#the only exception would be someone she's grown attached to

[faramirsonofgondor]

Okay, so I'm just going to throw this at you because I have way too many WIPs on my plate, a document of more than 130K words of ideas, and I just love the way you think on the prompts you've been given. So here we go:

There are so many fics and AUs where someone goes back in time, or just their consciousness, or what not, and they always end up changing things for the better. Sometimes for the worse. Except its always been one of the "good guys". What about one of the "bad guys". Say... Ra's Al Ghul? He goes into the Lazarus pit like he is know to do, but when he comes out it's years earlier. Like everything he's seen and done the past X number of years was a vision given to him by the Pit. His daughter is much, much younger. Damian has not been born. The Detective has not been returned to his city for more than a few years. In his research on his chosen heir he see the headline pertaining to the Wayne Foundation Benefit Circus, realizes it is the day the first child/protege of the Detective comes into the man's life.

Would he allow it? Would he permit Richard Grayson to change the man? To alter what he has always felt Bruce's destiny was? Or would he stop the boy? Save the parents maybe so there's no reason for Bruce to take him in? Would he eliminate the boy along with his parents? Or, would he remember the potential and accomplishments of Richard/Robin/Nightwing and wish to harness that for himself?

Thoughts, if you have any?

OOOOH Ok but how about this: He knows that Dick is the first kid to come into Bruce’s life, but he’s not the only one. Ra’s sees it as Bruce having an adoption problem, and though Dick might’ve been the catalyst there’s no saying how he would react even if he never had Dick. Bruce would be easier to control using variables that Ra’s is already familiar with. So he lets Bruce take in Dick, but he also remembers how Bruce was after Jason died and decides that he should move up the timeline.

Except, Ra’s doesn’t exactly remember everything that went on during Dick’s time as Robin, so most of the things that happen are still the same, except Dick got a lot more scars along the way. He nudges Deathstroke in their direction, remembering the man’s rivalry with Dock and hoping that the man will try to eliminate him. Only, Slade becomes obsessed and decides to train the kid instead (which happened in the last life but Ra’s doesn’t remember it). Once the kid goes back to Bruce, he’s all moody and traumatized, which Ra’s hopes is enough to spur Bruce into killing. It isn’t.

So Ra’s sends Talia like he did last time, not wanting to mess up and lose his heir, but unlike last time, he doesn’t instruct Talia to drive a wedge between Bruce and Dick. Instead, he tells her to make sure that their relationship is better than ever, hoping that if Bruce becomes even more attached to Dick, then losing Dick will hurt more. She does so, but as time goes on, Ra’s starts to realize that Talia has grown attached to Dick. Once she’s pregnant with Damian, he orders her to come back immediately, but he’s surprised to find that she protests vehemently. Eventually, he gets her to come back under the threat that he would kill Dick, her, and her child.

However, once Talia leaves, Dick and Bruce’s relationship starts to take a turn for the worse. Bruce is more controlling in the loss of his lover, not wanting to be left again. Dick is desperate for freedom and independence, fighting against Bruce’s controlling nature. Ra’s tries one last time, having his assassins break Joker out of Arkham so that Dick could get attacked by him and push Bruce into killing him. It doesn’t work, Dick gets shot and leaves and now Bruce is alone.

So Ra’s is just like “fine, guess I’ll just stick to what happened last time” and decides to make sure Bruce adopts Jason and gets him into vigilantism. Except he may have also overshot it slightly because he witnessed the fallout of Bruce and Dick’s relationship, and was like “obviously this man cannot be trusted to handle these kids alone, he needs someone to mediate” and so he lures Dick back into their lives the night after Bruce takes in Jason by leaving some creepy note and photos of Jason and Batman. Dick understandably is like “wtf Bruce” but he warms up to Jason a lot quicker and does eventually end up mediating some conflicts between Jason and Bruce, despite the fact that his relationship with Bruce is still less than stellar.

Of course, Ra’s still wants to push Bruce into breaking his code and into reaching “his full potential” and decides to go with the tried and true method of Jason’s death. He waits til Dick is in space then orchestrates a fight between Jason and Bruce while leaving a trail that will lead Jason to his mother, all while nudging Joker in their direction. Jason dies again, except Joker got to spend much more time with him because of how Ra’s had pushed things along. Bruce can barely recognize his son by the time he gets there.

Ra’s waits in anticipation for Bruce to kill Joker. He watches as Bruce gets more and more violent, more and more reckless, and as he gets closer and closer to crossing the line. Bruce tries to kill Joker, once, but is stopped by Superman. Ra’s still has hope that Bruce will kill Joker (or someone else), especially considering that Bruce and Dick are back to fighting with each other again. Then Tim shows up, and Bruce starts losing his momentum, his temper cools gradually, though not completely. Ra’s wants to scream in frustration, but he’s distracted by Jason’s revival and sudden arrival at Nanda Parbat. He had almost forgotten about that, but decides to use this all to his advantage.

He breaks the Joker again (he really should realize that this method isn’t working for him) and sets up a scenario so that Bruce thinks that Joker killed Tim, then places cameras around the room to show Jason how Bruce reacts. He’s hoping that when Jason sees Bruce’s failure, he’ll be persuaded to lure Bruce towards the “right” path. Except Batman doesn’t get there first. Nightwing does. Ra’s, Talia, and Jason all watched in muted horror/fascination as Dick beats the Joker to death, and then beats him a little more. Maybe Ra’s shouldn’t have underestimated the kid so much.

Batman shows up eventually, and ends up reviving Joker, but Ra’s was already starting to reevaluate his plans. Maybe Batman would never break his rule, but clearly Nightwing could be persuaded. Ra’s spends time reassessing and redoing his plans, and by the time he’s ready to bring Nightwing to Nanda Parbat, the Blockbuster debacle has already happened and the Gang Wars are coming to an end. The girl-Robin dies which gives Ra’s the perfect opportunity to snatch Dick and integrate him into the LoA.

Obviously, Ra’s doesn’t actually snatch him. But he does send some assassins to persuade him to come with them, and fortunately Dick doesn’t need much persuading. Apparently, all his fights with Batman had led to him chucking his morals out the window, which was great for Ra’s plans. Once Dick was in the League, he adapted surprisingly well. It was almost unnerving how well. It rankled Ra’s, how perfect Dick seemed to be. Ra’s could hardly find any mistakes in his fighting ability or intelligence. It was beginning to frustrate him to no end. He even got Deathstroke to train the boy more, and Lady Shiva as well, but Dick quickly surpassed their skill. It seemed as though he was even inventing his own moves and style of fighting? Ra’s wasn’t sure how he could have overlooked such an obvious threat, though for now he did nothing about it considering the boy seemed perfectly happy living under Ra’s thumb. Ra’s was just glad Dick was unaware of Jason’s presence, otherwise shit would get messy real quick.

Unbeknownst to Ra’s, Dick was very much aware of Jason’s presence. See, in another timeline, the first timeline, Ra’s would order his daughter to sew tension between Bruce and his first child, and in doing so, created a decades-long animosity between Talia and Dick. But in this timeline? Ra’s has Talia mediate the relationship between Bruce and his ward, and in doing so, creates an unbreakable bond between Talia and Dick. Talia may have pretended at first, but Dick had wormed his way into her heart, and now she saw him as her first child in a way. He made her want to change, to do better. He was the bright spot in the darkest times of her life. It broke her heart to have to leave him and Bruce, and since that day her hatred for her father grew and grew.

She realized early on that Ra’s was involved in plans to hurt Dick, and she tried her best to intervene when she could. To her horror, Dick was hurt anyways and ended up leaving Bruce. It hurt her heart to see two people she loved more than anything fight the way they did, but she knew Ra’s was mostly to blame, so she settled for revenge. She would wait until Damian grew, then they would end Ra’s together and return to their family (if they were still alive by that point - and Talia desperately hoped they would be).

Jason threw a wrench in those plans, seeing as his presence seemed to help bridge the gap in Bruce and Dick’s relationship. But then he died, and Talia knew, she knew, her father had been behind this. She debated going to Bruce with this information, but she didn’t have enough evidence yet and she wasn’t sure how her beloved would respond. Plus, she needed to know why Ra’s was doing this, what his end goal was, and she wouldn’t be able to figure that out if Bruce decided to act on his anger. She decided to get into contact with Dick instead, seeing as Ra’s wasn’t monitoring him as much as he was Bruce. When she found about Jason’s revival, she told Dick immediately and they started coming up with ideas on how to get him away from Ra’s. Dick understood that for their plans to work, Bruce couldn’t know, though Dick didn’t really like keeping such a big secret from the man. But Bruce tended to get tunnel vision and he had control issues, he would want to be in charge of making the plan and he likely wouldn’t agree with Talia’s plot to kill Ra’s.

It was a bit of a surprise, when Dick killed Joker, but Talia couldn’t really the blame the man. Still, she worried as Dick seemed to get more and more traumatized, and as more and more evil landed on his doorstep. When Dick finally ended up in Nanda Parbat, it took more restraint than she was willing to admit to hold off on embracing him. This would only work if they kept their cover. Still, despite Dick’s competency and clear dangerousness, Ra’s seemed to underestimate them while he poured his time and resources into keeping an eye on Bruce and the third Robin. Dick didn’t interact with Jason, still scared to be found out by Ra’s, but they did pass messages through Talia. Damian had also taken quite the shining to Dick. If it were anyone else, Talia would be envious of the amount of attention Damian gave to him, but this was Dick and so Talia understood completely. Dick had taken to calling Damian “his little Flamebird” in private. Once Talia understood the context behind the name, she felt honored on Damian’s behalf.

However, despite the emotions swirling between them, they still had coup to plan. Talia was both relieved and a bit worried about how easily Dick persuaded people to join them, but then again he had always been a people-person and a good conversationalist. In the end, it was Talia, Dick, Jason, Deathstroke (which Talia did not have the time to question), Lady Shiva, Lady Shiva’s daughter (???), and a little over half of the League that went up against Ra’s. Dick moved with a fluidness and vengeance that Talia had never seen before. As promised, he and Deathstroke gravely injured Ra’s, but left the killing blow up to her.

Ra’s hadn’t seen any of it coming. Here he was bleeding out, watching as Talia approached. His only hope was that his daughter or someone loyal to him would throw him back into the Pit, and he would get another chance. Next time, he would do things differently. Next time, he would kill the brat before Bruce even looked at him. Next time, he would ensure both his daughter’s and Bruce’s total submission to him, and him alone. Next time, he would-

There was no next time, because before Ra’s could even finish his thought, his head was at Talia’s feet. Things were different, now. Talia was softer, but no less determined. Dick was sharper, more jaded, but no less kind and loyal. Bruce was darker, but no less loving. Jason was angrier, more traumatized, but no less protective and caring. They might have more trauma, more hurt and pain and and scars anger and darkness within them, but they were a family, and they were all willing to try for each other.

[mimi--writes]

Forever Mine

—"Don't leave me..."

—In which the television you see in your dreams doesn't want you to wake up.

A/N: Someone needed to make a Yandere Tenna fic and I guess it's got to be me. See my vision, I beg of you.

CW: Yandere, Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping

——————————————————————————

The Dreemurr family's divorce is a town wide scandal, the 'incident' causing it forever an unspoken haunt to the townspeople.

To you, however, it's the reason you got this nifty little free TV.

It's cool—works just fine, though it has some parental restriction codes that were quite the inconvenience to get through, but it's free. That's right. Zero dollars. You just visited Miss Toriel one day like you thought any good neighbor would. And luckily for you, she asked if you could take her television off her hands, because no one in the family used it anymore, and it just brought back memories she didn't want.

So you helped Miss Toriel and got a free TV. Sweet.

It sits in your house, affectionately nicknamed "Tenna"—because of its long antennae that almost seem to squirm when you touch them. You know it is far from the most modern form of entertainment, but it is entertainment nonetheless, and besides—you've reluctantly grown attached to this television. Late nights on the couch, just you and it, have become commonplace. Sometimes, you even fall asleep.

And on one of those nights, the dreams begin.

You are in a place so dark it's light again—bright, saturated colors in checkered patterns marking the floors, infomercials everywhere, and tons of little flyers with the same fuzzy TV silhouette your eyes can briefly make out.

Okay, what kind of fever dream this is, you don't even know. Might as well just make the best of it.

You pick up a flyer.

"Coming Straight From Your House—Mr. (Ant) Tenna's Marvelous Mystery Board!"

Some sort of game show- wait, did that flyer just talk?

There is suddenly a spotlight on you.

"That's right!" Continues the voice, with the same chipper yet even timbre of a gameshow host. From the wall behind you pops out-

A man with a television head.

A very hot man with a television head.

You would be remiss not to admit it, really. Sure, he does, well, you know, but the TV-head is really just a bonus! On top of that surprisingly charming suit and nice ass, the TV-head fills your brain with ideas that make you wonder if you are deranged.

You decide not to give them the time of day just yet.

Meanwhile, the man with the television head continues to race about his gameshow.

"Special prizes, physical challenges, and more, only on-"

"I'm in," you say, and for all his bravado, the television man—Mister Ant Tenna from the poster, wait, your TV is named Tenna, wait, are you seriously dreaming about your TV as a hot gameshow host—startles noticeably, antennae going ramrod straight.

"You are?" He says. You nod.

"Uh, yeah. Seems cool."

He claps his hands with excitement, and suddenly, a thermometer appears on screen, immediately cracking with excitement.

"Magnificent! Splendid! The Fun-O-Meter's off the chart folks! Mike, play the applause!"

And pre-recorded applause ensues. You wonder if anyone is actually watching. Except no one is watching, because this is a dream.

You go through the motions—play the games, win the prizes. You get Z Rank, because you have what many would call a massive skill issue. But Tenna does not mind, regarding you with the patience of a saint.

The credits roll, but Tenna seems hesitant.

"Maybe- another round?" He suggests. You nod.

"When I come back," you say, before he can get the wrong idea. "Every good show needs an intermission.'

With that, you leave your dream, certain that it really was just that. A one time dream.

But then, the next late night on the couch comes, and you find yourself in that same dream once again.

Tenna's antennae droop as he speaks to you in private afterwards.

"You sure took a lot time!" He says, trying to sound cheery. It fails, though, considering the way he shrinks in discontent. "It's alright though, I get it. It was fun enough, just me and the board- I've- never been good company anyways, and-"

He's trying so hard to sound alright with it that it just makes you feel even more guilty. His antennae droop, and you avert your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the guilt from stabbing at your heart. It doesn't work.

"You're great company," you say, in lieu of asking how come it was just him and the board when he has all those employees under him. "You know what? I'll stay as many rounds as you want! Seem fair?"

Immediately, he perks up, rapidly growing in excitement, antennae perked back up.

"Absolutely wonderful!" He says. The Fun-O-Meter once again explodes. Applause roars as Tenna starts rambling.

You play and play as many bonus rounds as you can until Tenna is something akin to satisfied. At last, you wake up.

You have slept through the entire day. Angry messages await you, as a result of obligations miserably unfulfilled. You don't even want to check them.

But you do. Typing out responses and making amends.

You wish you were back there, in that dream of yours.

So you stay by the television and fall asleep once more.

And once again, Tenna greets you.

"You came by faster today, darling!" He says. You find yourself liking the nickname, if only because it is him saying it.

You nod.

"That I did."

"Miss me?" He asks, and if he had eyes you just know he'd be batting them innocently.

"No," you start, trying to set up some sort of coy flirtation, but you immediately regret it when he visibly deflates.

"Oh," he says. "I- should have seen that coming. I mean, hah, you're absolutely stellar, darling, and I'm... Just..."

"I- I didn't mean it!" You hastily amend. "I was just joking. Really, I don't even know what I was thinking; I'm sorry!"

He smiles at that, placing a tentative arm on your shoulder.

"You-" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. "You won't mind if I do this, then?"

And before you can ask what he means, he's pressing a fiery, impassioned kiss to your lips.

It's half-loving, gentle, like you are the most precious thing he has ever held within his arms, half an act of possession, like he wants to lay claim to you in a way no one else can. The possessive half is carried out guiltily, you can tell, the way he gently licks at all the bites he leaves, consoles you when you yelp at the little electric shock he gives.

You've never wanted anything more.

The kiss ends, and you find a gutted sob escaping you. Tenna startles.

"Was that not alright, darling?"

"This- This can't be a dream," you say. You feel pathetic, longing for a relationship conjured up in a fantasy like this. A man born from your own furniture, who obsesses over your happiness like it is his sole priority. That can't be what you want, and yet it is. "Please don't let this be a dream."

You suddenly feel a comforting hand on your back, the touch initially sending a shock down your spine."

"It's not a dream," Tenna says, breath tickling your ear. You can only hope he's right.

You wake up with a start, dreading the day.

——————————————————————————

The relationship of your dreams is half fantasy, half nightmare. Tenna is a sweetheart, indeed he is, always fretting over your every concern and comfort, letting your worries melt away with his games and challenges.

And then sometimes he'll snap, scold you or break, and mere moments later, he'll be on his knees, begging not to leave.

"Please stay," he begs you one night, the blow of the wind that should have been pleasant chilling you to your very core. "You're all I have. Please-"

"I will," you nod, gulping. He doesn't believe you, face contorting into its familiar motion, and regardless of having no eyes, it's oh-so expressive that it immediately makes you shoot up with dread.

"Say you love me," he whispers, shaking you with a manic sort of feel. "Say it."

"I love you."

"I don't believe you."

"I- I love you," you say. "Please."

And like some sort of trance has been broken, his head jerks, the hands that were only just shaking you now cradling with the gentleness you normally know.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing reverently as if that'll prove anything. "Don't leave me. Please."

You know you won't. You can't. You'll keep waking up later and later in the day, letting him take more and more out of your time. He is greedy, absolutely ravenous when it comes to you, and he'll devour you whole if that's what you offer.

And yet you offer yourself whole anyways, because you just can't say no.

Time passes. It's all a blur. You remember less and less of your day to day activities, and more and more of your dreams. Of Tenna, sweet and charismatic and pleadingly manic the next. How he beckons for you to stay even when the ring you now recognize as your alarm screams for you to wake up.

And how could you not, when his kisses are so inviting?

It all comes to a head one night.

"Stay," he murmurs, serving you dinner. You sigh.

"You know I will," you say.

"Not like that," he says. "Stay here. Forever."

"For- ever?"

Your eyes widen as the implication of his words catches up to you all too late.

These dreams- no- they're-

"I have a life back outside," you say, panicking as his antennae twitch in displeasure.

"Then you'll leave me to rot...?" He asks, falsely resigned. You gulp. You know him better by now. You know how intelligent he is. How assured.

He knows exactly what you'll say, that he knows you know but you'll do it anyways, damnit-

"That's not what I mean," you say. He sighs.

"Of course you can tell yourself that!" He says. "I really am insignificant... Just a tryst-"

"I'll stay," you say at last, acquiescing as you always have. He beams, kissing you like a touch-starved puppy, and you forget yourself for a few moments.

As far as any of your friends and family know, you will never wake up again.

But as far as you know, intoxicated by the seemingly permanent love in the air, you are the most awake you have ever been.

[richeeduvie]

Sooo…Wedding Bells Part 3? 👀

Wedding Bells (Part Three)

Stewy H. x Reader, Roman R. x Reader (complicated), Kendall R x Reader (minor, minor as in what Baby was when she was groomed by him) hope ya'll enjoyyyyy!!!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

PART ONE PART TWO AUTHOR MASTERLIST

For more (since the masterlist isn't properly updated) you can always just search up "#dogandbone!au" or "#roman roy x reader" and so on for more! <3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Roman (and his stomach) can no longer be held back by you. With Stewy's growing boldness, it's impossible to convince him that he's just a wedding date, after the kiss - after tonight...you can't help but attempt to assure yourself too, even as the idea that you don't want to boils. And boils. And boils.

And there's still much more of the night to go.

Knowing the aspects of the "DogandBone!AU" do help add content to both parts of this story, but you do not need to read anything prior to understand it. If you would like to, you can go onto my masterlist linked and browse through the masterlists/content of my succession characters. All are content for DAB!AU. Or you can simply search up the tag.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

You are so beautiful. It’s sickening, really. How dare you? 

You’ve always been beautiful to Stewy, except when you were a kid, of course. You know why? Because you were a kid. You were disgusting as much as you were sweet to him. That’s just how kids are. Then you stopped being forteen. You were twenty. Then…you were twenty-five. Twenty-nine. Thirty. And you were beautiful, but there was nothing Stewy attached to the word. You were beautiful the way a beach is beautiful. He doesn’t plan on sticking his cock in the sand anytime soon. 

But something has decided to take him. It is very, very unproductive. And annoying. But what do you deserve? Another Roman? God, he’d rather shoot himself in the head than deny himself his feelings for the sake of…Roy-ethnic mental illness? Well. No, it wouldn’t be for the sake of it, right? Stewy, if he was a Roy, would be denying himself his feelings for you like a petulant fuck until he hurts you. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking so far ahead. He only just started thinking you’re beautiful like five or so hours ago. Maybe Stewy could play this like it’s pure attraction. He’s a grown man. Attraction isn’t feelings - realizing you’re a hot woman isn’t feelings. But also, maybe thinking like this gets him one step closer to denying everything outright. Like a Roy. They love their childish games. Stewy loves that nearly just as much.

It’s mature and sensible to and deserved for him to never deny himself of what he wants, what he’s discovered, but it’s also mature and sensible to move on from it. He’s not going to leak at the sight of you. Probably.

“Stewy?”

Stewy’s head snaps to you.

No. Silly him. His head snaps to your hand on his bicep. It’s soft, of course. Why wouldn’t it be? 

“Yes, princess?” 

“You okay? You’re zoning out a bit.” 

Was he? “Mm. I was just wondering why you’re not up there with the fam-a-lee.” 

Maybe he’s filling himself with hubris - going against everything he says about his lack of feelings…because he makes the choice to run his fingers through your hair. Deliberately. It’s not mindlessly, or out of habit as if he’s done it with other women (maybe he has?). It’s a complete decision pressed against his fingers. 

Jesus Christ. Stewy doesn’t care to pretend that he’s not in control of himself, that his skin goes gooey when you blush at him. That doesn’t mean he has to embrace it with open arms and legs.

But that doesn’t mean he has to stop and find a blonde at someone else's bachelor party so his Daddy can give him kissies. 

Stewy smiles. Okay. Rome doesn’t deserve that bone of harshness. Especially after he puked his fucking skeletal system up. What the hell was that about? 

“Goddaughter titles don’t get you a seat with the bride and groom. Kendall and Rome aren’t gonna be up there. And Connor.”

“Yeah, but I always thought since Shiv was, I don’t know…was she not in love with you for the majority of her budding womanhood?” Stewy blinks at himself, then at the bride and groom table. “Was that pedophilic?” 

Your little, now excruciatingly beautiful face twists in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?” 

“Oh. Of course you were oblivious to the feelings happening amongst your budding womanhood. Ew. Fuck.” 

He smiles at you. No teeth included. 

This is nice. This, being right here next to you, makes him feel good. Chilled - and to be vulnerable like this…somehow this would end up in Logan Roy calling him a fag, to allow his emotions for you fall over him, not under. This is not about trying to get you to blush at him, although as he said…he really likes that. 

Fuck. Maybe Stewy just doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t know what the fuck to do about this, and he’s still touching your hair like he does. But there's a, what? What is he going to call it? A twinkle in your eye? He can handle this if you suddenly find him beautiful too. 

You do, right? He’s sure. He will especially not know what to do if you don’t. But you definitely found him beautiful in the way a beach is before this. Or maybe heaven. He’ll take either. 

What the fuck is he going to do about the sudden you spread along his heart?

“I look good tonight, right? I look as good as I smell?” 

“I haven’t told you yet?” 

“Absolutely not. I would’ve remembered. Kept it right here.” Stewy gestures to his heart, palm flat on his chest. 

“Ohhh. Sorry. You almost look as good as you smell.” 

Stewy smiles. 

“How dare you.” 

Maybe he can figure it out, he’s smart, after all. This is all dependent on you at the end of the day. Even before, when you were just…platonically beautiful, you deserve to pick who and how you’re going to fuck. Or make love. Or hold hands. Whatever it is you do. 

“What are we going to do after this?” 

“After the toasts? Eat. And then dance. Maybe you shouldn’t dance?” 

A beat. 

What? 

“Maybe I shouldn’t dance? Um…Princess,” Stewy puts an arm around your shoulders to pull you in. “You’ve seen me fuck a dancefloor to pieces.” 

You keep yourself blushed before you smile, as you’ve always have. Nothing new. 

Jesus Christ. Fuck me.

“We can dance.” 

“Okay. After?” 

“After? I mean…we go back to our rooms.” 

Okay. Even if that’s not what you want. Okay, because Stewy wants to go back to separate rooms. That’s easy to decide if you want to go back to separate. 

Even if he can tell you don’t want to. He’s sure that’s that softening look on your face. And what does that mean for him? Nothing. Or maybe something. Fuck him at this point. 

But Stewy can see your face softening into a pout that’s almost…guilty. No. Uncomfortable. 

Fuck. Did he make you uncomfortable? Do you really just want to go back to separate rooms? Has he been imagining the flirtations in between the banter? Fuck.

He’s sorry, Princess. He’ll definitely let it go now. 

