#they can all stick together live and mourn their lost friends and make sure hero society doesnt fuck up again

[commander-revan]

I just don't understand this ending... In both of Horikoshi's previous serialized series the villains lived and got to reform and atone at the end.

Why was this series, which focused way fucking more on making the villains sympathetic and pointed out the ways they could have been saved if society or their families were different (and how one literally never had a chance in the first place), the series where they die or are locked away forever.

What happened?

[amistytown]

Power Over Me (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Leviathan x GN!MC as Lord of Shadow and Henry; MC is referred to as Henry but remains gender-neutral. I enjoy the TSL lore in Obey Me and wanted to write a bit for it. I initially had an alternate ending in mind, but I decided to save it for another idea I might write at some point. Tried to keep Levi in character while giving him and the story a slightly different feel since it takes place in a fantasy world. Also listened to Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy on repeat while I wrote this so chose to title it accordingly. Hopefully, it turned out all right. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and self-deprecating thoughts. Mostly some angst with fluff. As always, sorry for the typos that I may have missed, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate it!

Lightning illuminates the throne room, the Lord of Shadow watching the rain batter the windows, gaze sullen. A storm rages outside, mirroring the flood of emotion bursting forth to drown him in misery. Though he can only hold himself accountable, allowing his envy to fester and take possession of his heart in a moment of weakness. He regrets the letters he frantically wrote in his jealously, the heated words exchanged between you, and your pain forever engrained into the parchment, the ink smudged by your tears, which now lay in pieces at his feet. He considered to make the journey to you, begging for your forgiveness, but he knows he’s undeserving. Instead, he mourns the loss of your friendship, the loneliness left in its wake burning him from the inside out as he cries into his hands, his tortured sobs lost to the thunder roaring above.

The doors swing open, light spilling in from the hall. He recoils at the intrusion, anger welling and threatening to spill over, his patience worn thin. A growl dies in his throat, eyes widening at the vision before him, so beautiful and precious his entire being aches with longing. Slowly, he takes in the sight of you, engraving every detail into his memory. Your windswept hair and the raindrops trickling down your face, clinging to your lashes and following the curve of your lips as you smile sweetly at him, staggering into his arms.

“Henry,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, daring to embrace you and revel in the feel of your body against his; your skin cool and soft, and your scent rich, intoxicating him. He’s certain he’s not worthy of your compassion, yet he can’t bear to turn you away, selfishly clinging to you and delighting in the fact you lean into him, your arms winding around his waist to pull him closer. My Henry, he thinks, tightening his grip, afraid he’ll lose you again if he’s not careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so so—”

You grow limp, legs buckling under your weight.

Fear engulfs him, heart lurching as he supports you, catching your hand in his. “Henry?” he whimpers, noticing how your chest heaves with each breath, and the way your brows knit in discomfort, a low groan slipping past clenched teeth. “Henry! What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

“I ran into a bit of trouble on the way here,” you manage, laughing pitifully. “I didn’t realize . . .” Your fingers fumble to unclasp your cloak, and he swallows thickly at way lay beneath. Blood soaks your blouse—a sickening shade of red—the fabric sticking to your back.

“You didn’t realize?” he cries, incredulous. “Henry—”

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice wavers, head lolling to the side. He calls to you, shaking you by the shoulders, desperate to keep you beside him. However, your eyes close, grief overtaking him when they don’t reopen.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures, robes billowing around his ankles as he rushes down the corridor, gently cradling you to him. Guilt plagues him, reminding him how pathetic he is, especially for hurting you and putting your life at risk; how could he act so recklessly. You’re the light to his darkness, breathing life into his world, and he can’t accept losing you—his happiness—your love dispelling the shadows that once consumed him. He never knew a truer friend, and he’s positive there’s no one else who could play such an important role—you’re irreplaceable. There’s plenty of time to atone for his sins, tonight he needs to make sure you live to see the morning.

“I’ll take care of you, Henry. I promise.”

Time comes to an agonizing standstill.

The Lord of Shadow remains at your side, hoping and praying you don’t succumb to your wounds. He watches you closely, frequently checking your pulse and finding comfort in the steady beat of your heart while you sleep, looking deceivingly peaceful in his bed. His focus is on you, never straying from his true friend’s wellbeing despite his inner turmoil, which threatens to tear him apart at the seams. You keep him together, and again he’s at your mercy, owing you his life for all you’ve given him—his hero—his Henry. He hurt you, but you came to him and offered him forgiveness, willing to sacrifice yourself to save your friendship. How can you care about him with such ferocity, a brooding reclusive lord who’s unworthy of his title? No matter the days spent apart, you return to him, accepting him into your life without hesitance, and he can’t help welcoming you back with open arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’m terrible. A worthless—”

“You’re not.”

For an excruciating second, he wonders if he imagined the glorious sound of your voice, and an anguished sob escapes him, tears clouding his vision. You stare up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and a lazy smile on your lips. He’s dreaming, he reasons, shaking his head in disbelief. Then your hand is in his, familiar and warm; he shivers at your touch.

Gasping, he pulls away. “Y-you . . .”

“Forgive me,” you say, so understanding—so sweet—your kindness unfathomable. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” he stammers, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, fingers quivering as he entwines them with yours. “I’m sorry.” His tears come faster and harder, shamefully hot on his cheeks. He’s unable to articulate how sorry he is or how his very soul painfully throbs at the thought of hurting you—losing you—wishing he could turn back the clock. “For everything.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you soothe. “I’m sorry, too.” Sitting upright, the blanket bunches at your waist, and he can see where the bandages peek out from beneath your shirt, the skin bruised, making him wince. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’m the reason you’re hurt,” he chokes out, averting his gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault.”

You’re wrong, he wants to say; however, he refrains.

“I don’t blame you,” you continue. “Look at me, please?”

He shouldn’t. Surely, he looks foolish, a mere hostage to his emotions. Nevertheless, he spares you a glance, wondering why you regard him so kindly—lovingly even—causing his heart to flutter.

“It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? His mind tells him differently; it’s a sea of dread and uncertainty that washes over him in waves, dragging him under. The sincerity of your words is difficult to ignore, and, in that instance, he decides to trust you, finally breaking the surface. “Henry,” he murmurs, hugging you to him, arms wrapping around you protectively as if to shield you from the world. His tears wet your hair, body trembling, and you hold him, letting him come undone in your embrace.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, setting him alight. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own.”

“Henry—”

“I know you’re struggling. It’s okay. I’m here.” You rub his back, resting your head on his chest. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“You’re the truest of friends, Henry. I fear I’m not worthy . . .”

“Of course, you are. I’ve never known a truer friend than you, my lord.”

“I can’t help worrying someone will steal you away. It’s selfish of me, I know. Though I feel so inferior in comparison. Sometimes I think you’re better off without me.” When he learned you met with the Lord of Corruption, his insecurities grew, fanning the flames of his envy. Why choose him over his brother? The Lord of Corruption could provide you with more than he can give. The rest of his brothers, too; they could care for you—protect you—unlike him. You’re here with him though, leaving his brother behind at a moment’s notice, and you did come when he called, eager to please. He wants to return the sentiment. “I can’t articulate how important you are to me. I . . . you’re so special, Henry.”

“No. No one compares to you.” Your praise captivates him. “All I ask is for you to trust me. Talk to me so I can help you. I accept you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I love you as you are.”

“Love me?” he breathes.

“Yes, I love you.”

A simple but genuine vow of love. He stills, terrified he’ll faint in your arms as he hides his face, heart racing. The cynical part of him says it’s too good to be true, but he knows better—he knows you. He’s envisioned this moment, and it’s far sweeter than his fantasies, your love a beautiful feeling that sweeps him off his feet.

“Have you slept?”

He sighs, mouth unbearably dry. “No.”

“Come to bed. You should rest.”

“Henry! W-with you?”

“You say that as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” you tease.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Although he complains, the bed dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, reaching for your hand. “Is this, okay?”

“It is.” Shifting onto your side, your hand tightens around his, a flicker of pain twisting your features.

He tenses, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. Better, thanks to you.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, the dark circles beneath them, and the stiffness of your movements, betraying the smile you wear for him.

“Who hurt you?” he asks.

“No one you need to worry about. Not now.”

Unsurprising. You’re his Henry, besting him and his brothers on multiple occasions; anyone who chose to challenge you is a fool. Yet, your blood flowing freely, covering his hands—the ungodly stench—stayed with him. He clearly recalls your lifeless body, and how the color drained from your face, the heaviness of his heart breaking when he believed he lost you twice in one day. You looked so fragile then and do now, trusting him at your most vulnerable. Hatred for the one who dared to harm you runs deep and for himself for not protecting the one he loves.

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, inhaling sharply. “I-I . . .”

“You didn’t. You won’t.” You catch his tears as they fall. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, too.” His declaration is quick and clumsy but true; he’s loved you for so long.

Caging you in his arms, he hovers over you, peering down at you shyly. His body shakes with every beat of his heart, ears ringing, but he admires you, gaze affectionate and a light blush dusting your cheeks. He’s scared. He’s scared of losing you most of all, trying to muster half the courage he knows you possess. “I love you, Henry,” he says softly, clutching your hand, his lifeline. Closing the distance between you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss, the magnificence of it sending a rush of blood to his head. He forgets how to breathe, dizzy on the taste of your love, and collapses next to you, questioning if he died and ascended to the heavens. With you by his side the future is much brighter, and, for once, he looks forward to what it brings.

[tigerseye46]

D..... if were working with 'Pigsy was Baije' then does Wukong know? Were Wukong and Baije a thing too or is that exclusively an 'in the now' thing?

I mean either way that will be FUN to find out

TW: Death, Blood and Injury

Also Season 2 spoilers

Okay so I’ve thought about this a lot-

Thank you for giving me a chance to ramble, anon. This is going to be long

So, I would like to believe Wukong finds out eventually, either through Sandy (who I’d like to think is Sha Wujing), his golden eyes or a build up of hints. Since they’re stuck together on a ship, I think he has more time to figure it out because maybe he’s never really paid attention to MK’s friends until they had to be forced together. Or he did know before that and is just hiding it extremely well.

So for the ‘were Bajie and Wukong a thing’ I believe that even if they weren’t a thing, they at least had feelings each other that they never acted on because I am also a massive Zhuhou shipper.

Either way, it’s Wukong mourning for his lost love. We get a tragedy from two sides if Bajie died (from “To Catch a Leaf, it’s very implied something happened to him), although there are as just as much angles if we got with an alternate universe where Pigsy is just Bajie in disguise which I will elaborate on further.

If Bajie and Wukong were a thing, either married or still in the dating phase, and Bajie died, Wukong knows he has just lost the person he loved the most. Bajie’s death takes place possibly years after Wukong has already sealed DBK and has given up fighting. At this point, demons are still causing havoc and Bajie, who’s maybe matured a little bit, has decided to step up and be the hero for both of them.

Bajie, as shown in the first chapter he appears in, can fight Wukong on equal grounds but usually he does get lost in his cowardice and desire (since desire is what he’s supposed to represent) although when they do need him, he’s there.

Wukong isn’t worried about him fighting because he is strong. One day, there is word about an extremely powerful demon that people are having trouble with so they need Wujing, Bajie and some other warriors to help. Wukong feels something in his gut telling him to not let his husband go but he ignores it, the pig can handle himself. He gives his husband as much kisses as he possibly can with “Do your best, idiot. I love you.” Then he pats Wujing on the shoulder and watches them leave.

He chills on his mountain, suppressing the dread that lies in his stomach and eventually, he sees the top of Wujing’s hair and thinks “Oh, they’re back. I wonder how it went. I can’t wait to shower Bajie with kisses.” He sees Wujing’s face which is a mix of sadness, guilt, grief and anger all wrapped into one. The fish demon gets closer, holding Bajie’s body in his arms, bruises and blood present, the pig isn’t moving, isn’t breathing and Wukong feels sick to his stomach.

He rushes towards them, demanding to know what happened and Wujing explains that during the attack, Bajie blocked a blow meant for Wujing, the fish demon was on the ground when the demon was about to strike him, he was on his knees, breathing heavily and his reactions too slow to fight back. The pig gets knocked to the ground where the enemy demon hits him again and is about to give another blow when some soldiers attack him. It left Wujing enough time to go over to Bajie and try to help with his injuries but the bleeding was too much for him to stop, the pig leaves some parting words and passes away.

When he finishes, Wukong says the demon better be dead or he’ll go kill him himself, Wujing says he killed the demon and Wukong growls out a “good” and goes quiet.

He takes Bajie’s body in his arms, either remaining quiet with silent sobbing mixed in or screaming his lungs out and weeping more than he has ever before. He decides to bury his husband, aware that Bajie will be reincarnated one day, he has no idea when that will be. He leaves a small “Goodbye, my love…” as the pig is buried. And it hits him that he couldn’t protect one of the people that mattered the most to him and he decides to hole himself up on his mountain with the rest of his family occasionally checking up on him, he’s too lost in his grief to care rather they’re there or not while Wujing is in lost in his anger.

Eventually they stop visiting and Wukong believes they passed on just as Bajie did so he sets up a shrine for them.

Wukong holds on to whatever he has of them left, like the courtship bracelets. He makes sure to clean those regularly, holding back sobs as he does so, he gets defensive when anyone asks what they are, no one needs to know what those are except him.

Centuries pass and he finds Xiaotian, the perfect candidate to be successor, he watches the kid carefully, mostly focusing on him, barely taking note of the people around the kid.

So he trains him, hardly leaving his mountain, he doesn’t need to after all. Being around the kid brings him more joy than he’s felt in years but he still misses his family like crazy so he has the kid destroy the mural. It’s a painful reminder of what he has lost.

New Years comes around and we know how that whole thing goes, at the end, when Wukong is near MK’s friends, getting a closer look than he ever has before, maybe he realizes those are his family. He questions, did Tripitaka and Wujing reincarnate as well? An overwhelming feeling pops up in his chest at seeing them after so many years. When he gets a glimpse of Pigsy, he thinks “Oh my gods. That’s him. That’s my husband. He’s here, he’s alive… but he isn’t my husband, not anymore” and Wukong has got to get out of there before it becomes too much so he leaves.

And he suppresses all of it because he has bigger things to worry about.

Then at the last moment, when he finally has what he needs to defeat WBS, he flies just in time to see the kid lose to WBS and he pulls him out of there. Then he gets scolded by the man he once loved, still loves and he knows his husband the pig demon is right.

He tries to convince the others that they shouldn’t go, they’re mortal after all but they refuse and he has to bring them along. Now he and his family’s reincarnations are stuck in close quarters and he wants to get close to them again, he does but he doesn’t deserve it. He let the person he loved die and Pigsy doesn’t think that highly of him anyway so it’s better he just stay away as much as he can. Yet he’s still so hopelessly in love and he tries everyday to not wrap Pigsy in a hug and apologize, the same goes for the rest of his family.

Wujing, I mean Sandy, notices the king’s mood and asks what’s wrong where the king pushes him away, explaining how it’s none of his business. When Sandy tries to push further, Wukong shouts at him how the demon has probably never lost family and Sandy stays silent then explains how he lost a brother. And it hits Wukong, this is Wujing, actually Wujing, not some reincarnation and they hug and sob, maybe the others catch them and they don’t explain.

They’re all each other has and they cling to each other with the others questioning their new found closeness and Pigsy feels a twinge of jealousy but he has no idea why. Wukong tries to connect with Bajie while maintaining his distance because it still hurts way too much.

