarray down his back, unwashed and unbrushed, and his robes are ragged, patched, and too short for him. The cosmetics he’d worn even when the other Jin disciples hurled abuse at him have been applied with a rough hand, making him look even younger and more exhausted than he is. There’s a bruise high on his cheekbone, and his arms bear cuts and bruises of their own. Some of them look self-inflicted.

And he’s staring at Huaisang in unvarnished shock, gray eyes wide. “...It is you.”

Huaisang risks a smile. He hasn’t felt like this since approaching an injured hawk, trying to soothe it enough to heal without being savaged in the process. At least they’ve met. Sure, it was only once or twice, but hopefully Mo Xuanyu will trust him enough to listen—

He staggers back with a wholly undignified yelp when Mo Xuanyu launches himself into his arms. Birdlike and fragile the young man may be (Huaisang can feel his ribs, his collarbones, the rabbit-quick beat of his heart), but Mo Xuanyu is some inches taller than him and actually bothered to train with a sword in the past few years (badly), so it’s not so much a hug as a collision. Sounding half-strangled to his own ears, he chokes out, “Mo-gongzi?!”

Mo Xuanyu all but leaps backwards, falling on his ass in the dirt. He looks terrified, and Huaisang is about to reassure him that he’s fine, just startled, the dust will brush off—and then he starts sobbing. “I’m sorry—Sect Leader, I’m so sorry! I know—you don’t want me to touch you, it’s just that you were nice to me and—”

“It’s alright!” Instinctively Huaisang drops to his knees beside him; part of him wants to put a hand on Xuanyu’s shoulder, a comforting gesture he’s given and received thousands of times, but he’s afraid of causing a further scene. No one can know he’s here; he’s fortunate beyond measure that the shack is so far away from the rest of the compound. He keeps his voice low and soothing, thinking of that injured bird. “It’s alright. I was only surprised. Why don’t we move a little, hm? Sit under that tree just there and have a nice chat. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me!”

A wavery attempt at a smile. “You were always kind to me. Not like—the other ones.”

He knows Yanli used to let her unacknowledged bastard half-brother-in-law push her wheeled chair around the gardens. He suspects that probably made the man’s tormentors worse. Brushing off his robes, he rises to his feet. “Come on. I hope you like pork dumplings!”

The shade of the tree is cool, the sun is warm, and it turns out that Mo Xuanyu loves pork dumplings. While he devours them, chasing them down with a flask of tea pressed into his hands, Huaisang takes the time to marshal his thoughts and plan his words. Hesitation will not serve him now; Mo Xuanyu needs firm, clear speech or he’ll fall apart. Finally, when Mo Xuanyu is licking his fingers clean (distracting, if only he didn’t look so much like a starved animal), he speaks. “Can I look at your arms? They look painful.”

Xuanyu freezes. Huaisang thinks he’ll refuse for a moment before his arms are offered, a stiff, jerky motion oozing discomfort. “Here.”

Huaisang is no doctor, but you don’t grow up a member of Qinghe Nie without being able to do basic first aid. He sends a thankful prayer to the heavens that none of the cuts are visibly infected and sets about bandaging them, carefully avoiding the bruises shaped like angry fingers. Mo Xuanyu shakes under his touch, eyes fixed and glazed. It makes something like anger coil through his throat, but he keeps his voice light. Calm. “Does it hurt?”

A mute shake of his head.

He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know, but he can see Jiang Yanli’s face in his mind, hear her words  in his ears. “Did your family do this?”

Mo Xuanyu chokes, tears his hands from Huaisang’s grasp, and buries his face in them. “They—it’s because I’m wrong, they say. A cutsleeve, not right in the head, I shouldn’t be around decent people.”

They locked me away because they think I’m mad.

“When my mother was still—when she was—but she died, because of me, because I’m useless—“

Oh, Huaisang has heard that before. Useless. Pathetic. Weak. You’ll never be a proper cultivator. A-Li gets sympathy—her lack of cultivation is due to her weak heart, beyond her control—but he knows there are those who hate her, too, for daring to have married into the Jin family with barely enough of a golden core to light a talisman. There is no sympathy for those whose use lies outside of their proper place. (He remembers Wei Ying.)

Mo Xuanyu is raking his nails down his face, leaving red welts behind, and Huaisang knows he should speak now. “You’re not useless. Didn’t you get a lot done at Koi Tower?”

“I did, I did, but—” For a moment he convulses, clutching his head. “My brother—Jin Gu—”

My brother. They killed him and they want me to be happy about it. He remembers a choked-off sob into a gold-laced handkerchief, remembers leaning awkwardly over the arm of Yanli’s chair in his own mourning robes to hug her. He remembers Mingjue.

But here and now, Mo Xuanyu looks like he’s shattering at the mere mention of Jin Guangyao, and Huaisang has to deal with it. Calm. Soothing. Frightened bird. He reaches out, carefully putting a hand on Mo Xuanyu’s shoulder to steady him. “Breathe. You don’t…you don’t have to tell me.”