“Hey.” 

Stewy takes his arm away from your shoulders. He smiles and it’s genuine, but he doesn’t have to crash and burn at the first feeling of…feeling shitty, to act as if he has to put a bullet in his mouth because what does that do? You’re bound to notice, and with what he’s noticed with you and Roman…you’ll feel the need to soothe him for something he did. 

He pokes her bicep. 

“Okay. We go back to our rooms. Okay.” 

“...Okay.” 

There it is. That smile.

Seriously. Fuck him. 

Maybe tension can just stay tension. Stewy’s sly, but apparently not sly or observant enough to know if it goes both ways. He doesn’t need to feel so guilty to the point of having you slave over said guilt. 

With that, why does he go back to when you fourteen at the club with him and Kendall? It’s a memory that hits him…vividly. A beautiful shitload of strobing colors over and under the anger that was his when Kendall, love him always, kept bringing you to snort and drink and crush? 

Stewy blinks at you. And speak of the devil. 

He blinks up at Kendall. 

“Hello, Roy Boy. Haven’t seen you shed one tear yet your little sister growing up and throwing it back on the name Wambsgans.” 

Okay. Ken’s not in the mood. Or…Jesus, he’s in one. Come on, not even gonna crack a smile? 

“Hey, Kendall.” 

Kendall’s eyes shift from Stewy to you. “We need to talk, Stewy.” 

Stewy sucks his teeth with humor. “If this is about…you know, what will have you set for life, then it can wait until your sister and Tom have their first dance-” 

“We need to talk now, Stew. Get up. Please.” Huh. 

Seriously. Okay. What the fuck? Stewy looks to Kendall, then to you just as confused as him. 

“Stewy. Please. Get up.” 

“Okay. Okay. Calm yourself and your clit, Kendall.” Stewy gets up because they need to talk, but he turns back to you in your chair before he’ll let Kendall take him away. “Don’t leave me, I’ll kill myself. Something like that.” 

That sounds like words you're familiar with. 

You smile wide. With teeth. It’s somehow even more pretty than the last smile, but it feels a waste to say “What the fuck?” at this point.

“I’ll try to keep you mentally well from right here.” 

“Alright.” He turns. “...Wait. Hold on.”

He turns back as if he’s forgetting something, because how could he forget?

Stewy takes your hair in his hand. He moves his nose along the strands as he pulls himself away.

You smell pretty. Women have a habit of doing that, women like you have a habit of wearing specific, expensive brands to make you do that. But you right now? At this moment. For the whole fucking night. 

What the fuck. 

Stewy rolls his shoulders. Maybe he isn’t humble enough to admit that it was chills. They were chills at the simple act of sniffing you. Your perfume is fading away anyway, what’s under it isn’t. But it’s not like he’s a fucking wolf. But if he was, he’d be an omega. Probably. 

“Alright, Ken. What do you want?” 

He’s followed Kendall into this dim little hallway that probably leads to the bathroom. For no reason, apparently. Kendall’s not talking, he’s just doing that thing where his head goes low and he blinks at you like you just shot his dog. Stewy knows his best friend so well. 

“What the fuck, man? What the actual fuck?” 

Stewy’s brows go down quickly, eyes blinking just as quick. Yeah. What the fuck? Okay, Ken. He’s not as angry as he’s confused yet, but Stewy’s not playing the guessing game to just be berated at a wedding. 

“Okay, Kendall…I’m just going to ask you something. I want a simple answer before you start throwing your…tantrum. I can accept the tantrum if I get the answer?” 

Kendall’s arm goes up, pointing out into the reception.

“You’re fucking her?”

…Jesus fuck. 

“Woah! What the fuck, dude? Calm down. Actually. I won’t play with the humor and suave you know me so well for…I’ll just question and tell you that…no? No. Kendall? No, man. She’s my date. Or–I’m hers. That’s one–” 

“Yeah? I’m gonna believe that? You want me to believe that?” 

“Yes. Jesus Christ, Kendall.” Everything’s said with a disbelief on his throat. “But even if I was, I don’t understand how that would warrant your eyes bulging at me. Like, dude - they’re going to pop. Why are you going to pop?” 

Kendall shakes his head. 

“Can you blink, please?” 

“Because–cause…she’s…” 

Stewy waits. Wades. Jerks his head forward. It’s always something with his best friend. “She’s…yeah?” 

“She’s her, Stewy. She’s her.” 

Oh. Okay. Perfect. That makes no fucking sense. Stewy scoffs at how it perfectly makes no fucking sense. 

Except…sure. Maybe it does. Fuck him ten times over if that. You’re you. Maybe he’d be more passionate in his request for a single over separate room if you were anybody else. But he wouldn’t be feeling like…this if you were anybody else. Seriously, this would be easier if you were all wolves. 

But Stewy can see you from here. It’s too easy to not have it any other way. He could smile something smuggish, worthy of a punch to his pretty face at it. 

“Yeah? You’re right. She is her.” 

Seriously, Kendall – just blink. And when you do, blink an average amount of blinks.

“Is this, like, the first time you wanted to?” 

Stewy doesn’t blink. He doesn’t close his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Do I have to worry about that? Do I have to look back on all the times before when she was a kid-” 

Whatever was smug on Stewy? It’s burnt to a fucking crisp. What in the actual fuck is wrong with him?

“Kendall. Let’s take this conversation down a level, because I am not doing…that. What the fuck, Ken? Don’t play it like you’re a supercilious Chris Hansen.” “I don’t know who that is and what? You can’t blame me for thinking the question–” 

“I can, actually. I wasn’t the one bringing her–” 

Stewy takes a breath. It doesn’t have to go there. He doesn’t have to burn Kendall in the fire too. 

“What, Stewy? Like, yeah…why are you–are you questioning me now? I’m not the one eating her hair.”

He doesn’t have to hurt his asshole dumbfuck of a friend just because he feels defensive. It’s not even defensiveness. It’s pure confusion, but you were not his friend when you were fourteen. You were the kid his actual friend brought around for some reason, and even now, he’d prefer those memories to be coke dreams because you were fourteen in those clubs and what was Stewy? In college, or just before - all that and someone who was annoyed with you. And he didn’t stop anything. 

And like that, a conversation in a bathroom hallway becomes way too fucking serious. Aching. 

“I would want to rip my skin off every goddamn time you brought her to some club or some…event where teenagers are not allowed to be and it wasn’t because of the laced coke.  You know why? Because she wasn’t my friend. She is now, because she’s in her early thirties and she’s not an oversized toddler I have to make sure stays un-overdosed. So. I’m pretty sure you know, Ken, that if this is a time where I want to do whatever it is you think I want to do with her, it is absolutely the first fucking time.”

Kendall stares at Stewy. He stares at Kendall. 

Well. That explains the whole of it. Suddenly, he feels a lot better at…whatever it is he wants to do with you, Princess. 

He pats Kendall’s shoulder. 

“It is very, very nice to know that you trust and love me enough to accuse me of pedophilia.” 

“I just wanted to make sure, Stew.” 

“I’m going now. Tell the kids I said hi.” 

Stewy goes, leaving Kendall in the dim light, but he wouldn’t know what he looks like in the hall. After that? He can’t even claim it’s unfortunate to feel relief at the sight of you waiting patiently for him. Why would he do that to you? Pretend, even for the sake of a tease. 

With how he can see Roman approaching you with that pitiful, after-puke look in his eyes, you’re going to need as much genuine, comforting truth that tells you you’re the first sign of light for someone as you can get.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

There were a couple of oh no’s throughout the wedding you didn’t want to ruin. Or disrupt at the very least.

“Can we, like, talk? Right now.” 

“Roman. Shiv and Tom are about to walk in–” 

You watched his hands shake. With the way he didn’t point it out to guilt, you instantly knew the reaction was something he was ashamed of. 

…Did he throw up because of you and Stewy–

“Come on. Please. Get up. Come to the table where me and Tabitha are sitting so you can just tell me this is you being a 24-hour whore or that you’re renting and Stewy and you know what? I’ll accept that–” 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of warm, big hands on your shoulders placed with a kiss on top of your head. It’s like you were being caught. But what was the crime? 

“What have you two been up to while I’ve been loitering the toilets?”

There must’ve been one, because you felt it in the rush of your heart and Roman’s unblinking stare. The twitch of his head and neck.

“I knew it.” 

“Roman–” 

“I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it. I fucking–”And he cut off. And you didn’t say anything after. Nothing of routine, instinct. The familiar impulse that’s usually instant at the childish, frustrated twist of Roman’s face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so frustrated, and he wasn’t embarrassed enough to hide it from Tabitha as she came over. 

“Fuck! I fucking–”

“Rome? You okay?” 

Roman pushed a chair. It scraped itself all the way to the floor as he walked off, hands pulling at the hair on the back of his head.

…But you felt embarrassed, because you were–are the cause of all of his hurt, and he’s not even yours, but Stewy pretended as if it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to happen during the evening. He simply picked the chair back up and sat back on his own. 

“When’s cake?”

It’s really, for the time in your life, moments of distress for Roman you don’t soothe over. Moments you have no desire to soothe. For the most part, but even with the pathetic inklings of wanting to make Roman feel better, wanting to be the one he goes to make him feel better that you feel foolish for…it’s this new, hot white guilt at how they’re only inklings now. How quickly everything’s become small. Smaller. Weaker in the relationship you don’t have with him. 

Or. The guilt is better placed with how you almost burn easily under the fire that is his suffering - but that’s always been you and him, hasn’t it? He likes it when you like how he’s hurt. But there is no you and him. So. What’s the consensus? 

Everything’s too fucking confusing. Conflicting. And it doesn’t help that Stewy’s handsomeness is only just conventional, that his charm isn’t something to roll your eyes at - it’s something you want to pursue, but fuck, you freeze up at a simple touch from him. Is that something to feel pathetic for? Because you’re not a teenager? Because you’re a grown woman who should be able to just figure out what she wants and treat simple touches as if you’re not falling head over ass first? 

Dancing with Stewy under the lights, you don’t know what’s worse, those touches are simply touches and you’re left alone in the feeling, in the buzz of it all, or that Stewy’s actually managed to like you. 

Fuck it. You’ll still hope that the changes in his looks, the way it lingers, or this tension is something you’ve made up in your head. It is something you’ve made up in your head. It wouldn’t be crazy to think that you're desperate for even the idea that someone that isn’t Roman finds you attractive to bed. At least he finds you fun enough to dance with. 

Again. Remember. Ignore the buzz of it all and you’ll get through Stewy being your date. 

“Fuck yes. Fuck this fucking song. In a lovemaking sort of way. Come on, jam! I’ve seen you twerk it out before.” 

“Stewy.” 

“Yes?” 

“Never say twerk it out again.”

Jesus. Stewy really is jamming it out. But he is smooth with it. Smooth in the shoulders. You try to follow. “I guess I have no choice but to listen to you.” 

“No, no you don’t.” 

You smile, head tilting up into his. 

When did you get close enough to be spinned? You’re spun by Stewy. Once. Twice. Over and over and over again. 

“Why are you trying to fling my brain out of my skull?” 

“Um. I’m trying to loosen your bones? Make you show some teeth. Jesus Christ.” In the instant, the man in front of you’s bent over, breathing out hard. “I need you to tighten my bones.” 

You tilt your head. “How?” 

Stewy breathes out hard one more time, hands takes yours before he steadies himself into shimmying his shoulders again. 

“That’s up to you. I’m your date because you’re in love with me, and I’m kind. Everything that happens tonight is up to you.” 

You almost still. 

That’s a scary fucking thought. That is especially a scary sort of power you shouldn’t have, it’s a thought you have as the music slows into another song.

“Like right now.” 

You didn’t realize you weren’t looking at Stewy until your eyes shifted back to his face, his face…soft? The way it stands out on him is…

Beautiful. For a second and the next, you’re not looking to Roman at his table, sitting the way he was during Shiv and Tom’s first dance, and the toasts, and dinner, and cake – and now. Back bent, face almost emotionless, which means he’s only twitching or tilting his head ever so slightly, which means his thoughts are too heavy. That he feels as if his head is going to fall off if he moves it further or quicker than how he’s moving it now. 

“Sweet-tart. Hey.” 

“Sorry. What?” 

“You wanna go back to the table and stuff yourself with the last pieces of cake or kill me by making me go through this song?” 

You blink. 

“Up to you.” 

Because when has anything ever been up to you? 

Stewy blinks, sighing out loud and dramatically. It’s all familiar as he looks around. You think he’s deciding for you, even if he’s saying otherwise.

You try your best to hide your shiver when his hand intertwines with yours, the other on your waist. 

He sways. He makes you sway. 

“...Wow, Stewy – you’re almost good enough for prom.” 

Back and forth on each foot, he smiles without teeth at you as he spins the both of you slowly. Very slowly. It’s a slow dance, and you’re wishing he picked the cake because in the slowness of it all, you can feel every tingle down your spine with every squeeze on your waist. 

But he gave you the chance. So…

“I wish I could say the same about you.” 

Oh well. 

You inhale light…but you inhale all the air in the world when Stewy puts his face into your neck, like this is not a simple touch, like your heart is about to burst. 

You’re hoping it is, you’re wishing it’s not. 

The spin reaches a 180, it’s where the both of you just sway, you can’t see the way Roman doesn’t stare at you, only the way he stares into the table picking at what’s hopefully not his skin.

“Hey, after this, I have to be on standby for a bit.” 

“Is this what you and Kendall were talking about?” 

“What he took me away from you for? No. Not at all, but this is for Kendall. For the company.” 

You’re surprised at the cryptic honesty, like you don’t work for Logan Roy and what he’s talking about sounds like something Logan Roy would piss all over. 

“Okay. I’m just an assistant–” 

“An assistant of worlds, like a fucking nepo-baby badass.” 

“Hey.” 

He kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry.” 

You feel yourself twitch. You feel him still before he bumps you. 

“Hey. I am sorry. I’ve been taking the one time you’ve allowed a kiss for every kiss. I’m greedy.” 

“No!”Jesus fucking Christ. “No. I’m sorry, just–I don’t have a say in how Waystar leans, but will I still have a job after you and Kendall do whatever you’re going to do.” 

“I wouldn’t put you out of a job. No. Don’t worry, but the Roys are definitely calling a family meeting. Poor Shiv.” 

“Poor Shiv indeed.”

Silence sits after that, or, the silence of the both of you under the music. You close your eyes. 

The guilt over Roman isn’t gone, the feeling of patheticness isn’t gone - nothing is gone and everything is conflicting and yes and no and Stewy is too beautiful and you’re still comparing his beauty to Roman, and neither of their beauty belongs to you, but you close your eyes. You’re relaxed. It’s needed. It’s perfect. 

You don’t if it’s because you can’t see Roman even if you had your eyes open or if it’s because of the way you feel in Stewy’s arms. You don’t know what one or the other means.

“You are beautiful. Weird.” 

“...Huh?”

But it’s beautiful for the while it lasts, you’re thankful that he’s let you have it. 

And for three seconds, you don’t know what’s taken it away, but you feel Stewy nearly thrown back from you.

“Okay–fucking Christ!” 

Roman’s pulled him by the fucking collar. 

“Roman!” 

You can already feel a crowd turning its eyes on you. 

“What the fuck, man?” 

Roman doesn’t blink, he simply points to Stewy. “Oh. You don’t have a quip? You don’t have something to prove you’re stoic and sly towards pale-palmed me before you fuck my bestfriend?” Then to you, your name on his tongue is false, pitchy confusion – face showing just the same. “He doesn’t have a quip. How are you going to get your pussy wet for him now?” 

Stewy rubs his neck. 

“This is your sister’s wedding. Really?” 

“Roman.” 

You will not let the tears come, not when your fists flex and your face burns first. 

This isn’t just a lack of need to comfort him, this is the almost unfamiliar need to make him shut the fuck up. 

What is wrong with him? Why is he doing this? 

“Can we at least move this off the floor?” 

You quickly glance to where Shiv and Tom sit, you think they’ve gotten sight, but they couldn’t know what’s happening. Same for Logan. And Caroline. And Tom’s parents. 

“Please. Seriously.” 

Roman throws his palms up before you hear footsteps. “Why? This is where you and Hosseini use slow dancing at my sister’s wedding–yes, my sister’s wedding, I know that! So, fuck you–this is where you and her and you and him use slow dancing as foreplay.” Roman laughs high, closed lips.

You used to tease him in arguments, he sounds like an angry tea kettle. Or gnome. 

“Hey, you guys. What’s happening over here? Everything okay? How’s my…how’s my favorite employee doing? Rome?” 

Tom’s made it quickly over to the dance floor, you can tell his hands don’t know what to do, but Roman flinches even before his new brother-in-law has a chance to touch his shoulder. “We’re moving! We’re moving, Groom. Off to the side.” 

“What’s going on-” 

“Tom. Seriously. Go bend over for Shiv.” 

You all move over to the side. Tom sidles away to his seat. You breathe in. 

“I’m leaving–”

“I tugged on you, Stewy. What was I going on about? Oh yeah, your foreplay. How vanilla. How fucking boring. You–what?” 

Roman’s smug rage drops for a second. Only a second at your eyes catching his. He swallows. You couldn’t feel bad that he feels bad. Is that progress or a negative here?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like what, Rome? I’m angry because this is Shiv’s wedding and you’re making fools out of us for what? Because I danced with him?” 

You feel a hand take yours. 

“Oh, Jesus fuck!” Roman laughs with his mouth open this time. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself or argue. You can leave. Right now.” 

“Oh! Stewy…what the fuck? Are you actually pretending like you don’t wanna bend her over as a show of dominance–” 

“Go ahead. Be gross in front of everybody that might have even the slightest shred of respect for you. And then go be a sad little nobody before you choke somebody else out again because…your friend danced with her date. Maybe, Ro-Ro-”

Roman chuckles. You can tell. It’s all the fire within him. But Stewy runs his tongue over his teeth, eyes rolling with a smile dropping, if a smile was ever there. 

“Maybe, you can do a poll to see if people will side with you? Let’s see how many guests would think you seriously after you pulled on my collar like I’m a rabid dog which, you look like the biter, but I digress, let’s just see if they actually see you with some fucking merit after you break up a slow dance because I danced with my date. And I don’t need to monologue to defend or explain myself or quip. I can just leave this situation because, what the fuck do you think this is? Are you still in middle school?” 

Stewy turns to you. 

“Is this a military school habit–” 

Stewy’s pushed.

Roman pulls at his hair after his push. Hard. You sniffle, eyes lowering, burning at the thought that he feels like he can do this, burning at the thought that everyone’s watching him do it. 

“Fuck! Sorry. I–this is like…this is–” 

You can feel his eyes on you. 

“This is your fault. I can’t feel…normally.” 

You feel Stewy squeeze your hands. 

“Leave. Or…” You look up, watching him shake his head as he eyes the room. “It’s up to you. But I’m leaving. I’m sorry I can’t defend you, but you know it is the adult thing to leave. We can talk. Or not.” 

“...Stop talking to her.” 

You think Roman’s saying it softly, hurt – his hands still pulling on his hair. You hope he pulls it out. You hope you can sew him back together. Inkling against inkling. 

“But I’m leaving…hey. Hey.”

What Stewy says, he says it softly too, like he’s talking to a wounded animal. 

“Let’s go.” 

You blink. 

You taste the tears you didn’t know you were crying. 

You look up to Roman, his face soft in his own hurt, but he’s waiting, like there’s a punishment ready for him. But you don’t have anything, nothing but a question. And it’s not the adult thing to say before the adult thing to do. It doesn’t make you sound thirty, or forteen. 

It makes you sound like a child. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” 

Roman stares at you after you ask it. You sound like you’re eight years old. 

“...You–you promised me that he wasn’t anything.” 

He sounds like he’s nine. It’s even softer, somehow. You close your eyes. 

It really is all your fault. Always. Never his. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, can you, like–where are you going? Fuck you. I’m sorry. Just, I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't blast you on the floor. Hey–”

You walk quickly with Stewy at your hand, his hand in yours before he takes it away to rub your back. Your head stays down, but you don’t think Tabitha’s at their table. You don’t know where Kendall is. You don’t want to see anyone ever again. 

But the familiarity of Roman, in the rage of the both of you, is vivid. Even as you leave the reception building, moving out into the dark of the night, you see only him. You can imagine him crying under strobing lights, and he’s never embarrassed, and he always is. And he’s never sorry, and he always is. 

And he’s still right before you as tears well up quicker, this image of him in a salty blur. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

The grass crunches underneath the both of you. 

You couldn’t figure out how Roman’s image disappears with the blink of your eyes. 

As tears are wiped away. 

“Fucking bastard. What a bitch. Don’t go leaky on me. But, actually..fuck. Fuck him! I’m embarrassed for both of us.” ” 

Stewy wipes away more of your tears. 

“He is so fucking shameless…” He flicks his hand, flinging the droplets away. You’re comforted. You’re soothed…like it was this easy for you. Huh. 

“Is that what a man needs to do to get with you?” 

You choke on the laughter as much as the tears. Through the red, under the stars, you see him smile at you as he pulls his arm around your shoulder. 

You don’t know if he’s bringing you to your room or his. You don’t know if you’re ready. But Stewy said, in all this kisses and teases and hands against yours. He said it. 

It’s up to you.

[onlyhereforpazzi]

Let me be your rock 🪨 (get to because my last name is stone.. I have crippling debt..)

Warnings: NSFW contains smut (finger A!r Eating out p! Scissoring) angst mentions of running away from home.

A sort of fluffy fic :)

Enjoy :)

It started off small. Sharing little moment’s in Azzi’s room, hugs from behind, little pecks to the cheek, cuddling late at night, long welcoming hugs that were a bit more than just friendly, and hand holding everywhere they went. Azzi’s dad Tim would make jokes that Paige and Azzi were attached to the hip since birth, Paige would just laugh at that. But then they got risky with the end of the year coming soon they felt and needed to rush things, Azzi became just as clingy as Paige and they got a lot less demure with their touches and acts of effect.

 Paige laid next to Azzi in her queen size bed rubbing her stomach softly as she pecked her lips against Azzi’s every few seconds whispering sweet nothings into her ears, such as.. “Such a pretty girl Az..” “Look at my princess..” “Gonna dream of you every night ma..” Until Azzi finally put a stop to it by pinning Paige down with a slick move. “Whoa ma-” A startled Paige said looking up at the younger girl, adjusting her hands so one was on her ass the other on her hip smirking in that cheesy way she knew Azzi loved.

“Oh you are such a dumbass..” Azzi mumbled softly, moving a hand to the blonde’s cheek leaning down and pecking her lips in such an easy motion like banking a layup or a floater to the two hoopers. “My dumbass though..” The younger girl smiles and pecks her lips again. 

The blonde looks up at the younger girl. “Love being your dumbass,” She paused for a moment before adding “as long as I get to see that ass shake ma.” Paige was then met with a playful smack from her best friend on her arm. “What Az it is true!” Paige laughed and rolled over so the younger girl was under her.

“Yeah but is it so inappropriate!” Azzi said as if half of the stuff they have done in this very bed (or in the shower) was any better. Luckily Azzi used her brains and covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t you even think about it Bueckers..”

“You love me Az, I know it..” The blonde smiled and pecked the younger girl's lips before whispering playfully in a seductive voice. “But you know maybe later I can show you inappropriate things.” She ran her finger down to the younger girl's shorts with a smirk, before doing her classic ‘rizz-hands’ grinning ear to ear. “Dork..” Azzi mumbled pecking her lips again, a knock at the door prevented Paige from deepening the kiss. Paige groans and rolls off Azzi so she can get up. Azzi opens the door to find Tim, the man was tall standing at 6 '7 and was a stocky man developing a bit of a dad bod from being off the court for so long, most guys didn’t ask Azzi out because her dad was so scary. Deep down he is like a big old teddy bear. “Hey girls, dinner is ready! Azzi you need to clean up your room after dinner hun.” Azzi nodded and Paige smiled before standing up and following Azzi downstairs to the dining area. The Fudd house was well kept and generally clean, except for the couch which was covered in Azzi’s two younger brothers controllers and such. Paige sat next to Azzi and placed her hand on her thing, rubbing gently as they waited for the dinner to be set in front of them. “So how was your day y’all?” Azzi’s mother Katie asked, her voice had a twang to it that made her seem more stern then she was. She looked at her two younger sons who instantly stopped messing around with each other. “Jose, remember to put away your clothes. I have asked you three times this week alone.”

Paige had grown used to this, it was nice having siblings in the house all the time and two loving parents even if they weren’t actually hers. Paige was only three when Bob and Amy got a divorce, it took her till she was seven to figure out why. She used to blame herself. It was a bad habit she developed, someone was to get hurt in court. She must have not tried enough to prevent that. It was horrible, when she found out Azzi tore her Azzi she blamed herself for not being there and not kissing her all better, not holding her in person (all they did was Facetime), not having Azzi squeeze her thighs around Paige’s head as she.. When Bob and his current wife had Drew, Paige was so happy to have a younger sibling she could treat like a little baby. Often Azzi was sent photos of Paige and Drew, in return Paige would get silly pictures of Azzi or her brothers, which she always kept in case she needed to make a quick roast on them. “My day was good Katie thank you for asking..” Paige smiled looking at the women who helped bring life to this goddess next to her currently. She held Azzi’s hand under the table while they ate and enjoyed the food. Soon they finished eating and Paige took the honor of taking Azzi’s plate to the kitchen and washing it well. Azzi watched Paige do so, before trailing behind her holding her mother’s and father’s plate. “Oh hello there madam Fudd..” Paige grinned at her cheesy words, taking the plates and pecking the younger girl's cheek. “I must say madam Fudd you look absolutely delicious in those jeans.” The blonde's eyes drifted down to her ass in those jeans smirking. 