Now to explain, what happens if they weren’t an item. So, basically the same thing happens with Bajie’s death except they think something happened to Wukong since they couldn’t find him after he sealed DBK. Again demons are still popping up like crazy, taking advantage of the fact that the king is no longer around.

So Bajie steps up, gaining a more responsible attitude and despite, rumors spreading that the king dies, he ignores them as he believes Wukong will return one day. He gets extremely irritated when people say Wukong died or abandoned them. The same thing happens where he bleeds and dies, leaving Wujing, Bái Longma/Ao Lie and possibly Tripitaka, if he hasn’t reincarnated, to mourn (using this angle for a fic I’m working on).

Obviously Wukong thinks they’re dead and again, possibly at New Years, the king finds his family’s reincarnations and questions what happened, feeling a good amount of guilt for leaving them.

Then while they’re all stuck on the ship together or some other thing, Wujing reveals that he is still the same person and admits what happened to Bajie which just grows Wukong’s guilt and he has to stay away from everyone for a few days.

I would imagine he tries to respectfully maintain his distance from Pigsy while also trying to get closer, possibly sticking to him like a puppy. Again, does he really have the right to be near him? Because he left them and it could have been preventable if he just stayed.

The pig has no idea why the king sticks to him sometimes, he finds he doesn’t really mind it for some reason?? Also it’s easy for him to keep an eye on the king and makes sure he takes care of himself. And the king is kinda cute, he’ll admit. Wukong calls Pigsy little nicknames in his head a lot.

Wukong falls deeper in love with Pigsy, noting that no matter what life he takes on, he still loves him. Very much so and he doesn’t know how to tell him about who he once was.

In either sides, should he tell Pigsy this? Does he have a right to see Pigsy? Does he have the right to see any of them? It hurts to watch his family go on without him, but they’re happy, right? He shouldn’t interfere with their lives more than he already has. They don’t deserve that. On both, there is tragedy, longing and mourning and Wukong feeling guilty for so many reasons.

And we have the third take, the universe where Pigsy is Bajie in disguise.

Pigsy mourns Wukong like the king mourns him. Wukong is one of the few people that Pigsy has ever truly loved and vice versa. They miss each other like crazy, believing the other is dead and wishing they could talk to each other once again.

They wish they could have said something to each other, confess their feelings and maybe it would have changed something. Maybe the other would have stayed alive and well. While Pigsy’s working, sometimes it hits him that it’s better that he never said anything, after all, he isn’t Wukong, he’s not a hero, he doesn’t consider himself one. He was a slacker, a coward who did everything to cause problems and does Wukong really need someone like that in his life? Maybe that’s why he left. Pigsy ignores his good qualities from when he went by Zhu Bajie because he doesn’t think he has any good qualities.

The monkey would have rejected him, no doubt about that so it’s better he never admitted his feelings.

Time passes and he takes in Xiaotian, the kid can be good at his job, but annoyingly distracted. The kid is a big fan of the Journey to the west and a part of him feels joy as hearing someone so close to him enjoy the adventures but it’s also another reminder about all his stupid actions. Especially when Tang likes to point out his past mistakes to tease him for always getting them in trouble.

And one day, he sends MK on another delivery because he should really be working instead of listening to those stories. And what’s this, a bad review? Okay, Xiaotian needs to explain this! Where is he?

He’s about to scold him when Xiaotian reveals the staff and no, no, no, no, that can’t be Wukong’s. It just can’t be. Laugh, Pigsy, the kid must have just found a cheap imitation.

Then the kid accidentally breaks the table with it and oh my gods, it’s Wukong’s.

And Pigsy takes them to Sandy. MK believes that Wukong will be there and could the king be there? Yes, it is his home but they haven’t heard a word from him, the pig still believes Wukong is dead. There’s a small ray of hope that the king is alive.

Somehow, Tang and Sandy manage to convince Pigsy to go with the two. He grumbles about it and inside it hurts to go to the home of the man you once loved, still love, knowing that he won’t be there.

Then the fight with Princess Iron Fan happens and Pigsy believes he lost his kid as well.

And it turns out that Xiaotian is fine, thankfully. When Mei asks if MK managed to find Wukong and MK says yes, that cements it, he’s alive. And he never visited them. He tries to not clench his fists in anger and watches as the kid fights DBK.

His kid, the one he thought was dead, is now Wukong’s successor. The king let him believe that Xiaotian was dead, stupid monkey.

That night, he goes on and on to Sandy and Tang about how he hates Wukong, that’s a lie, and how the king should have told him he was okay. He manages to convince them that they shouldn’t see Wukong. If he wanted to visit them, he would have done so.

Life goes on with the pig hearing little things about what the king is doing from Xiaotian, his chest aches. He wants to punch the king in his handsome face and he is so tempted to charge up onto that mountain and do so but he holds off.

And he kinda wonders why the king left. And a thought crosses his mind, maybe it was because of him. Maybe the king didn’t want to be around him any longer and decided to leave. He knows how bad he was in the past so the king probably had enough and decided to go.

Maybe Xiaotian decides to finally introduce Wukong to his favorite people, he’s heard some thing and the kid convinces him to do so. And he meets them and they remind him of his family because they are his family including the person he loved, loves most in the world. Either Wukong knows they’re the originals or believes they’re reincarnations and how they’re so close yet so far.

Wukong yearns for that closeness once again especially with Bajie, the pig who has captured his heart even with their differences and he tries to impress Pigsy a little. Pigsy tries to keep the monkey at arms length, he is not having his heart broken again, that monkey is not getting close to his family.

And yes, I made this insanely long. Thanks to whoever reads this.

[quizzicalcrow]

Can you do some angst Dad might and Izuku?

This was requested an ungodly long time ago but I’m finally delivering, hope you like anon.

Tw: suicide, allusions to abortion 

Toshinori frowned and checked his phone again though knowing it was pointless. Barely a minute had gone by since the last check and he wasn’t expecting a phone call or message from the boy. Despite now having trained Midoriya for the last three months, he hadn’t gotten around to exchanging phone numbers with his chosen successor - a mistake, he realized now.  It hadn’t seemed necessary before, he gave the boy a detailed training schedule so he always knew when to expect Midoriya while he himself popped in and out when he could. If the boy had a question it had always been something that could wait until the next time they met up. 

Toshinori bit his lip and scanned the beach again, hoping to see the boy’s figure running towards him in the distance. But he was alone on the sand except for the seagulls and piles of trash. Piles, he was pleased to see, that had been steadily decreasing over the last few months. Midoirya was making good progress and even managing to stay slightly ahead of Toshinori’s tight schedule. He knew he had made the right choice after seeing Midoriya’s selfless act of bravery and the boy had only proven him more right every day with his dedication and hard work. Midoriya had thrown himself into the harsh training and had stuck to it, never missing a day or even being late - until today. 

Toshinori checked his phone yet again and sighed, it was now over thirty minutes past Midoriya’s scheduled start time but still no sign of the boy. Maybe he was sick, or had something after school today? There was no way to know. He didn’t even know where Midoriya lived. Tsukauchi could probably look up Midoriya’s address if Toshinori really needed it, but the hero was reluctant to use his friend’s connections like that unless absolutely necessary. He at least knew the middle school Midoriya attended since there were only three in the city of Mustafu and each had a unique uniform. Should he try stopping by there? Was that too forward or interruptive? If his successor really was just held up at school, would he be upset at Toshinori checking in on him? No doubt he’d probably faint at having All Might show up at his school. His lips twitched up into a small smile at the thought. 

This would have been so much easier if I had just given him my number weeks ago. Berating himself, he hauled himself up from where he had been sitting on an old, rusted dishwasher. Despite Midoriya knowing two of his greatest secrets, his injury and One for All, and soon to be inheriting the Quirk itself - Toshinori had tried to keep some measure of distance from the boy. It would be better, he had initially thought, to not get too close. He had managed to lose or push away pretty much everyone else close to him and had decided long ago that it was better this way, safer. After all, Toshinori himself only had at best two years left before Nighteye’s predicted future, it would be best for all involved if he didn’t leave behind anyone to mourn him. He thought of his own grief after Nana’s death, still a dull pain now even 30 years later, and didn’t wish that for his own successor. 

And yet… Toshinori had planned to just get Midoriya started with his training regime, drop by enough to make sure the kid stuck with it and didn’t crush himself under a garbage pile, and then just check in when needed. And still he found himself making excuses to stop by on days he didn’t plan to, to stay longer when he should be at his agency. On days he couldn’t make it to the beach, Toshinori found himself missing the excited ramblings and mutterings. When he was stuck in meetings at his agency or out helping others, he found his thoughts turning to his young successor - wondering how his day was going.  Despite himself, he knew he was growing attached to the boy. Some warm, unnamed feeling bubbled in Toshinori every time he saw Midoriya’s bright smile on seeing him - even in his shriveled,skeletal form. That same feeling grew cold and hard at the thought something could have happened to him. 

I’ll take a walk. He decided. I still have a little bit of my time limit left so I can count it as a patrol, and maybe I’ll run into Young Midoriya along the way. He took off in the direction of the boy’s school, following the route he had seen Midoriya follow on his way to the beach. He’d at least take a walk around, make sure everything was okay before circling back to the beach one last time and calling it a day. 

The streets and sidewalks were busy in the early evening as people left work and ran errands. Toshinori walked along, hunching over and staying off to the side to avoid attention. At one point he saw a small group of students walk by, the boys in uniforms identical to Midoriya’s but there was no sign of the boy’s unkempt green green hair among them. He resisted the urge to go up and ask them, no doubt they’d just be alarmed at a skeletal old man like himself bothering them. 

Still, he couldn’t help watching the students past, laughing together about something. Midoriya never mentioned any friends, never had any issues sticking to the harsh schedule Toshinori had devised for him that left him with no free time for socializing or fun. Despite his clever mind and ambitions, the boy didn’t seem to be in any after school clubs or activities either. While Toshinori had grown up Quirkless as well, it hadn’t been as rare back then - and not as stigmatized as it was now. Did the boy have anyone close to him besides his mother? Was there anyone else Toshinori could try asking where the boy could be? 

There was a crowd ahead at the end of a bridge, clumps of people stood either talking quietly to each other or craning their necks to get a look at whatever had drawn them all together. Toshinori tensed and prepared to go into his muscular form as he approached in case All Might was needed. He paused at the edge of the crowd and tried to see what had caught everyone’s attention to no avail. Even with his height he couldn’t make out what was going on ahead. 

“Did something happen?” He asked two young women nearby at the edge of the crowd. 

One, a lady with teal hair and matching eyes turned and looked at him disdainfully, no doubt wondering who this ugly skeleton was. “There was a suicide jumper, police have the bridge blocked off as they fish the body out from the river.”

Toshinori’s heart twinged at that, feeling sorry for the person who felt they had no other choice left in their lives except to end it. 

“They’ve had this bridge blocked for the last 15 minutes and the next closest one to cross the river is, like, a mile away!” Her friend whined, shaking her head topped with a small set of antlers. “Quirkless idiot had to do it during rush hour of course.”

Ice ran through Toshinori’s veins. “Q-Quirkless?” He choked out, trying to keep his voice even. 

A man nearby spoke up. “Yeah, I heard it was some Quirkless kid.”

“Poor kid, probably realized he didn’t have much of a future ahead of him and offed himself.” Someone else muttered. “Probably a relief for the family. My cousin has a Quirkless kid,” He shook his head regretfully. “Wish that was something they could test for before birth, would make things a lot easier.”

Toshinori looked sharply at the man who spoke and was surprised to see others nodding in agreement. Around him, other onlookers were saying similar things, more upset about the minor delay in their lives than the life that had just been extinguished. Had Quirkless discrimination really gotten so bad? He staggered away, sickened by the blaise way those people spoke of a child feeling so lost that the only way out they could find was to end it all. 

Quirkless. Child. Toshinori’s heart clenched. No, it couldn’t be. 

How many Quirkless students could there be in Mustafu? The few times young Midoriya spoke of school, it seemed he was the only Quirkless one among his classmates. While the Quirkless rate was 20%, he knew it was significantly less than that in Midoriya’s generation. But no, it couldn’t be possible. It had to be someone else. Please let it be someone else. It was wrong to plead for such a thing but for the first time in his life Toshinori felt selfish, desperately wishing for once for tragedy to befall someone else. 

A memory came to him, from that rooftop exchange where Toshinori had initially dismissed Midoriya’s dreams of being a hero. The boy had looked so lost and broken but the hero had been too wrapped up in his own problems to care at the time. Had he missed something since? Was there a sign he overlooked? He thought of those broken sobs of relief from the boy when he had told Midoriya he could be a hero. They were like a boy finding something to live for.

He wouldn’t, would he? Toshinori collapsed on a nearby bench, doubled over and clutched his hair tightly in his hands. The boy was timid and uncertain at times, but also so full of hope and determination. He could still picture that bright smile on Midoriya’s face just yesterday as they said their goodbyes after training. But you should know better than anyone that a smile can hide so much. He shuddered. 

Midoriya had come so far, and had worked so hard. Did Toshinori miss something, had he been too hard on the boy? Maybe his trainee had decided the task was too impossible and he wouldn’t be able to complete the cleanup in time for the entrance exams. Midoriya practically worshipped All Might, perhaps he was too afraid of letting his hero down.  What remained of his digestive system twisted. It’s my fault, I dangled hope at what seemed just out of reach for the poor boy. His hands dug in deeper in his scalp to the point of pain as the first tears began to fall. It’s all my fault. It was getting hard to breath and yet Toshinori hefted himself up to his feet. The ground seemed tilted beneath his unsteady legs. I have to find out, have to know for certain. 

“All Mi- um, sir?” The voice was hesitant and oh so familiar. Toshinori’s head turned sharply and there was Midoriya a little ways down the sidewalk, looking confused and worried but alive. 

In a flash Toshinori covered the distance and had Midoriya wrapped in a tight hug. The boy went rigid for a second, no doubt surprised. But Toshinori held on, clutching the boy’s shirt with one hand and burying the other in that soft green hair. He needed this. needed to reassure himself that this was real and his boy was actually here. After a moment Midoriya leaned into the embrace. 

“Um, sir? Are you okay?” He asked and Toshinori’s heart squeezed at the sound of concern in his voice. Reluctantly he broke away from the hug so he could look his successor in the eyes. 

“I-I got worried, when you didn’t show up at the beach.” He murmured, still keeping one hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

Midoriya bowed slightly. “I’m so sorry! I got held back by a teacher about a group project thing, and I normally take this bridge across but well you can see it’s closed down so I had to go a ways out for the next one.” The boy looked over to the crowd of people. “Did something happen? I hope I didn’t interrupt you if you were about to do some hero work All-”

“It’s fine.” Toshinori said quickly, both to stop the boy from saying his hero name out loud in public and prevent any more questions. This wasn’t something Midoriya needed to know about. “There’s nothing more I can do here.” He couldn’t keep the regret from his voice. His successor looked at him quizzically but thankfully didn’t ask anything further. 

Toshinori stood up fully, though stayed close by Midoriya’s side. He looked back the way he had come, towards the beach. “How about we stop by a food stand and get something to eat before we start your training for the day?”

“But what about my schedule?! I’m already behind for the day!”

Toshinori gave a small smile. “We still have time my boy, there’s still time.” Time for me to correct a few things.