Mo Xuanyu shakes his head; when he rubs his eyes, his makeup smears even more. His voice has the disgusting liquid quality of someone with a nosebleed oozing back down their throat. “Nobody else listens! They don’t listen to me. They think I’m crazy, a lunatic, but—but I’m not, I swear! We studied the works of the Yiling Patriarch, we learned so much, I was—I thought I was doing good…”

There it is. Confirmation of what he suspected, confirmation that his trek out to this disgusting shack in this forsaken town wasn’t for naught. He can use Mo Xuanyu; the young man would probably even thank him. Perhaps his plan could—

He remembers tired eyes, shaking hands. Mo Xuanyu was…strange, but he was—is—my brother-in-law. A-sang, please, if you can…

He remembers the coldness of all that gold, the rot at its core.

And yet, somehow, he hadn’t expected this. He wakes his own qi and prods at the energy coiled around Mo Xuanyu’s core experimentally—yes, that is definitely a curse. The way the man stutters and gasps when he tries to elaborate on his work (still trying to explain, to prove his worth even as he sobs and clutches his temples) gives Huaisang an idea. “Mo-gongzi.”

Mo Xuanyu blinks tearily at him through his fingers and the fall of his hair. “…Sect Leader Nie…?”

He turns his head, studying the veins in a fallen leaf. It’s still a bright green, browning and crumbling only at the edges. “You and—your brother studied the works of the Yiling Patriarch. I imagine you would have done so at his home, yes?”

Nod.

“You must have seen all sorts of rituals.”

Nod. “I—” A swallow. “I copied them all. I memorized them all.”

“Were there…” Now it’s his turn to hesitate, something twisting uncomfortably in his guts. “Ways to bring back the dead? Not fierce corpses, but...”

Another nod, and Mo Xuanyu’s eyes gleam with bitter determination. It’s a look he’s seen in his own mirror. “So many. The Yiling Patriarch—he was a genius, there were so many old spells collected there. Even—the ones that sacrifice the caster, to summon—to summon evil spirits in his own body.”

He could use that. Mo Xuanyu looks halfway there already; in this village, with this family, Huaisang thinks all he’d have to do to have the man summoning the Yiling Patriarch for mass slaughter would be to hand him the knife. But...but. Well.

It feels wrong. He has to force the words out around a sudden lump in his throat. “Wei-xiong can’t be an evil spirit.”

Mo Xuanyu looks baffled. “But…he’s the Yiling Patriarch—wait, you call him Wei-xiong?!” He’s going to have to remember that wide-eyed look of astonishment; it’s adorable.

Gusu floats in his mind’s eye. “We were schoolmates, once. He was—he was kind. He hated injustice and underhandedness.” He would hate me now. “I don’t think the Self-Sacrifice Ritual would even work, and then you’d throw away your life for nothing and Young Madame Jin would be sad.”

“…You know Young Madame Jin?”

For the first time in their conversation, Xuanyu looks happy. It makes him feel even worse, to remember how he’d barely spared a thought for such considerations when planning this visit; things like friendship weren’t allowed to matter in the face of his plans. “…She sent me to find you. To see…to see how you were doing.”

“Well.” There’s a cracked little laugh. “You’ve seen me. Thank you for the food and the bandages, Sect Leader Nie.”

A dismissal. He looks past him, to the shed. “…No. Come with me to Qinghe.”

That’s startled him; his eyes go wide, his lower lip trembles. “I—what—”

Huaisang rises, offering a hand. “Young Madame Jin would have my head if I left you here. And I think we would work much better together in a proper library, don’t you?”

Mo Xuanyu stays where he is, blinking up at him with an expression of such complete confusion it’s honestly heartmelting. “…You want…to work with me...?”

His brother’s screaming, bloodstained face is imprinted onto his eyelids whenever he blinks. He looks down at Mo Xuanyu—ragged, undernourished, filthy—and thinks he hears the creak of a wheeled chair in a sunlit room, sees the flight of unreachable birds. More sins piled at the foot of Jin Guangyao’s throne. “I do.”

“Why?!”

It’s anguished, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and shove all emotion down, down, past the raging spiral of fury and grief that threatens to drown him when he thinks of it, to say without screaming, “…Your brother killed mine.”

Mo Xuanyu swallows hard. “He told me—I’m crazy. He said—he said nobody would ever believe me.”

It clearly wasn’t a surprise. He knows. Huaisang wonders how he knows, wonders if Jin Guangyao brags, wonders if another one of his brother’s body parts is hidden—no. He has to stay focused. He can break down in private later, once he’s gotten Mo Xuanyu fully on his side. “Do you hate him?”

Fists clench as the young man grits out, “Yes.”

“Do you want him dead?”

Huaisang swears the shadows under their tree get deeper. “Yes—yes, please, I want them all dead!”

It’s too loud, a shriek, and he jolts at the noise and casts a frantic look around. Seeing that nobody’s running towards them—they must be used to screams, he realizes—he hastens to quiet Mo Xuanyu down anyway. “Shh, shh. Quiet, remember?”

“…Okay.” Xuanyu takes a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. When Huaisang risks patting his head, he can feel the tension drain out of him. Xuanyu’s voice is much softer when he murmurs, “I’ll help you with—anything you want.”