“My eyes are up here Bueckers..” The younger girl hopped onto the counter looking at her best friend washing the dishes before walking over placing her hands on her thighs rubbing softly looking up at her. “Hm?” The younger girl hummed in a questioning tone looking at the older girl. “Nothing, just admiring this beautiful girl in front of me..” Paige grinned and pecked her lips softly against the younger girl who returned the kiss before pulling away. “Mmm, love those kisses..” The blonde began to kiss the curly haired girl's cheeks and jawline. “So perfect..” Eventually Azzi pushed Paige off of her and they went back up to Azzi’s room. Paige began to get ready for bed which included taking off her clothes. Azzi had seen Paige naked a few times but that didn’t matter. Paige undresses quickly before helping Azzi undress. It was difficult for the younger girl to deal with her injury. “Thank you P..” The blonde nodded and kissed the younger girl in a ‘your welcome’ fashion. The older girl helped Azzi get dressed until her body was dressed in short shorts and an oversized shirt, Paige got dressed in some flannel Pj pants and an oversized shirt that read ‘Hopkins basketball’.

Paige laid down next to Azzi in her bed rubbing her back gently, her touch soft against her even softer skin. “There you go Az..” Paige mumbled quietly, “Love you so much.. Gonna be here forever for you..” Azzi smiled before rolling over and kissing Paige, kissing her until her lips were swollen and she needed to catch her breath. The blonde moved down and kissed her neck softly. “Love this girl..” Paige mumbled softly kissing down her neck. Paige backed off studying her neck, looking at the slight mark on the neck of the girl. “Look at that baby..” Azzi rolled her eyes, pinning Paige to the bed smiling as they cuddled and tickled each other, acting like the teens that they were thrown into adulthood at 17 and 18 due to picking the career of basketball called the next greats hold back due to the injuries. Giving them a wider view of the world, being thrown into the world of live television during the USA basketball olympics or even just being told you are the greatest in the country added pressure, and pressure, and even more you guessed it pressure until they couldn’t take it. They were lucky to have each other to be each other's crunches, that supported their legs that held them back. “Paige?” Azzi mumbled and Paige hummed softly in reply. “What college did you choose?” “Oh um.. I have chosen Uconn, Geno seems like a great coach. He has coached the greats like Sue Bird, Taurasi, Stewie..” Paige smiled at Azzi before continuing. “Soon to be great Paige Madison Bueckers..” Azzi punched her arm softly, rolling her eyes. “Yeah.. Azzi isn't that far away from Virginia or Minnesota, I mean it is quite a bit away from Washington and like Montana but that doesn’t matter really. It isn’t like I will get drafted and go to the Storms or Wings..” “Yeah I know I just..” Azzi began but didn’t finish looking up at Paige whose blue eyes had an understanding look. “I just am scared P.. what if I don’t get drafted if my injury holds me back. I have my good grades but basketball.. It is my life P..” “Hey hey no you will get drafted in the future and I will be right there watching you cheering you on.” Paige held the younger girl's face in her hands. “We can be roommates in college, we could share a bed and have some fun every few nights.” Paige raised her eyebrows and pecked Azzi’s nose softly. “Azzi nothing is holding you back, you are the greatest player of your class. Prove it to the world, and you know maybe I will take that stupid fucking elderberry stuff again just for you.” 

Azzi laughed at the last thing Paige said before leaning in and kissing her softly. “Mmm okay but you can’t run out of the house..” Paige kissed her back gently smiling as she rubbed the hand of the younger girl. Paige pulled away gently. “No promises on that..” She leaned back and kissed her again. “Do you know when your parents are going to your brother's little thing?” Azzi shook her head before grabbing her phone to check her calendar. Paige kissed her neck gently as she did so, wanting the younger girl to feel loved. “His thing is in an hour and he wants to be there like 30 minutes early so probably in 10 minutes they will leave..” Azzi said, stroking the blonde hair of the older girl. The blonde groaned complaining that it was too long of a wait and Azzi should just let her have some fun right now. “Paige you can wait ten minutes..” Azzi smiled at the older girl, kissing her lips softly.

 “Ugh you are so mean to me..” Paige mumbled kissing the younger girl back acting as if they didn’t go four months before even having the conversation. “I love you Azzi but man you bully me..” the blonde joked and teased the younger girl.

Azzi pulled out her phone and scrolled through it while Paige clung to her, once they heard the garage open Paige grinned ear to ear. “Oh man are you excited babe?” Azzi asked, looking up at her Paige who nodded eagerly kissing the face of her best friend with eagerness. 

“Look at this face ma..” Paige mumbled the roar of the engine in the background gave Paige a signal it would be okay to take Azzi’s shirt off of her tossing it somewhere between the bed and dresser not really caring where it landed. “These motherfuckin’ abs ma..” She leaned down and kissed her stomach softly rubbing it gently between kisses. Paige kept complimenting her body, kissing down and down until she reached her shorts. “May I?” Azzi nodded and Paige pulled her shorts down to reveal the pretty underwear she watched Azzi put on. “Paige, stop teasing..” Azzi mumbled and watched as Paige pulled down her underwear letting out a moan at the sight of the younger girl's pussy. Her eyes tracing around the folds, to the clit, and then back again in a constant cycle she looked up at Azzi and smirked. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy ma.. Wet for me, yeah?” She kissed right above it as her thumb found her clit and rubbed slow circles around it. Her head lowered as she kissed her clit softly, spitting a bit she ran her middle finger up and down her soaking folds waiting for Azzi to give some sign of not being able to take the teasing anymore. She got what she wanted soon after when the younger girl's thigh twitched rubbing against her hand. “Want more?” Azzi nodded eagerly and Paige slipped her finger in teasing her with her slow sliding in and out. “Like that?” She smirked and added a second finger speeding up a bit as she began to stretch her out. “P.. Paige.. Fuck..” Azzi moaned her eyes on Paige struggling to hold in her moans against her bottom lip which she bit. “Paige fuck your fingers.. Need more..” “Oh yeah ma? Well then I will give you more..” She lowered her head and sucked her clit while Azzi kept moaning her hands gripping her sheets tightly scrunching the normally perfect surface. Paige's fingers curling into Azzi with a steady rhythm.. “Yeah Paige.. Paige Paige.. Fuck I am close..” Paige grinned and leaned up pecking her lips before spitting on her still moving fingers. “Damn damn.. Fuck P..” “Yeah baby let it go come on cum for me..” Azzi’s hips bucked up to meet Paige's fingers until they faltered before crashing right back down. Paige let her ride her high out until she laid there breathing heavily.. Paige pulled her fingers out and sucked on them softly. “It tastes so good ma..”

“Yeah I bet..” Azzi mumbled as she looked at Paige, “Alright my turn..” Azzi laid back against the bed while Paige stripped down to nothing but her sports bra. Paige gripped the head board as she lined herself up. “There you go..” Azzi mumbled gripping her thighs as Paige lowered herself on Azzi’s face with a moan, her folds opening around the younger girl's tongue. “Damn Az..” She slowly rose up and back down a few times before sliding against the younger girl's face as she lapped up her mess. She began to imagine what Azzi’s mother's reaction would be if she walked in and saw her daughter’s best friend sitting on her face. She was about to laugh when she was interrupted by a moan coming from herself. “Tastes so good P..” Azzi mumbled as her chin became covered with Paige’s slick and her own drool.. “Could eat this pussy every day…” Paige groaned as she rode her face fast, craving that high. She moaned again followed by some swearing as Azzi helped her reach her goal. Paige’s actions slowed and followed every few seconds till she cummed on the younger girl’s tongue. “Damn..” Paige lifted her hips and sat next to Azzi smiling at her. “So what position next hmm?” Paige rubbed Azzi’s thigh as Azzi cleaned up her face, with the back of her wrist. “Uh we could do some scissor action you know..” Azzi suggested smiling at Paige who nodded and took a deep breath before beginning to align their weak pussies, Paige slowly lowered herself to the point where they met. The two girls moaned at the touch and grinned against each other and Paige’s eyes rolled back in overstimulation of her clit touching Azzi’s folds. “Wow.. wow Azzi..” “AZZI (enter Azzi’s middle name) FUDD!” A voice called out, opening the door to find them in such a position. Paige, not knowing what to do, froze, luckily Azzi had some brains and pulled a blanket over them. Azzi’s mother stood in the door, her face must have been as red as her hair. “YOU TWO GET DRESSED AND BE DOWNSTAIRS IN 5 MINUTES..” Katie was furious this was not something Paige wanted to happen. Paige quickly got up once the door closed, pecking Azzi’s forehead before getting dressed helping Azzi get dressed. “Fuck Azzi what are we going to do.. What if they kick me out.. I can’t go back to my dad’s yet..” Paige stared at the younger girl's brown eyes until they answered her. “They won’t Paige I promise and if they do we will move out together.. I have enough money to buy a hotel or something. Come on, we can do this..” Azzi answered as she pulled her shirt over her head standing slowly using Paige as her support, her rock. Paige was her rock always was. “Come on, let's go..” Paige mumbled as they made their way down the stairs to the living room, the caring and gentle Mr. Fudd at a stern expression as he looked at the two girls, but he wasn’t the one they were worried about. They watched as Katie reentered the living room, her expression sterned as she pointed to the couch telling them to sit. “Mrs. Fudd I can explain..” Paige began but was shut down when Katie raised her hand up.  “So Azzi why when I come home from your brother's event do I find you and the girl you swore to me was just a friend in bed together doing certain acts?” Katie asked, staring them down like a hawk. “Explain to me why I found you in such a position hmm..” “Mom, I really like Paige..” Azzi’s voice was timid so Paige held her hand rubbing the back of it with her thumb. “I have liked her since we met. She is the best thing to happen to me, please don’t take her away…” Tim spoke up, “How long has this been going on?” His voice was rough like gravel in a driveway. He stared at the two girls, his eyes flicking to each as he rubbed his forehead softly.

“About 8 months but we only started doing that like a month ago..” Paige responded quickly, still holding onto Azzi’s hand.

“Unbelievable..” Katie mumbled before Tim put his hand on her shoulder. He seemed like he wanted to reason with the girls. “Listen I get you guys are teens and all but that isn’t an excuse really.. Now here is the deal: no more sex under my roof got it? But you two can be all couple like..” Tim smiled at the two girls before his expression became serious. “Now Bueckers if I find out you broke my little girl's heart.. I will not hesitate to break you..” The large man grinned and smiled at the girls once more.

Katie jumped in, “I think you two can do a bit of cleaning to make up for this..” She looked between the girls who nodded, gratefully that they at least still had each other. Still had their rocks.

[countlessmoviethoughts]

Ok, I’ve been thinking about this for a bit, but consider:

Slow Horses where everything is the same, but they have a cat.

Sid finds a cat on her way into Slough House sometime before the start of the show. It’s this scrawny orange cat, probably little less than a year old, so not really a kitten that needs its mom or anything but definitely not full grown. It looks picked on, Yknow, ear has cuts, probably a few claw marks here and there, and for a moment it reminds her so much of River she has to at least show him the cat so she can laugh at his reaction or something. So she does the perfectly reasonable thing of picking up a random cat off the street and brings it to work.

She shows the cat to River who does the whole ‘Ha ha not funny’ bit, but walking through London with this random cat in her coat, she’s become attached. So she decides it’s going to stay at Slough House, much to everyone’s delight (not). She goes out on a coffee break later (her second or third of the day) and gets the basic supplies, and probably a few toys, and sets them up in various places around the office.

Standish is probably the most excited about all this, and the cat absolutely ADORES her. After Sid disappears (? Is that the right word for what happens?) Standish is the main one who cares for the cat. Occasionally, before she leaves, it would follow her around, curling around her ankles when she stands to do her tasks. Once she leaves, on her very occasional visits to Slough House, the cat is stuck to her like glue until she leaves.

A good half of the house think Lamb doesn’t know there’s even a cat, but he’s aware almost as soon as Sid introduces it into Slough House. He just kinda doesn’t care? Except when Standish leaves, he’s kind of the only one keeping the cat alive aside from River. The others try, but none of them have ever really had a cat, so every once in a while when everyone is running around or if someone gets the wrong type of food, a can of the most basic can of cat food mysteriously shows up open near the cat’s food bowl.

River is the dad that didn’t want the cat but then gets super attached. At first he’s very much less than impressed by the cat’s presence. He slowly warms up to the idea, but it really isn’t until after Sid’s gone that he gets attached. After her, if the cat isn’t with Standish, odds are it’s at River’s desk. He won’t necessarily play with the cat outright unless he’s REALLY bored or has something he REALLY doesn’t want to do, but if a toy falls by his foot he’ll kick it a little so the cat can keep playing. Or if the cat comes and sits on his desk he’ll give it a scratch on the head. After a particularly long day, if River is feeling particularly shitty, he’s also not opposed to the cat curling up on his lap for a while for him to pet, it takes his mind off things. After Sid and Standish, he’s the one that takes the most care of the cat.

Louisa tolerates that cat well enough. She thinks it definitely has its uses, she’s seen it take out a mouse or two, and after spending a good couple years in Slough House it knows not to get under foot. If she’s by River’s desk and the cat is there, she’s not opposed to giving it a couple pets as they talk. Min LOVES the cat, like he absolutely loves having it around and out of all the Slow Horses is the one that most actively played with the cat. That love has definitely rubbed of on Louisa just a touch.

Marcus also loves the cat, and gets a lot of entertainment out of a laser pointer. Him and Shirley are the two that try their best to take care of the cat when Standish leaves and River is gone for long periods of time, but while they mean well, they know absolutely nothing about cats. Shirley likes to pretend she’s indifferent about the cat, but she really isn’t. She wouldn’t be trying so hard (and by trying so hard I mean buying a can of straight up sardines over cat food but cats eat fish so it should be fine right?) When Marcus is killed in the house, before the bodies are collected, the cat comes out and just sorta… sits with him, until the people come to take his body away.

For Moira’s short stay at Slough House, she ignores the cat and the cat ignores her. The cat and Coe seemingly have a mutual understanding of not bothering each other. If they cross paths they may look at each other for a few seconds, and then immediately move on.

Roddy hates that cat. The feeling is mutual.

The cat never actually gets an official name, it just kinda becomes ‘The Cat’. Standish tries a couple names but they never stick, and the fact they don’t actually know the gender or anything of the cat probably plays a factor in that. If the cat ever gets seriously injured or ill they’ll probably find out at the vet, but until then they don’t really have the money nor do they care enough to take it into the vet to figure it out. Roddy has a couple choice nicknames for the cat, starting with ‘Ginger Devil’ and getting progressively more vulgar from there.

The cat usually stays at Slough House at night, locked in. It becomes a habit that someone fills the water, either Standish, or River, or Marcus, or Shirley, or even Lamb if all the others fail. Taking care of the cat falls into generic tasks/chores that need to be fulfilled on the daily so despite the general mess that Slough House can be, it’s actually a fairly well taken care of cat. Nobody outside of Slough House really know of its existence, the people at The Park couldn’t care less about what they do over there for the most part, and if anyone from there decides to visit the cat is always miraculously not around. Same thing happens with intruders. Whenever someone breaks in, the cat is long gone, and only emerges from whatever hiding space it’s been holed up in after everything has settled.

The cat becomes a staple of the building in the end, fairly well taken care of, at least as best taken care of as it can be by a group of disgraced spies, but it seems like it’s here to stay.

To anyone who read this far, hope you enjoy, this has been bouncing around in my head for the past couple days…

[inchesinbetweenus]

Sunshowers

a/n: should i turn this into a josh washington x reader series?

pairing: josh washington x fem!reader

warnings: just josh's poor mental health

word count: aprox. 2k

genre: fluff

summary: A rain cloud named "tragedy" seemed to follow Joshua Washington everywhere he went. It drenched his clothes, ruined his hair, and suffocated him. He was losing hope of ever feeling the sun on his skin again. Then you came along, and he hadn't felt such warmth in a long time.

 ---------------------

Some say a rain cloud named "tragedy" seemed to follow Joshua Washington everywhere he went. Some could hardly tell. Over time, he had learned how to live with the cold.

Many assumed he experienced the usual "rich kid problems" like his parents not letting him use their private yacht as a speedboat, or crying over not receiving enough presents for his birthday or Christmas, third-world problems really. While he was still young, the boy did experience more detached issues from his friends. These problems fleeted as quickly as they came. His childish attention span could only hold grudges for so long. One feeling that Joshua couldn't quite let go was loneliness.

Joshua first learned what it felt like to be alone when he was five. The deep pit in his chest started when he was very young, seeing Daddy leave for long periods to work on his movie projects. His mother, already used to the absence, busied herself to keep her sanity. Being left to take care of three young children is a daunting task. So she would hire nannies and babysitters to help fill the spaces she could not. Melinda tried her best, but it wasn't quite what her son needed. With his parents more distant than others, most of the time, Joshua never truly felt attached to anyone except for his sisters.

As they grew older, Joshua cared for them in the ways their parents lacked. In return, they did the same. The three siblings were incredibly close. It wasn't until Joshua was 10 that his family noticed something was wrong.

Joshua had grown up with the feeling that he was broken. Somewhere he couldn't quite figure it out. It all just felt wrong. That feeling and idea hung over his head in his low moments, but at some point, it felt consuming. He had brushed it off when it was easy to, a child had little time to be sad for too long. Over time it grew harder and harder to push away. It continued to grow and fester on his skin. Like a rash, he tried to conceal it, but to no avail. Now he felt like all could see. It took over him, and he had no idea what it was he felt or what he should do.

Soon enough, each day felt longer than the next. Each day, he spent more time in bed than out of it. Only leaving for necessity. Then something happened. The Washingtons spent copious amounts of money to hide the incident. All that is left of it, is a record in Joshua's doctor's notes regarding an "incident at school". Joshua was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder at the age of eleven.

Joshua never felt a lack of people in his life. He felt a lack of connection. His sisters, his friends, Chris, and others, they could only do so much. Josh was a hopeless romantic, with emphasis on "hopeless". A movie enthusiast, a trait he shared with his father. Joshua spent many sleepless nights rewatching his favorite movies. Many being romances. Some nights he so desperately wanted someone to jump in and sweep him off his feet just like in those movies. Someone to share a connection with. Each year that passed without anything close only made him feel more hopeless. And then he met you.

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

Junior year, for you, meant a new school. Your high school had been next in line to be remodeled over the summer, and due to unexpected circumstances, it wasn't ready in time for the new year. Most students got distributed to other schools in the area, but you were out of the district of your old school, so you were placed in the correct school. Away from all your friends. You weren't entirely thrilled at this, but ultimately there wasn't anything you could've done. Not on such short notice, but maybe later in the year, you could get a transfer. Hopefully.

Walking into a new school is not for the faint of heart. Each class felt like forever. Former friend groups mingled as you tried to find your spot in it all. The realization you were alone tightened your chest. A silent prayer that it wouldn't last fell from your lips as you entered the next classroom. It was Physics, and it seemed you were pretty early. The kind teacher instructed you to pick your seat as you were one of the first there. You settled on a seat towards the front of the class, but not dead center. Your eyes focused on your phone as the rest of the students filed into the room. The seats beside you remained empty as groups found each other. The tightening in your chest grew until someone sat next to you. She was blonde and had her hair pulled back out of her face. She was beautiful, sporting a bit of a grungey look. With a smile on her face, she introduced herself to you. You learned her name was Samantha, and she also had no friends in that class. Her best friend was in the year below, so they often took different classes. After sharing schedules, you realized you had lots of classes together. The two of you seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Guess loneliness had missed its target today. You spent most of the day with Sam, she showed you around the school and provided insight into the teachers and student drama. At lunch, she introduced you to her best friend, Hannah, and Hannah's sister, Beth. You learned they were twins and their brother, Joshua, also attended the school in the year above them. The first day you already knew three new people you could talk to. This was going better than you expected.

One thing you were still concerned about was your last class. You had been placed into AP English Literature as a Junior. It was commonly a Senior class, but you tested out of AP English Language. This meant none of your new friends would be in that class, but Hannah and Beth had mentioned their brother taking that class. Was it possible you had the same period?

Walking into the warmly lit classroom was a relief in your eyes. The fluorescent lights in most of the other classrooms always strained your eyes when reading. The moody lighting was a nice change. Purple LED lights were strung around the top of the room, matching the deep purple of two of the walls. Warm fairy lights dangled beneath the LEDs, better fitting the other two white walls. A beautifully calming contrast. Sunlight poured in through the blinds of the windows behind the teacher's desk. It had been raining all day, a dreary first day. But now the weather seemed better. Only the raindrops still fell but the sun peeking through the clouds gave hope of better weather.

The desks were arranged in groups of four, with two seats facing the front and two facing each other. You chose a seat closer to the teacher and the windows. Not really wanting to face a new person, you chose one of the seats facing the front. Similar to your other classes, students walked in, but with less urgency than this morning.

The seat next to you remained empty. Two girls sat in front of you, they were nice but more interested in each other. You kept your attention on your phone as they chatted about the drama that already seemed to be happening on the first day.

Finally, the last wave of students walked in. With that group was a boy that looked slightly similar to the description Hannah and Beth had given of their brother. You noticed it all. The brown hair that looked slightly styled, the clothes he wore, and the goofy smile on his lips as he spoke with some friends. What you also noticed was a distinct look in his eyes. Despite all the laughs he shared as he walked in, his eyes looked like they held a sea of grief. You were shocked at how deep they were. Your face burned at this sudden infatuation with a stranger's eyes, but you couldn't help it. There were two open seats, and by whatever miracle it was, he chose to sit next to you. At least you thought it was a miracle.

"Good afternoon, class." The teacher looked up from her seat in the corner, surrounded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds. "Please take a few minutes to get acquainted with your tablemates. They will be your group for the year."

The two girls paid no mind to you and Joshua. Returning to their previous conversation. A smile pulled at your lips as you turned to face the boy next to you. Your gazes met, and you glanced over his features. Quite striking, but his eyes were something else. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on. If you weren't too busy with your own inner thoughts, you'd have noticed the brunette was staring right back at you.

"Joshua, right? I have lunch with your sisters."

The mention of his sisters snapped him back to the conversation as he blinked away his thoughts.

"Right, but everyone calls me Josh." The same goofy smile from before graced his face. "And you are?"

"Y/N."

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

Josh was usually focused in school. It was the one place he could muster the strength to get stuff done. On particularly bad days, he was allowed to stay home. Sure, he would get behind, but eventually, he could catch up. Once his medicine kicked in. If it kicked in. Last year was particularly rough, but not rough enough to stop him from placing in one of his favorite classes AP Literature. He looked forward to the film portion of that class, and wouldn't let anything get in his way of it. He worked his ass off studying for the AP Lang exam, passing with flying colors. His current medicine seemed to work, for now.

He walked into AP Literature, actually excited for the class. He split off from Chris and his other friends as they walked to their final classes. Being almost late for his classes was a signature for Josh, and his teachers had learned it was best to not mention it. It was a fight they couldn't win anyway. Josh was expecting to love this class but for an entirely different reason than now. Now he found himself drawn to a new face.

It was a girl. She was definitely new, between Josh and his friends, he knew most people at the school. A new person would've been noticed. How he hadn't noticed her before, he didn't know, but now she was the only thing he could notice. Her hair looked purposefully done, even if it was just brushed there was intent there. There was intent in everything about her appearance no matter how small. But what he really was looking at was her eyes. There was a warmth in her eyes that he didn't see from many people. As cliche as it sounds, time felt slower. With a breath in, Josh almost wished he could stay here and figure out what it was about this girl he was so interested in.

Without much thought, Josh walked over to the empty seat next to her. He settled in the spot. Usually, Josh sat in the back of the class, not wanting to be front and center. That was the last thing he was thinking of right now. He turned to the teacher as she spoke. The sunlight danced through the blinds.

"Please take a few minutes to get acquainted with your tablemates. They will be your group for the year."

His eyes followed the light that glimmered in the rain, the way it fell on her felt almost poetic. A pause before either of them spoke. Taking in the sight of her, he could've sworn she was looking at him the same way. She spoke first; her voice was just as warm as she looked. She spoke of his sisters, snapping back into the conversation, Josh felt a smile pull at his lips.

"Right, but everyone calls me Josh."

Nobody really called him Joshua except for his parents, his teachers, his doctors, or people he didn't know well. Maybe something in him wanted to get to know her more, or he felt more at ease knowing she was friends with his sisters. Whatever it was, he welcomed it. "And you are?"

"Y/N"

"Y/N"

He repeated her name lightly.

Some say a rain cloud named "tragedy" seemed to follow Joshua Washington everywhere he went. Some could hardly tell. Over time, he had learned how to live with the cold. Well, for once, he could've sworn the sun was peeking through the rain. And he knew that what he only ever wanted was to bask in its warmth. Maybe you could help him do that.