“Midoriya, I just want to let you know that you can clean up the beach in time. And if something happens and for whatever reason you don’t, I promise you will still receive One for All. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get into UA, or another hero school if that doesn’t work out. You have a bright future ahead of you boy, and I will do everything I can to make sure you accomplish your dreams.”

Predictably, the boy’s bright green eyes soon filled with tears and Toshinori just silently passed over a clean handkerchief. 

“Th-thank you All Might. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“It’s no problem my boy, I should have been telling you this all much sooner. And something else,” He reached into his baggy pants to pull out his phone. “I never did give you my phone number, did I?”

--

Okay so this ended up not being as angsty as probably requested but I am incapable of not writing a fluffy ending. 

[readerinsertfanfiction]

hii I was wondering, if it’s not too much, could you write a little something that’s like childhood best friends to lovers with Naruto? I’m such a sucker for those. Being friends with him since the beginning even though everyone hated him, & just him being confused on why you’re friends with him and it leads to a confession?🥺. Thank youuu🧡🖤

Ooh, it has been a loooong while since I wrote anything for Naruto, I feel. Let’s see what I can cook up for ya! 

Fandom: Naruto

Character: Naruto Uzumaki 

The kyuubi attack had left many orphans, both young and old, including you. Within one night you found yourself all alone in this world before you had even a consciousness in which you could realise the loss you had faced and properly mourn it. A loss you hadn’t even realised you had, nor any understanding of what had happened for you to lose everything that you were supposed to be born and grow with. And with the village in ruins the adults were too preoccupied to cumber over yet another orphan. You, along with many others, were left to your own devices and that was a bitterness you could understand.

“These adults are stupid,” you had exclaimed one day after that the hokage had visited you once more. Barely of any age you had to fight and you had to grow faster than any child in the village who did keep their parents. “Thinking they can pick on us just because we have no adults to spit on them,” you continued your complaints as you turned towards a certain blond, a young boy who was just like you, an orphan.

“Is that why you spat on him?” the boy had questioned, eyes wide and a little dirty. It was just another day for him, where he was cursed and glared at, pushed and ignored for whatever reason other than that he had no parents.

“That was nothing compared to what I was about to do! If only I wasn’t held back,” you exclaimed with a scoff before turning to the boy.

“Those adults should feel bad for bullying us kids. But we gotta stick together as well. After all, there is no one else who will stick up for us.”

The statement rang true as you offered your hand to the other. A peer, one of the many, but for some reason that you couldn’t comprehend, even more rejected than you and your lot were.

“What’s the name?” you question the boy and once more stark blue eyes and whiskers on the face looked up at you, a suspicious glare on his face first before he mumbled:

“Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki.”

And to this you flashed a grin, grabbing hold of his hand as you shook it wildly, just as you had seen people greet each other. How you had seen friends bump into each other.

“Well, Naruto, let’s be friends!”

The exclamation rang true and it did so for years, with the two of you doing everything together. Mischief, pranks, growing up in general. Even attending the academy was done together, but where Naruto was held back by some unseen force you had managed to move on, soon making yourself a known name, a talent to behold, a figure to look up to.

It left Naruto with a bitter distaste, for the two of you always had been together, always had been equals and now you suddenly were not. But he never let it show, encouraging you to pursue the path the both of you had chosen.

“I will wait for you to catch up!” you had promised and Naruto only flashed a grin back;

“Don’t wait too long, or I might actually pass you by!” he had said, sparkling that bright and optimistic aura of his, never beaten down by a failure it seemed. How you admired his determination and strength for that, for you knew that you weren’t half as strong if it wasn’t for his stubbornness at your side.

“Still a genin?” you smirk as you welcomed your old friend back into the village. The years had passed and the two of you had grown into teens, fine teens that were allowed to be proud of their accomplishments.

“Just you watch, I will catch up soon and be a chunin like you!” the male exclaimed, bright and cheery, always encouraging and never with a cloud on his mind. Confident as ever, despite all the setbacks he had faced, despite the horrible truths he had to learn about himself and the village. You as well were aware of them by now.

You laughed, hands on your hips as you let your head fall back into your neck. A precious friend he was indeed. The same old Naruto, with or without that monster within him that had taken away so much, but given you even more.

“I’m a jounin by now,” you revealed, expecting Naruto’s eyes to grow wide as sausages as his lips would fall agape like a fish. You were waiting for his surprise, just as you were expecting him to congratulate you with that same old cheer.

There was silence instead, and when you peeled open an eye you found that your best friend was looking down at the ground, his fist balling up before he finally lifted his face with a forced grin.

“I really can’t beat ya, eh?” he sighed instead and you instantly knew there was something amiss.

“Naruto…”

“Haha, what else could I have expected from you, my role model?” the male continued and you felt a stab in your chest, wondering why he was referring to you as an example instead of a friend, for were you not?

“I will have to work extra hard to live up to your standards, or else I fear you won’t be hanging out with me anymore,” he continued to exclaim and yet again you felt a stab to your chest, wondering why Naruto spoke so distantly.

“Because we’re friends?” you tried, brows furrowing to which Naruto scratched his face, not really sure what you meant it seemed before he sighed.

“Hey, now that you’re a jounin you get access to all these super secret files, right? Maybe you can look into Sasuke’s file for me?”

You felt your heart break at the mention of that male’s name. The one that had so quickly surpassed you as a friend. The one that Naruto had thrown himself into entirely and devoted so much of his time to. The one that seemed to have pushed you out of his life so completely.

“If I were in Sasuke’s place, would you have been as desperate?” you suddenly find yourself questioning the blond who freezes at your tone. This time his eyes did grow wide and his mouth fell open agape, like you had hoped it would do when you would reveal your new rank to him.

“There is no need to save you from evil. How could you ever be as dumb as that Sasuke?” Naruto exclaims instead, earning a grit from your teeth as you clench your fists. You were being unfair, you knew that, but it hurt all the same.

“Perhaps I should, because all you ever talk about is Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke. What about us? Aren’t we friends? I was your friend before he was,” you spit out the vitriol that is building up within your lungs, but you regret the words immediately as you see Naruto’s expression fall, hurt in the same way you were.

“Whatever, I had hoped you would value me more,” you ended the conversation and left.

That this was the way you guys parted left a bad taste. Nonetheless, the both of you were of the stubborn kind and neither wanted to approach the other to speak of the hurts within their hearts. You missed him, but you didn’t dare to admit your fault, didn’t want to face your shame.

When the Akatsuki attacked the village you once more made another realisation. One that you should have realised so much sooner, but that your anger and your bitterness had prevented you from realising. When your friend, the bestest you had, was thrown up into the air by the crowd, hailed a hero despite his low rank and his former image, finally earning his place in the village. It was then that you realised that, as Naruto shared his magic and his warmth with the people around him, that you had lost him.

“Hey,” you greeted him one late night. You had gone home early that day, on purpose, so that you could wait at the window for your friend to appear. The same window that you guys shared, for neither of you had ever moved despite life looking up.

“Hey,” came the greeting back from a boy that had grown into a fine male, a hero like he had always imagined himself to be. Naruto had been late to get back that night, what with the village now occupying him.

“Congratulations,” you spoke, and to this Naruto seemed confused, not really understanding what he was being congratulated for. “Congratulations for surpassing me,” you clarified and to this Naruto’s eyes drooped a little, an understanding settling in.

“Listen I--”

You cut him off, hand rising as you shrug your shoulders, trying to find your words.

“I shouldn’t have made you choose between Sasuke and me. I know we both hold a different meaning in your life,” you start, eyes downcast as you remember the words ‘role model’ and ‘example’. When you had become such you weren’t sure, but it still bit.

“I never thought of myself as better than you, or someone you needed to surpass,” you smile, knowing that it took you long enough to realise what your feelings were and that it was better to let it out now, now that your friendship seemed to have grown to a natural end. “You were my best friend, still are,” you trail off as you gather your courage to continue.

“And also the person I like the best in this rotten world.”

You knew that after his ascension to legendary heroes that Naruto had received the attention of many. Even more had fallen for him, as there was a daily and steady string of confessors each day that wished to share and convey their feelings to him. You just hoped that none of them were as dear as you had once been, that you still held an edge because of your longstanding friendship.

The silence that followed after was even more suffocating than the silence you had shared before, clear blue eyes focussed upon you, confused and conflicted, and could you blame him for that?

“I,” the male started, letting the words sink in. How familiar you were to that expression of his when Naruto was truly and really trying to progress something.

“I think you are also the best in this world!” he exclaimed loudly and you scoff out a laugh, nearly ramming your head into the side of your window as you try not to launch yourself into a drum against the wall.

Somewhere you had expected this answer to come from him. Dear as Naruto was, he simply wasn’t the brightest, but definitely the dearest. You were fine with giving him the time and room needed to realise what you really meant. There was time after all, you weren’t planning on leaving him alone after all. 

[katsukikitten]

A/N DAY TWO!!! Please enjoy the dramatics requested by @alwayslost123

"I'm...I have..." Words are lost to you as you attempt to break the terrible news to your best friend. Scarlet eyes rest on you patiently while rage lies just beneath the surface. Ready to tear apart whomever is making your vision blur.

Your hear aches as realization washes over you, that you'll never be able to call him your own. You damn yourself for being too fucking scared to ever admit to him that you liked him.

Hell at this point loved him. He helped you all through UA and even now he helps you with your training although you had given up hero work.

Your mind tortures you with flashes of the two of you laughing, of him pinning you to the ground something different flashing in his eyes as he leans closer but suddenly changes his mind.

Maybe you were never meant to call him yours.

Tears fall from your cheeks in fat droplets as you try but fail to wipe them away.

"I...I'm sorry Bakugou. I..." Sturdy arms wrap around tightly as you sob into his chest. Breathing in that intoxicating caramel smell that normally soothes you but today it is bitter sweet.

Today could be the last time that you smell it. You push him away, swallowing down the lump in your throat and furiously wiping at your tears. You force your voice to come out even as you steel yourself for his reaction.

"I'm getting married to Todoroki in a few months." You watch him turn rigid as he let's the information sink in. He grits his teeth until it hurts as he stares at you. When he doesn't speak you go on, "It's been arranged."

"But you don't even love him!" He explodes, fingers popping even as they grip against the concrete of the roof top to the brownstone townhouse you bought.

"I...." You swallow again, "We are compatible for making strong grade quirks."

You let your hand catch aflame as crimson eyes watch blue and red fire lick at your fingers. Flame that has guided him through dark times, flame that had fed his fuel to want something more.

Something he will not allow himself to have.

He grits his teeth again, pearly whites threatening to break before he sucks his teeth.

"So you're going to do nothing?" Silence stretches between the two of you as the stars wink overhead, the moon yawning in the black sky.

"It will make Father happy." Bakugou sucks his teeth to your response before glares at you.

"Then don't come crying to me." He stands, jumping from the third story.

"Bakugou! Wait!" Your vision blurs once more as you watch his strong back walk into the night, his ash blonde head never looking back.

Days of silence pass between the two of you causing severe chest pains on your side. You half wonder if he ever really cared for you or if what you saw in his eyes was your own desperate attempt to feel something.

To feel loved.

Placing your phone screen down you sigh deeply. Watching your microwaved meal for one spin endlessly before your phone chimes. Excitement grips your heart as you reach for your phone. Praying to Kamisama for it to be a message from Katsuki. Instead your heart shatters in your chest when you read a message from your father.

*"You're moving in with Todoroki tomorrow. A crew will be by to pack your stuff up and transport it. Your house will be on the market shortly."*

You scream sending your phone through the drywall of your bedroom as it soars through another wall before cracking into glittering shards agaisnt the exposed brick in the living room.

Bluish red flame engulfs you and your bed, eating away at everything around you as nothing bring you joy anymore.

Your white bed spread quickly becomes blackened as it is swallowed whole and spit out in ash, flames moving into its next food source licking up the walls. Bubbling paint, distorting photos of your graduating class. Of a candid shot of you and Bakugou arm and arm laughing after training.

Before long the whole building is enveloped in the hot kiss of your quirk, as the bed frame finally buckles from your weight and succumbs to ash.

Even your clothes specially designed around your dangerous quirk begin to catch from the heat alone but still you do not move. Like an ember fueling the fire you sit still mourning over the fact that you cannot burn by your own flame.

Ice soars in large waves into your home or what's left of it as two toned eyes search endlessly. Sending more ice in attempt to cool the flame only to be melted and evaporated. More ice is plunged towards the fire until it is contained, flame frozen in time as an iceberg decorates where your couch once was. Frantic eyes find you shortly before emotion twists his handsome face.

It looks as if his heart is breaking in two. Funny you didn't think his heart was anything but frozen solid.

Still he approaches, sitting among the ash across from you as he brushes away some of your hair.

"I know this is hard....." He sighs out, words failing him as they always do, "But I will never force myself upon you. I will always be faithful to you and should you wish we could never have children. But please...."

He swallows down some more smoke before sending ice to surround you two. Beads of sweat collect on half of his body as the ice drips pure water onto your soot covered and deeply charred hardwoods.

"Lets get through this together." He offers you his hand then and in that moment as you watch his hair dampen sticking to his forehead you wonder.

Would it be so hard to love him?

Todoroki has always been kind to you, helpful and even now knows the right thing to say.

*"So you're going to do nothing?"*

Harsh words echo in your head again encouraging you to reach for what is now your future.

But what Bakugou doesn't understand is that there is no defying your father.

Days turn into weeks and living with Todoroki isn't so unpleasant. He cooks you meals, holds the door open for you. He helps you with your studies and even draws the bath for you first. He picked out a stunning ring that fits your personality of hellish fire. A diamond that blinded you when he opened the block box asking sheepishly if you would marry him.

As if you had a choice.

But he did try to make you feel as if it was.

Things could still go right between you too considering the wedding was now only two days away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have children with him, he was attentive to your needs. He would surely be even more so for his offspring right?

His hero work would have him gone often but you did prefer your alone time. Like tonight you're curled up on the couch reading as the late morning yawns into early afternoon.

A harsh knock comes at your door as you sigh. Damning your father for telling the wedding coordinator where you two lived. She had been bothering you nonstop about nonsensical items, like the color of your silverware as if you cared that fucking much about this.

If you had it your way you would have just eloped!

Actually if you had it your way there would be no wedding at all. But you can never have it your way as long as that man lives.

"Priscilla please I don't care what color it is just pi..." You shout as you yank open the thick wooden door, you quickly notice a man dressed in black standing on your stoop "Bakugou?!"

"Run away with me." He says grabbing onto your wrist. Ready to yank you out of that house with only the clothes on your back. If you came with him he'd buy you whatever the fuck you wanted, "I've got a job lined up in America. The plane leaves tonight."

"Katsuki...The wedding is two days away! My father wants..." You start but he turns on you, vein popping in his head as his age old temper begins to show, fingers gripping onto your biceps tightly.

"I don't give a fuck what your father wants or what Todoroki wants!" He shouts, "What do you want?!"

When you don't answer his voice softens with his grip, palms sliding down to your elbows.

"What do *you* want?" He asks exasperated, your vision swims as it all sinks in.

Was he fucking serious? Running away with him after he hadn't spoken a word to you in almost three months.

After he stomped on your already broken heart, now he wanted to do something? Wanted to try to fix it?

Tears well in your eyes as you look between two burning scarlet orbs.

"Katsuki...I can't do this." You rip from his grip and slink back into your new house slamming the door on your happiness forever.

💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💍💎💎💎💎💎💍💍💍💍

Delicate hands place a veil into your hair, turning you into something you're not entirely ready for.

"You're a gorgeous bride." Your mother sighs as she places her hands onto your donned in white shoulders. You blink furiously to keep your eyes from over flowing.

"Your Father and I had an arranged marriage. Look how we turned out." She smiles at your reflection as you fight to keep from full on sobbing.

Yes look how the two of you turned out, hardly speaking to one another even as they raised you.

Despite all of that there was hope for you and Todoroki, eventually you could have been happy until an angry ash blonde showed up and for what?

Priscilla burts through the doors to the little bride suite.

"Show time!!!" She sings ushering yourself and your mother through the door.

Your palms become clammy as your heart accelerates, spying Todoroki through your veil. You walk to the beat of the music as you march down the aisle, past hundreds of people. Cameras flash capturing your long train and tight boddess. Somehow you make it to the altar only to realize that Shota looks more handsome up close, blushing slightly as you do. Stunned into silence by your beauty alone.

"We are gathered here today...." The officiant starts and you loose track as you stare into heterochromatic eyes.

"If anyone objects speak now or forever hold your piece." Silence falls over the room as the officiant waits.

As if anyone would ever dare to get in the way of your Father's plans.

Suddenly a boom rings out over head, screaming erupts as something fall from the ceiling.

Your heart stops in your chest as you watch the dust clear, leaving a silhouette of a popping hot man.

He points to the officiant, explosions the only sound echoing in the marbled hall.

"NO. I OBJECT WHATEVER THE FUCK I HAVE TO SAY. HE DOESN'T LOVE HER!" His explosions stop before he points to himself, " I DO! AND SHE DOESN'T LOVE HIM!!"

A collective gasp falls over the guests as your cheeks burn, silently thankful that he was here.

That he came back.

His breath comes out in ragged and wrath filled as he shouts.

"SHE LOVES ME!"

[minnarr]

four funerals and a proposal

Scraping in just a hair late with a submission for Day 1 of @nabooreview​ (Found Family).

Word Count: 3,340

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Character death (mostly canonical character deaths, and all aftermath rather than on-screen, but grief features heavily), interfamily conflict

Relationships: Gregar Typho & Saché,  Saché/Yané, Gregar Typho & Saché & Yané (is how I would tag it on AO3, but there’s also a grab bag of feelings with his extended family, especially Mariek, and with Padmé).   

Summary: When Gregar Typho met Saché, it didn’t feel like a pivotal moment in his life. She was a young hero of the invasion; he was just an administrative aide. But in life’s upheavals, and their shared association with Padmé, she became an unexpected constant. Or, as it says on the tin, follow Gregar’s life through four funerals and a proposal.

Funeral I: The Queen’s Memorial, Gallo Mountain University One year after the Battle of Naboo

Gregar paused in the doorway to the administration office, shifting the box in his arms. There was a slight figure standing at reception; maybe someone’s kid? “Are you lost?” he asked.

She turned, and Gregar’s breath caught in his throat. The robe she wore had short sleeves, and when she faced him, it revealed twisting lines of scars crawling down her arms. Her age, her scars, and the look of her together immediately identified her, although the palace had kept any holos of her under wraps. “You’re Saché Adova,” he blurted.

An impish smile warmed her face. “And you have the advantage of me, Mr…?” she said.

“Oh.” Gregar set down the box on the desk and held out a hand. “Typho. It’s an honor, my lady. When they said they’d send a liaison from the queen’s party, I didn’t expect you.”

“I’m just a page,” Saché said. “Can you direct me to the events coordinator?”

“She’s running late back from her errand, I’m afraid,” Gregar said. 

“Oh.” Her eyes strayed towards the box, then she tilted her head. “Can I help? Everyone seems to be very busy.”

Gregar laughed. “Not with this. I was just bringing them back to stash in the office; we definitely can’t use these candles in the ceremony.” He slid open the lid and gestured for Saché to look.

She craned her head to peer inside, then laughed. “Yellow? No, I can see why you wouldn’t want wedding candles.”

“Everything always goes wrong the day of,” he said wryly. He closed the box, then bent to tuck it under the reception desk. He considered a moment, then said, “You know, Mariek Panaka is my aunt. She told me what you did—how brave you were.”

When he straightened, she reached out to touch the medal pinned to his jacket. “We all had to be very brave,” she said. She met his eyes, and for a moment, that understanding that everyone who had been on Naboo during the invasion shared passed between them. No one had been unaffected. They were all still finding their way back to normalcy.

When the coordinator returned and he went back to work, he expected that to be an end to it. He’d met a hero of the battle for Naboo’s freedom; she had met an office aide. The memorial was a touching ceremony in the end, and Gregar drifted off on his own afterwards to pay his respects to fallen friends. Only a year gone, and he still ached to think of them.

Saché surprised him at Stannos’ grave marker. “I’m sorry to intrude,” she said.

Gregar turned, his hands still tucked into his pockets, and blinked at her for a moment. “No,” he said. “No, it’s all right. Do you need something?”

She pointed at the path, where a cluster of girls in grey robes that matched her own stood. “We were passing, and I wanted to say goodbye. It was nice meeting you, Typho.”

A sliver of warmth lodged in with the heartache. “Thank you,” he said. “I was glad to meet you as well.” There was movement on the path, and the queen appeared in a voluminous dark grey gown, flanked by guards. “I think that’s your cue. Take care.”

Funeral II: Versé Two weeks after the Battle of Geonosis

Gregar had organized the transport of the bodies home, delivered the news to the families, watched Mariek’s sister Heli’s heart break at losing her only child. It was strange and uncomfortable to be there in his capacity as Versé’s superior, not as family. Padmé gave them all leave, but it wasn’t a break: it was a grueling marathon of memorials.

He didn’t know how Padmé handled them with such grace. She went to each one, spoke to the family members, told stories crafted to show the dead in their best lights, her honest fondness and grief showing through. In lieu of her Senate guard, she had protectors provided by Queen Jamillia, but Typho recognized at least one of her handmaidens from her time as queen standing by her at all times.

It left a cold fist of fear in his gut not to know where Padmé went at the end of the night. He let it lie; he didn’t have the energy to open up that conversation. He suspected she thought she was doing him a favor. She was always so careful about giving her people space in their personal lives.

Grief shut some people down; for others, it brought everything boiling to the surface. Heli boiled over the night of Versé’s memorial.

Her grave marker read VERSAAT LA’PARUN. Gregar hadn’t planned to say anything about it. Mariek at least waited until they were in private to ask, “Versaat?”

Heli turned so fast Gregar’s neck ached in sympathy. “It’s the name we gave her,” she hissed. 

Mariek was silent a moment. “If Mother buried you with anything other than the name you chose, I would also question why she chose to do that,” she said at last.

“It’s not the same thing at all,” Heli said. “This family has given enough to that woman. You and Quarsh spent years focused on looking after her, and Gregar’s just as bad. I’m not giving her my daughter’s memory on top of her life.”

Mariek reached for her hand, but Heli jerked away, not looking at either of them. “Who’s your family, then, Mari? Us, or Amidala?”

“That isn’t a fair thing to ask and you know it,” Mariek said gently. “I love you. I loved Versé, too. Give her the credit she deserves for that big brain of hers. She knew what the stakes were, and she chose what to do with her life.”

“How can either of you not be breaking apart over this?” Heli choked out.

“I don’t need to be here,” Gregar muttered, and ducked away.

Heli wasn’t exactly his aunt—she was Mariek’s sister, and Gregar’s mother was Quarsh’s sister, and in plenty of families he would have had next to no obligation to her. Mariek kept all of her family knit tight together, though, a spider at the center of a web of gossip, advice, useful connections, and love. He felt a responsibility to her on top of it, for putting Versé in that position. That didn’t mean he was going to stick it out through this argument. Breaking apart was not on the agenda for tonight.

His search for air ended with him sitting on the front steps of the temple. He was still there when a figure dressed in mourning purples started up the steps, and he would have ignored her if she hadn’t called out, “Captain?”

He looked up, and it took him a moment to recognize Saché Adova. He had only seen her in passing or on the newsnets since that brief meeting almost ten years ago. She smiled at him like she was meeting an old friend, though. 

He stood to greet her. “My lady.”

“You can call me Saché if you like,” she said. “I’m supposed to be finding Padmé and Eirtaé and dragging them out for the night. Would you like to help?”

“It depends.” Saché looked at him in question, and Gregar made himself soften his tone. He didn’t want to come off sounding like an ogre. “Do I get to know where she’s going? Or at least how secure it is where she’s going? It’s been driving me crazy.”

Saché tilted her head. “You really are Panaka’s nephew,” she said. 

“It’s not…” Gregar scrubbed a hand over the back of his head. They did have similarly...strong feelings about risk-taking, particularly when their charges did it, but that wasn’t what this was about. “I don’t want to fuss at her. My cousin died.” He jerked his head towards the temple. “I want to know she isn’t going to die, too.”

A little too honest, for a near-stranger. But Saché had been a handmaiden. He saw the understanding come into her eyes at once. She reached out and pulled his arm through hers, turning them towards the temple. “Do you have plans with your family tonight?” she asked.

Gregar considered. There weren’t any official plans, and he had meant to make himself useful, but he wasn’t sure how Heli would come out the other end of her conversation with Mariek. Didn’t think he’d be welcomed, truth be told. “No,” he said.

“Then I want you to consider helping me extract Padmé, then coming with us to drink a few toasts.” Her eyes slid sideways towards him. “Nothing wild; my wife and I have kids to get back to. Just...company.”

Gregar tilted his head, acknowledging the offer. It was a kind one. He wasn’t sure if Padmé would welcome him, either. It seemed...private, an affair with friends unconnected to her current team. “I saw the senator standing with Versé’s friends a few minutes ago. I’ll show you.”

The group Padmé had been with had disbanded, but Gregar consulted a few of the guests and followed their directions further back into the crowd. Quarsh had stopped to talk to Padmé, and Saché sucked in air through her teeth at the same moment Gregar’s heart sank. Another awkward conversation, from the strained looks on their faces.

“It’s almost worse when they try to talk to each other than when they ignore each other,” Saché said. “You distract him, I’ll take Padmé. Meet us out front in five.” She pulled her arm away from his and gave him a gentle push, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t you know the steps?” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s the easiest dance in the book.” 

He hadn’t expected to smile tonight. He took a moment to smooth his face, then made a beeline for his uncle. He pulled him aside with a significant look back towards the room set aside for the family. “I’m going to head out,” he said, “but you might want to tread carefully with Heli and Mariek. They were getting into it when I saw them last.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Quarsh said, looking irritated. That was...probably fine. Quarsh at the end of his rope skewed towards snappish, but he wouldn’t take it out on anyone here. Quarsh seemed to be taking the same moment to evaluate Gregar, because he reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up,” he advised. “You’re not the one who put their lives in danger. You made the best plan you could in the face of people who play politics with explosives.”

Gregar nodded, both grateful and uneasy. Quarsh had a good heart, and he’d been in Gregar’s position, but the subjects of politics and defense were reliable conversation ruiners at any family gathering. He steered the conversation towards goodbyes, and made his way out of the memorial just inside the five minutes Saché had ordered.

Padmé turned as he approached, and she reached out immediately to catch his hands. She didn’t speak for a moment, just squeezed them, and he could see the lines of strain around her eyes.

Before she could say something horrible, like I’m sorry—they weren’t taking about the guilt, though they both knew the other felt it—Gregar cleared his throat. “Well, ladies. Shall we head out?”

Funeral III: Padmé Three weeks after the formation of the Empire

When Gregar finally returned to Naboo to pay his respects, the funeral itself was long over. He slipped into the tomb alone and tried to grasp hold of the gnawing guilt and anguish, the sick feeling that went straight to his bones.

There was nowhere for him to go. He didn’t keep an apartment here anymore. Going to Mariek or Dormé or anyone else who had helped him guard Padmé was unthinkable. He didn’t know which of the rest of his family stood with the Empire, and which against, and he wasn’t ready to test that. He didn’t know why he had come at all—he wouldn’t find his closure here.

Until now, he hadn’t let himself truly believe it. Truly feel the loss. 

A footstep behind him had him turning, blaster up and aimed before he could think about it. A slight figure stood frozen in the doorway, hands raised, the sunlight spilling in behind momentarily casting her face in too deep a shadow to make out. He recognized the voice instantly, though. “We should really try meeting in better circumstances,” Saché said dryly.

Gregar laughed, rusty as an old hinge, even though it was the farthest thing from funny. He rarely saw her face to face, although they’d kept up a lively correspondence after that terrible week of funerals. 

“This time, you can do me a favor,” he said, without thinking it through any further.

Saché stepped further into the tomb. Out of the dramatic lightning, he could see the concern in her face. “Name it,” she said lightly.

He needed to regroup. He needed to figure out who was an ally, who was an enemy. He needed to keep his head down and not get noticed, and he was pretty sure Saché lived somewhere quiet and safe. (Wasn’t she running for Bibble’s old spot? A future governor and former handmaiden would know to keep an eye on security).

“Do you have an extra bed?” he blurted.

Her expression barely shifted. He didn’t know if it was because he looked and sounded like a wild animal, or because she had something to hide. “We do. Stay as long as you like.”

Funeral IV: Jedi Knight Ondee Marter, Jedi Knight Pall Fyrfo One month after the formation of the Empire

Once—nearly fifteen years ago now—a Jedi had come to Naboo and made the ultimate sacrifice, and helped secure Naboo’s freedom in the process. He had been released into the Force in the manner of his people, and Naboo remembered his name.

The galaxy had changed since then, and too much of Naboo had followed. Gregar sat down to the hasty conference in Saché’s home office, trying not to show what a kick in the gut seeing Mariek was. 

“I had word from the palace,” Mariek said. “Two Jedi sought asylum there last night.”

She had not appeared at Quarsh’s side when he took the new office of Moff. Gregar had not been surprised, but it still hurt. Especially because his own parents had been visible among his supporters. The cracks in his family had started as hairline fractures years earlier, but they had split open with the declaration of the Empire.

He knew he could trust the people in this room. Mariek, yes, and Saché, but also her wife Yané, Eirtaé and Rabé and Dormé. He was told Sabé and Tonra could be counted in their number, too, but they weren’t on planet right now. 

Such a small number to be organizing. But a small number of people hoping and planning had freed Naboo before—with some help. 

“Two Jedi?” Yané said, with hope in her voice.

Mariek shook her head, her face grim. “They were killed,” she said. “By one of Apailana’s personal retinue.”

All the air left the room at once. Many, many changes had come, at home and abroad, but—this was near a sacrilege. And in the royal palace, at that.

“Did Apailana order it?” Eirtaé said. Her fingers clenched into a white knuckled fist.

Saché was already shaking her head. “She wouldn’t. She’s young and idealistic, but clever. Skeptical.”

“She did not,” Mariek confirmed. 

Yané pressed her fingers to her mouth, horrified. “They came for sanctuary,” she said. “Not an untimely death and an unmarked grave.”

Gregar stirred, the beginnings of an idea forming. It wasn’t important, in the grand scheme, but it could right one small wrong. “If they’re in the palace morgue, I might have a contact who can fix the second one,” he said.

Three weeks after the world’s end, their first act of rebellion was a secret funeral for two lost Jedi. Few saw the pyres, and none would speak their names as they once had Qui-Gon Jinn’s, but their small circle would remember sending them off as they deserved. 