It takes a few moments to identify the feeling coursing through him as relief, and a few moments after that for him to lift his hand from Mo Xuanyu’s head and remember he’s supposed to be the calm, soothing, at-least-slightly-dignified sect leader instead of a jellied pile of relieved tension. I have a demonic cultivator. I—no, we have allies to turn to. We can do this. We can bring Wei Wuxian back, kill Jin Guangyao, and avenge my brother. “So you’ll come home with me? To Qinghe?”

Mo Xuanyu’s smile is tremulous and radiant. “I would be honored.”

It is, he thinks, the beginning of something good.

&

&

NOTES: JIANG YANLI LIVES BECAUSE I SAID SO. unfortunately, because jgs and jgy are dicks, they use her disabling injury/insistence that wwx is innocent as an excuse to lock her up in a tower with very few visitors. nhs is one of them and they bond over a desire for Murder. 

ok so idk if/when i'll ever continue this so CLIFF NOTES for this whole au setting:

--sangyu/wangxian/possibly chengqing endgame!! --several years of experiments, dancing around non-murder-related feelings, and at least one explosion follow mxy being settled into the unclean realm with a LAB and STUFF (nhs spoils him bc mxy's smile is a thing of beauty & maybe...he's soft...) --mxy is still enthusiastic about using the self-sacrifice ritual “i can help both of you!!” “consider: if you do this and wei-xiong finds out i let you, he will kill me” “but–” “AND I’LL BE SAD” “…okay" --nhs supplementing his war fan with a dizi/talisman --the rituals they eventually invent bring wwx back in a body that resembles both his old one and mxy, but since it takes like a year to set up/mxy still wants his family dead from backlash if he fails, he has to move "back home" and it's. bad. for a while. --(wwx: why would you think i'd kill your family for you. mxy: because sect leader nie says you hate injustice? wwx: WE HAVE A DEMON ARM TO DEAL WITH) --(mxy/nhs were not expecting nmj's arm to be quite THAT murderous. it's more docile with nhs around) --the yi city arc goes better bc a) a-qing/songxiao all live and b) mxy and xue yang have a showdown as only ex-coworkers who hate each other can. mxy is a very good demonic cultivator by now --the plot also speeds up a lot bc mxy and nhs TELL PEOPLE THINGS (mostly mxy lbr) --jyl is busted out and eventually strangles jgy with zidian. there is much rejoicing --nhs at some point discovers that the jins seem to be throwing money somewhere odd and finds they've been keeping wen qing alive to do experiments for them. lotus pier is a good, safe place for her to recuperate, right? right --once he gets over the shock of the yiling patriarch having a son, mxy and lsz are fast friends --("what do i do if i have a crush on a boy" "...which boy" "..............jin......ling.........." "YOU HAVE TERRIBLE TASTE" "HE'S YOUR NEPHEW." "THAT'S WHY I'M SAYING THAT.")

[popculturebuffet]

Hickman’s X-Men Line: One Year in Part 1: Prelude, House and Powers of X, X-Men and New Mutants (Hickman)

Under the cut is an explination of how hickman’s run happened (the mass decay will be covered another time probably), and dives into his x-books: house of x, powers of x,x-men and his breif run on new mutants and what i thought. Pax Krakoa baby. 

One year ago, I breathed a sigh of relief as I read the utterly masterful house of x #1.  See for the past few months, i’d been waiting on baited breath for this comic with a level of anticipation not matched by any before or since. Even the debut of a spinoff to Chew, one of my faviorite comics of all time that i deftnetly need to do a retrospective on, this week got within the same galaxy and it still wasn’t on the same level. This was big, grandiose and everything I hoped for. And whatever issues I had as House and it’s sister series came out slowly died out as the full story unfolded, my jaw dropped and my faith in Hickman to save the x-men was  fully delivered. At last the x-men were back on top. And it was going to be one hell of a ride.  

As you probably know the x-men had been treated pretty badly at marvel due to fox having the movie rights, a move that still baffles and frustrates me. Instead of making money to rub in fox’s face by promoting the hell out of them in merchandise, animation, video games and of course comics ALONGSIDE the avengers, they basically ignored the x-men and fantastic four to give fox less to work with to spite them while fox.. entirely ignored this as since both franchises have been around since the 60′s and the x-men had had mountains of spinoffs to give them mountains of characters. So in short: a decision to spite and hurt their compeitors only cost marvel money, pissed off fans and fox’s eventual absortion as far as I can tell had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. 