[jenctrl]

birds of a feather*ೃ༄

"that one time when she realised that some people love unconditionally"

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order! this part contains some hurt/comfort! but it's all sweet :D

“Y/n?” Yunjin mumbled, her cheek pressed against the door as she tried to listen to what was going on behind the door to the feline’s room. 

The morning had been quiet, it wasn’t that Y/n was ever loud, but it had been empty for Yunjin. After not seeing her for almost a whole day, she wanted to see Y/n and be with her, especially today. 

The girl had locked herself in her room yesterday evening and hadn’t come out since then; it was almost lunchtime now. The canine had waited the whole morning, patiently(not really), she had nothing to do today except fitting in the early morning that she had been done a while ago with. 

It wasn’t the first time, Y/n tended to be hot and cold, it wasn’t something Yunjin minded as she knew about the black-and-white world Y/n lived in. There was good and bad, no in-between. The current situation was bad beyond words, it was just as bad for Yunjin, but she dealt with it differently. 

She raised her fist and knocked, there was no answer and nothing more but silence on the other side. Yunjin gently opened the door after knocking, peeking her head inside before opening it wider and fully looking inside. 

Her lower lip jutted out as she stared at Y/n whose back was turned to her, the girl was sitting on the floor. The luggage bags around her were open, but no clothes were inside; the clothes were rather sprawled out around the room, creating a mess that was unusual for Y/n who was organised. 

Y/n preferred to act like certain things didn’t bother her as if she didn’t care because she didn’t. She at least wished she didn’t. Who would have thought that after being proven the same thing over and over again throughout her whole life; one person could come in and alter all of it? Y/n liked when change happened but hated when someone else changed stuff in her life. 

She stared down at the empty bags, glaring at them. She had been sitting in the same spot for what felt like hours but was probably just around an hour as she had woken up not long ago. How could she tell someone about her reasoning when they felt stupid to begin with? 

Yunjin (and her members) would probably understand or try to, but it wasn’t easy. It was scary to be vulnerable and talk about her biggest fears. 

“Can I help?” Yunjin asked, leaning against the frame as she picked on her nails. 

“No.” The answer was cold and simple, that’s usually how the girl’s answers were, but this was different because there was actual distance that Y/n had put between them. 

“But I always help you pack.” The girl reasoned, her hands dropping to her sides in disbelief. 

“No, just leave.” 

All her life she had been taught not to get attached because people would come and go, no one stayed, no one cared, no one truly loved and if they did they would leave without a word. She learned the hard way that it was always better to be alone, to do everything on her own, to not seek comfort or help and only rely on herself. 

She realised a little too late that she had grown attached to the new people around her. She forgot her lessons the second Yunjin stepped in and after a while the same happened with the rest of the members too. 

However, it was different with the girl who sat down beside her on the floor. She hadn’t said it, but she gave in, unable to shut Yunjin out no matter how hard she tried. 

Yunjin stayed silent for a few seconds, her eyes scanning the girl beside her whose chin was resting atop her knees. She never liked it when Y/n fell into a gloom, it made her feel down too. 

“It’s only a month, it will go by quickly.” She tried to look on the bright side. Y/n was being sent overseas for a solo schedule and it would all line up with promotions and garner more attention. 

Only a month away from the highlight of her day, a month away from her comfort, from her safe space, from her home. Yunjin was realising how bad it was. 

They may have been dramatic in the eyes of everyone else, but this was shaking up their world.

Yunjin watched Y/n who huffed and turned her face to the side, being met by the back of her head now. Those weren’t the right words to say. 

Y/n ignored it when Yunjin stood up and walked out of the room. It made her pout as she got what she wanted, to push her away yet it gave her the opposite feeling as she released a long breath to try and get rid of the heaviness. 

Was it that easy for someone to leave? Y/n would know, she liked to leave people behind before they could leave her after getting to know how it felt. Once was enough. 

Another sigh fell from between her lips and she looked back at the empty bags she was supposed to start packing days ago. She had thought that stalling would help her forget and maybe make the problem disappear and she wouldn’t have to go if she hadn’t packed. 

“Okay, we will finish packing later–” Y/n was startled when Yunjin came back inside, it made her look up at the girl who stopped beside her, dropping a bundle of clothes, hoodies and sweaters, right into the luggage in front of her. Yunjin’s scent wafted through the air after they were dropped. “Right now, we need to go to the bookstore to get that book you wanted, I’m even paying.” 

“I’m not dressed.”

“Just get a hoodie and cap,”

Y/n wanted to say no and protest, tell Yunjin to go away, but instead, she pretended to be bothered without putting up a fight when her hands were grabbed. 

The canine took hold of the grumpy feline’s hands and pulled her to her feet to drag her out of her room at last before they left the apartment altogether. It was with a few grumbles and snarky comments, but she knew Y/n better than to think the girl didn’t want this.

She was just too stubborn to show that she wanted it.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“You know…” Yunjin started, trying to figure out the right words to say as she walked behind Y/n through the aisles of the small bookstore. It held an antique vibe to it, located in quite an isolated alley, they had found it a while ago while walking around. 

She got a short hum from Y/n, her eyes on the girl who was in a pair of loose black shorts with a hoodie, cap and slippers to match. Yunjin’s fingers grazed over the spines of the books while admiring everything around her, admiring the way Y/n admired her surroundings as her cat-like eyes curiously gazed around. It made Yunjin smile.

“You’re my Scrump and I don’t want to make you think about whatever is unpleasant, but I don’t want you carrying it all alone…Problems don’t usually disappear without being faced.” 

Yunjin’s heart raced slightly, it was a dangerous game almost. She knew that her Scrump was a tough cookie, but she was soft on the inside despite the outside being hard to crumble. However, it was these words of care that would make Y/n close off instead of open up. 

Y/n pursed her lips and swallowed before biting her lower lip. She hummed, that was all she could do as she pulled the cap down further and stopped. Her eyes looked over the books, already holding three as she reached for a fourth one.

“Mm,” Y/n gave a nod, unsure if she was acknowledging Yunjin’s words or the book she picked up. The strain in her arm disappeared when the books were grabbed from her hold and she turned to look at Yunjin. 

Yunjin tilted her head when Y/n frowned and looked at her with a small scowl, it was unusual to find clear signs of what Y/n was feeling on the outside. It was always masked so well. 

However, Yunjin could always tell how Y/n felt just by looking her in the eye. 

She reached her hand out and the feline clicked her tongue in annoyance when Yunjin pinched her cheek. “You’re too cute at times.” Her hand was pushed away, but she didn’t give up just yet. Y/n tried to squirm away when Yunjin wrapped her arm around her into a struggling half hug with books. “Aww, you need a hug, don’t you?”

“Let go.” Y/n tried to argue, unable to struggle free from the arm around her shoulders.

“No, hug me back and I will,” Yunjin argued back as she stumbled forward, managing to hold her balance and Y/n whose face was buried in her shoulder.

“You’re so annoying.” The feline exclaimed as quietly as possible because they were still in public, but she was getting worked up now. She tried to jump, but Yunjin’s hold around her was too strong. It made her groan when all she got in return was a laugh. 

“Hug me or I’m kissing your whole face.” Yunjin threatened and patiently waited as the girl calmed down and huffed in her hold. 

Y/n got out of the canine’s hold who yelped in pain, stepping away. 

“You bit me.” She accused as she looked at her shoulder, massaging it through her sweatshirt. Her gaze averted to Y/n who was frustratedly fixing her clothes and cap. 

She ignored what the latter said and looked at the book in her hold before showing it to Yunjin who pouted at the indifference on Y/n’s face after causing her pain. 

“Do you–” Y/n started, she usually wasn’t one to suggest these things or admit to wanting to spend time together. She loved being alone, but not lonely. “Wanna read this with me at the park?” 

Yunjin smiled while Y/n looked away, feeling weird and awkward for asking for someone’s time as she wasn’t used to it. Neither was she used to people having time for her.

“If I wanna read a book with you at the park?” Yunjin questioned, but Y/n’s gaze was still glued to the shelf of books beside them. “I would read a million books with you, let’s go pay and get food too.” She ushered, feeling giddy because even if Y/n didn’t say it or showed it differently, Yunjin knew. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Whether with words or silence, they knew how to soothe each other and Y/n felt everything she had put up slowly go away. Yunjin’s presence simply made her realise where she found comfort and who she trusted. That was it at the moment though, she still couldn’t let it out with words, but she could forget about it all for a moment as the canine made the bad go away. 

Yunjin knew that she was getting closer and she refrained from speeding up the process as the physical distance was gone at least. She sighed in contentment through her nose while adjusting her head that rested against Y/n’s who had her head on her shoulder.

The wind blew gently, it wasn’t a breeze that was cold yet it made Y/n sit closer, the older girl’s sweatshirt on her lap to get rid of any goosebumps. The food they ate had been discarded after they finished, sharing a meal and now sharing a novel Y/n had picked out. 

They both sat at a picnic bench that was close to Han River with people being too busy to pay them any mind. It wasn’t often that happened and so they refused to take it for granted just like they refused to take any moment spent together for granted. 

The time they spent together, the memories (good or bad) they created together, the times they thought about the other, talked or texted, in person or across the world, it was all moments to treasure. 

Love came in so many forms and was so hard to truly express, but they just knew what love was in these moments. 

Yunjin held the paperback book for both of them, Y/n’s one hand looped under her arm to flip the pages. The younger’s other hand rested against Yunjin’s leg, drawing patterns on the material of her jeans. There was no need for words to be exchanged in these moments where they dwelled in silence and their bond.

Y/n fought long and hard to find her peace, she refused to give it up and the longer she sat with Yunjin, in her warm presence that she was overly fond of; Y/n realised how much she didn’t want to be away from her comfort. It took so long to find. 

This was exactly why she relied on herself, why she avoided attachment, it was too scary and now she had to go through it all again. 

The canine gasped and lifted her head after Y/n flipped the page and the rest was blank: they finished the novel. The feline grabbed hold of Yunjin’s forearm as she sat up straight and the two turned to look at each other at the same time. 

“Bro.” “That was nuts.” 

“Since when do you say bro?” “And you nuts?” 

Yunjin put the book down and leaned against the backrest of the bench. Another silence occupied them (taking in the book they finished) and Y/n used it to lean back, however, she leaned into Yunjin who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“Just got shocked enough to say: bro,” Y/n mumbled and looked down at her lap as Yunjin let out a breathless chuckle. She stared at her hands, playing with her fingers and she tried to think about the book a bit more before trying to empty her mind fully because it wasn’t working. 

The canine could sense it, she could tell how Y/n felt even if the girl didn’t say it. The feline’s face was impossible to read, but Yunjin could simply just tell.

Sometimes the simplest gestures or the simplest words worked. She trailed her fingers along Y/n’s arm which was covered by the black hoodie while she stared down at the girl’s hands. 

They had been sitting around for long enough.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Your problems will always be my problems too. I will never let you go through it alone.”

Y/n’s silence grew and Yunjin moved her head to try and look at the girl’s face, only catching the little pout on her lips before she faced away from her. The feline’s eyes found their way to the sky and she watched the white fluffy clouds float by and change shapes. 

Why couldn’t she be more like a cloud? To also change the way she was the further down the road she got? 

The canine didn’t avert her gaze though, a small smile tugged on her lips as she watched Y/n who admired the clouds in the sky. With the clouds clouding Y/n right now, she would wither like a flower due to the lack of sunlight, however, Yunjin would blow them away just for her. She’d have time to grow back. 

She never wanted the girl to change, there was no one she could love more, no other version of Y/n than the real her. If she could just find the right words to say it, to let Y/n know that there was perfection in the flaws and the flawless because that’s what made the girl her feline. 

Yunjin was about to say the words, but Y/n got out of her hold and turned to her. It startled Yunjin as the girl stared at her. The feline stared at her for a second or two, blinking and the silence was making the canine nervous. Had she messed up? She only wanted to remind her of it, but not push her to it. She was about to sink into the ground any second. 

“Did you bring a camera?”

Yunjin nodded her head, taking a breath of relief as she quickly reached for her purse. She handed the digital camera to Y/n who used it to capture the clouds in the sky. The latter would get a couple of pictures of the feline later on.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“You have to take this.” Yunjin persisted as she tried to get past Y/n to shove the plushie into the only luggage that was left open.

“There’s no room for it in there,” Y/n argued, grabbing hold of Yunjin’s arm so she wouldn’t walk past her while she sat on the bed. They had spent the past few hours packing which should have been started days ago to make it easier. They made it work though.

“I will make room for Scrump.” She insisted and Y/n grabbed hold of her arm with both hands before pulling Yunjin down with all her might and a huff. Yunjin yelped as she stumbled and fell onto a pile of clothes on the bed, the plushie being taken from her hold. 

“Are you seriously not going to take the Scrump I got you?” The canine asked with sorrow and seriousness laced in her tone. 

Y/n rolled her eyes and looked down at the Scrump plushie in her hands. How could an inanimate object hold so much importance to the younger girl? They never did, but with time things changed, with her members, with Yunjin, somehow every little thing started being important. A plushie felt so important to Y/n that she would feel bad if she put it in the luggage.

“I am taking her–” Y/n mumbled and turned back to reach for the bag she’d have at hand when leaving for the airport in the morning. “Just not in there…idiot.” Yunjin chuckled as she watched Y/n place Scrump in the bag with the other important things she needed at hand.

It warmed Yunjin’s heart, this was what reassured her that each day they took steps forwards and not backwards.

“Can we stay up till late?” Y/n questioned as she somewhat regretted choosing to lock herself in her room all morning as she could have spent all that time with Yunjin. Now it felt like they were short on time and she desperately wanted to be able to make the day longer or be able to rewind and make different choices. 

“I will do anything you want.” She replied without any doubt, her tone back to that cheery one. 

“Why?” Yunjin hummed in confusion, tilting her head as she leaned back against her palms, gazing at Y/n. She didn’t expect a question back, not one like this. The other’s gaze was on Yunjin, but not on her face, avoiding her eyes as she puffed out her cheeks with a shrug.

“Why do you?” Why did Yunjin and everyone around her do so much and care so much for her? It was all so foreign, it was nice but also scary.

“I will do anything you want, follow you anywhere, and give everything to see you smile.” It wasn’t because she had to, but because she wanted to and knowing Y/n did the same for her whether consciously or not made it all worth it. 

The feline was worth it.

“But why?” Y/n emphasised, not understanding why anyone would go out of their way for her. 

How was following her through thick and thin so worth it for Yunjin? For her members? Y/n was there for them, she tried to be at least, but she wasn’t sure if she was enough for them. For anyone. 

The feline felt great and warm when she managed to make the people who were close to her smile, laugh, even cry (for good reasons) and just be there for them. However, she felt like she was nothing but a burden when they did the same for her. Y/n didn’t fit in and therefore didn’t deserve it. 

She had managed to get all these loving and supporting people around her, but she felt like a phony, someone who hadn’t done well or enough to have this much. It wasn’t deserved for an imposter in the home they created. 

Yunjin huffed as she pushed herself up, it made Y/n groan when arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly and holding her close. It washed over her, that warm feeling that made her heartbeat much quicker and she shut her eyes tightly, her back hitting the mattress. 

“Because I love you.” Why did hearing those words make her feel so sentimental?

Yunjin’s legs tangled with hers as the canine lay atop her, arms wrapped around Y/n as she hummed in contentment. The feline bunched up the sheets under her, trying hard to put up walls, to come off as indifferent, but the weight of sincerity and love was crushing it all as she lay limp.

“Why?”

Yunjin hummed as she acknowledged the whisper of a question and she smiled into Y/n’s hair. 

“I don’t need a reason to love you, I just do.” She finally found the right words to say to Y/n, these few words that said so much. That let Y/n know everything Yunjin always wanted to say to her, but never knew how. “Don’t act like you don’t know it, Y/n. We all love you, I love you. You’re nothing but loveable.” 

Yunjin lifted her head at the silence she received, her hands planted on the mattress and the second she did Y/n used a forearm to cover her face from the canine. It made her hand gently reach to her and try to remove it to see the girl, but she whined and grumbled, refusing to show herself.

The canine cooed, seeing how vulnerable it made Y/n. “You’re crying, my little Scrump.” 

“I’m not.” She tried to reply, her voice cracking at the fight she was putting up. 

Y/n couldn’t help it, those simple words meant so much. They made everything wash away and she hadn’t felt this light in her body for a long time. She snivelled, only peeking at Yunjin when the bed dipped beside her as the girl had moved to lay beside her. 

“It’s okay, although it is making me tear up,” Yunjin reassured her, knowing Y/n rarely showed herself at her weakest points, at times when she was vulnerable. It was making her teary-eyed too. 

She grumbled, removing her forearm and turning to finally hug Yunjin who hugged her back. The feline buried her face in her shoulder, bunching up the material of Yunjin’s shirt in her fist as her back was rubbed. It did feel good to hug and hear those words even if she tried to deny it. 

There was a court knock on the door–Yunjin humming out a reply–before it opened and Sakura was the first to peek inside followed by Eunchae, Kazuha and Chaewon. 

“We’re heading to bed, but thought we’d say goodnight and goodbye first,” Sakura explained as Y/n was departing early and wouldn’t be able to say goodbye. 

“Aww, look, she’s crying.” Y/n groaned at Chaewon’s voice and she was about to argue until her body was crushed by the weight of all her members. 

“We will miss you too.” Kazuha teased, making the feline flail her arm to get the girl away, “Shut up, Zuha,” only to get hugged tighter by everyone. 

Y/n did know it in the end, didn’t she? She knew that she was loved and cared for. She just needed a little reminder to remember that she did belong even if at times she was sure that she didn’t. A reminder that they were different.

Yunjin, all her members weren’t leaving, so she didn’t have to worry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Yunjin woke up the next day in Y/n’s empty bed, it made her heave a sigh first thing in the morning. She stared at the ceiling for a while and thought about yesterday before deciding to think about the coming days up till Y/n’s return. 

The girl turned in the bed to face the room that was tidied up after the mess they had made. A book was on the bed and she reached for it as it hadn’t been there before. To try and distract herself she opened it and flipped past the first few blank pages and whatnot until she got to the official first page.

Yunjin smiled as she read the words that were circled in across the page.

I guess

I love

you

It made her flip to the next page as there were no more words circled in on the first one. 

a lot

Another page was flipped.

thank you

There’s 

nothing more

She knew that Y/n did, she knew the girl better than the feline thought she did. Yunjin was aware that Y/n would struggle to say them–always saying them with different gestures instead–because she simply struggled to outwardly express them. Yunjin didn’t need to hear it to know it.

The canine still kept flipping and she chuckled at the polaroid that fell out, making her pick it up–it was the two of them from last night–and look on the backside.

‘I knew you would keep looking cause you’re annoying’

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[yourlittlebunnyy]

a court of shadows and darkness

main masterlist - azriel masterlist - previous

chapter seven

summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.

warnings: none

enjoy!🫶

Sobs escape the lips of the three siblings before they can even stop them. Cassian is quick to react: he gets up and hugs Selaene, his face wet with silver from happiness. She feels her heart burst as she holds one of her brothers in her arms. She had not realized how much she missed him before. They remain embraced for what seems like hours to her, but at the same time, not enough time. She hears whispers in the background, a female voice asks a certain Feyre who Selaene is, what she is doing attached to her male. The other female shushes her.

She feels someone touch her shoulder, and when she lifts her head from Cassian's chest she meets Rhysand's eyes. The man smiles at her through tears, and she does the same. Cassian pulls away slightly to give her brother space, but he remains beside her, his eyes fixed on her as if he cannot believe that his sister is here, she is alive, she is safe.

Rhysand and Selaene hug each other tightly, almost knocking the breath out of each other. Cassian takes time to analyze his sister's figure, check that she is not hurt. She is the same as before, the same as four hundred and sixty-three years ago. As if it were yesterday. She is wearing a torn nightgown and a coat that looks like it came from the Winter Court. No, he is sure it came from there. He smells of cinnamon and ashes. But under the smell of the heavy coat he can now smell her own smell, the familiar smell of his sister. That too has remained unchanged: cream and strawberries. Strange, he thinks. He and his brother have remained the same, of course, but their appearance and smell in four copious centuries has clearly changed. They have grown, matured, and their smell with them. Before they smelled like little boys, now like men. And it should be the same for Selaene, should have sharpened her features, should look like a female of almost five hundred years, smell like one. But she has remained the little nineteen-year-old she once was. She does not seem to be hurt, he notices with pleasure.

Rhysand finally pulls away allowing the two to breathe. He seems to study her just as his brother already did. He seems to have the same questions.

“Selaene...” It seems surreal to him to have her there, calling her name and not in front of her grave. He is afraid to wake up. He seems to swallow a knot in his throat before asking her, “We were just about to have dinner, why don't you join us?” The question sounds so distant to everyone, though.

Selaene nods, still a little dazed, and finally seems to take in the rest of the room. There is Mor, of course. Four other females and one male. She sniffs the air, the scent of the two brothers imprinted on the skin of two females. The third simply smells of herself.

While the other two Fae seem to be together. Rhysand snaps his fingers and an extra chair and cutlery appears for her. She sits between her brothers, and suddenly feels shy of all the curious looks. Except for one. The female with Cassian's scent on her seems to be killing her with his gaze and seems to want to incinerate her. Selaene does not make herself look smaller, she keeps her chin up and her eyes resting on her with a calmness that seems to reassure her.

It is Rhysand who speaks first again and introduces everyone to her. “This is Feyre, my mate. I don't know- I don't know where you've been, but chances are you've heard of her.” Selaene looks at her brother and later at his mate. She obviously has no idea who she is, but she seems like a nice person. The girl smiles sweetly at her, and Selaene can only reciprocate with equal warmth. She is happy that her brother has found his happiness, but their bond makes the young woman think of Azriel. She can smell him, but it is very faint, and she would not be able to smell him were it not for the bond, which is still dead. A panic creeps under her skin, and her brother looks worried. He lays a hand on hers before asking her if she was all right.

”Uhm... where, where is Azriel?” Rhysand and Feyre smile at her. Does she know her? Has Azriel told her about her? However, it is Mor who answers. “I contacted him as soon as I saw you. He was on a mission, but now he is on his way. He is well, he has... he waited for you, Selaene.” The young woman wants to cry at the blonde's words. She nods gratefully. This time it is Cassian who speaks, introducing her mate. The sister can do nothing but smile, even more than before, unconcerned that the female has given her a glare of lightning. She seems to realize, slowly, who she really is. The gaze alternates between her and Rhysand, and finally, she smiles kindly at her as well. She offers her hand, and Selaene grasps it.

“I am Nesta.” Her grip is firm and her hands are soft but calloused. A warrior, she thinks. Just like Cassian.

“I'm Selaene, Rhysand's sister.” Nesta nods. Amren is introduced to her. She is slightly surprised, and her face hides a slight smile. She is very beautiful, Selaene thinks. Next to her is her male, Varian. And finally Elain, a sweet rosy-cheeked fawn that Selaene finds adorable.

“So you... you and Azriel?” She asks her as food is served from the House. Just like it used to be. The smell fills her nostrils and she smiles. She missed Velaris. She missed everything.

“Azriel and I are mates.” She answers simply, a tone that hides some possessiveness that makes Feyre chuckle. She pretends not to notice the fawn's slightly disappointed expression, but anger mounts inside her.

“Why?” She asks more coldly. Amren seems to care about the turn the conversation is taking, because she straightens up and hides the feline smile that appears on her face with a glass of red wine. Elain blushes.

“No, of course nothing. It was just to- just to know.” Selaene clenches her jaw, the brothers' faces pure amusement. They remember how she was always jealous. Gods, she was jealous even if one of them got too close.

“And you,” the tone is accusatory, ”do you have one? A mate?” She nods quickly.

“And where is he?”

“Far away. We didn't... We didn't get to know each other properly before.” Selaene smiles at her, a double-faced smile.

“But have you had enough time to get to know my brothers and my mate?” At those words Feyre decides to interrupt Rhys's sister's little jealousy tantrum.

“Don't worry, Selaene. Azriel, although he thought you were dead, has always had eyes only for you.” The Fae seems satisfied with her words, and rests her back on the backrest, her posture rigid now relaxed. She even giggles when she hears Nesta say, “ Possessive Illyrian.”

She looks at the three females and realizes something, too: they are three sisters. She certainly cannot blame poor Elain. The Cauldron was cruel in creating three sisters and three brothers and leaving one alone. But there was Selaene before her. And there will always be Selaene.

“We have missed you very much, Selae.” Says Cassian serving himself.

“You have changed a lot.” She responds by savoring some baked potatoes again. She almost groans when she swallows a bite. The taste long forgotten.

“Are you all right?” Feyre asks her, “Is something wrong?” She is worried.

“Yes, everything is great. It's just that I haven't eaten for a long time...”

Cassian laughingly comments, “Hell, Selaene. But where have you been?” The joke, however, does not make anyone laugh.

“I've been stuck in the UnderWorld.”

The table seems to stop breathing at those words. No one has ever returned from there.

It is Amren who speaks first, her voice charged with distrust: “No one has ever come back from there, girl.”

Selaene, proud as any Illyrian is, has no trouble keeping her accusatory gaze. Did she expect that in front of that Fae she would react the way Elain had reacted to her before? Because she is wrong in case she does.