A Proposal Two years after the formation of the Empire

“You should go to bed,” Gregar said, craning his head to look down at Mirri.

“Don’t wanna,” Mirri complained, though her eyes were half-closed as she looked down at the book cradled in her lap. Gregar tied off the braid he’d been working on and lightly tugged on the end.

“I do things I don’t want to do all the time,” he said.

“Oh? Like what?” came a voice from the doorway, rich and amused.

Gregar tipped his head back. Yané stood there with her arms crossed, curls spilling over one shoulder. “Eat Saché’s cooking experiments,” he said.

“It’s not kind to talk negatively about people behind their backs,” Yané said.

“I give Saché critiques to her face,” Gregar said.

Yané smiled a little, and then pointed at Mirri. “You. Gregar is right. Time for little ones to go to bed, so they can be rested to finish their books tomorrow. Yes?”

Mirri grumbled, but Yané got bedtime sorted, and both of them ended up in the kitchen, passing around the latest news from Bail’s cell and nursing warm drinks. Saché came down eventually. She circled behind Yané and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, then leaned there, her cheek pressed against her hair. “You don’t want to sit?” Yané murmured.

“Too much sitting,” Saché said. 

Yané sighed, but patted Saché’s hand. “You want to start?” she asked.

“Now?” Saché said.

“When is the house gonna be quieter?”

“Am I expecting a lecture?” Gregar asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Both of them turned to look at him with identical looks he categorized as ‘listen to your mother.’ Because he wasn’t one of the children they fostered, he weathered it calmly. “It’s about the living situation,” Yané said.

“Ah. The ‘you’ve been a great help, but it’s time to start apartment hunting’ speech, then,” Gregar said. He’d planned on initiating that conversation himself more than a year ago, but he’d gotten used to it here. He was hit now with a pang of premature nostalgia.  

“Sweetheart?” Yané said, looking up at Saché.

Saché pulled away from her and settled into the chair beside her. “Actually,” she said, “since we’ve never really talked about the terms of this arrangement other than ‘sure, stay as long as you like, you’re not imposing,’ I thought we should finally talk about it.”

“Please don’t take credit for my ideas,” Yané said, mock-pained. Gregar tilted his head. She shook her head. “Saché, whom I love dearly, with all of my heart, will happily sit with a situation and hope that wishing really hard will make it turn out the way she wants it. You, Gregar, just make up your mind that you know both sides of a conversation without actually talking to anyone. Especially if the conclusion you reach is something you don’t want.”

Saché broke in. “What she’s trying to say is...well, do you want to join the household?” She waved around at the kitchen around them. “It’s chaotic on the best days, and all the adults in it are members of a rebel cell, and I am going to have to ask you to help scrape paint off the hallway ceiling if you stay, but…”

Gregar opened his mouth, and Saché shut hers immediately, looking suddenly shy. At first, all that came out was air. This had never been the household he pictured for himself. But the galaxy had changed, and even before it had, Gregar had stopped expecting life to go the way he planned it. Every now and then, in the rough currents of life, you came upon a sturdy raft. Gregar would be a fool not to reach for it with both hands.

“I would like that,” he said roughly. “Very much.”

[skekheck]

In that same vein, how about gelfling ranking??? OwO

Warning this post may contain lightly spiced opinions. Also not going to list all of them because there’s a lot...

BUT HERE WE GOOOOOO

1. Seladon: Say what you want with how AOR handled her redemption arc, but she’s by far the most interesting and complexly written gelfling character in the series. She was raised with a lot of pressure, being the eldest daughter of the all Maudra. She had to train hard and taught by a mother who never really showed her love or recognize her accomplishments. Most scenes she’s in with Mayrin her mother criticizes her constantly. Seladon was raised to serve the skeksis and that their word is law and true. And then suddenly her mother and her younger sister who she had a strained relationship are planning to flip it upside down. Lead by the being who represents all of Thra who hasn’t been seen or heard of in forever. And then her mother was murdered for treachery and further being manipulated by the beings she was taught to serve. Does any of this excuse what she did? Of course not, but constantly seeing people berate her over actual genocidal turkeys is very telling how people’s biases get in the way of what’s going on. But at the same time, a character generating this much discussion for her gray morale is proof of how great of a character she is. Also she rocks the goth look. 

2. Kylan: Sweetest boy. Because he’s a minor character in AOR, I’m going to be talking about him from the books. His characterization was inconsistent in Shadows, but they became clearer in Song thanks to the fact his story was told from his perspective. He never really fit into anything: his parents were taken from him at an young age, his step-mother was not very kind to him despite loving him, he never fit in as a Spriton. Now, being part of a resistance of fighters, he once again feels inadequate as a songteller. How can a songteller fight the skeksis? Kylan struggled with self-worth, constantly comparing himself to his peers. But through his travels, he discovers that he has a place in the resistance and there are things that he can do that no one else can. He took on and defeated skekLi the Satirist through playing is firca (and aided by the mystics). Kylan was able to engrave dreametches (a rare and hard to learn skill) into the petals of the Sanctuary Tree to get the word out about the skeksis. He even saved Tavra’s life. He may be the broth boy in AOR, but he’s the smart, shy but very sweet songteller and I think more people should acknowledge that. 

3. Tavra: Absolute MVP in both AOR and the book series. There are things I wish AOR kept about her, like her relationship with Onica (but I feel this can still be remedied if they find the right way to include it). She was the glue in her relationship with her sisters, keeping them together even after she “passed away”. Although it took her a while to get there, Tavra shined even brighter in the books. After losing her original body, she lives the rest of her life as a spider. Like Kylan, she was having her own self-doubts of what she could do with her new body. She does manage to find ways to work around her predicament, but seeing what sacrifices she would have to make (like not being able to see her sisters ever again) is heart breaking. Whatever her situation may be, in both iterations her bravery is commendable and I absolutely adore her character.

4. Periss: So this is my complete bias coming in, but I loved this character. Although he’s not my favorite from the book series anymore, he still remains high on my list. He’s a rebel: he hates his clan and their complacent ways. He knew their Great Tree was alive, but no one listened to him as they thought he wasn’t able to let go. He fought with his brother, sandmaster Erimon, to the point he decided to run away. Periss became a thief who grew a fondness for materialism, as opposed to a clan who lives on minimalism. When the main group finds him after stealing from them, they force him to get them to the Dousan Clan and indirectly confront his problems. It’s there that we find he’s not completely selfish and cares for those around him. I adore smug thief characters with a heart of gold and Periss quickly grew on me. Please be in future seasons.

5. Onica: While a minor character in AOR, she plays a bigger role in the book series. Her characterization is similar, but we get to see more of her: she has a backstory and established relationships with other characters. She lost her wings while stuck in a storm, losing her wings by saving one of her friends. Although she mourns over the loss, she will never regret doing what she did and even concluding that meeting Tavra was worth it. She’s also got a little sass to her and I love how she doesn’t take shit from no one. I hope we get to see this version of Onica in future seasons.

6. Naia: Once again, book series does her more justice. She’s a headstrong badass who cares about her family and goes through great lengths to find her brother. Like a lot of her friends, she has her own problems of fitting in into the grand scheme of things and eventually doubting herself when she believed her one special gift was taken from her. Also she had a super interesting expansion on her dreamfasting ability where not only could she dreamfast with animals but also with the skeksis/mystics (with Gurjin involved). She doesn’t take shit and she gets stuff done no matter how hard it is. 

7. Maudra Argot: Sassy, doesn’t take any shit, should have been the All Maudra. How dare Mayrin rob that from her?

8. Maudra Seethi: My favorite maudra only for the tiniest bit of lore about her and design. I want to know more about you. Gimmie more lore.

9.  Rek’yr: He’s really cool, but there’s not much to him. Hopefully we get a prequel comic starring him soon.

10.  Kira: Should have been the protagonist of the movie. She’s a cute bog princess with a noisy rolly polly dog, can speak to animals, used said animals to kill a skeksis, knows how to use throwing weapons, what’s not to love? Sequel comics ruined her, though.

11.  Brea: I love her inquisitiveness and her need to find the truth. I said this before, but my friend and I joked she was BOTW!Zelda and that still sticks with me. The two are so much alike. Brea is my favorite out of the main trio, but I wished she was as developed as her sisters.

12.  Gurjin: I like him just fine. I don’t really get why people are so thirsty for him but everyone’s got different interests. He is really funny though and kiddos to him for staying strong while being tortured by the skeksis. He’s kind of the odd one out as I like him better in AOR than I did in the book series. I mean we didn’t really get to know him until Flames and by then he just couldn’t leave an impression on me.

13.  Mira: Should have been alive instead of Rian. I kinda really wanted an all girl trio.

14.  Maudra Ethri: I wish they kept her gem eye that was really cool.

15. Maudra Fara: She’s cool. That’s all I can really say.

16.  Maudra Mayrin: Conflicted. One hand I understand why she acts the way she does but on the other hand that doesn’t excuse her from treating Seladon so poorly. Even when she finally steps up to the skeksis I don’t think it really makes up for what she did. A golden star for trying, though.

17.  Elder Cadia: Who?

18.  Deet: Okay I might get some salty fans on me but... I don’t particularly care for Deet? Like she’s cute and should be protected, but that’s really it. She’s just cute. It’s cool to see things from her perspective: the surface world of Thra is so new and newcomers to the series can see its wonders and dangers through her. But there’s not much else. Hopefully this changes but I’m not very impressed.

19.  Rian: Now I don’t mind him, but I think I fell into the camp of I wish Mira was alive instead. He’s the typical hero character who’s needlessly surrounded by tragedy. The show never really gets him to mourn properly. And then he just moves on from Mira to Deet just like that? He’s also not really interesting as a character. He’s my least favorite of the main trio.

20.  Ordon:  I like him, but I don’t think he was very rememberable. I think he resolved his issues with his son too quickly and as soon as they reunite Ordon is killed off. His sacrifice wasn’t even worth it because skekMal survived anyway. Ordon’s death felt cheap, adding needless trauma and sorrow for Rian who was already dealing with the loss of Mira. Ordon deserved better.

21.  Amri: Okay here’s another take people might get salty over: he’s boring. he had promise being a weird experimenter, but we don’t really get to see much of that except for a few instances. Amri had a collection of jars full of weird junk he made. They were brought up in Song and never again. I’m not sure why he became the protagonist of Tides I feel like he should have remained as a side character. He just never made an impression on me.

22.  Jen: As interesting as white bread. I haven’t read the novelization of the movie yet so this opinion may change, but he’s just... not interesting. Also the sequel comics totally ruined him for me.

23. Kensho: I keep forgetting him most of the time. He’s boring.

24. Maudra Mera: Fuck this racist bitch. Worst gelfling 0/10.

[kakusu-shipping]

Overwatch Self-Insert plots

Ah yes, can’t breath, can’t see, perfect time to write down the overarching Multi Universe plot that is my Overwatch Self-Inserts.

This post is gonna be just like my DR SI post from the other day, only without drawings cause all my F/Os from Overwatch are Omnics and I can’t draw and also I’m like 70% blind rn so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

All of my Self-Inserts stem from the same baseline story, and branch off depending on certain plot points. I’ll cut off at branches as necessary. To anyone who cares enough to read, good luck following along. And thankyou.

Before the Omnic Crisis, my family operated a large branch of Omnic engineering and repairs, engineering many of the modern Omnic servant models, and offering near perfect repair services. I was raised in the Omnic crisis, and still mastered Omnic repair and care.

After a peace agreement passed in the USA, my family’s business went under, as the creation of new Omnics was considered illegal. And while they could still run a repair service for Omnics, they grew a hateful bias twords Omnics and refused service to any non-servant Omnics.

I, however, saw my work on Omnic repairs closer to that of a Doctor than a Mechanic. I didn’t agree with my family’s refusal to help Omnics unless they were owned like property. So, I made a plan to leave. (Branch begin)

Option A:

Pack up all I own and head across Country, serving and caring for Omnics I find injusticed.

Upon leaving my home in Kentucky, I traveled West blindly, eventually landing on Route 66, right in the middle of a gang fight.

I’ll admit, I’m short. It’s no surprise the Cowboy styled gang assumed as I was a child. It is surprising, however, that they cared enough to have the large Omnic, BOB, stop attacking to grab me and take me to cover.

When the Gang returned to the hide-out the Omnic had carried me too, I had already finished repairing any bullet wounds he’d taken while running off. I thanked them for saving my life, and apologized for getting in the way. In return I repaired their other injured Omnics as I explained my situation.

Both Ashe and McCree invited me to stay in Deadlocke. I may not have the firepower the rest of the gang had, but my engendering was top notch, and it turns out poor BOB takes a lot of hits.

I was more than happy to find somewhere my skills could be helpful, even if it meant I had to dress like a Cowboy. (End branch)

Option B:

Steal enough money from my family and purchase a plane ticket to the Omnic Monk village in Nepal to learn from Mondatta.

I am shit at directions.

Despite landing in Nepal, and getting very specific instructions on how to get to the Omnic village on the mountain top, I still got lost.

I wasn’t exactly dressed for mountain weather, either, so it’s no wonder I ended up passing out in the snow. I would have died out there if not for the Omnic who found me, Zenyatta.

Upon awaking in the Monk village, I over thanked my savoir, before immediately pleading my case. I wanted to meet Mondatta, and offer him my services. I wanted to do good for Omnics, and assist in any way I could.

Mondatta was very welcoming, even allowing me to stay in his own home. I was the only human in the village, and everyone had questions. I suppose I caused a bit of a stir my first few weeks.

On top of general check-ups and repairs, I also spent much of my time keeping the village clean. And while it took time to learn that spiders are free to build and keep nests in the sanctuary, I eventually settled into the customs.

It wasn’t long before I began to form a crush on the Omnic who saved my life.

Not JUST because he saved my life, mind you. Though yes, originally I may have caught feelings to him for just being my hero, I was willing to allow those feelings to fade over time. But they didn’t. They simply grew.

I watched Zenyatta wander the village in thought, or take walks with Mondatta as the two discussed the deep thoughts. I saw him pull harmless pranks on his brothers and sisters, play with the children from the human village down the mountain. I saw him laugh, and dance, and admire the world around him.

He was so full of life and love. He was so.. cute.

I suppose Brother Mondatta must have caught wind of my feelings, as whenever I needed to go to the village down the mountain for supplies, he would sent Zenyatta with me as some sort of escort. To make sure I wouldn’t get lost of course.

Then, we met Genji.

He arrived at the village the same way I did, passed out in the snow and discovered by Zenyatta.

He stayed with us at first very begrudgingly, he had no where else to go and no money to his name. We set him up above the stable near Town center, so he was close by both Zenyatta and myself.

I nticed very quickly how... poorly made his prosthetics were. His chestplate stabbed into his flesh, nerve wires hung loosely off his head, his legs had knives in them for pete’s sake! He couldn’t even wear a pair of jeans in those!

While examining him for frost bite or other injuries, I carefully brought up the topic of his cyborg body. He was defensive. I let it go.

After I while I noticed he spent more time around Zenyatta, rather than just holed up in his room. He even came with us to the village down the mountain. He still didn’t speak to me much, but I did drag him into a snowball fight against the village kids with me. We got our asses beat, but it was fun.

One day, he came to me, with a piece of paper and a request. He didn’t want to look like this anymore. He asked if I could fix him, make his body feel more.. complete. I was happy to assist.