Thankfully marvel DID stop being stupid eventually and relented: The Fantastic Four came back a year before house of x with a decent run by dan slott, which is thankfully more like earlier spider-man work and ff work, and less like what his spider-man run became from superior onward despite the ocasional misfire but i’ll talk about both runs another day. I mostly bring it up because with this revivial, marvel also slowly reintegrated the four back into the marvel universe and made their return feel like a big deal.  The X-Men however took a bit: while they got an earlier shot at returning with ressurxion. Buuut with the idea of having hickman return in their back pocket, marvel apparently refused, at least according to cullen bunn who I fell has no real reason to lie, to let the writers rock the boat too much and the era perdictably was just meh, especially flagship book X-Men Gold which was written bafflingly by Mark Gugenhiem and outside of one or two good ideas basically felt like the comics equivlent of one of those party store albums where every song is a cover done by someone who couldn’t give half a damn. There were bright spots though with Cullen Bunn finishing out his awesome x-men tenure with x-men blue, Sina Grace’s wonderful iceman that took the wonky execution of Bendis’ decision to make bobby drake gay and made it work beautifully, and the decent if somewhat baffling x-men red. But overall it just felt like a missed opportunity and with the fox deal in bloom and a new EiC, marvel NEEDED something bigger, bolder and grander to do with marvel’s strangest heroes of all. After all all eyes would be on them while Marvel’s Movie department took a few years, probably longer now thanks to the pandemic, to let things cool off before bringing the x-men into the mcu.  Enter Jonathan Hickman: Writer of another one of my faviorite runs of all time, his Fantastic Four run, along with an enjoyable but heavily flawed avengers run, a secret warriors run i’ve read half of that was a hell of a ride, tons of ultimate comics, and a bunch of indies I haven’t read but are probably great. A wordy weirdo and i’m convinced the second coming of grant morrison, and I hope one day the two work together on something tha’ts equal parts weird and amazing.

The morrison comparison is also apt as both came into the X-Men at a time when the x-men badly needed them: Just like Hickman morrison had to deal with a largely stagnant x-men and changed them to fit the times. And yes unsuprisngly i’ll also be covering morrisons run, warts and all, and it’s also one of my faviorite comics of all time. However Hickman was given a huge advtange his spirtiual predecessor, and really few comics writers EVER have gotten: full control of the x-men line.  Unlike morrison who wasn’t even allowed to use certain characters despite writing the main fucking x-book, Hickman got full creative control: full say in the direction of the story, full say in who came on board and to let them pitch whatever they wanted to do. And honestly it’s an apporach that’s not only reovlutionarly but makes the books FEEL like their actually occuring around the same time. Sure their all still seperate entities, but it DOES feel like one coheisive universe. Contrastingly with the avengers Black Panther’s solo has had him on a year long sojurn in space, before returning to earth.. while also running the avengers over in jason aaron’s run and having his own spinoff team, without any fucking clue as to when intergalactic empire of wakanda takes place in relation to everything else. Tony Stark is currently just taking back both his own damn name and the iron man name in his own book, but is also a major player in avengers, and empyre with no mention of his seeming drunken spiral (itw as a ploy) or arno taking up the armor and I feel these issues rather than the neglect the x-men once had are why krakoa���s impact isn’t being felt more in other titles. I’m not saying don’t let books do their own thing, but I am saying let them have fucking consequences and weight instead of just acting like one isn’t happening or at the very least have a character be absent for an arc so you can fit the other stories into continuity easier. As X-Men’s shown it dosen’t stifle inovation and hell even immortal hulk easily fit into no road home with a fucking note saying “this takes place before x issue” it’s not that hard.  This advantage was likely part of Hickman’s terms for coming back. See the x-men were the one thing at marvel he never got to do. The Gillieon and Aaron runs and Bendis runs meant the spot simply wasn’t open and by the time he was leaving it was clear marvel wanted to bury the x-men not praise them, so his ideas had no run. But the X-Men were what got Jonathan into comics. A shocking fact I learned at last years comic con, during which most of the dawn of x titles were revealed, was he WASN’T a fantastic four or avengers fan as a kid, not hating them but like me with the avengers for some time, not really caring about them. But with both runs, he did his homework, read as much as possible, and BECAME a fan, and it shows as both runs show a deep love for both marvel and the teams present. With X-Men they were his dream, his golden goose, his windmill, he just never was in the right place at the right time... but with Marvel needing his starpower and creativity and having nothing to loose with the x-men and badly needing a big run to hlep keep intrest in the x-men till the new movies, he finally was. So seeing the company needed him and he could get his dream and the control he needed, while dc had just taken bendis, didn’t need him and until very recently was ran by a moron, his choice to come back to marvel instead of go to dc as he’s admitted, was obvious. And it ended up being the right one. House and Powers of x were massive creative and commerical hits and the following titles have all been mostly praised. The new direction has been a boon for the franchise,k the fans and marvel.  So being a fan of this direction, as you can tell by the massive intro, to give my thoughts on each book so far: what I think their doing right, where some went wrong etc, since I’d rather wait another year or so befor ediving into these and let some more of hickman’s plans and future story hints spread throughout his books pay off first. WIth that all out of the way it’’s time for a deep dive of x.So grab some plant based snacks, your x-shaped helmets, and your krakoan coffee, it’s time to finally get into hickman’s era of x-men. 