“I did.” She says with a shrug. “It took almost five centuries, but I did it.”

“How did you keep from going crazy? Alone, in the dark, all that time?” Feyre asks while sipping wine. Everyone is incredibly surprised.

“I wasn't alone....” A motion of sadness, remorse, passes through her eyes. “Rhysand. I would like your help. We need to find my friend, Vanessa. She stayed there.” Her brother hesitates, but he can't bring himself to say no.

Cassian opens his mouth for the first time after hearing the news, “Is that why you haven't grown up?” She simply nods.

“It's also how I haven't starved all this time. I'm still wearing -- I'm still wearing the pajamas I had on that day.” Rhysand and Cassian are saddened, however, it is Nesta who asks for an explanation of what happened that day. Selaene dismisses the matter with a wave of her hand, explaining that she does not want to ruin dinner over something that happened so long ago.

“Someday I will tell you all about it. No, in fact, I'll show you, Rhys. But I don't want to think about it for at least a week. I'd like to at least see Azriel first.” He nods. Then he pours blueberry juice into her goblet. Selaene smiles; he is his usual self. He raises the glass to the air.

“Let's toast to Selaene, then."

Dinner proceeds smoothly. Feyre and Selaene seem to have established a great understanding, and her brother could not be happier: his two most important women getting along. Mor and Nesta also seem to adore her, and the latter in particular seems to love hearing all the embarrassing stories from her brothers. Elain, on the other hand, always seems a little down in the dumps when Selaene mentions her beloved mate.

“I swear to you! He came flying past my house with flowers for our mother in his hand, only there was a blizzard, and the porch was frozen, so he slipped and fainted! He stayed in bed a whole week, and all the flowers went on the floor.” The females laugh so heartily at Selaene's gossip, while the two brothers look embarrassed. Rhysand smiles mockingly before pointing out how Azriel had also fallen. And how he had cried out of worry.

“Yes, but unlike you, Rhysie, he didn't hit his head and faint because he has remarkable reflexes. I was worried about his wing.” Cassian snorts a laugh, getting a friendly pat from his brother on the bicep. Nesta would like to ask her to tell more, but footsteps echo in the air. And Selaene knows those footsteps all too well.

next chapter

[atlasthegreatest]

Alchemy of Minds / Mel Merdada x Male Reader

Mel Medarda, ever the calculating and composed Piltover leader, unexpectedly finds herself drawn to Y/n Tenwick, a bold Zaunite scientist brought to the city as an apprentice under Professor Heimerdinger. Drawn to his bold ideas and unguarded kindness, Mel begins visiting his lab, finding an unexpected companionship. Yet, she’s haunted by the dangers of this attachment in Piltover’s cutthroat society, leaving her torn between duty and a desire for something genuine.

Warning: soft angst (?)

Word count: 3791

A/n: Any grammar mistakes will be fixed later

The morning light that bathed Piltover’s marble streets was crisp, cutting through the chill of the early hours. On the balcony of a towering estate, Mel Medarda sat alone with a goblet of honeyed wine, her golden eyes sharp and calculating, as always.

Mel enjoyed being alone. Silence gave her room to think—strategize, analyze, and dismantle obstacles before they even arose. But the morning’s peace was interrupted by a sharp knock at the entrance to her estate, followed by a servant informing her of a peculiar invitation.

“Professor Heimerdinger requested that you attend today’s symposium at the Academy, Madam. He said there would be… interesting minds.” The servant bowed low, sensing Mel’s irritation, though she allowed none of it to touch her face.

Mel exhaled through her nose. Heimerdinger, with his endless optimism, had a knack for making promises about “interesting minds.” Most of those minds, however, were stuffy bureaucrats clinging to outdated ideas of order. But Mel was bored, and boredom was dangerous—dangerous for her and anyone caught in her path.

“Tell the Professor I’ll be attending,” she said, rising from her seat.

She didn’t know, not yet, that today would be the beginning of her undoing.

The symposium buzzed with the usual self-importance that Mel had grown to despise, but her entrance commanded attention as it always did. Draped in silk and gold, she glided through the hall like a queen surveying her court. Most eyes followed her—except for one.

In a far corner of the room, a young man sat with his head bent over a complex schematic, completely absorbed in his work. His unkempt hair and stained gloves marked him as out of place among the pristine scholars of Piltover. His clothes, though freshly pressed, bore the lingering smell of smoke and strange chemicals—a scent familiar to anyone who had been to Zaun.

Mel’s lips curled into a smirk. A Zaunite apprentice, here in Piltover, under Heimerdinger’s tutelage? Intriguing.

She moved closer, intrigued not just by the novelty of him but by his sheer lack of awareness of his surroundings. His focus was magnetic, a sharp contrast to the superficiality she saw in most Piltover elites. The man looked like someone who had never cared for politics, only precision.

“You seem determined to solve the mysteries of the universe without bothering to attend the actual lecture,” Mel said, her voice smooth as silk.

The man's eyes. A brief flash of panic crossed his face, but it faded into something softer—curiosity.

“I—sorry. Didn’t realize it started,” he murmured, his Zaunite accent faint but unmistakable. He straightened, pulling off his gloves and offering his hand. “I’m Y/n. Y/n Tenwick. Apprentice to Professor Heimerdinger.”

Mel studied his hand for a beat longer than necessary as if considering what kind of man would offer a handshake without realizing who she was. She took it, feeling the slight roughness of his palm. A worker’s hand. A builder’s hand.

“Mel Medarda,” she replied, watching his expression closely for a flicker of recognition. There was none. He didn’t know who she was, and somehow, that thrilled her.

“Ah. Nice to meet you, Miss Medarda,” he said, oblivious to the weight her name carried in Piltover. “Sorry about earlier. It’s just—there’s this problem I’ve been trying to solve with stabilizing Hextech particles, and I guess I lost track of time.” He chuckled nervously, brushing a streak of grease off his cheek.

Mel raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. Most men she met tried to impress her with wealth or power. Y/n, it seemed, had no such pretense. His passion lay elsewhere, somewhere genuine, raw, and entirely untouched by the delicate webs of politics that Mel wove daily.

“And have you solved it?” she asked, her voice carrying a playful challenge.

“Almost.” He grinned, the nervousness in him easing slightly. “But it keeps slipping. Like… like trying to catch smoke in a bottle. I think I’m missing something—some variable I haven’t accounted for.”

Mel tilted her head, resting her chin delicately on her fingers. “Or perhaps you’re overthinking it. Sometimes the solution is simpler than we want it to be.”

Y/n blinked at her, surprised by the comment, but instead of brushing it off, he seemed to consider it. It was a rare thing, Mel thought—someone who didn’t dismiss her out of fear or ego, but who genuinely listened.

“Maybe,” he said thoughtfully. “Or maybe the solution’s just… waiting in the right place.” He looked at her then, and for the first time, Mel saw the flicker of something unexpected—interest. Not in the way most men looked at her, as if she were a prize to be won, but as if he were seeing her for the first time, as a person rather than a political tool.

It was disarming. And dangerous.

“Tell me, Y/n,” she said, her voice softening just a fraction. “How does a Zaunite find himself under Heimerdinger’s wing? That’s no small feat.”

Y/n scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “Bit of a long story. But… the short version? I built something dangerous back in Zaun. Heimerdinger found out and thought I might do less harm if I had proper guidance.”

Mel laughed—truly laughed—and it caught Y/n off guard. “And here you are, in the heart of Piltover, still building dangerous things.”

“Old habits die hard,” he admitted with a grin, his eyes alight with mischief.

For a moment, the world outside this strange conversation faded away. Mel forgot about the political games she played and the alliances she had to maintain. In Y/n’s unpolished charm, there was no hidden agenda, no expectations—just a man who looked at the world through the lens of what could be instead of what should be.

It was a dangerous feeling, this lightness in her chest. Mel knew better than to let her guard down. She knew the risks of attaching herself to someone so far removed from her world. And yet, as she watched Y/n return to his schematic, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, she found herself wanting to stay just a little longer.

Maybe, just maybe, not every connection had to be calculated.

And for the first time in a long while, Mel Medarda felt something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.

Hope.

That evening, as she returned to her estate, Mel stood on the same balcony where her day had begun. Below her, the city glittered with light and life. But her thoughts were not on Piltover tonight.

They were on a Zaunite with ink-stained hands and a mind full of impossible ideas.

And though she knew it was foolish—knew it could lead to ruin—Mel allowed herself the smallest flicker of something dangerously close to longing.

The fractures in her golden armor were beginning to form. And she didn’t know if she wanted to stop them.

——————————

Over the next few weeks, Mel Medarda found herself drawn back to the Academy more than she would have cared to admit. Meetings and state dinners were rearranged, political allies left waiting. Each time she promised herself it would be the last visit—just a passing curiosity, nothing more—but each time she ended up in the same place: the lab tucked into the far corner of the Academy’s west wing, where Y/n Tenwick worked tirelessly under dim lantern light.

To her surprise, Y/n never seemed fazed by her sudden appearances. In a city full of people eager to curry favor or steal glances at her, Y/n treated her like a familiar shadow, neither unwelcome nor remarkable. He greeted her with an easy smile, even when his hands were buried in some strange contraption or his face was smeared with soot.

“You’re back,” Y/n would say with a lopsided grin, as if she were a colleague stopping by to chat rather than a Medarda.

And each time, Mel found herself lingering just a little longer, fascinated by the way his mind worked—so unlike the polished aristocrats she dealt with every day. His ideas were messy, chaotic even, but underneath the disorder lay brilliance. Y/n thought not in rules and limits, but in endless possibilities.

One evening, long after the sun had set, she found herself sitting on a workbench in his lab as Y/n fidgeted with a delicate device in his hands—a small sphere of polished brass, etched with intricate runes.

“It’s supposed to detect anomalies in Hextech crystals,” he explained, turning the sphere slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration. “But it keeps shorting out the second it gets near anything remotely unstable.”

Mel leaned closer, watching the way his hands moved—deft and precise, despite the chaos of his surroundings. “So what you’re saying is it works too well. It’s not detecting failure. It’s… anticipating it.”

Y/n looked up, his eyes widening slightly in realization. “Exactly!” he exclaimed, his grin spreading. “It’s rejecting anything it thinks might destabilize, even if it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Sounds like the people of Piltover,” Mel murmured with a smirk. “Refusing anything unfamiliar before it even has a chance to prove itself.”

Y/n laughed, a warm, unguarded sound that filled the small lab. “And here I thought Piltover was all about progress.”

“Progress at a carefully calculated pace,” Mel replied, a sharp edge beneath her smile. “One that doesn’t upset the delicate balance of power.”

Y/n gave her a curious look, as if seeing her for the first time in a new light. “You sound like someone who knows a lot about power.”

“Maybe.” She met his gaze, unflinching. “And you sound like someone who doesn’t care about it at all.”

He shrugged, turning the brass sphere over in his hands. “I care more about discovery than control. Power doesn’t build things—ideas do.”

Mel’s heart skipped, just for a moment. It was a dangerous way to think in a world like theirs, but it was also… intoxicating. Y/n wasn’t weighed down by ambition or fear, and that made him unlike anyone she had ever known.

“That’s a bold philosophy,” she said softly, as if testing the words on her tongue. “Not many people think that way.”

“Maybe that’s why the world’s so broken,” Y/n replied with a grin.

Mel shook her head, amused. “And here I thought it was because people keep building dangerous things in secret labs.”

Y/n laughed again, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “Fair point.”

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet hum of machinery filling the space between them. Mel found herself strangely at ease here, in a room cluttered with strange inventions and half-finished projects. There were no expectations, no masks to wear. Just the quiet companionship of two people from different worlds, drawn together by the alchemy of shared curiosity.

At some point, Y/n handed her a set of blueprints, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “Here,” he said, almost shyly. “Take a look at this. I could use another pair of eyes.”

Mel arched an eyebrow, bemused. “You want my help?”

“Why not?” he asked with a grin. “You seem like someone who knows how to spot a flaw.”

She laughed, surprised by his boldness. “Careful, Y/n. I’m not known for going easy on people.”

“Good.” He winked. “I don’t want easy.”

Mel stared at him, caught off guard by the simplicity of his honesty. There was no pretense in Y/n, no ulterior motive. Just a man who wanted to build something better, no matter the cost. And for the first time in years, Mel felt the walls she had built around herself begin to shift, the cracks widening just a little more.

It was foolish to let herself care, she knew. Dangerous, even. Y/n was a distraction—one she couldn’t afford in a city as treacherous as Piltover. But some part of her, the part that longed for something real amid the artifice, refused to let go.

“Alright, Y/n,” she said quietly, tracing a finger along the edge of the blueprints. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can build together.”

And as their eyes met across the cluttered workbench, Mel Medarda realized she was in more trouble than she had ever anticipated.

——————————

Days turned into weeks, and Mel Medarda found herself entangled in something she had not prepared for: late-night conversations over prototypes that wouldn’t work, laughter shared over failures, and moments of unexpected silence where the air felt heavy with something unspoken. Piltover’s glittering society faded into the background whenever she was with Y/n. It was a dangerous kind of indulgence, one she knew she couldn’t afford—but she kept coming back.

Y/n was a puzzle she couldn’t resist solving. His mind danced between chaos and brilliance, never fully constrained by rules or fear of failure. Where Piltover’s scientists worked within lines, Y/n thrived in breaking them. He was building something more than inventions—he was creating possibilities.

And Mel, for the first time, didn’t feel like she was playing a game. Here, in Y/n’s lab, there were no Medardas to live up to, no political alliances to manage. She wasn’t a strategist. She was just Mel.

But that freedom came with a price, and it wasn’t long before the weight of reality began to creep back in.

It was another late evening, and the two of them stood over a table littered with gears, diagrams, and shattered crystals—casualties of their latest attempt to stabilize Y/n’s anomaly detector. A thin trail of smoke curled from a busted component, and Y/n rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing at the mess.

“Well,” he said with a lopsided grin, “another brilliant failure.”

Mel smirked, watching as he absentmindedly smeared a streak of oil across his cheek. “Not every failure is a loss,” she said. “Besides, it’s not the first.”

Y/n shot her a playful glance. “Is that your polite way of saying I’m terrible at this?”

“No,” she replied, leaning in just slightly. “It’s my way of saying you’re reckless.”

He laughed, that easy, open laugh that seemed to come so naturally to him. “And you like that, don’t you?”

Mel raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting in amusement. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just waiting for you to blow something up.”

“Careful. You say things like that, and I might take it as encouragement.”

They were close—closer than they had been before. The air between them felt charged, like the moment just before a storm. Mel could feel the heat radiating from Y/n, smell the faint scent of smoke and copper that always clung to him.

She should have pulled away. She knew better. She had always known better. But Y/n wasn’t like the others who wanted something from her. He wasn’t looking for an alliance or trying to worm his way into her family’s power. All he wanted was her, just as she was.

And that, more than anything, terrified her.

“You know,” Y/n murmured, his voice softer now, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Mel’s heart stuttered in her chest, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. “I could say the same.”

For a moment, it felt as though the entire world had shrunk to the space between them. And then Y/n took a step closer, hesitating for just a breath, as if waiting for her to pull away. When she didn’t, he reached up and gently tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear.

His touch was light, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Mel wasn’t used to tenderness—she was used to power, to control. But there was no calculation in Y/n’s gaze, no hidden agenda. Just quiet, unspoken affection.

“I think you’re dangerous,” Y/n whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “And I don’t care.”

Mel swallowed, her throat tight. She had always known how to handle ambition, betrayal, manipulation. But this—this quiet honesty—was something else entirely. It was disarming in a way she hadn’t expected.

Before she could stop herself, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met, slow and tentative at first, as if neither of them quite believed it was happening. But the moment their mouths touched, something inside Mel shattered—something she hadn’t even realized she was holding onto.

The kiss deepened, and for a few fleeting seconds, there were no politics, no families, no cities divided by wealth and desperation. There was only the two of them, caught in a moment that felt both inevitable and impossible.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Y/n rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“That was… unexpected,” he said, a breathless laugh escaping him.

Mel smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. “You Zaunites do have a talent for disruption.”

Y/n grinned, brushing his thumb gently along her jawline. “Maybe Piltover could use a little disruption.”

Mel laughed softly, but the sound was tinged with something bittersweet. As much as she wanted to believe in this fragile thing between them, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Nothing ever was.

——————————

The next day, Mel’s carefully constructed world began to close in on her.

It started with a meeting—an innocuous summons from her mother, Ambessa Medarda. But nothing involving her mother was ever innocuous.

“You’ve been distracted,” Ambessa said, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. She sat with perfect poise, her gaze as piercing as ever. “And that’s dangerous, Mel.”

Mel kept her expression impassive, though her heart hammered in her chest. “I’m handling everything.”

“Are you?” Ambessa arched a brow. “Because I hear whispers. Whispers of you spending time with a Zaunite.”

Mel’s stomach tightened, but she didn’t flinch. “He’s an apprentice to Heimerdinger. A scientist. Nothing more.”

“Nothing is ever ‘nothing’ in Piltover,” her mother snapped. “You know that better than anyone.”

Mel clenched her jaw, her mind racing. She had always known that her relationship with Y/n would be dangerous—not just for her, but for him. Zaunites were not welcome in the circles Mel moved in, no matter how brilliant they were. And a Medarda could not afford to be seen consorting with someone so far beneath their station.

“This is not a game, Mel,” Ambessa continued, her voice low and deadly. “The council is watching. Your enemies are watching. One wrong move, and they will destroy you—and him along with you.”

Mel’s hands curled into fists at her sides, but she kept her voice steady. “I know what I’m doing.”

Ambessa gave her a long, assessing look. “I hope you do. For his sake.”

As her mother’s words echoed in her mind, Mel felt the weight of reality settle over her like a shroud. What had started as a reckless indulgence was spiraling into something far more dangerous.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she could control it.

But as she stood on the edge of ruin, one thought remained clear:

She would not let Y/n be another casualty of Piltover’s games.

Even if it meant risking everything.

Bonus Chapter:

The rain was falling softly over Piltover, turning the cobblestone streets slick under the warm glow of gas lamps. From the balcony of her estate, Mel Medarda watched as the drops slid off the iron railing, lost in the night below. The world outside her doors was peaceful for once, yet her thoughts were a tempest she couldn’t escape.

Y/n had become something she could no longer ignore. What began as curiosity had grown into an ache—persistent, unrelenting, and far more dangerous than any political alliance or council negotiation. She knew she should walk away. She should shut it down before the inevitable fallout began.

But that wasn’t what her heart wanted.

A knock at the balcony door interrupted her thoughts, and before she could call out, it creaked open. Y/n stepped through, rainwater glistening on his coat. He wasn’t supposed to be here—he knew it, and so did she. But the sight of him, soaked and wind-tousled, was enough to shatter her resolve.

“Y/n,” Mel whispered, half in warning, half in relief.

He grinned as he pulled off his coat, draping it over the back of a chair. “I figured you could use some company tonight.”

She should have scolded him, reminded him of how reckless this was. If anyone caught him here—

But Y/n had a way of making her forget the rules, forget the consequences.

He crossed the balcony to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke, content to listen to the patter of rain against the rooftops.

“You don’t belong here,” Mel said finally, her voice barely audible over the storm.

“I know.” Y/n’s gaze was steady, unwavering. “But I came anyway.”

Her heart twisted painfully at the simplicity of his words. Y/n never fought to earn a place in her world—he had simply shown up, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And somehow, that made it harder to resist him.

“You should leave before someone sees you,” she whispered, though the words felt hollow.

Y/n turned toward her, his expression soft. “Do you really want me to go?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the scar along his wrist—an old wound from an experiment gone wrong, a reminder of the risks he took for knowledge. For discovery.

“No,” she admitted at last, her voice breaking like the first crack in a dam. “I don’t.”

Y/n exhaled slowly, as if the weight of her confession had lifted something inside him. He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “Then let’s stop pretending we’re not in this together.”

Mel squeezed his hand, a mixture of fear and relief swelling in her chest. For so long, she had lived with caution, every move calculated, every relationship a step toward something greater. But with Y/n, there was no strategy. There was just the raw, messy truth of it.

And it terrified her.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n smiled, brushing a damp curl from her face. “Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out.”

For the first time in years, Mel felt something unfamiliar—hope. A fragile, dangerous hope that maybe, just maybe, they could make something real in a city built on lies.

They stood there for a long time, wrapped in the quiet rhythm of the rain, two souls from opposite worlds daring to believe in each other.

And in that stolen moment, beneath the shimmering veil of Piltover’s storm, Mel Medarda allowed herself to believe that some things—no matter how dangerous—were worth the risk.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Arceus Forbid Women Do Anything

Chapter 2/3 | 7,558 words | Rated T

Commandment II: Gatekeep

The self-indulgent Volo Wins AU fic has turned into non-diagetic game mechanics timeloop existential struggle with failure fic. Who's surprised

When the champion watched him during their battles, she often tried to imagine him in a different state of mind. She analyzed what she understood of his plans, was reluctantly impressed by his enduring commitment to his own aspirations. She got the best impression she could of the real Volo, a friend and a stranger and her only companion in this endless cycle of failure. She never spoke to him. The idea of conversation felt wrong, as if disturbing a scripted play or painting over a work of art. And besides, even if she managed to change the narrative through speech, her inevitable failure would render the results meaningless. She would, always, try again. Until she won, she would try again. As she approached the Temple of Sinnoh once again, the champion thought that she might be going insane. It made no sense, that she had not yet used her knowledge and practice to end this cycle. But every time she had the chance, she just… couldn’t. She would lose, retreat to the cave, call Arceus, and receive the same answer each time. Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

Read the full chapter on AO3 or under the cut:

BEFORE

The Champion of Hisui knew that something was wrong when she reached the temple’s remains.

Volo had been acting more strangely than usual in the past few weeks, as their search for the plates of Arceus drew closer to its end. Restless, lapsing into bouts of discomforting behavior that she’d struggled to explain. She’d always known there was something ironic about his friendly mercantile persona, and appreciated his genuine nature whenever it showed. Having worked retail herself in the previous world, she could never blame Volo for avoiding his job at the Ginkgo Guild, exploring ruins and attaching himself to her adventures instead. With time she had come to genuinely enjoy his company, smiling despite herself whenever he emerged to congratulate her for quelling yet another frenzied noble. And after her banishment, when he’d been the only person to truly care for her, she hadn’t hesitated to accept his comfort.

She didn’t know what exactly to call their relationship now, in the wake of her victory against Palkia and Dialga. By all intents and purposes, it felt like they were a partnership—officially as seekers of the plates of Arceus, but also as friends. He was the closest companion she had found in this world, and she’d grown to trust him near-implicitly. Volo had put himself at risk on her behalf far too many times for her to doubt his intentions now.

But, still. He was being weird. His lecture about Giratina had been pretty normal (for Volo), but the deranged laughter interrupting it? Definitely harder to explain—even for the champion, who usually delighted in Volo’s bizarre behaviors.

Of course, part of that was due to Volo himself, who was easily one of the most attractive people she had ever met. If someone else did half of the weird shit he did, she was pretty sure she’d find it annoying or even creepy. But with Volo, it was endearing. Not just because he was beautiful, or because he had a pleasant voice, or because he held himself with exceptional confidence. She was endeared because he was brilliant, and passionate about his interests, and clever in his humor, and so very sweet towards his pokémon. And he was hot.

She sometimes wondered if he felt the same way about her. But he was so focused on his studies, on the plates of Arceus, that she assumed that any kind of latent attraction would not be made a priority. Occasionally she felt the urge to just straight-up ask ‘what are we?’, but that seemed far too modern an approach. And besides, did she even want her relationship with Volo to be physical, or even explicitly romantic, outside the realm of fantasy?

She didn’t know if she could stand to lose his friendship. Volo, more than anyone else in Hisui, felt real. He was more than a sycophant, a worshiper, someone who idolized her unquestioningly for her gifts. He’d praised her successes, of course, but she’d never been ignorant to the double meanings in his words, the slight contempt of someone who wished for a life they could not have. A life she did have, thanks to the Almighty Arceus plucking her from her original time and place.

From others, praise felt shallow and meaningless. She’d saved them from misfortune, and they’d thanked her because they could continue living as they always had. But from the lonely and mysterious Volo, praise felt meaningful and true. Through his resentment he saw the many facets of her—she was not a flawless hero—and as a result, hadn’t rejected her when she appeared to have failed. He hadn’t abandoned her after she’d saved the region, either, once she’d served her great purpose. And while he was absolutely using her to find the plates, she knew that she was using him too. And that, somehow, was a greater comfort than any other connection she’d forged in this unfamiliar world.

Of course, things weren’t entirely cynical between them. Volo had shown the champion genuine moments of support, even when it had served him no purpose to do so. He’d comforted her during her banishment, blaming the people of Jubilife for their cruelty rather than telling her what she could have done differently to appease them. He had never once encouraged her to apologize. He’d given her a safe haven with Cogita and dedicated himself to assisting her with the Red Chain. All the while, he’d shown no shame about his continued association with the traitor who supposedly doomed them all.