I took him though every step. We designed and purchased the parts together, I took his measurements and planned a day for his surgery. We were lucky enough to have quiet a few Omnics from the medical field on hand to help with the human parts.

Genji changed after getting his new body. He was happier. He continued learning from Zenyatta, and the three of us spent a lot of free time together. He taught me how to throw a Shuriken, I taught him how to hit a baseball.

Being such close friends, we of course eventually spilled our guts on our crushes... which happened to be the same person. And in true solidarity, we both chose not to take action. If Zenyatta liked one of us back, he’d make the first move. We’d both simply pine together.

To bad Zenyatta assumed Genji and I had feelings for one another, and decided not to throw his own feelings into the mix.

Eventually, Genji returned to Overwatch, and life went on.

When Mondatta died, the village lost a lot of color.

The monks fell quieter. They mourned in silence and went on about their lives, but no one laughed, or joked, or gathered anymore.

I couldn’t stand living in Mondatta’s house anymore, knowing he’d never return, knowing he’d never walk though the door again, knowing I could never hear his wisdom again.

I stopped sleeping. I began to wonder the village late at night until the sun came up. I’d pass out in the flowers in the sanctum, or on the stairs to Genji’s room. I just couldn’t be in that house.

Eventually, Zenyatta caught me wandering at night, cold and exhausted. He invited me to his own home. He made us tea, though he couldn’t drink his own, it made him feel more human to hold the cup in his hands.

I had mentioned in passing all the Omnics in the village had a tune. They’d play it softly while meditating, wither they noticed it or not, and a group of the monks sounded like a beautiful choir.

Zenyatta asked me.. if I remembered Mondatta’s song.

I’m glad he asked me. I was the only one who ever heard Mondatta’s tune, it would have died with him if I’d forgotten.

After that night, I began to live with Zenyatta. The village eventually recovered from Mondatta’s loss, and we were once again smiling, and laughing, and singing.

(Branch begin)

Outcome A:

Zenyatta loves me

(This arc takes place in my Overwatch everyone lives together AU)

A few months later, we celebrated my birthday. The monks weren’t a mortal possession people, so there were no gifts. But we did have a cake, and some silly decorations. Sense most Omnics were made in batch on the same day, they didn’t normally celebrate birthdays, so this was a special occasion.

And while I love the monks, they can get a bit rowdy. After all they’re all in their 20s, they can get rather hyper. I ended up sitting outside with a piece of cake, staring at the stars.

Zenyatta came to join me, with his own slice of cake, despite not being able to eat it. We sat together and watched the stars, we joked. I may have elbowed him and made him drop his cake on accident.

Zenyatta laughed it off, and said he had a confession. He went against the rules, just this once... And got me a birthday present.

You can imagine my surprise when Zen handed me a Pachimari plush doll. Really, I almost cried. To live with the monks I had to leave all of my stuffed animals behind, and I talked constantly about my abandoned comfort teddy back at home. To think he really listened....

I hadn’t planned on confessing my feelings for Zenyatta, I really was going to stick to the pack Genji and I had made but... it was all too sweet. And really, at this point, Zenyatta already knew. He was just waiting for me to say it.

When Genji returned to Nepal, he had one request; For Zenyatta to join Overwatch with him. The newly awakened team needed him, and it was the chance to change the world Zen had been waiting for.

I’d be lying if I said Zenyatta leaving didn’t break my heart a little bit... But I could hold on. He was changing the world.

In the meantime, there was plenty of Zen and Genji themed merchandise to buy.

After nearly two years of being away, Zenyatta and Genji had some time off to return to Nepal. It was only while boarding the plane did Zenyatta learn Overwatch had a Family plan for allowing Partners and family to live on base. So that was exciting news to bring home.

Despite being in Nepal after we got together, Genji was still blissfully unaware that Zenyatta and I had started dating. So you can imagine his surprise when I can sprinting at them as full speed, jumped into Zenyatta’s arms, and kissed him strong on the faceplate.

He was... a little mad I went against our oath. Though Zen took most of the fall by saying he confessed first. So he let it slide, and continued to be my greatest friend.

I end up moving onto the Overwatch base with Zenyatta, and work on Omnic repairs with Brig and Torb. I make a lot of friends living in Overwatch, and getting to spend more time with Zenyatta is always a bonus. (End Branch)

Outcome B:

Zenyatta loves Genji

(This arc takes place in a semi-everyone lives together AU)

When Genji came back to Nepal to ask Zenyatta to join Overwatch, I begged to come along. I couldn’t stand the idea of being left behind, to be unable to help and provide assistance.

Join Overwatch, most of my effort is keeping Genji in working condition, as he refuses to let Angela or Brig look over his armor, even though I gave them copies of the blueprints. He just doesn’t trust anyone else. Angela says he was like this in Blackwatch too, though back then he trusted her at least.

I also spend time learning from Brig and Torb the workings of older Omnic models. Hana even teaches me about her Mech and how it’s put together.

I spend a lot of spare time with the younger group of Overwatch agents; Hana, Brig, Lucio, Junkrat, Lynx17, and Tracer. Mei and Genji also tend to wane in and out of group activities.

On Hana’s birthday, Lucio, Jamie, and I were tasked with keeping her distracted while the rest of the crew sets up a surprise party for her. So, we take Hana out on the town, and let her decide what we do.

We find ourselves in a Casino, with a bet, and a months worth of laundry on the line. We all start with $50, the person with the least amount of money at the end looses.

I take a seat at a Poker table next to an extremely attractive Omnic. Poker was the only gambling game I knew how to play, and while I wasn’t perfect at it, it should be enough to land me in at least third.

The Omnic next to me took interest in the crew I’d slumped in with. He asked questions, and I answered, more focused on my winning streak than what I was saying.

Eventually I had a good enough chunk of change I felt confident in my placement and started to get up, but a robotic hand on my knee stopped me. “One more game” turned into two more games. Then three. Four.

I played till I was out of money, all because Maximilian asked me to stay.

When I went over the amount I had to gamble, the Omnic payed my debt, and took me on a walk. Up some stairs, down a hall, and into his office. He just wanted somewhere more private to chat.

I sat on his lap and we continued to talk, about Overwatch, what I did, his Casino, the expensive chocolates he had, Talon, everything. He was in control of the situation, and I was oblivious.

At the end of the chat, he asked for my number, and I happily gave it to him, already crushing hard on the mysterious Omnic. He promised to call, and hoped to set a date to meet again.

Hana and Lucio were both over the moon excited to hear about this Max guy, and while Jamie was quick to bully me for my attraction to Omnics, he was just as enthusiastic.

Our first date was the classiest restaurant in town, and I was SHOOK. I didn’t own anything NICE. I basically had to beg Jack for a forward on my next paycheck so I could afford a suit. 

Almost every date after was somewhere I never thought I’d be, classy restaurants, extravagant parties, high end movie premiers. And while at first Max was putting forth all this energy to gain an inside man at Overwatch, it slowly turned to a real relationship he put effort into because he really wanted it to work.

It was after my first on the field mission that I really learned who Maximilian was. Brig, Torb, Zenyatta, and I went to Germany to safely scrap the discarded Bastion units. Zenyatta was there to say a final resting prayer for the passing Omnics, I scanned for good parts, and Brig and Torb took the bots apart.

Suddenly, one of the units powered up, and upon sensing human presence, opened fire. I took a majority of the first round, luckily nothing immediately fatal, though I did black out instantly. Brigitte managed to get her shield up before any rounds hit herself or Torbjorn. Zenyatta, being the only one not targeted, took his fellow Omnic out to save our lives.

I was placed on medical leave from Overwatch duties for months. I spent those months at Max’s home, and got most of my care though Talon, mostly Moira.

When my medical leave ended, I didn’t return to Overwatch. I was offered a much safer position with Talon, one Max encouraged me to take, worried for my safety with Overwatch.

I worked as a medic for Talon’s Omnic recruits. I never saw field work, and remained mostly blissfully unaware of what Talon was really plotting. (End Branch)

[jax-writes]

P.S., I Love You

I’m actually fairly happy with how this chapter turned out. Reminder that this won’t follow the movie P.S., I Love You exactly, for a variety of reasons, and that there’s gonna be a mix of MCU and comics in this. I did in fact, ignore that Pietro ever died because his death was pointless to me. Also, don’t worry, there’s no Endgame spoilers coming in this fic. Well, kiddos, hope you enjoy!

Side note: I’m gonna try to update this once or twice a week. I don’t know how many chapters this will have for certain. Not many, as it’s based on the movie and there were only so many letters. But if you all enjoy this enough and do want a tag list, I will make one, just sent me an ask and I’ll add you!

Chapter 1

There wasn’t a single dry eye in the room as the minister spoke, least of all, Y/N. Her hand was held gently by Natasha, while Wanda sat on her other side, rubbing her back. She was still in a daze, refusing to believe that her husband was gone. Yet there he laid in front of her, eyes closed as if he were merely sleeping. She knew better though. He never looked that angelic asleep. Mouth usually open, letting out a snore. She almost laughed at the image now, before choking on more tears. Before she realized, Bucky was getting up to speak.

“The world just knew him as Captain America. Yeah, they know he’s-know he was a hero. But they didn’t see him as that scrappy little thing back in Brooklyn fighting with guys he had no business fighting with,” he smiled gently. “See, he’s always been a hero. He stuck up for the little guy even when he was the little guy himself. I saw him get into it once with this kid on our block because the kid just pushed a girl. We were twelve.” Bucky chuckled. “Steve was a brother to me. He was always there when I needed him, and,” he swallowed, meeting Y/N’s eyes. “Frankly, I don’t know what I’m gonna do without the punk here to kick my ass when I need it. I went through hell and back and Steve was waiting for me every time. But I experienced a world without him once, and I don’t like the idea of having to do it again. I know none of you do, either. The world’s a little darker today, but you know, Steve would want us all to keep doing what’s right. So I’m gonna fight and take care of as many bad guys as I can, stick up for the little guy. Steve’s waiting for me, and I gotta bring him a good story when I get there.” He looked at his friend in the casket. “To the end of the line, Pal.” The brunet walked over and kissed his friend’s widow on the forehead. “We have your back, Doll.”

She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes as Sam walked up to the podium to speak. “Okay, obviously I haven’t known the Cap as long as grandpa has.” Chuckles rang through the room as Sam paused. “But Steve was my friend. He was an ear when I needed to talk. He had advice when I needed it. When I needed the nerve to ask Wanda out, he encouraged me. He held our team together. Yeah, he led us. But he also held us together. He stitched us back together after the Accords fell through and was the first to help plan a better way. Like Barnes said, I don’t like the idea of a world without Captain America. But he wouldn’t want us moping,” he shook his head. “Nah. Bucky’s right. He’d want us to shake the dust off and get back up. Keep fightin’ because they sure as hell aren’t gonna stop. So we keep on going. If not for ourselves, let’s do it for him. Honor his memory by making the world safer.” As Bucky did, Sam also came over to her, kissing her cheek and muttering soft words of encouragement before moving to stand next to Wanda. Y/N watched through watery eyes as Tony now stood to speak, a deep sigh escaping him as he shook his head. “I don’t know about you all, but I could use a drink.” He paced across the platform, eyes on Steve’s body before he turned to sit on a step, microphone in hand. “This is team is a family, you see. And we just lost who is arguably the most important member of the family. But you know, my heart isn’t just breaking for me or for the world. No, the world will bounce back. It’ll take time. But we’ll all be okay. A darker world, certainly, but we will heal.” Tony stood now and began a slow pace around the platform. “Because Steve may have left us behind, but he did leave us behind with his own special superglue. Y/N, I’m so sorry for your loss. You’re gonna hear that a lot, and you’re gonna be so sick of it you’ll want to scream. There are no words to convey properly our sympathy. We all mourn for you and with you and when you’re ready to yell, we’ll be here for you. If you just need to blow off some steam, I’m sure we can find some bad guys for you to beat up. We love you, kid. I wish more than anything I could bring him back and take away this pain you’re feeling. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me. Until then, Terminator and Birdman said it all best. We fight in his memory and live because he wouldn’t want wallowing. So when we think of Steve Rogers, we should smile. Because he smiled even when hope seemed gone, because he knew there is always good in the world.”

As Tony moved to hug Y/N, the minister walked back to the podium. “If you’ll all please take a moment to listen to Steve’s favorite song, thinking on your favorite memories of or with him, now. Remember the words of his friends. We are not left without hope. He and everyone who loved us are waiting for us. Celebrate their lives so that you may now begin to heal.”

The tune to I’ll Be Seeing You began playing through the speakers, and her tears fell in a steady stream now. She heard the sniffles around her, but her focus was only on her husband lying in the casket. I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you. She remembered the day she first danced to the song with him. “It was worth the wait,” he’d said.

“What was?” she asked, looking up as him.

“Waiting for the right dance partner,” he smiled.

She’d laid her head on his shoulder as they swayed together, wishing to stay like that forever. She only wished she could go back and relive that now, instead of being here, having to say goodbye to the man who held her heart. She wiped away the tears as it was time to bury her husband. She let Nat and Wanda lead her to the car as Bucky, Sam, Tony, Clint, Bruce, and Peter walked the casket to the hearse. At the cemetery, the minister said more words, and she felt herself go numb as Bucky and Sam folded the American flag, and nearby soldiers began the three volley salute, and Taps played as they saluted when the shots were done, grief hanging in the air as Bucky handed her the now folded flag. The casket was lowered into the ground and her body shook with more grief.Condolences were given at the wake, but Y/N barely came out of her sorrow to speak, let alone blink. Someone had gotten her a plate of food and a drink, but it sat in front her, untouched.

(Three Weeks Later)

She was sitting on the bed, cross legged, wearing a pair of his boxers-the joke Captain America ones she’d bought him for his birthday last year-and one of his shirts, an old movie in front of her, hairbrush in hand as she got up and sang into it. Judy Garland had a better voice than she did, but she was giving her a run for her money with the dramatics. As the song came to a close, she finished with a dramatic pose by the couch and applause rang through the room.

“Encore!” the cheerful voice of Wanda shouted.

“W-what are you all doing here?” Y/N was a deer in the headlights, glancing at Wanda, Nat, Sam, and Bucky, who were standing just inside the doorway, gift bags and balloons in hand.

“Happy Birthday!” they cheered.

Bucky scrunched his nose and everyone began talking over each other at once. “What is that smell?”

“Have you gone outside?”

“What’d you do to your head?”

“I-it’s a pimple.” Y/N stuttered.

“You always pop it too hard,” Natasha tutted, glancing at the bandage.

“What is that smell?” Bucky muttered once more.

“It’s me, alright!” Y/N snapped, throwing her hands up in the air before tossing the hairbrush to the couch. “I didn’t expect company,” she sighed, sinking to the couch.

“Alright, we’ll leave if you want. But at some point, you have to stop wallowing and get back to living,” Wanda sighed, setting down her gift bag.

“I-okay, just give me a minute,” Y/N nodded and went to the bathroom to shower.

“Alright troops. Spread out,” Sam spoke, nodding at the garbage littering the quarters. The men took care of that while Wanda went to take care of dishes and Nat went to pick out an outfit for her friend for the night.

Soon, she was dressed in a little black dress and a pair of flats, hair and makeup done perfectly. No sign she’d be holed in her room for days at all. Her friends all gathered around her as she finished opening up the presents from them. A knock sounded at the door before it opened and Pietro held up a box. “Y/N, this just arrived for you. Happy Birthday!”