HOUSE OF X AND POWERS OF X The opening salvo and just with two mini series that are one, though why he DIDN’T just have them be one big mini series I genuinely do not know, probably to justify having two diffrent artists to carry the load, is an utter masterpiece. Plain and simple. Let’s get the status quo the series set up out of the way so I can dig into it more: Magento and Xavier were revealed to have been working together for years behind the scenes.. with Moira Mactaggert, one of my favoirite x characters who the series changes utterly and forever. See instead of being the one human who consitantly is on mutants side and one of the x-men’s staunchest allies who sadly hadn’t been resusrected in 20 fucking years, she was a mutant herself, her ablility being reincarnation.. and thus had lived through 9 of her 10 lives seeing mutantkind always loose so told xavier and magneto about this in the hopes of breaking the wheel and letting mutantkind live this time.  However hickman , while revealing the alliance does brilliantly still make it work in continuity for me: it’s clear from moira’s notes in one issue, as house and powers and any following titles love having charts or text based sections that I feel give the comics a unique flavor and really help boost most issues, that Charles optimism she was trying to break him of and faith in humanity took years to fully shatter: he plotted and schemed with her to protect his species but it was clear he probably felt it woudln’t be necessary that humanity would prove her wrong.. and by this series it’s clear, no they haven’t changed, the majority of them just want to genocide mutants and have tried again and again and again while the rest who don’t necessarily want it, paticuarlly the superheroes did nothing while Magneto chaffed against her after the whole “alter his infant self after he was deaged by a mutant he made into a baby to be more pacificsitc which naturally pissed him off when that wore off”. Yes that’s a thing that actually happened pre and post retcons it’s why a survivor of the holocaust is , while not a YOUNG man, still healthy and vibrant. It’s a clever way to not undermine those stories while still telling this one and this retcon is a move I like as unlike most retcons it’s both there to tell a good story and excuted in a way that outside of moira dosen’t undermine anything. The Moira retcon I was and to a degree still am mixed on. While the new version of her is brilliant, creative and intresting and I can’t wait to see what happens with her next time she shows up, I do mourn the old as the x-men had few human allies and now their only big one is now a mutant herself, but it IS in service of a really damn good narraitive and the twist that the bad futures presented were in fact other lives of moira was brilliant, and it’s nice to see SOMETHING done with her. I’d rather something that i have a small problem with lead to really great things and be worth the sacrifice of her former character, than just changing things because “fuck it I want to do this and their letting me do this’ as a lot of retcons tend to be. Hickman’s story needs moira and her cycle of defeat to truly soar to the heights it’s reaching, and to make Charles and Xavier’s back alley actions make sense, so i’ll glady sacrifce one version of a character that I really liked for another version of her that’s also really good.  The other big swing though I was completley on board for: Hinted at early on by serveral dead mutants being alived, after a sucidie mission against new big bads and mutant hating extermists orchis, who are far better written than other extermists,   it’s revealed just why death has seemingly taken a holiday: the big plan that has been decades in the making for xavier and co? That will reshape mutant kind and required working with mr sinsiter of all people? Revivie all dead mutants.  See in a brilliant reveal Cerebro isn’t just a mutant tracker; It’s a copier, copying their essecnes reaguarly and storing them for later, updating them every so often and thus meaning any who died can come back. Why it took Chuck so long to do this is also explained as he needed 5 specific mutant power sets to do it and thus had to wait till they had everything they needed: Goldballs, yes goldballs, spits out his giant golden balls, phrasing, which hickman in an insane and awesome turn revealed to be EGGS. Yes EGGS. Proteus, Moira’s son and former villian whose now pacificed since this body cloning process means he has an infnite suply of xavier bodies to burn through and thus isn’t killing people, warps reality to mamke the eggs viable. Elixir, a healer whose been through some shit the poor guy,gives the eggs , once injected with the mutant in questions dna via syringe because of course, life, and Tempus, goldballs former classmate fellow bendis creation and mistress of time, speeds it up a bit so they don’t have to wait a good few decades for some mutants to rerez. The fifth that makes all this possible is hope summers, mutant messiah and adopted daughter of cable returned to promence once more, whose power is revealed to be power maniulation and thus can boost their powers to the degree neded for this. it’s a BRILLIANT turn that not only undoes all the pointless deaths mutants have undergone, but changes the game: Genocide is now near impossible, as humanity has no idea bout any of htis, and instead of mutant lives going down, they can only go once.. as one man once put it...