Arceus, meanwhile, had transported its champion to Hisui with only a smartphone as a tether, offering little support beyond a mission and a vague promise upon its completion. At least when Volo was negging her, he did it to her face. With effort. While being hot about it. When he’d asked the champion for her help with the plates, taking her away from the village so they could travel the world together, it had been a no-brainer to say yes. She didn’t even really know what the plates did—just that Volo cared about finding them, and so she did too.

But, still. Something felt wrong. Something had felt wrong, ever since their last conversation with Cogita. Volo was lying to her, and after everything they’d been through she had no idea why he would. She already knew that he was more misanthropic than he acted and negligent in his merchant duties, which were the things he seemed most invested in concealing. He obviously had secrets—she knew very little of his past, for example—but those missing truths had never threatened the dynamic they’d created together. This truth, whatever it was, just felt wrong. She would not be able to proceed until it was revealed.

The champion took a deep breath, more nervous about this confrontation than any that had come before, and entered the temple ruins.

─────────────────

NOW

The challenger returned to Mount Coronet for what would surely be their final attempt at victory.

They only knew what Arceus had told them: they’d returned countless times throughout their life to battle the Champion of Hisui, and each time they had lost. Lost the battle and their memory, returning to the wilds to train the pokémon they wielded. They knew that they were nearing the end of their life, and soon enough would not be able to ascend Mount Coronet at all—yet the voice of Arceus still urged them forwards, and so they climbed.

They understood now that the Champion of Hisui was a faithless traitor, who they would need to defeat in order to earn an audience with the detested false Lord. In their younger years Arceus had not provided this information, simply requesting that she be dispatched. After several losses, though, Arceus had eventually disclosed the entire truth. Ever since that disclosure, the challenger’s mood approaching Spear Pillar was always the same: overwhelming anger towards the fallen hero who had enabled the old world’s destruction.

The challenger reached the temple again.

“Welcome back,” greeted the Champion of Hisui, motioning to a bench at the edge of Spear Pillar. “Please, take a seat.”

─────────────────

BEFORE

She thought it was rather dramatic, the way he stood at the edge of the ruins. The sky around them was vast and pink, dotted by Hisui’s seemingly eternal clouds as the sun slowly set. Volo did not face the champion and the feeling of wrongness only increased.

“The temple lies in ruins now,” said Volo, still refusing to turn around. His voice was light, distant, a kind of detached calm that she had rarely heard from the passionate researcher. “Columns cracked and broken... like pillars now turned into spears, stabbing into the heavens.”

The champion raised an eyebrow, stopping just before the stairs leading up to the viewing platform. But she said nothing.

Volo turned around then, wearing his winning merchant’s smile. “Well,” he sighed, “I detect a distinct lack of Giratina.”

The champion couldn’t help but smirk at that. It had always amused her, the way he acted like life was a comedy of errors and they had no choice but to play along. The way he’d spoken in the Celestica Ruins had been different, though—he’d been dead-serious about his own suffering and the suffering of others, deranged laughter aside.

And here was that humor again. It should have been a comforting return to form. But this time, the champion could not shake the chilling feeling that Volo was in on the joke.

“Hm?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand. His tone was unmistakably condescending. He hadn’t spoken to her like that in months, not since they’d grown to understand each other as more than merchant and hero. “Is something bothering you?”

The champion nodded stiffly. For all of her trust and confidence in their friendship, she couldn’t help but wonder—

“Ah, I do beg your pardon,” said Volo, having traded his smile for a chillingly neutral expression. “I suppose I must seem to be behaving strangely!”

He didn’t sound like himself. He put a hand on his hip.

“I daresay you deserve to know what I’m really after by now,” he told the champion, and her heart sunk.

She found herself stepping backwards, filled with incomprehensible dread. It didn’t matter what it was, it only mattered that she hadn’t possessed the sense to avoid this situation altogether. And now she had no choice but to accept that she was wrong about the only person in this world who’d ever felt right.

Volo chuckled darkly, his one visible eye noticeably changed. He looked… manic, was the only word for it. She’d seen hints of this before, but had chalked it up to passion. It had even been sweet, in small doses. But this was concerning. She wanted to reach out to him, and she wanted to leave this place before she learned exactly how foolish she had been.

The conflict left her rooted where she stood. The conflict, and the fear.

He seemed to sense that fear, his expression shifting back to an easy smile. He spoke clearly, thoughtfully, just as he had during countless discussions of history and ruins and oh, Arceus, this man might actually be insane.

“Ever since I became convinced that Arceus really does exist,” said Volo, “there has been one question that consumed my thoughts: How can I meet such a being myself?”

The champion struggled to understand the implications of his words. All things considered, that was a perfectly normal Volo thing to say, so why did everything feel so—

"It was in an attempt to answer this question that I originally sought out Giratina and had it tear open that rift in space and time,” Volo told the champion. “After all, Giratina wished to stand against Arceus.”

She blinked.

He…

He’d brought her here.

She was here, because of him.

And when she’d been banished…

“But that didn't do the trick,” Volo continued, still smiling. “So then I had you gather the fragments of the all-encompassing deity, just as the murals of the ruins directed.”

He had her.

He’d had her.

Volo closed his eyes and lifted his head to the heavens, eerily peaceful in his confession. “Eighteen plates said to be the fragments of the all-encompassing deity. You hold in your hands seventeen of them. So, you must be wondering: Where is the last one?“

He opened his eyes and removed something from his apron. A purple plate, shaped exactly like the others. “Why, it’s right here!”

That was not a customer service smile, it was a smirk. She’d seen it last when he’d playfully challenged her to battle, but nothing was playful about this challenge.

The champion stood, slack-jawed, as Volo reached for the shoulder of his Ginkgo Guild uniform. In one smooth motion he removed the jumpsuit and his hat, revealing…

Oh, he was definitely insane.

"Now hand over the plates you gathered!” Volo commanded, dressed in the most bizarre outfit the champion had ever seen in her life. He wore a chiton-shirt with a cold shoulder, a pendant with a teardrop-shaped stone, gladiator sandals, and green capri pants. Had he assembled this look in the dark?

And the hair. He had done something with his hair. His beautiful hair that the champion had always longed to see at its full length, gelled up in a deranged imitation of God itself.

It was too much. All of this was too much.

Volo’s gaze burned into her, his visible pupil having grown noticeably smaller. “I will be the one to bring them all together!"

The champion gripped the strap of her satchel. How dare he make commands, when he was the reason Arceus had brought her here? He should be begging for her forgiveness!

Volo was ranting now, seemingly to himself more than the person he’d just betrayed. "My desire to meet Arceus cannot be contained any longer! I need to know what it is! I must know what it is!"

When the champion was banished for Volo’s actions, he had comforted her. He had cared for her. Why would he have done that? Why would he have done any of this?

He stopped smiling. He spoke to her now, although part of her wished he wouldn’t. "If I can meet Arceus myself, then I may also be able to subjugate its power. And using that, I will attempt to create a new, better world!"

His words at the Celestica Ruins echoed through the champion’s head:

Ever since I was young, whenever I met with something painful or heartbreaking, I couldn't help but wonder why life was so unfair. Why I was cursed to live through such things. Of course, I imagine we all go through something like that.

The champion was pretty sure she was currently going through something like that.

“Of course,” Volo continued, “if I create a brand-new world, then the Hisui region that we currently exist in will be undone and returned to nothing. You, everyone you know, and all the Pokémon living here will vanish in an instant, as if you'd never been."

He’d brought her to this world, and now he wanted to destroy it.

Destroy her.

The champion wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound at Volo’s chest and demand that he admit that their connection was real, that she wasn’t a fool, that he regretted what he’d done to put her in harm’s way. She wanted him to be cured of this divine madness and come to his senses. She wanted him to be the person she’d grown to love—because of course she’d grown to love him, of all the people in this stupid world, instead of someone normal and unremarkable and disinterested in becoming a god.

Because that was what Volo wanted, right? To become a god? To subjugate God, and take its place?

And then he would destroy everything. This entire reality, gone. The people and pokémon within it, gone. Her, gone.

Did he really care for her so little, that he would erase her along with the rest of them?

And how deranged was she, to be more upset by the loss of his friendship than the loss of everything and everyone else?

Volo crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the champion as if he saw right through her. As if she wasn’t a person at all, but an obstacle in his way. The final barrier between him and Arceus, between his destiny and desires, in which she would have no part to play.

She would have given him the damn plates, if he had just apologized and explained. After all, it had been Arceus—not Volo—to bring her to this godforsaken place.

"If you want to keep this world from disappearing,” challenged Volo, “then face me in battle!”

She would not be giving him the plates. He didn’t deserve them, didn’t deserve to be God any more than God itself deserved to be God. Arceus and Volo—a deity and its unfashionable imitation. Honestly, in that moment, the champion despised them both.

“Not that you have a choice,” Volo taunted, grinning widely because he was insane. “Even if you don't wish to battle me, I'm not above using force to take those plates from you."

He held up a pokéball and stared down at the champion. With the slightest of nods, she removed her samurott from her satchel.

She had Arceus’s blessing and Volo clearly did not. She was going to defeat him, just as she’d defeated every other enemy in her path. Only once she’d sufficiently humiliated him in front of his god would she allow herself to process everything she’d learned.

Volo tossed out his first pokémon with a knowing smirk, his form surprisingly confident and precise. For all of his intellectual strengths, the champion had never known him to be a particularly skilled trainer.

A spiritomb emerged from his pokéball.

Clearly there were many things the champion did not know about Volo.

─────────────────

NOW

“Please,” the champion repeated, motioning to the bench beneath the heavens. “I really think you should sit down.”

The challenger scowled at her, crossing their arms over their chest. “You know why I’m here.”

She rolled her eyes. The outsider had no memory of meeting her before, but her behaviors felt familiar all the same. “Yes,” the champion sighed, “I know that you’re here to fight me.”

“And then Lord Volo.”

She smirked at that. “Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

Her attitude enraged the challenger. A wicked traitor to the god that had chosen her—unfathomable, really, in her irreverence.

“Seriously,” said the champion, looking the challenger up and down. “Sit down.”

“Why?” the challenger said, suspecting a trap.

“You look exhausted from your climb.”

She was uncomfortably earnest in her explanation. And she was correct.

“How old are you now, anyway?” the champion asked as the challenger sat. To their surprise, she sat down beside them immediately.

“Old enough to finally defeat you,” said the challenger, avoiding her searching gaze.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.” And then, thoughtfully: “It’s been quite some time since we last met. I was beginning to wonder if Arceus had decided against sending a senior citizen in its stead.”

The challenger, naturally, took offense at the insult. “How old are you, then? I assume that your lack of humanity implies a lack of mortality as well.”

She nodded with a face that appeared far too young for the person wearing it. “I do not age conventionally, that is true.”

“Can you die at all?”

“Not by natural means,” the champion said. “Although I suppose I am still flesh and blood, just like you. But you are old and frail, while my youth has been preserved. Your remaining time in this world is incredibly limited, and yet you’ve come here again—do you not have other things to do? Interests, passions? Family? Does your entire life revolve around your mission from God?”

“Does your life not revolve around your Lord?” the challenger deflected. “According to Arceus, you chose him over the entire world.”

“In a manner of speaking, I did,” admitted the champion. “Though I don’t expect Arceus to ever fully understand my decision.”

“Decision? You lost.”

Something flashed behind the champion’s eyes. It felt good to drag her down from the heavens.

“It was once said,” she told the challenger through gritted teeth, “that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results.”

It was an odd response. The challenger did not care to understand its purpose. They were indeed old and frail, and this was their final chance.

“Today,” they told the champion, “I will win.”

“Very well,” the champion said, withdrawing an ancient-looking pokéball from her fine silks. She stood up and offered her challenger a hand. They glared at it. The champion sighed, withdrew her hand, and watched as the challenger struggled to their feet.

─────────────────

BEFORE

Her final pokémon was on low health when she finally defeated Volo’s Togekiss. She had refused to speak a word during the fight, despite his taunting smiles and various confident poses. In addition to being insane, Volo was apparently also an incredibly skilled trainer. Not quite as skilled as the champion, though, as his final and most beloved pokémon returned to her ball.

Volo shook his head, still wearing that deranged smile, as he returned the pokéball to some unseen pocket in his ridiculous Arceus outfit. The champion sighed with relief, grateful that this would be over soon. He’d abandon the temple in defeat, and she would mourn his betrayal in peace. Short of physically attacking her, he had no other way to take the plates by force—and she still could not believe that Volo was capable of such brutality, when his entire goal was to create a better, fairer world.

(Honestly, if he hadn’t hurt her so profoundly in the process of achieving that goal, she thought she might admire him for his idealism.)

She shook her head. He was a hypocrite and out of his right mind. The last thing he deserved was admiration, or even an attempt at understanding. She would return to the village and forget all about him, and try her best to find someone else in this world who made sense. Maybe if Arceus saw her success, it would even return her to her world. Defeating Volo had been her ultimate mission, right?

Which…

If Arceus had sent her to correct Volo’s disturbance of the natural order, it had always known about Volo’s hidden intentions. This entire time, it had watched its chosen champion find comfort in her destined enemy, without so much as a word of caution.

It must have been intentional, then, for Arceus to keep her in the dark. But why?

“Why?” Volo demanded, now despondent in his defeat. “Why you?! Why do you have the blessing of Arceus?”

She didn’t know. He knew that she didn’t know.

“I’ve devoted myself to Arceus beyond any other!” Volo ranted, seemingly towards the heavens themselves. “I worshiped it as the creator of our entire world! I bent all of my passion and interest and study! All the time I’ve spent poring over the legends.. Everything that I’ve done—!”

The champion had served Arceus’s mission dutifully since her arrival in Hisui. Although reluctant at times, she had quelled the nobles and assembled the Red Chain. She had immediately opposed Volo, who sought to destroy the world Arceus created. This mission was her entire life—her job, her hobby, her singular purpose upon being transported to Hisui without her consent.

“You outsider!” Volo hissed, now glaring directly at the champion. “It’s almost as if you were spat out of the space-time rift just to get in my way!”

She felt a lump rise in her throat.

Volo had been the one thing, here, that she’d chosen for herself. To her, their friendship had been disconnected from her holy mission or crushing responsibilities—in fact, it had been a much-needed relief.

But the entire time, he had only viewed her as Arceus’s chosen hero. And he despised her for it.

Silent tears ran down the champion’s cheeks. He seemed not to notice, or not to care.

“No,” Volo told himself, “no, this isn’t finished yet.”

Please, she almost begged, but didn’t. She didn’t know how much more of this she could stand. But she couldn’t leave, either, not when he still posed a threat, not when she deserved answers but couldn’t yet bring herself to ask—

Volo grinned again, his derangement reaching its apparent peak. “Can’t you feel it? The chill creeping through your veins—the eldritch presence icing your heart?”

She felt something, as dark shadows began to appear behind Volo. A massive void, from which a large creature began to emerge. It screeched as Volo began to laugh, its wings unfolding and its body taking material form. The champion recognized Giratina at once, well-primed by Volo’s lecture in the Celestica Ruins.

Volo regarded her in the throes of his mania, unwilling and unable to recognize her as anything but his enemy. Perhaps that was too charitable an interpretation, but—

“GIRATINA!” Volo shouted, clenching his hands as if they already held the plates of Arceus. “STRIKE HER DOWN!”

He laughed again, his eyes wide and his body hunched, as Giratina roared.

The champion released her final available pokémon, which only possessed a quarter of its health. She then turned on her heel, summoned Wyrdeer, and headed for the temple exit, using the ill-fated battle as a brief distraction. She ignored the sound of her fainting pokémon and Volo’s confused yelling as she pulled her Arcphone from her satchel and held it to her ear.

“You have to stop him,” the champion demanded as she entered the passageway beneath the peak of Mount Coronet. The cave was cool and blessedly quiet, and she only stopped moving when she received her response.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

─────────────────

NOW

As always, the challenger had put up a very good fight.

“Will this be the last time I see you?” the champion asked, almost bored in her victory. The challenger just glared at her, returning their fainted pokémon to their pocket.

“One can hope,” they said, and revealed their knife. If repetition with the expectation of different result was insanity, then they were no longer insane. Because this approach, this last-ditch effort, was entirely unprecedented—even to Arceus itself.

Using their last reserves of energy and strength, the challenger seized the woman. Short of stature and physically softened by ages of casual godhood, she could show little resistance to even the oldest of heroes. And, of course, there was the matter of the blade held to her throat.

“He will lower himself from the heavens and face me,” the challenger said between gritted teeth. The champion swallowed.

“Arceus has driven you to this,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Lord Volo has driven me to this. Arceus has only ever encouraged me to be better.”

“Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.”

The challenger’s eyed widened. “How do you…?”

The champion sighed. “I heard it too. Every single time.” She was infuriatingly unfazed by the threat to her life. “How relieving it must be,” she said, “to lose the memory of each of your losses.”

“I find it rather inconvenient, actually,” shot back the challenger, holding the blade closer to her throat.

The champion smiled sadly and shook her head.

─────────────────

BEFORE

Eventually, she found herself trying to lose.

The fight with Volo had become like second nature to the champion, who since her first attempt had assembled the ideal team to counter his specific pokémon and fighting habits. Arceus knew she had been given enough attempts to observe him, some of which ended before Giratina even appeared. Volo was undeniably skilled, and dedicated to his own victory in a way that consistently astounded the champion. But while each new battle seemed to be Volo’s first, his memory struck of previous victories and defeats, the champion remembered everything.

At this point, she knew Volo almost entirely as the man she’d truly met atop Mount Coronet. Memories of their previous friendship lingered in small instances, but she had lost much of her attachment to his formerly comforting presence. This made it easier for her, as Arceus’s champion, to study and practice and try again and again and again.

She was confident, now, that she could defeat him. Him and Giratina, and then she would finally witness the world after such events transpired. Would he give up immediately, or try to harm her further? Would they finally speak as their true selves, or would he just disappear? If he did disappear, would he be gone forever?

The champion was still far from completing the the Pokédex and meeting Arceus, who only potentially could send her home. In the meantime, she would still be stuck in Hisui, alone. Almost certainly without him.

The outfit was not… irredeemably ill-conceived. With some modifications, she could understand the vision. And it would be easy for Volo to take down the Arceus style, allowing his hair to flow naturally. When the champion watched him during their battles, she often tried to imagine him in a different state of mind. She analyzed what she understood of his plans, was reluctantly impressed by his enduring commitment to his own aspirations. She got the best impression she could of the real Volo, a friend and a stranger and her only companion in this endless cycle of failure.

She never spoke to him. The idea of conversation felt wrong, as if disturbing a scripted play or painting over a work of art. And besides, even if she managed to change the narrative through speech, her inevitable failure would render the results meaningless. She would, always, try again. Until she won, she would try again.

As she approach the Temple of Sinnoh once again, the champion thought that she might be going insane. It made no sense, that she had not yet used her knowledge and practice to end this cycle. But every time she had the chance, she just… couldn’t. She would lose, retreat to the cave, call Arceus, and receive the same answer each time.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

There had been a few close calls, where she’d almost won. Especially against Giratina, she often stood a very good chance. But then she would remind herself that this was not fair in the slightest, because she had been given infinite chances to practice and strategize. Yes, Volo had technically cheated as well, but abusing Arceus’s blessing in such a manner simply felt cheap.

That was what she told herself. Eventually, someday, she would see an opportunity for victory that she could truly call fair, and she would take it. But until then, she would just have to lose.

And he would still be here. Insane, but here.

Insane.

She was going insane.

“I think I’m going insane,” she told Arceus after yet another loss.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“I know I’m going insane.”

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“Why don’t you try, for once?” the champion challenged, gripping the phone tightly.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

And then, she thought it. For the first time in what felt like an eternity of repetition, she finally thought something new:

“Why can’t I lose?” the champion asked, her voice shaking as tears ran down her cheeks. She did not understand what she was asking, exactly—she could not lose because Arceus had blessed her, that much was already obvious. The world, this world, worked in her favor in some unearned and unwanted way. Yes, she could retreat from the mountain at any time to train her team, but that still left Volo up in the temple, nearly indistinguishable from the person she had grown to love. He would not follow her, would not attempt to seize the plates by any other means, seemingly frozen in time and place by divine circumstance. She would never have her former friend back, and if she moved forward, Arceus would never allow her to befriend him as he was now.

And she—

She would just keep going, in Volo’s absence. If not this battle, she would be fighting another. Again and again and again, until Arceus deemed her worthy. Arceus, who had lied to her, manipulated her, taken her from her home without her knowledge or consent. Who had created this world and its mysterious mechanics, blessing—no, cursing—her to endure.

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

God’s champion hung up the phone.

─────────────────

NOW

Much to the challenger’s surprise, Lord Volo had not immediately arrived to save his champion.

“He can see this, right?” they demanded, as their arms grew increasingly tired around her.

She scoffed. “Of course he can.”

“So why isn’t he coming? Perhaps he cares less for you than you believed.”

The champion met the challenger’s gaze. “He knows that you would never actually murder me. That is not becoming of the world he designed.”

The challenger narrowed their eyes. This had always been a possibility. “Fine,” they said. “But would your Lord stand by while you are in pain?”

For the first time, the champion looked afraid. “I—”

The challenger plunged their knife into her fine white silks.

─────────────────

BEFORE

The champion surrendered.

It was not a victory, nor was it any sort of defeat she had experienced before. Instead of intentionally losing the fight, she had refused to even allow its commencement. She had approached Volo where he stood, suspended in space and time, and offered him her satchel containing the plates of Arceus.

He stared at it, pupils shrunken and hungry. A smile crept onto his face. “How precious,” he said, almost tenderly. “You only needed a moment to think, before deciding to see things my way.”

The champion scowled. To him, it had been only a moment.

“You’re insane,” she said, showing no resistance when he began to take the satchel from her. He paused, though, upon hearing her first words towards his true self.

“Did you not listen in the ruins?” he asked, slight irritability piercing through his mania. “My reasoning is entirely rational. If God did not want to run the risk of its power falling into our hands, it should not have created its plates on our mortal plane. It is my right to seize them, and use that power to create a better world.”

“You could make this world a better place.”

Volo shook his head, smiling sadly. “Can’t be done. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“You made it better for me.”

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She was so, so tired.

Volo narrowed his eyes, pupils still tiny but slightly more focused. “Whatever could you mean by that, hero?”

“You know my name,” said the champion, cursing her voice for cracking at the last word.

Volo looked properly confused, now. Especially as the champion began to shake. “What are you—”

“Just take it,” the champion said, feeling that lump in her throat again. She had felt so strong, when she’d hung up the ArcPhone in the cave. Self-assured, energized by the notion of ending this vicious cycle. It had seemed, if only for a moment, that she had found a way to truly win.

This did not feel like winning.

“Just fucking take it,” the champion repeated, shoving the satchel towards Volo. He did without further comment, but did not immediately dig inside. He only watched her, still far from sane but seemingly calmer at least.

Volo furrowed his brow. “You said I made the world better, for you. But I was using you. I am the reason for your existence here. You should hate me.”

The champion shook her head as a tear ran down her cheek. “I don’t hate you.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

She winced.

Volo studied her carefully. “What,” he said, “do you think your god would say of this?”

The champion shut her eyes. “Arceus doesn’t care about me.”

“Of course it does. It has chosen you to receive its blessings. It loves you, as it will never love—” Volo cut himself off, though of course she understood how the sentence would have ended.

The champion felt pathetic as she met his eyes. “I love you.”

He blinked. “How?”

“I just do.”

Volo began to pace, shifting into a paranoid state. “A trick from Arceus,” he muttered to himself, clutching the satchel close to his chest. “A test? No, a safeguard—a temptation…”

A temptation?

“This is all by design,” Volo continued to ramble, “If I allow for this endearment, for this enduring desire—”

Enduring desire?

“I must be strong. There must be a better world. I must not allow myself to—”

“Was any of it real?” the champion asked, point-blank.

“Yes,” Volo said at once.

“Which parts were fake?”

“The parts that mattered.”

She narrowed her eyes, trying to understand. Volo sighed.

“The parts vital to my mission,” he clarified, “were false. The merchant charade, the search for the plates.”

“And that’s what mattered?”

Volo avoided her eyes. “Nothing else can matter in this world,” he told the champion. “Nothing else will remain.”

He looked haggard, as if this was a truth he’d refused to admit to himself before having it forced from his lips.

“It has never been my intention to carry over unwilling parties,” Volo reluctantly explained. “Involuntary acquiescence has no place in my better world.”

“What about lying and manipulation?” the champion asked. “And erasing everyone and everything that came before it?”

Exhausted, Volo gave his response: “I said ‘better.’ Not perfect.”

After a moment, the champion replied. “It mattered,” she said quietly. “To me.”

“Your mission?”

“Us.”

Volo regarded her as if for the very first time. “Us.”

She stepped forward slightly, reaching for his hand. He allowed her to take it, using the other to clutch her satchel.

“Do you want them to remain, in your new world?” the champion asked, looking into Volo’s wide exposed eye. “The parts that were real?”

He gave the slightest of nods.

She could not have him in this world. She could either continue this endless loop of suffering, or defeat him and likely never see him again. And it wasn’t just Volo who mattered, but the champion herself—with Arceus as her god, she knew that she would never truly be free.

“Is this the right decision?” she asked Volo, squeezing his hand tightly. He gently leaned down to place her satchel on the temple floor, then used his other hand to stroke her face.