She tilted her head as Pietro came in a set it on the coffee table. When she opened the box, she saw a birthday cake, ‘Happy Birthday, Y/N! Love, Steve’ was written in blue icing on top of white. “Who-Bucky did you do this?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I-look-” he pulled something from the lid of the box-a tape recorder, and handed it to her.

She glanced around at her friends, nervous before pressing ‘play’.

“Doll, I wish I could be there to see you celebrating your birthday. But it’s good to know you’re surrounded by our family. I figured I’d hold off on these til your birthday, not that I really knew when these would be delivered. I don’t even know if I’m doing this for a good reason. Our line of work is just so dangerous. And there’s no guarantees we’ll walk away from every mission. I don’t want to leave you alone and hurting. So I assume if you’re hearing this, something happened,” there was a pause in the recording as Steve seemed to be collecting himself. “Sweetheart, words cannot express how much I love you. I figured there’d be some time of you ignoring the world and since I’m no psychic, I don’t know if my timing is right. But here’s hoping it’s good enough. It’s your birthday, Baby. So I want you to go out. Get dolled up. Nat, make a plan-”

“On it!” the red head jumped up, pulling Bucky with her.

“Go celebrate. Bucky, take care of my girl. Go have fun. You all deserve it. Take a break from life, and enjoy a night. Now, Doll, I’ve arranged some more letters for you. They’ll come to you different ways and at different times. I have an inside man, and though I know you can easily figure out who it is, I don’t want you to think about it. I want you to just go with it. Lord knows I always did the overthinking for us. So just take them as they come. They first will arrive in the morning but you can deal with that then. Now go have fun. P.S., I love you.” She met Bucky’s gaze, tears in her eyes.

“He’s an ass. How could he plan all this if he didn’t even know he was going to die?”

The assassin shrugged. “You know Steve. He was always overly prepared. Always careful. But hey, let’s listen to him. Let’s go celebrate your birthday.”

She nodded and followed him as he went in search of his wife. Before she knew it, they were blocks away at a bar, drinking to celebrate her birthday. Strangers in the bar were coming up to them all, wanting pictures, and coming to her to offer condolences. Some were coming to thank them for saving the world. It was all a little overwhelming to her in the moment, but alcohol was her friend. And then she made friends with a few bar patrons, drunkenly rambling about Steve to them.

“Honey, I lost my Phil fifteen years ago. It hurts, and it don’t really stop hurting. But you take it day by day, and you’ll be fine. And God willing, you find love again. And that’s okay too. You don’t even have to stop loving your husband. That won’t happen, But you do accept that it’s okay to love another and he wouldn’t want you alone forever,” an older woman patted her hand. “You’ll be okay, hon. You’ll be okay.”

She accepted the comfort and tried to enjoy the rest of the night out with her friends when Wanda and Nat came over and whisked her to the dancefloor. They group ended the night back at the compound, with more drinking. Y/N sneaked away to the closet by the kitchen as the rest of the group played pool or just mingled.

Pietro wandered over to the closet, intent on grabbing a towel to wipe up the soda he’d knocked over. “Oh shit!”

“Sorry,” She chuckled awkwardly, looking up at him.

“What are you doing in here, Y/N?”

“Trying to figure out why fate decided it was my husband who had to die and not me.”

“Well,” Pietro scratched his face. “If you need any help with that let me know, I’ll just-” he nodded once and closed the door before starting to walk away.

“Wait!” she opened the door and pulled him roughy into the closet with her. “Why do you think-?”

“It was him and not you?” she nodded, prompting him to answer. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe you were too happy and karma got petty? Maybe. Maybe the universe just sucks. Sorry I don’t actually have answers.” He shrugged. “I mean you’re really pretty. Some gods are jealous.”

“Believe me, I don’t think someone can be too happy and I most certainly am not too pretty,” she slurred, still nursing a drink that she pulled off a shelf by her shoulder.

“I think you’re hot!” he grimaced at his word vomit. “Sorry, you know I don’t have much of a filter.”

She nodded. “Yeah it’s fine. I think-I’m goin’ to bed, Piet.” She blinked slowly, handing him her drink before turning and leaving. Pietro blinked down at the drink now in his hand, looked up at the door that had just clicked shut, and shook his head. He looked up at the ceiling before speaking. “Cap, you left her too soon.”

[blue-dream-rhapsody]

On Kugo Ginjo, Part 3/?: The Actions of Actors

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Tsukishima calls Ginjo a bad actor one time, and the result is this ridiculously long analysis.

[Long and photo-heavy-ish post ahead!]

When Kugo’s past is confirmed as the only one that was changed during the bulk of The Lost Agent, it is also confirmed that the rest of Xcution is fully cognizant of the situation they’re in the entire time. They remember the endgame that Kugo doesn’t, and even while they’re getting to know Ichigo and becoming somewhat fonder of him they’re still working in service of it. Riruka is the only one to visibly show doubt, but even she nonetheless sticks with the plan.

So that raises the question of why. We get Kugo’s motive well enough, but why are the others willing to go along with this? What is it that they’re going to gain from emotionally destroying a perfectly kind and understanding kid who yeah, maybe at one point was a symbol of everything Kugo hated, but right now is just trying to live his life? Why do this to someone who could very easily be one of their own, and who some of them even grow to like along the way?

For Giriko, the answer is pretty unremarkable.

He wanted power, and he was going to get it by manipulating Ichigo. He’s the one to first insist on Kugo’s promise to share with them, and is the most vocal about enjoying it once he has it. Even in his fight with Kenpachi his only obsession is with being the stronger man. For someone who supposedly finds his ability “perilous” he’s awfully reckless about amplifying it. Arrogance seems to be a serial problem for him, and it’s really about time when he ends up dead.

Yukio is somewhat the same, seeking the power to assert himself as well, due to his rather fragile (and immature) ego. Ichigo is merely the means to that end for a boy who has demonstrated more than a little trouble with empathy; Yukio is spoiled, and used to taking what he wants. However, at the end of everything, he does reveal a less self-centered side of himself which suggests he feels some loyalty to the other Fullbringers.

Shishigawara is worth a mention before I go any further.

His motivation is as simplistic as it gets—he’s fighting for what Tsukishima is fighting for. He’s pretty much separate from everybody else; there’s no evidence that he knows the rest of Xcution, and even Kugo seems to have no knowledge of him when they fight in the mansion, so it’s likely he was kept completely out of the loop on the greater plan apart from what his boss deigned to tell him. Additionally, he has no designs on Ichigo’s power, and seems unaware anyone else was getting any of it. He doesn’t have any contradicting personal familiarity with Ichigo like the others, either; he’s a punk kid fighting just another perfect stranger, per Tsukishima’s orders.

And then there’s Jackie.

She’s, to me, where things start to get complex. Because as Yukio says, Jackie hates her powers. She runs with the others to catch up to Kugo, but the entire time Giriko is waxing obnoxious about sharing, and then once she’s made stronger, she’s completely quiet. Somber. She doesn’t protest like Riruka, but it’s pretty obvious from her expressions that this isn’t especially what she wanted.

Yet, in a way, it is. She hates her Fullbring because it was useless to save her family. That association is never going to go away. But if she gets ahold of Ichigo’s power, this time it may be enough to protect Xcution. Jackie is the one at the end to propose the remaining three stick together. She’s the one who stopped to bury Giriko’s body when she came across it. Xcution makes up the people who are important to her, and even if she hates the thing that makes her one of them, she’s happy that she is one of them. She didn’t quite manage the same aloofness toward Ichigo that Yukio and Giriko did (she fought him one on one, after all), but loyalty most definitely compelled her to put any warmth she felt toward him on ice in the end.

And there may be something else she hints at, too, in this little moment she has with Renji.

This can be read one of two ways. In one, where Jackie means this literally, she’s simply wishing someone had come into her life sooner and saved her from her own cynicism.

The second way, however, it isn’t that Jackie hasn’t been saved. It’s just that, rather than it being by somebody like Renji, it was somebody like Kugo. Someone who she cares about, sure, and someone she understands. But in understanding him, it’s very easy to imagine she also sees his flaws, from his violent obsession with vengeance to his manipulative callousness. She says herself, at the end, that she realized the only thing that had ever tied the members of Xcution together was their shared experience as Fullbringers. They weren’t brought together out of a promise of a home, or a place to belong—Kugo recruited them all under him with a promise to give them the power the regular world has denied them.

And she mourns that. She wants things to be different, has been hoping for a thread of genuine connection with these others like her, and it’s why she asks Yukio if they can stick together a little longer, and why she’s moved when he replies the way he does. She knows what Kugo built wasn’t a place for warm fuzzies, but it’s all she has. It’s the only thing he could give her and the others, because of the way he is. But somebody like Renji? Someone who could show concern for not only a stranger, but an enemy; someone who doesn’t just surrender to a situation he can’t change; someone who won’t let go of his principles for anything? If she’d been saved by somebody like that instead, then she may have been in a completely different place. But here she is, and she’s not sorry she fought for it.

This brings me to Riruka, and the recurring theme that cropped up several times through this whole arc.

At first pass, her aim may seem to be inline with everyone else’s. She’s a part of Xcution, so she’s doing what they’ve all been directed to do. She’s isolated by her powers, but also identifies with them and takes some pride in the way they make her different. But where Yukio and Giriko have no qualms about their actions, and Jackie seems to have suppressed any misgivings she might’ve had, Riruka shows again and again that it’s weighing on her considerably. She’s forthright about not wanting Ichigo’s power. She tries to shut out Orihime’s attempts at friendship because she knows what’s coming. Her conscience is eating at her, and yet she still goes along with the plan.

She doesn’t want Ichigo’s power for herself, so why is she still ignoring her guilt and helping things along? What’s enough to make that worth it for her?

She tells us, twice.

First, to Rukia:

And then again, to Tsukishima:

You know, this is the one arc where one of Ichigo’s friends hasn’t been taken by an enemy. Ichigo, for once, doesn’t have to break into the Soul Society, or Hueco Mundo, or the Wandenreich to get anybody back. Yet somehow, over the course of the six volumes making up The Lost Agent, the concept of “saving” someone comes up six times (and that’s ignoring Yukio’s saving ability). Urahara saved everybody from Aizen. Ichigo saved Orihime from her pain. Ichigo saved the Soul Society.

Jackie wishes somebody like Renji had saved her. Kugo saved the Fullbringers from their isolation.

Ichigo saved Kugo.

I think we might be hitting on a common thread here.

And if you look at the scene where that last one is said:

“…Ichigo.”

Ding, ding, ding.

Everybody in Xcution knew the full scope of the plan from Day One. They all knew what Ichigo was, and they all knew what Kugo was. They knew why it was Ichigo he was going after, and each had their own reasons for their complicity. For Giriko and Yukio, this was a chance to make themselves more powerful. For Jackie, it was a means to gain the strength to protect her new family. For Shishigawara, it was what he was told to do. But what this moment suggests is that, in Riruka’s case, what she wanted wasn’t something for herself.

She says here, “We couldn’t save Ginjo.” And it’s all but a confession, isn’t it? To say you couldn’t, you have to have tried. You have to have wanted to. So was what Riruka wanted from all of this, to save Kugo?

She felt more guilt than anyone that they were lying to Ichigo. But for Kugo, the betrayed Deputy, he’s nothing less than the successor who got to be the hero. He’s a symbol of every injustice Kugo’s endured, and a reminder of everything he could’ve been if he’d just been given the chance. And there’s no doubt that, at the very least in the beginning, destroying Ichigo could sound like the closure he needed. If that was what it was going to take to grant some peace to the man who she feels saved her, and that felt like a big enough debt, then perhaps that was enough to overpower any of her doubts.

And, do you know what else is significant about this moment? Tsukishima listens, and stops.

He doesn’t care about Ichigo. He hasn’t had the same experience as everyone else (Kugo included), getting to know him over the past few days and seeing him for the person he is beyond being their target. And that’s assuming he would’ve had the capacity to feel anything genuine for him in the first place. He doesn’t let Ichigo go because Riruka has tapped some inner sense of morality Tsukishima has, or even because her defending him has somehow moved him. He stops because what she said is the truth, and it’s a truth he knows.

Because he wanted the same thing she did—to save Kugo. And in this brief moment of clarity, he sees Ichigo’s actions, Kugo’s death, as the salvation they’d failed to give him—salvation he, too, feels a strong desire to repay.

Remember how, when Riruka says all of this above, his mind goes to the day he and Kugo met?

He never calls it by that name, and from an outside perspective looking at the way he turned out, it may not seem like a positive thing. But he’s the same as the other Fullbringers.

He tried, too. He went along with the plan Kugo had decided on, because he too knew about Kugo’s Deputy past and certainly thought the same thing Riruka did—that it would be what he needed. Although…

…this isn’t the answer of someone who’s thrilled with the idea. Tsukishima’s emotional capacity doesn’t often expand beyond sadistic pleasure (his breakdown notwithstanding, obviously), and he has absolutely no problems backtalking to or outright refusing orders from Kugo. Yet here, he actually seems to be biting his tongue. Is it about the plan itself, how he knows it’s going to make Kugo hate him from the bottom of his heart? Or is it about the little ways Kugo has sabotaged his own odds, and the possible consequences? With him being the way he is, it’s difficult to say, but one thing stands true—he, himself, isn’t looking to gain anything from this.

When Kugo grants the other members of Xcution part of Ichigo’s stolen power, Tsukishima makes the case for giving some to Shishigawara, too. But notably, he never mentions getting any for himself; Kugo’s never shown giving any to him, not even along with the others; neither ever even brings it up, as if it wasn’t ever a question between them (and Book of the End is terrifying as it is, so this is probably for the best). There’s no motive of ambition for Tsukishima, beyond at most getting to have a little fun with his existing ability at Ichigo’s expense.

He plays his part in this entirely for Kugo’s sake.

Riruka knows what kind of person Tsukishima is better than the audience does. If talking him out of his vengeance was pointless, she wouldn’t have bothered trying to reason with him, especially not in the irrational state he was in. But she said what she did because she knew he would get it. And he does. He lets Ichigo be, and grieves the man he’s lost.

[I’m haunted even more by the dub’s treatment of her lines in that exchange; she says, “Face the facts. We couldn’t have stopped this.” It really feels like the inevitability or the necessity of Kugo’s death was a truth Riruka had come to accept along the way.]

[uselessnocturnal]

Lifeline

olivarry week 2018 | day two | mythology

summary; Oliver would argue that Barry is no ordinary soldier. He is not a minor character. He is not a figure in the backgrounds, hidden by Oliver’s shadow. He is compassionate and loyal with a courageous and gentle heart who deserves better than what life throws at him.  He is Oliver’s whole world. His lifeline.

-

Seduced by the promise of a glorious victory, Oliver chooses to fight against the Trojans to rescue Helen of Sparta. Barry, out of love and fear for his friend, follows Oliver into war; little knowing that the following years would test their steadfast friendship and their deepening bond.

notes; it’s seven am in the morning i have not slept and i got way too into this and i feel like i’m going to be at least a day late every day now ughh. I actually had so much fun writing this? It’s so long though you might be better off reading it on ao3. It’s heavily inspired by the song of achilles with touches of percy jackson.

read here on ao3!

In the midst of the blood and war and shouts, Oliver mourns.

It’s not a quiet mourning. Oliver sobs openly – gut wrenching sounds that mix seamlessly with the cries of war. He cradles a man, limp and cold, against his gold-plated chest, staring into his unseeing eyes and shouting at him – pleading with him – to wake up, please, I can’t do this without you. He prays to his mother, Thetis, and to Hermes, a god who favoured the young man Oliver held and yet there is silence.