And as an x-men fan having watched characters I love die again and again for stupid reasons, especially int he placeholder run right before house of x, this was so satsifying. Everyone the x-men had lost, every character I loved who was gone and forgotten.. they were back or would be back.  And thanks to Krakoa they were thriving: By giving mutantkind a homeland instead of a headquarters, a nation given to one of their own because he demanded itbasically, or an island fortress designed to give a dying species refuge, they have a goregous sentient island (I’ve always loved krakoa for the record though I wonder what happened to his clone son), with abundant food, teleporting gates across the world to visit wherever they like or live in the various worldwide habitats if they please, and peace and security they’ve neve rknown. No more being woken up to get to a panic room because a sentienl attacked. No more having religious maniacs blow up busses containing your tine. No more having the vast majority of the superhero community do nothing as a fucking plauge cloud wipes out your species. Anything apporaching krakoa now has hundreds of the most powerful beings alive defending all mutants.. and that includes the worst of the worst, all given amntesty.. but they must tow the line or else be given a fate worse than death. After years of pain and suffering and misery mutantkind is free safe and happy. They still have to fight to get the rest of their kind out of racist hands and to saftey, the fight’s not over.. but now the odds are in mutantkinds favor. It’s paradise.  And yet this mini, and this whole run dosen’t run from tough issues; The mutants are now isolationists and only mutants are allowed on krakoa itself.. on the one hand this is a bad idelogy and potentially dangerous, instead of fighting for harmony fighting for my land alone.. but it’s also see why Mutantkind has taken to it. The X-Men have tried for at the least a decade in universe and at the most and most likely 15 years to live in harmony, fight for mankind and make peace with them.. and only a small chunk has acutally tried to help them with that. The other large fraction? They either build death machines to try and wipe out all mutants, and in the case of Cassandra NOva who while not a human is still a racist genocidal bitch, SUCCEED in wiping out a large chunk, or do nothing while mutantkind suffers.  The series forces you to think about the implications that marvel comics themselves previous ignored: That with all the superheros in this world who arent mutants.. more often than not htey’ve done fuck all when terrible shit happens. When Genosha died, not a one asked the x-men what happened or tried to hunt down those responsible. When Decemation happened, the avengers were more concerned with helping the x-men cover it up than helping them move on and did nothing as the goverment made xavier’s into a reservation, even after regrestration happened and the goverment had more heroes than ever to spare to helping them. When the T-Mist happened years later instead of stopping terrigin or asking the inhumans to stop it for the good of another race, the rest of the heroes just did fuck all. Sure the avengers were on a budget and the ff were asbent, but there were enough heroes in the world still and enough teams to do something about it and only the ones with mutants on them did!. IT’s hard to say “well you shoudln’t exclude them”.. when the rest of superhero kind has been subtly doing it their whole lives.  But it dosen’t shy away from the claims of racial superiority the isoaltion or the fact the x-men basically sued for nationhood by making requiring recognizing their nation hood the price for trading for their life saving and extending, world changing drugs, which you would still need to buy. There’s other issues, one that i’ll get to in a moment as it was only revealed in x-men. Various characters, Corsair in issue one of the ongoing, the fincial summit in issue 4 and the ff both in house of x #1 and ff/x-men, all question this and some of the ethics. Hickman brilliantly decides instead of just painting the x-men as absolute moral rights, to show their new nation warts and all: the genuine good their doing and trying to do but also the price they have to pay for it and the mistakes they may be making. And the compromise necessary to build a nation. It’s all chiling, compelling shit that’s even more releveant in a time when bigotry is piling up like crazy. Both house and x-men, which i’ll get to in a second, ask questions with no easy answers and it makes them a compelling read.  Also compelling is the two mini series use of flashbacks: The two previous moira timelines, which we learn are just that as we go, are compelling with the apoclaypse timeline having loveable heroes were are heartbroken to see die in the struggle, while the last timeline seemingly sees the mutants turn as bad as the humans.. only to peel back a layer at the end and reveal humans are still very much the real monsters, and them evolving via machine is a threat to mutant kind's natural evolution. It was a good story twist and of course there’s FAR more to dig into in both books, and I defintely will at some point in the future as I said. But there’s tons of great ideas here: Sinsiter not only being a mutant but a reluctant ally, the same of apocalyspe, the heavy questions I got into above, the idea of machines being mutants greatest threat which makes a ton of sense, and the various ones I already went into. I can’t gush about this book enough, but since this is already long enough i’m trying. The point is both mini series are great and how you do a self contianed event perfectlY plenty of consequence, plenty of scope but enough character and brilliant ideas and a FUCK TON of quotable and iconic lines, all blend into one of the very best series i’ve ever read. And lead directly into..