“Must there always be a right decision and a wrong decision?”

“I should be ashamed.”

“I disagree.”

“What if I’m insane?”

“I would say that you are just as sane as I am,” Volo reasoned, “if you wish to remain by my side.”

The champion frowned. “That is not a reassuring statement.”

“It is all I can offer,” Volo said, holding her hand to his heart. Then, with a small smile: “That, and—”

He kissed her on the lips. When he pulled back, his eyes were almost back to normal.

“So?” Volo asked, eager and curious just as the champion had remembered him. Her heart ached with the comfort of familiarity—lost in the cycle of repetition, she hadn’t even realized how much she missed her former friend.

“It’s not perfect,” she said, “but it’s better.” She allowed herself to finally relax as Volo held her close.

Keeping one arm around his champion’s waist, Volo leaned down to retrieve the satchel once again. Despite her divine mission, the champion did not intervene.

“Very good,” Volo praised. His voice was warm and earnest, lacking the condescension one would usually associate with such a statement. “Now, rest. You’ve done more than enough already.”

And with that, at least, the champion could wholeheartedly agree.

─────────────────

NOW

Lord Volo appeared at once.

The challenger stepped away from the champion, their hands shaking as the knife clattered to the temple floor. Violence was a rare occurrence in this world, and murder was almost entirely unheard of—yet here they were, resorting to the former and possibly the latter as a desperate final effort.

“This was my mission,” the challenger prayed to Arceus as a figure descended from a shimmery stairway to the heavens. “Now please, give me strength...”

Thou hast been defeated in battle. Thou shalt try again.

“No, I haven’t! I’ve won—look, he’s coming now!”

Lord Volo was a tall man, appearing much as he’d been depicted in historical records and famous works of art: blonde, pale, draped in white silks resembling those of his champion. He reached the bottom stair and stepped onto the world he had created, barely giving the challenger a glance as he walked right by.

Thou hast been defeated in battle, the voice of Arceus said. Thou shalt try again.

But the challenger was not beaten yet.

They reached for the knife, even as their joints ached. Lord Volo disappeared the weapon with a flick of his wrist. He then took his champion in his arms and placed her onto the bench, speaking words that the challenger could not hear.

She seemed to be speaking, as well. Alive. Despite everything, the challenger felt relief at that.

There was a sort of peace, in knowing that this was the challenger’s final try. Their pokémon were fainted, their god had seemingly abandoned them, they had compromised their own values out of desperation after a lifetime of repeated failures. Now, Lord Volo would disappear them just as he had the knife.

At least in oblivion, the challenger would finally be able to rest.

The champion muttered something more to her god, who then turned to face the challenger. He did not look happy, but seemed to be exercising some kind of restraint.

He looked back at the champion, who nodded. Lord Volo sighed.

“Very well,” he said, and flicked his wrist again. The challenger inhaled sharply, and then they

─────────────────

In the heavens, he saw to her healing.

“I’m sorry,” Volo said for what felt like the millionth time, although it would never truly be enough. He held a hand over his champion’s wound, glowing gold with healing light. “I’m sorry, and I love you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” the champion said, kissing the side of his other hand. “The rosiness had begun to return to her skin, her deific attire now clean of the blood that had stained it. “I understood the risks of going down there undisguised.”

“That isn’t supposed to happen, though,” Volo said, trying to mind his temper as he channelled healing towards the champion’s wound. “Violence and murder, they’re not—not a part of our world.”

“Neither is the voice of Arceus,” the champion countered. “But even from within its containment, it still finds a way to haunt its champion.”

She glanced pointedly towards the pokéball on Volo’s hip. He had wielded its power to destroy the old world and create this one anew, to grant himself and his partner endless life and a home in the heavens above. He supposed it made sense that if Arceus’s power still existed in this world, its voice could never truly disappear.

“What will happen now?” Volo asked, shifting slightly against the headboard of their bed. “Will there be another challenger?”

“Probably,” said the champion. “Eventually.”

“But the one who…?

“I think they’re safe. An infant without memory of their past life, reborn free of Arceus’s influence. Of all the people in this world, why would it choose them again?”

Volo frowned, thinking of the recent confrontation. “I wanted to destroy them, for what they did.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here,” teased the champion, “to make sure you don’t repeat old patterns.”

He smiled fondly, thinking of the many way they’d helped each other create this new world from the ashes of its predecessor. Not only was his champion beautiful, but she was also brilliant—always had been, although he’d been rather slow on the uptake. In Volo’s defense, he’d very much written her off as a loss before her surrender on Mount Coronet. It had been a matter of strategy, to avoid considering her inner life.

“Can I ask you something?” said Volo, watching his champion with endless interest. She nodded. “What changed your mind, in the cave?”

She looked surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

“On the day that the old world fell, you initially ran away,” Volo recalled. “Disappeared into the passageway for only a moment, then emerged again to hand over the plates. Why?”

The champion appeared conflicted, which was not the desired outcome of Volo’s questioning. He had his suspicions, based on previous reactions around the subject, that this was not a memory she often wished to revisit.

“I felt defeated,” the champion said, “so I tried something new.”

Volo couldn’t help but think of the challenger, who his champion had always seemed to care for despite the annoyance they caused. Even after their unfathomable act of violence, she had insisted that Volo reincarnate them rather than destroy them entirely.

“Something new?” he asked the champion, as he felt her pain ease beneath his fingertips. “Had there been… something before?”

She nodded. “Over and over again. And I remembered everything.”

A chill ran down Volo’s spine. With this revelation, the champion’s requests to borrow his spiritomb while facing Arceus’s challenger made an entirely new sort of sense.

“You never told me,” he said.

“In a way, I did,” she replied with a soft smile. “When you suggested that we were both insane, I didn’t disagree.”

Still so very cryptic. Volo kissed the champion’s forehead, vowing to someday learn every secret within it.

“And how do you feel now?” he asked as the stab wound faded entirely from her skin. Good as new.

His champion regarded him knowingly, lovingly, shamelessly.

“I feel better.”

[alicentsgf]

hi, i might just be a touch too young have other things keeping me from getting this - but i've never really understood how the baby becoming a sacrifice (despite already being a stillborn; like ive always seen what happened as best case for the baby so it just really confuses me) is on the same like level as what she had to do to javi. you just explain shaunas brain really well and i was curious if you would be able to go into that / explain it a little ?

yeah of course! i mean i can only say how i interpret it and i think its impossible to really quantify trauma but for shauna losing her child and everything that came with it was the most deeply traumatic experience she endured imo, especially with how closely connected it was to jackies fate. javi's death and shaunas role in it was more the straw that broke the camels back, in terms of changing her irrevocably.

having witnessed someone close to me experience it, its hard to describe how deeply traumatic losing a child is, even one you never really knew or wanted to begin with. just the act of holding a dead baby is an impossibly awful experience, and shauna did it for days. and im sure if she'd dared to think about it she would have known logically how bad the chances were for the baby, but that wouldnt have stopped her hoping. even when you actually know someones going to die, the loss doesnt truly hit you until afterwards. and then you have to consider all the additional stress as well. she had everyone piling their hopes on her, excited for the baby, assuming it would change things for the better. it must have felt like such a huge burden. this child is the result of a decision that led to her best friends death. led to shauna eating her to stay alive. if the baby dies... what the hell was that all for. what does she have left to show for it. not to mention she had lottie growing strangely attached, making shauna fear what she had planned. we see this represented in shaunas nightmare, where lottie inserts herself to the extent of breastfeeding. then shauna sees her friends covered in her childs blood - they'd ripped him apart and consumed him, and maybe that was what she'd feared all along, except not so literally; that her child would never truly be hers, because this strange hierarchy might give someone like lottie the power to rip him away. its a lot to process, as if a traumatic stillbirth without pain relief at 18 isnt enough to be getting on with.

and in the end that nightmare shauna had does kinda comes true. because lottie does steal her baby, and the others do consume him. they're cannibalising his memory, cannibalising shaunas grief. hes not a person, hes not hers, hes some kind of totem or diety for a religion shauna doesnt believe in. she cant even go to his grave and grieve peacefully, hes public property and so is she by association. its why akilah's headdress pissed her off so much, because yet again what she wants or needs isnt considered, when really in this scenario they should all be deferring to her. she doesnt even have anyone to lean on in her grief because to the others her son isnt a baby who would grown up to be someone someday, hes just a sacrifice. worst of all shes told he had to be sacrificed to keep HER alive. nobody even thinks about how guilty this must make shauna feel. how heartbreaking it must be to be told 'your child needed to die for you to live because we need you more'. its a callous, selfish thing to express, even if they didnt mean any harm by it and even if it makes logical sense. shauna doesnt believe in the wilderness, but she knows the others at least believe they chose for her. whether their ritual worked or not, it was not their place to do that. she didnt want to die, but any decision made should have been hers alone. so now it feels like shes surrounded every day by people who see her like a tool to be used. shes necessary, they needed her, so her baby had to die.

ultimately this means that in the end shaunas trauma isnt just centered on the event itself - the pain and loss of a stillbirth, but all the other circumstances surrounding it that make shaunas experience so desperately isolating and painful. trauma doesnt just happen in moments, and for shauna this is an ongoing traumatic experience thats lasted at least a year at this point, since the moment she realised she was pregnant. and its happening on top of the already extremely traumatic circumstances they're all enduring.

so whilst the night she butchered javi is of course deeply traumatic, its more of a transformative garnish on top of the mountain of other stuff shauna was already experiencing. i think its more that something clicked in her brain that night, carving him up, exposing herself to something so deeply harrowing, and then not getting chosen to lead. she feels that shes not respected, shes just a means to an end. that they all see the knife in her hand, even when shes not holding it. its why they needed her alive, and not her child. and so in feeling that fuel a rage in her, she became compelled to find some type of power in the role she has. and when all you have is a knife, theres really only one way to grasp at power.

[phonefaceenthusiast]

Vanny's interactions with Jack and Dave

If i wrote an interaction between them (before you ask: no, i do not ship her with either of them) i'd have her act as a "younger sibling that you're forced to bring along with you" type character.

'Nessa would probably join one of Dave's schemes cause "sounds fun, why not" (he didn't even approach her or something, she just decided on her own to become a part of it).

Jack is fed up/tired of these 2 the whole way through but he keeps it to himself and endures their mischiefs; Meanwhile, Aubergine Man is initially against bringing her along ("it would be gay to have a woman on the team", as Doggy Daddy himself put as Ourply man justification). 10 minutes latter he goes "nvm i take it back" since he quickly gets overly attached to people who are friendly towards him.

Even before Henry he was likes this: it stems from the fact that he was uncared and unloved during his entire childhood and most of his teen years, only having TWO (now three) people in his life that moderately berated him; OF COURSE he'd cling to any sort of positive interaction he had with them.

Obviously, he won't be desperately clingy towards Van like he is with Jack or Henry, it would be someone he somewhat cares about but not by much, a middle ground between the two extremes of Eggplant Man's interactions: He either unconditionally cares about someone or couldn't give a shit if they died, and this would be an unique exception:

Between "All of this is for you, I will stalk you for as long as i can walk on this planet" and "Peter can go fuck himself" there's "Yeah she's cool she fly-kicked the plastic gremlin as a distraction while i lured the kids, awesome".

So basically she partially distracts him from how lonely he truly is, and he appreciates that, but it's FAR from enough, he NEEDS Jack and Henry's to feel complete company.

Davey's care-o-meter: Henry>>>Jack>>>>>>>>>>Vanny>>>anyone else>>>>>>>>>Matt

On the other hand: Jack.

If he sides with them (that's the general assumption) i like to think he'd have to basically babysit her so that she doesn't turn Chica into a shrapnel bomb or something (plus the idea of a zombie having to babysit a grown ass woman on her 20s is hilarious).

He does not want to do this AT ALL but he'd do it for her own safety, for Toy Freddy's shins sake.

I could see him snapping and lashing out on her if she pisses him off enough, maybe beating her up depending on route (Legacy 100% bitchslaps her here, Neutral would have a misogynistic meltdown and get cancelled) but the more reasonable Jacks would at most just yell/cuss at her.

Y'all ever watched a movie with the "tired babysitter" trope? Yeah, it would be them, except the demonic child is on enough crack to kill 3 (fast)bears.

In a way, he's kinda being forced into a older brother role again so you could draw parallels to his relationship with Dee aswell as evidencing how he was affected by her death, making it pretty clear how devastated and broken he is now. He just can't do it anymore. He can't care anymore.

Everything Goes to Shit Part 2: Everything goes to shit even faster Staring Jack Kennedy feat. Vanessa (Directed by Bono)

Anyways that was a lot so uhhhhhh- bye?

[rosejigglypuff76]

(オレカバトル) Oreca Battle OC - Kuroe Shiomi 📖

Kuroe Shiomi (汐見 黒江) 📖 Oreca Battle Anime OC (オレカバトル)

Birthday: July 4 🎀 Age: 15 🎂 Gender: Female ✨ Sexuality: Demisexual 💜 Occupation: Junior Novelist 🖋️ Main Oreca Type: Water 💧

Kuroe's Oreca Team: 🫧 *Powan - 4 Star Water Mage (Starter Oreca) *Usanushi - 2 Star Water Beast *Jeannie - 3 Star Water Warrior *Juraj - 3 Star Earth Warrior *Azul - 3 Star Water Warrior *Cilcone - 1 Star Water Tribe

~~~

🎀 Character Info 🎀

Kuroe is the daughter of a famous novelist Kaiyo Shiomi. She is just as talented and well-known as her father. Using her passion with video games in the fantasy genre to get inspiration when writing her short novels relating to its sub-genre urban fantasy.

Many know Kuroe as a calm and dedicated girl who drives her heart into the ideas she ends up with. However to everyone else's back she's cold-hearted and severely blunt, all while showing a stoic but completely no-nonsense look and tone.

That side of Kuroe came from the fact that her father Kaiyo was someone she admired throughout her childhood, but ended up passing away a few years ago. Even more unfortunate since it happened a couple of days after she published her very first book. Even though she has a great bond with her mother and older sister, Kuroe couldn't get over the passing of her father whom she's the closest to.

Her true personality is limited to her family and a few others, but eventually reveals it to the Oreca Boys the more she hung out with them. That being a sisterly-figure whose passion shows one upbeat and understanding girl deep within all that stoic composure.

~~~

🎀 How Kuroe Became an Oreca Battler 🎀

Every now and then Kuroe would head to the arcade closest to where she lives. That's when she first got into Oreca Battle, and unknowingly met her Starter Oreca named Powan Mizuchi. She went there a slightly more often than before in order to try coping with her father's passing, getting ideas for more upcoming stories that she wrote and published as time went on.

One day however, all of the Oreca Cards ended up vanishing. Almost every single card that Kuroe got when playing the arcade game all gone in a matter of seconds. All except for one particular card, her 4 Star Water Mage and who was essentially her starter Powan. It was also there when Kuroe met Pandora, who was modeled after a certain piece of the arcade cabinet.

Pandora explained to Kuroe that a strange power has surged and caused a hectic amount of chaos with the Orecas in the dimension he came from. He instructed the young novelist to use her one and only card, which summoned Powan. No longer just a video game character, but is now right in front of Kuroe in real life. Powan in particular had grown very attached to Kuroe, looking up to her like a big sister-figure. Even taking up the physical form of her 2 Star Stage, but having the abilities and overall strength as her 4 Star Stage.

Kuroe immediately accepted Powan with open arms, showing her upbeat side to someone that wasn't a family member of hers. Impressed by the turn of events, Pandora offered Kuroe a deal. She can fight alongside Powan in a real life Oreca Battle, allowing the former to make a couple of friends and grow strong bonds with others.