X-Men I talked about a lot of what this book represents above as it’s a direct continuation of the above, but the book on it’s own is still something diffrent. while it continues setting things up, playing with the new toybox hickman set up, and asking the tough questions, x-men does it in a diffrent way. House and Powers bounce around through time while all telling one huge story and one huge bundle of setup for this status quo.  X-Men instead is a bunch of single issues. It’s still a ton of setup, though with enough payoff to house and powers that it at least so far hasn’t become tedious, especailly since hickman specifically has plans for all of it and has shown in the past he’s a long game man when it comes to storytelling, but through more action packed stories that, with the exception of mistque’s spotlight issue so far, have one shared element: Cyclops, aka Scott Summers, who as grand captain of krakoa is the nation’s ruling council’s go to guy for missions and who he himself can form any team he once for any mission.  Cyclops, like the x-men hadn’t been treated well for years; Various characters lambasted him after the phoenix force drove him mad and lead to him killing charles xavier, and before that his run as leader of utopia, not helped by x-force painting him as a cold heartless dickweed, had him forced to make questionable decisions that made fans turn agains thim despite the hard position he was in. But now with the burden of absolute leadership of mutantkind in other hands, HIckman writes scott beautifully and has restored him to his proper place.  WIth Xavier taking over as absolute leader of mutantkind and his race no longer hanging by a thread for the first time in years scott can relax and ENJOY himself. As the first issue shows he has everything he ever could have possibly wanted: A healthy marriage with Jean again, and an open one at that with him free to still see emma and Jean openly seeing Logan. Logan himself no longer trying to murder scott for his mistakes or kill his teenage self due to bad writing, but being his best friend again and also living with him and presumibly having threeways because they have connected bedrooms and of course jean would want both at once. Maybe they also just fuck each other sometimes again the details haven’t exactly been clear but it’d explain the tension disappearing. Maybe the schism would’ve ended quicker if Cyclops and Wolverine just fucked each other after children of the atom. Hey not every question is a deep personal one on krakoa sometimesm it’s just “Are these two fucking and could it have solved things faster in the past if they did?”. Also I almost forgot to mention, and added this near the end of writing this, in additoin to everything else scott now lives ON THE FUCKING MOON, on the blue area with a breathable atompshere, on a moon house with his family and fuckbuddy and Vulcan’s buddys. It’s fucking amazing. But moving back to other things scott’s gotten besides logan’s wang up his butt, as seen in issue one thanks to the gates his dad can now visit anytime, his brothers live with him with Vulcan going from genocidal dickweed to weirdo thanks to his experinces between his “death’ and this series, and he’s just. happy. And as a leader he takes the x-men on thrilling missions: the series combines action with character and worldbuilding and it is great.  The worldbuilding part has been tremendous; we’ve seen new foes in the returning children of the vault and horticulture, aka what if the golden girls were tv ma, and also plant based  supervillians plotting a better future for mankind that krakoa’s drugs clash with. We’ve seen nimrod creeping close, charles and magneto not playing ball with mystique start to backfire, the return of krakoa’s lost love, and in my faviorite arc, we’ve seen broo, one of my faviorite x-people and intellegent brood, eat an egg and thus become god emperor of the brood, not only giving the vicious race a chance to reform but giving the x-men a huge advatange in space, doubeldby events we’ll get to in a second.  And biggest of all we saw the crucible: Since those depwoered by the decimation can get power back by dying again, and to prevent overworking the five with mass sucidies krakoa came up with a nasty solution,: earning resurection via ritual combat. And like the above there aren’t easy answers to this: mass sucidie isn’t better or faster, but having mutatns forced to EARN repowering by dying brutally isn’t a great solution either and is kind of sick. And it also opens up questions about ressurectoin that Nightcrawler feels made need reegion to answer htem. It’s again good heavy instreating stuff.  We also got my faviorite issue #4 where the x-men go to a fincial summit, and while security detail cyclops and gorgon fight off hired goons...

Xavier, Magneto and Apocalypse discuss with world leaders about the implications of krakoa’s policys, with Magneto not hiding his love of flexing his superiority. And Charles ends the confrence, after it’s revealed one hired them in an utterly masterful moment: Taking off his helmet to reveal no this is charles, this is him and that even after they tried assintating him he has and always will love humanity he’s just sick of being treated like crap and suffering for doing it and his people suffering for it and he won’t tolerate this sort of shit again. See it for yourself it’s an absolute triumph:

 It’s a great scene. Overall an utterly great title that really keeps the momentum moving and I feel is only setting up for even more things.. the only real issue is that A) the title’s been slower at coming out than the other dawn of x titles, though in the case of the empyre tie in’s it’s not hteir fault but the rest sure as shit are, and B) that it has mostly been just setup but it’s been good enough and enjoyable enough and I feel payoff is coming, so I truly don’t care. At long last we have a main x-men  book that’s not only fantastic but uttterly engaging and I read most issues multiple times. An utter slam dunk

Giant Sized X-Men: This one is incomplete, so I can’t fully say what the full picture is.. but for the three released so far it’s a mixed bag, though the art in all three is gorgeous as Hickman brought on the best artists in the buisness but it’s telling that while New Mutants bellow had issues that bugged me but was still kinda fun, and the above havem y utter priase I nearly forgot to include these issues. None of them are bad and all have gorgeous art as I said, these are some of the best in the buisness, they feel padded. These were supposed to be annuals, but when they decided to change this to one shots.. they shoudl’ve just made them regular length instead, as there simply isn’t enough story here to fill them and so far only Davis’ issue has both had huge setup (both revealing doug’s fusion with warlock is a secret for some reason and that he is indeed still fully alive and revealing what happened to the x-mansion), and due to Davis background as a writer/artist the pacing to fill one issue and even then it could’ve been trimmed. Not bad and I don’t fault the artists for not being used to being writer/artists or having to do so while also conforming to a larger narriative which likely didn’t help or in the third one’s case having to take over for someone else entirely, but it’s , while not bad no ton par with the two above books and I expect better from hickman. 

New Mutants (HIckman’s Issues)  I’ll cover Brisson’s issues next time as they feel like a diffrent run entirely, but New Mutants was.. a disapointment. I was utterly pumped for this title going in being a huge fan of the team thanks to finally reading the claremont and sikenwitz run and before that re-reading abnett and lannings utterly great run and hey jonathan hickman who’d already done gangbusters was writing it! It had a great roster! 

And it starreed one of hickman’s faviorite mutants and one he’d taken a shine to on avengers, and one of my faviorite superheros, Roberto DeCosta, aka Sunspot. On Avengers hickman took Roberto , already a decent character and made him amazing. He was still rich, young and a playboy as ever.. but he used said wealth and his love of fun wisely. When undercover at an AIM casino instead fo throw down, he offers the agents a free day of partying and gambling on his huge dime, then puts them on payroll as his undercover agents. So to recap Roberto DeCosta won the avengers two valuable double agents in what at the time was one of their biggest threats.. by buying them tons of beer and gambling and presumibly hookers. And later got the loyatly of the rest of AIM through these guys, and when Steve found out tony betrayed him and went off hte deep end hunting him instead of stopping the end of the goddamn world, TOOK OVER AIM HIMSELF IN COMBAT WITH THE AIM SUPREME, and then formed his own avengers. 

Literally. He got his own avengers team, most of which left after the apocalypse but he simply found younger and hungrier replacements, and aim.. with blackjack and hookers. The man is a legend. And knowing Roberto if hookers were actually involved he probably treated them with respect and overpayed them because he’s a class act. Then under Al Ewing’s mighty pen, Roberto not only formed another avengers team since most of the avengers he formed to stop the end of the world were busy elsewhere, of young and great avengers, while dying of the aformentioned death cloud, but became an utterly brilliant chessmaster, only failing ONCE becaue of hydra cap getting into his head while AIM was working for the us goverment towards the end as the USAvengers. And yes that’s a real team. It’s as insane and beautiful as it sounds. And his new avengers once fought american kaiju, a godzilla with a flag painted on it chaning usa. Al Ewing is the best and I love him. But he also became a master stratigest and schemer with schemes within schemes within schemes, his crowning one being faking his own death and using his fake funeral to clear out any remaning enimies in AIm, and only quitting AIM to keep it out of goverment hands and in the hands of a trusted friend. He was and still is one of the best avengers there ever was and ever will be.  But here, as the new mutants go on a road trip to get sam? He’s a fucking dumbass who hires the worst space laywer possible, only gets off trial because Sam and his wife save them, glad they weren’t broken up by the way,  and is utterly useless most of the time. It’s like HIckman forgot the last part of his run.. granted time runs out isn’t very good but still, that wasn’t a good thing to forget and like Hickman wants to ignore ewing’s work for no damn reason, even though Ewing did great things with Roberto and kept him relevant when marvel was choking the x-men to death. It’s fucking embrassing and disapointing to see.  The rest of the New Mutants aren’t much better mostly being happy but also not really acting like themselves, with only mondo really standing out since he gets great moments and hasn’t done anything in a while. And Doug, who I negelcted to mention above is one of my faviorite mutants and thanks to being krakoa’s primary method of commuincation, is now one of krakoa’s most important mutants, has a seat at the council with krakoa, and weirdly has his best friend warlock hiding on his arm for reasons that haven’t been explained yet. In Short doug went from beign forgotten to being used awesomely again. Roberto instead of getting the same is set back as a character and ends the arc deciding to stay in space because he misses sam, and will likely become third in his marriage i’m sure, and wants to bone deathbird, x-men villian and frequent shiar usuper. But while rahne actually being happy is a good sight to behold they , except Dani, really dont’ do much. Though Magik gets a fucking amazing scene where she asks the various assasians sent ot kill them if they want to make out , not only revealing she’s bi, but that she’d prefer that to killing them all but does so when they dumbly refuse .. I mean seriously who, whose not in a relationship that’s open or way older than her, not take her up on that?  The plot their thrust into isnt’ great either, mostly just more setup but not present as well as in x-men about Gladiator giving the shiar empire to xavier’s daughter.. yes charles has a daughter that was created from his and his ex wife lilandra, whose still dead’s dna, and letting DEATHBIRD Of all people teach her instead of his damn self. Xandra taking over isn’t a terrible idea it’s just handeld poorly. It just feels disapointing.. like hickman WANTS to do a JLI style book here but the combination of him only doing one arc and not really wanting to write the characters as they should be, an issue that only pops up here and in the new mutants cameo during x-men proper and not for doug ever, that makes it fall falt.. I mean there are utterly great moments like the above, and hte image i used to lead off their just stifled by misusing roberto and everyone else. 

But overall hickman’s works on x-men  are fucking great, intresting and engaging. I’ve read the issues a ton and will again. One small mistep dosen’t take away from all the large good he’s done and he’s made the franchise feel alive again and hopefully the MCU take on it will take after this run, as it’d be a great way to break from the endless xavier vs magneto battles of the fox universe. So yeah overall 2 great books and a thankfully short misfire, HIckman’s on top. And next time we’ll see who he picked to help him carry the x banner home to us all, and who did well with it and whose stumbled a bit as part two delves into the rest of the dawn of x. For now subscribe for more comics stuff as I plan to get back on that, including I hope a restrospective on the fox era x-men sometime soon, animation reviews, and more fun stuff. And until then, courage.