The young novelist agreed with taking the deal, but not to make friends. As she's afraid to get too attached to others, not wanting to deal with the same pain that she felt when her father passed away. Instead she agreed because she wanted to be there by Powan's side, because at this point she's more like a little sister to her rather than a friend. Although she didn't say that in front of Pandora nor Powan.

~~~

🎀 Kuroe Shiomi - Art Vector 🎀

[yantalia545]

Can we get a part two for your motherly s/o? Except this time with the nations that have/had kid colonies. And the dynamic they have is a teamwork between a romantic yandere (Britain, France, Spain) and a platonic yandere(America, Canada, Romano).

They met when the chibi got lost and she helped them get back to their caretakers. But the chibi got attached to her so she decided to visit them when she has time. But as years go by both father and son are getting uncomfortably clingy towards her, her motherly nature filled in the absence left by the father and her concerned and nurturing nature for the adults made some days easier for them that they can't help but fall in love with her. It reached to the point where they really believed that she is their mother/wife and scared away anyone who dare tried to take her away from them. Even when the chibi grew up and is independent, he still supports his former caretaker.

"She's my/his wife, she just doesn't know it yet"

This one made my head spin @~@. So many ways to go about this.

May need to make a husband vs husband post after this. What do you guys think?

England:

England is a bit of a hardhead and a little hard to get along with at first, but he'll come along and appreciate your efforts eventually.

For a little while, when you first started coming around with America, he was a little jealous of you. England has never taken care of anyone before, but you seem to be able to do it with ease. He most likely will throw you out the first handful of times you come around just because he won't admit that he doesn't exactly know what he's doing and needs help. Only after America throws constant tantrums for you to come back will England finally put his ego to the side and call you back.

England is used to others being cocky and even very passive-aggressive around him, so when you first walked in the door and you gave him a long hug, he was very caught off guard. He even treated you horribly. Why are earth are you wing so kind to him?

America on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier to finally see you around again. He had someone else who would play with him. If you can keep up with him too, all the better.

Fairly quickly after that whole endeavor, America grew close to you. England was a very busy man and had lots of things that needed his constant attention. It was nice to have you around to fill in when England couldn’t be around. Not to mention, you were a little more easy-going than him too. America just felt more at ease when you were around. England wasn’t yelling at him as much. You made England softer and kinder towards him.

It was nice. To England, it was almost like you were married. Like a family. That world never failed to flutter England; family. You guys were a family. A real family. Finally, just like he’s always wanted. Unlike his nasty brothers that were always so rude to him. He had you; the glue to it all.

As America become older and started fights over independence, things began to grow tense. England was terrified of the feeling that his perfect family was beginning to fall apart. What was worse, you supported it. You tired to argue that America was grown now but England was too stubborn to let his family go.

England fought tooth and nail to preserver his family, but in the end, America still managed to get away from him and gain his freedom. That’s when things took a turn for the worse for you.

You betrayed him. You supported America leaving and because of your help, America managed to break away from him and gain his independence. You may be America’s mother, but you’re still his wife. You’re supposed to support him above all others.

You will be punished for this and England will be very snappy but also clingy to you for a while. Don’t hold it against him though, it was all your fault for breaking apart his family.

At one point, America will try to step in between the two of you out of concern. England has shown some dark sides of hisself thought out their time in war and was afraid for you safety. Knowing England for many years himself, America just knows that England is up to some terrible things when it involves you. Especially when he’s well aware of England’s affections for you.

The two will most likely fight often over you. Bickering in meetings especially.

“Why isn’t (y/n) allowed to come meetings anymore!?”

“Has anyone else been able to contact (y/n) yet?! Or is she just yours!”

These are all true, you haven’t been present in meetings in years and anytime someone tried to contact you, England will throw a fit and forbid you from responding to them. They’ll poison your mind and take you away from him. England’s already lost his brothers and son, he won’t lose his wife too.

The dynamic between these two is serious competition. Your son, America, will do anything he can to protect you while your husband, England, will do whatever it takes to keep what’s left of his family with him.

France:

France already had a good handle on being a good parent. Not to mention that Canada is a much easier child to handle than America is. However, France is still over the fence at the thought of you wanting to join his family.

With you around, his family is complete just like France has always wanted. Countries can produce children like regular humans can, so this was the best next thing. He, like England, has been dreaming for this moment. A family to call their own.

France will often brag about how wonderful his family is now that you're here. Especially to England just to rub in his face. France just couldn't be happier with you here. No one is going to take this euphoric feeling away from him.

You thought he was just being funny, but to France, he was serious. Ever since...you know who, he's dreamed of having a wife and a family to call his own, as I've mentioned before.

You'd go along with the joke, thinking that he was just being France. That was until France began to invest in your relationship.

It started off small and you ignored or played into them for Canada. Holding Canada's hand together, singing the little nation to sleep. Even cooking together was all things that you were doing for Canada's sake, not his. You didn't mind if they helped France out too . You wanted to lighten his burden as a caretaker. That was until things started to get a little too uncomfortable for you.

France had tried to kiss you on his way out the door. Luckily, he only managed to kiss your cheek when you turned away from him. You didn't wish to alarm Canada as you knew he was a nervous nelly, so you knew you'd have a discussion with France when Canada was asleep tonight.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. You should have just run. Called England up to watch Canada and ran that day, because when France came home that night, it would be already too late.

He was having a secret meeting with your bosses today. Well, it wasn't intended to be a dirty secret. It was meant to be a surpise. France had decided a long time ago that he was going to marry you. Today was the day he'd finally put it all into place.

With a smile on his face and the most beautiful ring he could find, France practically skipped home that day. Excited to ask you the big question. France was a little worried about you avoiding his kiss that morning, but he pushed it to the side as just morning brain. If just a kiss can get you so nervous just wait until he tells you the big news.

When you rejected his proposal, he was shocked. What do you mean you don't love him? Isn't that why you lived here? To join his family?

No. No. No. No. NO! He won't have it. You do love him! France knows you do. You're just nervous and confused but don't worry, France will be a good fiance and husband and take care of you every step of the way. It's not like you can really say no when your boss already signed the papers.

Canada will be confused as he suddenly sees you less and less. Where did you go? What does France mean by needing to "heal" you? Are you sick? While France has his hands full with conditioning you he won't have a lot of time to spend with Canada. Being that he doesn't receive attention from others, this will impact Canada greatly. He'll start to cling to you more when you are allowed out. Unknowingly pushing the idea that your defiance is only hurting the family.

Spain:

Little Romano is quite the handful, so when you came around to offer your help Spain was more than happy to accept. If only Romano would behave himself and not catcall you.

What is he to do about that boy. :')

To Spain's surprise, he does see Romano settling down at some point during your visit. Romano just can't act tough forever. Not when you're pampering him like no other. Spain almost couldn't believe it when he saw Romano curled up against your side while you slowly pat his head. Careful not to touch his precious curl. Your voice was so beautiful as you sang a soft tune from your homeland. Romano was blissfully listening with a soft smile; Nealy asleep.

That day, you looked so heavenly in Spain's eyes. Like a goddess who tamed a wild beast. He almost couldn't believe that this wouldn't last forever. You would have to go home eventually as you were only a visitor.

If only there was a way you three could stay like this forever.

After that, Spain made sure to invite you over all the time. With the help of a fussy Romano who just wouldn't calm down until he saw you again, you spend an enormous amount of time at Spain's house. Much to their delight.

Whenever you were around, Spain could delve into his fantasy about being a happy family and Romano could have something that his stupid younger brother can never take away from him.

Despite Romano's hard exterior, he really is just a scared little child who was hurt by the abandonment of Rome and the overshadowing of his preppier brother, Italy. All he ever wanted was to feel seen and wanted. You were perfect.

You never once compared him to Italy or picked on him. You were always so calm and gentle but knew just how to put him back in his place. (You are quite terrifying when tempered). For that, Romano holds a lot of respect for you that carries on into his adulthood. He most definitely sees you like a mom. His mom. Not his brothers; Just his.

Spain is more than happy to use Romano's perspective of you to his advantage. If Romano sees you as his mom, then that must mean that you're also his wife. The three of you are a little, happy family.

Being a loving country, it doesn't really take Spain too long to propose to you. He was just so certain that you were dying to say yes. When you mention that you only see Spain as a friend and that you were only looking to help with Romano it shatters him. What do you mean you don't love him? Isn't that why you come around so often?

Spain takes your rejection very harshly. His mind just won't stop spinning with all these nagging questions and insecurities. Could you be seeing someone else? Taking care of another person's child?

This won't hold well for you. Spain most likely will be taken over by his rolling thoughts and lock you in his basement until you reconsider. He doesn't want to scare Romano, so he'll tell him lies about you and that this is all normal between couples. Romano will be too young to understand that what Spain is doing is really wrong. Besides, he does want you you stay with him too. Romano can't risk losing his mom.

[empressgeekt]

Trolls/Sonic the Hedgehog Crossover - "The Grey and the Black" AU plot.

So, I have been on a sonic kick since I saw the third trailer, and I haven't posted in a while so I thought I would throw y'all a bone. THe basis premise for this AU, is that Branch dies as a teenager and is reincarnated as Terios the Hedgehog, or the original concept art/character for Shadow the hedgehog. I'm assuming folks had basic knowledge of both fandoms for this au summery. Don't like, don't read.

Let's get into the plot!

We start with a seventeen year old Branch. He's working around the river one day, and is being careful due to a risen chance of a flashfloods from a storm upstream. He finds the snackpack nearby swimming, and is not impressed with their reaction when he warns them about the flood risk. They ignore him as always, however this time his paranoia paid off. A Flash Flood does hit the stream. Almost everyone makes it into the trees in time, except for Creek and Poppy who get stuck on a rock. With the waters rising, Branch leaps in to save them. He gets Poppy to safety no problem, however Creek's caught on debris, Branch manages to free him, but is hit by an unexpected wave and dragged away. Post flood, Poppy gets everyone too look for him. Creek finds Branch's body, drowned and pale, and he's never the same. He tries to put it out of his mind, but he can't. He watched a troll die saving him, he heard Branch's last scream just before he was pulled under. Creek and Poppy eventually find their way into the bunker, and while they are not going to go full survivalist, they still read Branch's journals, and Creek carries a dart with Velvet Bee venom in his hair from then on, since there's no one else left to keep the village safe.

However as much as they try to remember, Branch is forgotten by the rest of the village, as are all the dead.

Now let's jump over to what happened to Branch. All he remembers is choking on water. Then something grabs him, but as they yank him away he feels to light. Something whispers words of comfort but he can't pay attention. He starts chocking for a second time, but the water felt warmer, and the limbs he flails feel unknown, there's a sharp pain in his eye, and his memories start to slip from his mind like fine sand. Branch catches one glimpse of the world before it goes dark, it's an elderly human with a fantastic mustache yelling at someone.

Now on the other side of the Portal, Professor Gerald Robotnik, currently lives in a constant state of anxiety. Between his work and Maria's ever fluctuating condition, he has a lot to worry about, however recently he had made strides in PROJECT SHADOW, two hedgehog/Black arm hybrids had been successfully maturing over the passed year, and the were in the home stretch. After the disaster with the biolizard this is probably the first time he can take a breath. Only for him to walk in on some of the interns freaking out near one of the growth tanks. Specimen 2ERS (Two - Extraterrestrial Roaming Specimen) or Terios as Maria named him, pod malfunctioned, making it appear as if the growing project was flatlining, and in the panic of trying to save their hard work some lab techs somehow accidentally damaged the pod and the ceiling, releasing Terios early, along with a broken electrical wire striking the full grown newborn in the left eye, permanently blinding it. The next few hours Gerald spends trying to stabilize Terios, hooking up the hedgehog to external life-support and treating the eye wound, and firing "incompetent scientists".

When Maria is told what happened, she is terrified. In between medical testes and her education she would spend time in the lab talking to the growing hedgehogs, even naming them. Growing too attached as some of the less friendly scientists would grumble. The moment that Terios isn't being worked on, she demanded to see him. Even if the scientists and even Abe, grumble about it, they can't stop her. Not only is her grandfather the head of the project, but she knows how to play up the part of the sweet angel like child who is cursed with a horrible sickness, she would make any one who tried to stop her feel horribly guilty for it. She spends those first couple days talking to Terios and giving a sleeping Shadow updates on his brother.

By some miracle Terios pulls through. He's weak and barely conscious for a few days, but resilient after nearly a week he's able to breath on his own. Maria and the hedgehog get alone swimmingly, and as Gerald observes their interactions he starts to get worried. Yes, Terios is fully capable of walking and is well on his way to speaking fluently, however, he still is a damaged product. His left eye never regained vision suggesting his healing factor isn't what they were hoping it would be, GUN might not like that kind of defect, and order his termination. Gerald is also disappointed by this fact, a cure for Maria couldn't be found in a being with little healing ablitliy, however he can't terminate Terios. The Hedgehog is functional, and healthy beyond his limited sight. And maria had already grown quite attached to Terios, His granddaughter was already suffering Gerald couldn't bare to make it worse. So, in order to protect his creation he labels Terios as dead from the lab incident, in his reports and altered any other file his coworker make in order to make it seem that way.

Terios meanwhile, wakes up in the lab confused. He feels like he should be some where else but he's not sure where. Maria is the first person he meets and he quickly becomes attached. He can't talk himself for the first few days of consciousness and that kind of worries all the other humans. However, they quickly figure out that his vocal chords are fine he's just shy. The first thing he clearly says is, "Where are we?" And to that Maria goes on this long explanation of the ARK, and while Terios is amazed at this place he can't help but feel like he should be somewhere else. Maria thinks she gets it, she wants to be on the planet below with her family, but Terios's problem isn't like that, he feels as if he shouldn't have been born, but he doesn't voice it. Besides, after telling him all about the ARK, Maria starts telling Terios about his brother.

Shadow is released from his pod a few days later, with only Gerald, Maria and Terios present. The moment that Shadows stumbled out of his pod onto the cold floor, Terios feels attached, something in his mind solidifies and he's not sure what. All he knows is that he's supposed to have a brother, be a brother, and from there the twin ultimate lifeforms adventure begins.

The time spent on the ARK is the most wonderful era in the brothers' lives.

Their education starts, both of them proving to be extremely intelligent. However, while Shadow tends to slack on basic assignments (AKA turning in his homework, but still scoring high on tests), Terios is much more conscious about turning things in. He also appears to have much more anxiety, then Shadow, who yes has issues with his creation and the fact they can't cure Maria yet, Terios is just straight up concerned everything will fall down. He stashes food in small places around the ARK, needs to have everything organized, is constantly asking about how equitment works/emergency procedures, and does not trust anyone beyond his family. This last fact does not mix well with the fact they live in the research facility. Often he would have to be sedated before being handled and he never wakes up from the effects peacefully. Even Gerald get frustrated over this issue, since it makes research into a cure for Maria's NIDs take longer and it makes Terios feel guilty. He tries to explain how being handled by creatures who are larger them him and separated from his family, makes him nervous, and the sedation does not help him calm down, but none of the scientists listen. He starts getting twitchy with his hands after a while, channeling the nerves through clenching and unclenching fists, but everyone write it off since they don't want to believe their weapon is on the spectrum (it was the 50s man).

Though, while there were struggles there were still good moments. During their free time, Maria would drag Shadow and Terios for games and mischief around the ARK. They would have hide and seek tournaments, read story books, and seek into the food pantry to steal Gerald's coffee beans, which both young hedgehogs get hooked on. For her 12th birthday, Maria is gifted a record player, and she eagerly plays it for her brothers. Terios is initially spooked by the device but eventually he warms up to it, and enjoys the music. On her good days Maria tries to teach Shadow and Terios how to dance, but only Shadow really needs the lessons, Terios takes to dancing like a fish to water, and quickly grows to love music. He isn't sure what made him start singing, but he finds he enjoys it even more, though he only does it in private at first. Maria and Shadow first catch him in the act, and they are astonished by how good he sounds. Most of the Scientists don't bother with the talent, they aren't trying to make the Ultimate singer. Gerald just finds it ironic, since the Black Arms, being a telepathic race, have no concept of music. Despite the mixed reaction to his gift, Terios continues to sing for his family, especially Maria when her condition acts up and she's bedridden.

However, good things never last for long, and Terios' peaceful beginning to life ends with the GUN raid on the ARK. The day starts out peacefully enough. Maria was feeling strong, and they had no schedule school, so they fired up the record player and were dancing when the alarms went off. Gerald runs in telling them to get to the escape pods, but they are intercepted on the way. The soldiers are under the impression that only Shadow is abord the ARK, so Terios is a rather big surprise. It's enough to get the drop on the soldiers and makes Terios realize that those "agility tests" were really combat training. Gerald gets separated from them, and they are cornered in the escape pod bay. Maria preps the pods when the soldiers run in. One throws a grenade, and while Shadow gets away and pushed Maria, Terios is hit. He didn't see where the explosion landed due to his eye, and gets thrown across the room. Maria grabs him while disoriented, placing Terios in a pod. Terios watches, as Shadow get forced into his own capsule. Maria presses the launch button and is shot as soon as the count down starts.

For ten horrifying seconds Terios is forced to watch as his sister bleeds out, and his brother beats against his own pod to get to her. His head is ringing and he can't move. In his mind there is the echo of a phantom scream, some part of him feels as if he's failed to protect someone he loves for a second time. The pods are launched, and on the decent, Terios is put in hyper-sleep. However his pod is knocked off course, landing him in the middle of a lake, keeping the capsule intact, keeping him in hyper-sleep. Shadow lands and wakes up only to be re-captured by GUN. By some small miracle, despite what the witnesses claim, there is no record of a second ultimate lifeform on board, so they don't search for Terios.

Gerald snaps after the loss of his Granddaughter and creation. He doesn't tell his captures about Terios, there's no point, he's likely dead. He's legacy can only happen through Shadow, and he will make sure the world knows his pain. Shadow is sealed away with false memories, a promise for revenge and a dead brother.

50 years pass. When Shadow is woken up by Eggman, he has a second reason for taking out prison island. He remembers Terios dying but he doesn't want to believe it. He searches the island and ARK for his brother, but Terios is not there. When Rouge confronts him about not being the true PROJECT SHADOW, he lashes out say even if he isn't the ultimate lifeform, his brother certainly was. Since he could make Maria smile even on her worst days. Rouge presses him about his brother since he was never mentioned in any of the files she found. This just serves to make Shadow more angry, how dare the humans try to erase his brother's memory, he unwittingly tells Rouge Terios' name before stalking off.

After the Biolizard, and Shadow Falling, Rouge would look a the remaining inhibitor ring Sonic gave her, and think of what SHaodw said about Terios. The second ultimate life form was believed to be dead or it never existed, however, Rouge wasn't so sure. The professor lied to shadow about Maria's wish, why not add to the pain by telling him his brother was dead too. She had to find him, if only to tell him that Shadow has been laid to rest. She gets Sonic and Tails involved since, she's not quite ready to go to her employers with this information. It takes a few weeks, and hacking into a GUN satellite, but they find Terios. The pod is a bit banged up, but it kept the hedgehog inside safe. They take him back to the Tails' workshop.

Terios wakes up in an unknown place, with unknown people. A world with out his family. Maria is gone. He watched. Gerald is gone. He was old. Shadow...Terios struggles with his brother's "death" the most. The loss is horrifyingly familiar, but he doesn't know from what. The world around him is beautiful. The forest and sun give him so much peace, but he has to discover it alone. Rouge gives him Shadow's ring, and he wears it on a string around his neck. Later, he joins Rouge on her missions, Popping in and out of Sonic and Tails' lives. No offence to them, but Sonic and Tails reminds him of Shadow and Maria in so many unexpected ways. And the loss is still to fresh.

The Events of "Sonic Heroes" roll around. Terios is with rouge when they find Shadow and Omega. He spends the entire adventure trying to get Shadow to remember him. Shadow doesn't, and it gets pretty ridiculous in Terios opinion. Like he can hear Shadow's heartbeat, his brother is not a robot, and the robots have yellow stripes! Shadow doesn't recognize him until Team Dark camps out, and Terios is unable to sleep, so he tries singing to himself. Shadow sits up and finishes the verse, and there's a small look of recollection in that set of red eyes. It gives Terios hope.

Shadow 05, coming into play now, and the first Black comet invades the earth. Terios does not trust Black Doom in the slightest, freaky eye tells you the time of reckoning has come and do this? Yeah no, you don't trust that. However Shadow is desperate for the rest of his memories, and Terios hasn't been able to jog anything after that camp out. So in search of the past, they follow their bio father, and eventually kill him. The trip is actually really enlightening in some ways, Terios finally getting a reason as to why he felt like he could read his brother's mind, they could! Shadow's memories are restored, but with them is the grief he feels for Maria. Grief that he pushes deep down and away. He doesn't want to think about her cause it hurts. Terios had a similar reaction when he woke up, but he had to face those feelings when helping Shadow with his memory, since the only person he knew could get through to Shadow was Maria, and had to think about what she would do. Also, the whole forget about it mindset bothers him for some reason.

Life goes on. Team Dark gets an apartment, they join up with GUN, Rouge is banned from the kitchen, Abe is old now, and then the planet splits apart. However that's nothing they need to worry about, since there is now a second Black Comet was invading. Yay! The mission is simple at first, nuke the space rock! However it gets a lot more complicated when Shadow comes across, Eclipse the Darkling. The twins biological half sibling. Shadow goes to scout the Black Arm base, while Terios stays with the group, however he knows the moment something is wrong, when Shadow is suddenly panicked and stressed on his side of the mental link. The new leader of the blakc arms, Black Death takes control of Shadow's mind, making them work for their side, however they were unaware of Terios involvement in the mission. Black Doom never considered Terios his despite the mental link, due to his appearance and the blindness in his eye, so Black death never learned of Terios' existence. Once Shadow is freed from the control, Terios demands and explanation and Shadow reluctantly tell him about their youngest sibling. Teri does not react well, after making sure Shadow can handle Black Death, Terios goes after Eclipse. He does the math in his head, Eclipse claiming to have been born after Black Doom's death, meaning at most he was couple months old, and well the whole comet was rigged to blow up. He couldn't let a child, his family die like that.

Black Death loses to shadow, and in his final moments, He sends Eclipse away. Terios following and sneaking aboard the escape shuttle as the comet explodes from the nuke. The dark hedgehog finds Eclipse mourning over the limb dead, eye of Black Death, and immediately feels bad. He knows what it's like to wake up in a world all alone. Comforting is not possible, since Eclipse does not want either Terios or Shadow right now. And a fight breaks out aboard the shuttle, eventually the controls are accidentally smashed and Teri notices they were going to crash on Angel island. The landing is rough, since Eclipse won't listen when Teri tries to warn him about the impending crash, still Teri tries to protect his younger sibling. A piece of rubble gets stuck in Terios side, but Eclipse and Four of the dark arm eggs on board walk away with bumps and scratches. With his slow healing and wounds, Eclipse ties up Teri and keeps him prisoner while taking care of the dark arms. Terios is sending mental signals to Shadow as to where to find them. All through out his imprisonment, he's playing two arguments, trying to convince Shadow not to murder Eclipse on sight, since he's kid, and trying to convince Eclipse that world domination is no longer needed nor is possible. All while his far too slowly healing wound is getting infected. By the end of it, he somehow reangles his younger siblings into a truce from his fucking hospital bed, and Eclipse comes to live underneath his older brothers care due to being a minor.

Maybe Maria is revived as a Hedgehog to make this trio a Quartet, but I'm not sure if it would work in this scenario.

Now let's jump back to the other side of the portal. TBT has rolled around for the trolls, with Creek never betraying his tribe since he managed to escape from Gristle's mouth using the venom dart he always carried around since Branch's death. So he's there when Poppy tells John Dory about his baby brother's demise. It's the news of Branch's death that manages to get Brozone to actually talk and heal, since they don't want to die alone too. Barb is the one who asked, while intoxicated, if they had looked for Branch's reincarnation, since her tribes believe in it if two trolls are born with similar sounding singing voices. This sends the brothers (mostly JD and Floyd) down a rabbit hole trying to find whomever had their brother's soul. Poppy and Creek tag along, Poppy for the adventure, and Creek because he feels bad for how he treated the troll who saved him and wants to apologize. Somehow this search leads to an old funk troll who's a little on the crazy side, zapping the group (brozone, Poppy, Viva, and Creek) into a portal.

When they land on the other side, it's kind of a shock, since they are all suddenly hedgehogs, not that they know what kind of creature they were turned into were called that. They are a lot bigger then they were a couple of minutes ago, and their hair has been swapped out for quills. The forest is unfamiliar and it takes a while for them to get their barring's. Unfortunately the Forces War is in it's fifth month, and they are hit by a brigade of shadow clones. John takes the offense real quick, his machete still in tact from the trip, but the clones, even if a fraction of the real thing's power, are still stronger. Thankfully, just as when the chips appear down, when a scaly creature and darker colored creature like them who was blinded in one eye and covered in scaring, leap into the fray.

Shadow was captured by Eggman not long after Sonic, and Teri and Eclipse had been looking for their brother ever since, teaming up with Tails since they both have the same goal. Find their family, and save anyone who hasn't been evacuated yet, per request of Amy Rose. The group of hedgehogs they save are a little weird, though only Teri notices that these guys don't really act like hedgehogs. Terios is at first a little pushy wanting to get them out of the danger zone so he cna continue the search for Shadow. However, John and Floyd aren't having it, claiming they aren't going anywhere until they find their baby brother. Reluctantly Terios allowed them to join, since well, he's looking for a brother too, though he misinterprets their situations as a kid who got separated during initial evac of the situation. The group meets up with Tails, whose stress repairing Omega, the Fox only wants to know if Teri or Eclipse heard Shadow through the hivemind, since he's hoping Eggman will keep Sonic and Shadow together and finding one would mean both.

From there our group bonds. John kind of sympathizes with Terios, being the eldest sibling with no parents around, even if their situation is very different then from Young Brozone. Bruce is ticked off when he meets Tails, this is an 8-12 year old on his own looking for his teenaged brother with no parents around, like who lets this happen to kids (completely forgets that this was Floyd's situation at one point). Clay is just impressed with how intelligent tails is, and they talk math when they can. Floyd doesn't interact, he wants to find Branch's soul. Eclipse is just chaos incarnate when he gets with Poppy and Viva, the three of them are all high energy and trouble prone. Creek is civil, but Eclipse and Teri unnerve him, they aren't that colorful, but he's trying not to let that get to him, it's hard though when Eclipse mentions the Black Arms used to eat people.

On the side I do think that Poppy is feeling some form of attraction to Teri, like he's dark mysterious, but a total softy when it comes to Eclipse, Tails, and the dark arms. She actually gets him to open up a little about his past, and is promptly horrified, but she recognizes his loyalty and love for his family (minus black doom). Terious is also feeling something with Poppy, though he isn't sure what. The idea of a relationship never crossed his mind, he was too busy taking care of his family, and keeping his sister's promise. Eclipse recognizes the mutual attraction right away, though he's very blunt about it, and doesn't understand having a mate beyond the purpose of having kids, so he says a lot of things that nearly get Terious kill by Viva's hand or makes a bunch of people uncomfortable.

Eventually they run out of ground bases to search for Shadow and Sonic, and look in other options, eventually hacking the Death Egg and finding old security footage of the hedgehog in question. The resistance is down for a mission now that they have the coordinates for the space base. Most the trolls group have gotten close to members of the resistance by this point and are down to help. Everyone but Floyd. He's looked through every member of the resistance, and all the refugee but still hasn't found someone that could be his brother's reincarnation. Branch was a sweet happy and ever loving little brother in blue, and no one here fit the bill. He doesn't want to get wrapped up in the mission stuff, he wants to keep looking even if it meant leaving the safety of the resistance base. Floyd stays behind, with Bruce and Creek there to make sure he doesn't run off.

On the mission, John is on the infiltration team that finds and frees Sonic. The moment he sees the Blue hedgehog with a gleam of happiness in his eyes, he mistakes the hedgehog for Branch's reincarnation. Sonic's a little out of it, dirty and exhausted from his imprisonment, but he's really happy about the save. This John guy is really nice too, even if he's a little clumsy and doesn't know how to curl up for a spin-dash properly.

Poppy and Viva are on the team looking for Shadow, with Terious and Eclipse. Shadow's containment cell was more heavily guarded and the Black Hedgehog was one a constant stream of drugs to keep him docile. Eclipse and Teri are clinging to their brother the moment they can. Eclipse is just focusing on trying to get Shadow to wake up, while Terious is taking note of the IV and the odd energy signature that Shadow is giving off. It's not chaos, no it's more like what the clones are made of. What did they do to his brother.

The two rescue teams meet up on the way out. Sonic is happy to see Teri and the others, though worried about Shadow. He remembers hearing the black hedgehog screaming whenever that new jackal Eggman was working with entered his cell. Terious and Eclipse are horrified, when he mentions this. They needed to get out of there. They meet up with the ground team outside after fighting for their escape, Clay and Tails with them. John tells Clay he thinks Sonic is Branch, and Clay can't help but agree. Blue and perky, that's their Bitty B, they just need to hear him sing to know. Tails is clinging to sonic full trip back to the main resistance base.

The infirmary takes both recently freed hedgehogs immediately. Sonic goes willingly knowing how worried Tails was. Shadow had been out the whole trip back, but had started mentally stirring by the time of there arrival. John and Clay tell the others about their theory and they rush to meet sonic. Floyd runs up to this Blue hedgehog with so much hope, and is severally disappointed when Sonic only stares awkwardly as Floyd slings to him and tries to get Sonic to join in a song. It's in this awkward silence that Shadow wakes up. But between the months of drugs and psychological torture done by the phantom Ruby, he's disoriented and doesn't think anything is real, lashing out at the medical staff and causing a scene. It almost turns deadly but Terios rushes in and pulls a trump card to make Shadow calm down. He doesn't sing unless in private but he needs Shadow to stop panicking.

For Brozone its enough. The voice is deeper then they remember, but Terios isn't a baby, Branch grew up. Still it's that falsetto of gold they were looking for. There brother had been infront of them this whole time.

Shadow calms enough to ask for confirmation that this is real, which Terios asures that it is. Eclipse joins the hug, and Shadow passes back out from exhaustion not long after. The moment Terios takes a step back and lets the doctors work, Floyd is running into him hugging hard, and calling him Branch.

The rest of the plot would be the Brothers coming to terms that Branch is dead, and Terios is his own person. Floyd being the hardest to convince, he still wants to take Teri back to the troll world to build the waterslid in the bunker. John and Bruce come to the realization quicker then the others, they see Teri as his own person since they talked the most before the reveal. Clay is somewhere in the middle, he's angry that even after death Branch still doesn't have peace, to which Terios tells him to shut up, yes his life is hard but it's one he chooses and he isn't alone. Creek gets his closure, by apologizing to Teri even if he says it isn't necessary. Viva was just along for the ride. Poppy finds away to keep in touch with Teri, though I'm not sure how long the relationship would last, as they would both be needed in each other's worlds.

----

Well this was dumb! Lol I hope yall enjoyed. Questions are now once more welcome! My gap year is about to start!

[linnoya-writes]

Zutara Childhood-Friends-to-Lovers Alter-Egos Forbidden-Romance AU (part II)

It was Zuko's idea, to write the first letter.

It had arrived to the Southern Water Tribe by a very cold and shivering messenger hawk, folded by wax stamp of a blue theatrical demon mask nobody had recognized. Nobody, except Katara, and she tried to keep her pounding heart from giving herself and her childhood friend away.

In the years that they had been allies, Katara only recalled the Fire Nation sending messenger hawks to the arctic tundra under dire circumstances (an island's epidemic in need of more healers, a village's drought in desperate need for ice)... and so she noticed the brilliance of her friend's gesture easily. How, in spite of their feuding nations, there was no need to let an innocent creature freeze to death by being turned away as soon as it arrived.

It was Sokka who read the content of the letter. "Her name is Caiduri. She likes fish." Their father had been with the tribal council, and so Sokka was left to decipher the significance of this letter and the writer. "We're supposed to keep this enemy bird?" Sokka deduced. But Katara jumped in immediately to calm Caiduri's annoyed ruffling of feathers, and the bird seemed to find a home on the girl's pelted arm. "She's not our enemy! She's sweet. And she should stay with us until the summer solstice." That meant they would have the bird for months, and Sokka shook his head in disbelief.

"Dad's not gonna like this."

"Well, Dad doesn't have a choice, does he?" She smirked at her brother knowingly.

"Yeah. Well don't get too attached to it. Once it goes back, it's not coming back here."

"It's a she, stupid." But Sokka had already left their hut before he could hear that. Katara groaned, but then yelped as the bird started nipping at her ear. And it hit her that she suddenly had something to take care of-- something else, anyway.

After feeding her the last scraps of their salmon dinner, Katara took Caiduri out with a lantern towards the snowy forest that encompassed the tribal village-- a forest that sang of screeching snowy owl-cats and howling distant polar bear-wolves. The girl had grown accustomed to these sounds, they didn't phase her anymore... but the bird perched on her shoulder trembled from all of the new.

"Don't worry-- you're safe here." Katara reassured, grazing the birds' feathers with a finger. "I just want you to see what I've been working on since the summer."

The little lantern light directed Katara towards a centuries-old pine tree, its trunk leaning back as if basking in the blanket of stars. The tree was as thick as the Fire Nation eastern redwoods that Katara had seen as a child... and it was that memory that had granted her the idea: a tree that thick must have a village of roots underneath, so vast, it can bring up soil a good distance away. And so Katara had searched for a cavern... a bungalow... any place where animals had long abandoned and could still shelter soil and warmth for a foreign seed. Her plum seed was precious; she couldn't just plant it half-heartedly. She tested potential spots with local shrub seeds, first, and then, if it succeeded... with cranberry bushes... and finally, in a little damp bungalow a short hike west of the leaning pine, Katara boldly planted Zuko's gift. All she did was give water and a prayer.

She had done this every night, for weeks.

And when Katara introduced Caiduri to her secret bungalow, the seed's stem was beginning to sprout. Tiny leaves were shining against the lantern light like dew drops.

Katara let the hawk scrunch into her warm pelted hood.

She couldn't help but laugh, thinking that Zuko had been the one to beat her at the first message, the first gift.

It was only because her gift was taking a bit longer to make, and she would've sent it through a private courier or a a stowaway shipment towards the islands. She would've found someone to vouch for her, made up some story to get this gift to the palace after so many levels of clearance.

But Katara had to give it to Zuko; the hawk was a brilliant idea.

By summer solstice, Caiduri returned to the Fire Nation palace. A tiny tropical plum neatly wrapped around the bird's leg. The image of a woman's face obscured by a veiled hat was the first thing Zuko recognized, drawn with ink on the wrapping.

Zuko tried to hide his grin while his uncle and his advisors tried to decipher the strange message.

"As it turns out... she likes plums, too."