The gods are busy. Or they don’t care.

If anyone paid closer attention to the greatest demigod of the ages, they’d be surprised. Why this desperate grief? Why mourn a man with such a shocking intensity? Whose death must it have been to undo the mighty Oliver?

Oliver would argue that the man was no ordinary soldier. He was not a minor character. He was not a figure in the backgrounds, hidden by Oliver’s shadow. He was compassionate and loyal with a courageous and gentle heart who deserved better than what life threw at him.

He was Oliver’s whole world. His anchor.

Barry.

In the age of Heroes, there is always one that seems to draw the short end of the stick. Barry was a disappointment to both his father and his kingdom. When other boys were going on their first hunt, Barry could barely raise a spear. Whilst other boys were adorned with laurel wreaths, Barry stood away from the competition. At the age of eleven, he had been taken in by King Robert of Starling Kingdom and lives there, an unwanted shamed prince, under the shadow of the king’s golden son, Oliver.

Oliver, just a year older than Barry, is everything that Barry is not – strong, beautiful, the son of the goddess Thetis – and under normal circumstances their paths would never have crossed. Turns out, this wasn’t normal and for reasons still unknown to Barry, Oliver takes an interest in him.

When he finds out Barry skips training, Oliver starts bringing him to his classes as an excuse. Turns out, Barry can’t carry a tune on the lyre to save his life. When Oliver’s tutor offers him a lyre and he attempts to play it, Oliver’s electric blue eyes stare at the younger boy with a mix of confusion and laughter, “I never thought anyone could make the lyre sound bad.” Oliver confesses, faux-wonder in his tone.

It’s a different feeling to the burning humiliation when he’s teased during training and, though he can feel his cheeks warm, laughter bubbles out of his throat and before long they’re just two boys giggling uncontrollably with an exasperated teacher sitting by helplessly.

Their tentative connection falls into a steadfast friendship. Barry starts spending a lot of time with Oliver, often invited to events that would usually be exclusive to the royal family. Throughout the years, they only grow closer, spending almost every waking moment with each other.

They lie together on the floor by King Robert’s feet as he weaves a tale of gods and creatures for them. At fifteen, Barry’s reached that stage where everything is growing and now he’s just a bundle of awkward limbs that seem to stretch out everywhere. Oliver, on the other hand, has grown into his body extraordinarily well all broad-shouldered and tanned muscle. Barry would complain that it was incredibly unfair if he didn’t secretly think that Oliver was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

Barely listening to the king’s stories anymore, Oliver nudges Barry with his foot grinning like he’s just played the perfect joke. Barry rolls his eyes, hoping the darkness of the candle-lit room conceals his quiet blush, returning the smile with one of his own, kicking Oliver back eliciting a short laugh from him.

Robert, sensing their fidgeting, sits up straighter in his chair and lets a fond expression (albeit slightly disgruntled at the interruption) cross his face. He rises, gesturing the two to follow as they leave the room to the corridor. Barry stands to the side as they share a quick, private conversation. Robert points at one of the slave girls down the corridor and he’s not quite sure why but his heart drops to his stomach and an uneasy feeling overcomes him.

It’s around this age that both the boys would be starting to bring girls back to their bedrooms. Barry knows for a fact that the other boys Robert fosters have as they brag about their conquest the next day. As far as he was aware, though, Oliver hasn’t had anyone in his room and it seems that the king was getting concerned.

Having finished his conversation, Robert bids the two goodnight and returns to his chambers. The two stand silently for a moment, two silhouettes in the darkness.

Barry plays with his fingers for a moment before meeting Oliver’s striking eyes (even though he’s a year younger, he’s fairly sure he’ll be taller than the demigod) before asking quietly, “What did your father say?”

He can just about detect movement as Oliver shakes his head and responds in a low voice, “He told me that the girl has been staring at me the past few days. He says she’s intrigued.”

“Are you- are you going to bring her to bed?” Barry chooses his words carefully, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He almost can’t hold back a sigh of relief when Oliver shakes his head again.

“My father…” Oliver starts hesitantly, “he said my mother wants me to go and train with Chiron the Centaur and…I want you to come with me.”

Barry’s head spins. This conversation has just taken a complete one-eighty and though the thrill of going somewhere – leaving the palace – with Oliver (!) instructed by a goddess is overwhelming, there’s something about the statement that makes the whole situation seem almost forbidden.

He nods numbly, eagerly and still he asks, “Will your father be okay with it?”

A mischievous grin lights up his face, “Definitely not. You’re going to have to sneak out.”

“You’re joking.” Barry splutters, “I can’t do that!"

Oliver places his hands reassuringly on Barry’s shoulders, “You can,” he takes a step forward so they’re only an inch away from each other and he’s back to staring at those beautiful blue eyes, “I believe in you.”

The idea excites Barry more than it should. He’s barely prepared and he’s doubtful he’ll be able to pull it off but Oliver believes in him.

It fills him with a hope and pride that he’s never actually experienced. He spent the night going over a plan in Oliver’s room until they were pretty sure it was foolproof and he feels almost prepared.

He stands next to the king as Oliver kneels in a goodbye, his father looking on in pride. As Oliver rises and comes over to Barry, Barry can feel his heart clench at the mere thought of Oliver leaving. It’s a ridiculous reaction, especially since he knows he’s literally going to be chasing after than man in a few hours.

“I- I’m going to miss you,” Barry admits as Robert leaves the two alone in the courtyard.

“Me too, Barr,” Oliver confesses, unaware of the butterflies he had released in Barry’s stomach with the new nickname – how much of it was for show, Barry wasn’t sure. He’s not sure where the instinct comes from but he moves in to the man, arms outstretched for a hug. He can see the hesitance in Oliver’s eyes before something like screw it crosses his mind and they embrace each other tightly.

“I’ll see you around.” Oliver breath tickles Barry’s ear, his voice holding a secret only the two of them understand. He pulls away from the hug, cheeks dusted pink, turning sharply with his pouch over his shoulder, sword at his waist and venturing out of the castle and towards Mount Pelion.

King Robert seems to pity Barry, giving him the rest of the day off, leaving Barry with nothing to do until he sets his plan into action. The few hours without Oliver is harder than he’d thought it would have been. Without his company, there isn’t much Barry could do…it had honestly been a while since he felt this lost.

The plan starts after nightfall. It’s a simple plan really – the two had just decided to complicate it to entertain themselves. All Barry really had to do was take his weapons (of which he had little to no skill in using) and just run out of the gate. The hardest part is memorizing where to go. Thankfully this plan harnessed Barry’s few and greatest talents – speed and memory – so it really isn’t too much of a problem.

Running away from the palace is exhilarating. Ignoring the calls of guards who he knows will give up soon enough, this is the best feeling in the world. He can feel the air, the wind on his face and the ground beneath his feet, lifting him up and pushing him forward. The adrenaline pumps through his veins and he’s never felt more powerful before – running towards Oliver.

In the blanket of night, Barry’s hurtling through the jungle at the speed of light until he crashes into Oliver. The two of them fall to the ground and somehow they both know it’s each other. There’s no resistance as they tumble together across the dirt and leaves. Barry laughs breathlessly, flushing, as they roll to a stop, Oliver on top, a small but exasperated smile on his face.

“Sorry,” Barry breathes, “I was just…running.”

A small chuckle escapes Oliver, “It’s okay.”

Oliver’s weight eases off him and he offers a hand to Barry, “C’mon, we’ve got a long trip ahead.”

Barry grins and takes his hand.

It’s a few days until they reach where Chiron’s meant to be. They’re both exhausted and sweaty from the journey and all they want is to collapse. Because, yes, Oliver’s a demigod and he has a ridiculously high stamina and Barry can definitely hold his own but it’s more out of the comfort zone than they had both expected.

“We should be close.” Oliver announces, breathing heavily. Barry nods, a jerky motion, choosing to save his energy about ready to take a break. They both freeze as they hear a rustle in the trees. Oliver’s sword is out in a second and he shoves Barry behind him. A shadow looms over them and they’re met with a centaur…except he wasn’t quite.

Barry couldn’t help but stare, mouth slightly agape, at the human legs molding with the body of a horse. Chiron was different in that aspect, having two front legs that are human whilst other centaurs had the whole body of a horse. Though Barry had heard the rumours and seen the images, he was both fascinated and astonished by seeing the Great Chiron in real life. Chiron looked down on the duo, his dark eyes analytical and stern with a dusty grey beard that reminds Barry how old the centaur is and how much he must have seen. As the centaur towers over them Barry realises: This is what true power is.

“Son of Thetis, Prince Oliver of Starling,” Chiron’s voice, when he speaks, is rough and commanding, leaving no room for questions, “I have been expecting you.”

Oliver bows deeply and Barry scrambles to copy his movements, what were they to do in the presence of someone who has seen it all?

The centaur gestures them to rise and turns to Barry, “Bartholomew,” he starts, noting how Barry stiffens at the use of a name he hadn’t heard since he was exiled, “You are not supposed to be here.”

Quickly, Barry is reduced to nothing but a fumbling mess and crazy hand gestures, “Well- I –uh –just…” The words that leave his mouth are incoherent and he knows it, his cheeks flaming red.

He’s silenced by Oliver’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tightly and with the eloquence and confidence of a king responds for Barry, “He’s with me, Chiron.”

Chiron regards them silently, “and if I choose not to take him in?”

“We’re both coming,” Oliver’s confidence wavers at the question, “I –I’m not going without him.”

A knowing look crosses Chiron’s face, fleeting but definitely still there. Barry’s not sure if Oliver notices but puts it out of his mind as Chiron faces Barry once again bending down to him. “So, Bartholomew, this question is for you,” he directs, holding Barry’s gaze, “do you want to train with me?”

“Uh –it’s Barry,” he corrects without thinking, “and…yeah I’d be honoured to be trained by you.”

Chiron nods, seemingly pleased with Barry’s response. He gestures to his horse back, “Climb on and we will begin your training.”

Training with Chiron is hard, even for Oliver. Whilst they spend a lot of their time training with weapons like swords, spears and bows (a weapon which Oliver quickly grows attached to), they discover that Chiron has a lot more to offer than just combat training. The centaur pushes them to keep adapting and changing. He teaches the two simple medical practices – lessons that are not all that interesting to Oliver but something that Barry thrives at.

Often they’re left alone in the woods for a day. A test, Chiron explains, to practice adapting and survival skills. Together, they manage to make it through mostly unscathed, stretching Oliver’s hunting skills and Barry’s medical ones.

Even though they’ve both found something that they’re good at and want to practice further, Chiron forces them to keep up with all the training. Even if it means an exhausted Barry struggling to keep a bow in place and somehow hitting Chiron (who was behind him!) and if it means Oliver just accidentally killed his fake patient by giving him a poison instead of an herb.

It’s tough but together they endure it. They’re bond deepens until the word ‘friends’ can’t describe it. It’s more than that. They’re partners – they have each other’s backs, they understand the other without having to say a word. A connection like this, Chiron muses as he observes the boys (men – Oliver has just turned eighteen), it is something precious and rare and he hopes that the terrors of the future will not ruin that.

There’s a prophecy, you see, that Thetis revealed to Chiron a few months back. Oliver has two fates: to gain glory and die young or live a long and uneventful life of obscurity. Chiron barely had to take one look at the man and know which Oliver would choose. It isn’t that Oliver craves glory, but that he seeks to save his city. And Barry, Chiron is sure, will follow Oliver in a heartbeat wherever the man went. Regardless, they would both find themselves on a battlefield.

So when the announcement reaches the hills of Mount Pelion, Chiron doesn’t hide it from either of them.

“This is from King Menelaus?” Barry confirms brows furrowed in thought, though he knows that this is primarily Oliver’s decision.

“King Agamemnon of Greece, actually,” Oliver corrects distractedly, skimming the paper Chiron had passed to him, “Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped by the prince of Troy.”

Helen of Sparta. Now, there was a name Barry could remember from Robert’s stories. She is supposedly the daughter of Zeus and the most beautiful woman in the world. She had married Menelaus and now, for some reason, has been kidnapped by Paris, the younger prince of Troy. The situation itself seemed straightforward enough. Attack Troy. Rescue Helen. Do this by recruiting the greatest heroes of their time.

Barry can tell by the light in Oliver’s eyes that he’s intrigued or more likely, that he’s already decided he wants to go. Chiron had told Oliver in confidence about the prophecy and Oliver had of course told Barry (why did Chiron even attempt to keep it a secret he himself wasn’t sure). There was nothing more Barry wanted to do but just keep Oliver here – safe – at least for a little longer. At the time, as they rested in the comfort of Chiron’s cave upon a bed of emerald moss, the thought of war had seemed so distant.

“I’m going.” Oliver declares, leaving no room for argument, though he looks towards Barry slightly uncertainly.

Barry offers up a small smile and nods his encouragement, “I’m coming with you.” There’s an obvious relaxation in Oliver’s shoulders as he turns to retreat into the cave to pack, leaving Barry alone with Chiron.

“What troubles you, Bartholomew?” Barry supposes he shouldn’t be surprised by Chiron’s intuition or his persistent use of his full name, for that matter.

He shrugs, half-heartedly, “Is there any other way we can protect him?” he asks, letting a touch of desperation leak into his words, “I just-” Barry bites his lip, “I don’t want to lose him so soon.”

A despondent expression decorates Chiron’s aged face, “Fate has a funny way of working out…” he hesitates, “there is one way he can be better protected. But you should be warned it is a risky move for him.”

Barry swallows the lump in his throat but nods, waiting for Chiron to continue. To his surprise, he calls Oliver back. Barry looks at the centaur questioningly but is ignored.

“There is one more task I need you to fulfill.” Chiron instructs, “If you want to survive longer in this war, you need to bathe in the River Styx.”

Both pairs of eyes widen. “I thought the Styx was a myth.” Oliver states, questioningly, “Would I really become invincible?”

Chiron gives them both one of those I know all looks that they’ve grown accustomed to. “Maybe in a couple of millennial, people will think you’re myths,” his eyes sparkle for a moment but darken once again as he continues, “It will be a difficult journey. That you’ll have to take alone.”

Almost immediately, the men’s eyes jump to each other as they exchange a silent conversation until they reach an agreement. It’s almost amusing how they seem to instantly jump to each other for support, Chiron marvels; it has been a while since he has seen a love so strong.

“I’ll do it.” And with those three words, Oliver seals his fate.

Barry has to wait at Mount Pelion. It’s an agonising wait, especially since he doesn’t know whether Oliver is alive. He finds himself fretting about the man day and night. It’s almost like it physically pains him to be away from Oliver. He figures out early on the real reason why Oliver has to carry out the quest alone.

“You separated us on purpose, didn’t you?” Barry accuses Chiron on the cliff outside his cave, sounding more resigned than angry.

The wise centaur shrugs, facing the overlooking lake, “Why exactly would you think that?”

“Because we rely on each other too much. We’re too close?” Barry’s not entirely sure what the reason is, “Together we’re weak?”

At this suggestion, Chiron turns sharply towards Barry, “That is entirely false. I believe that together you are both stronger.”

He leans closer, his beard almost tickling Barry’s face “I also believe that you two have a loyalty towards each other that – if left uncontrolled – could lead either of you with a tough choice: to save the world or Oliver.”

Without sparing Barry an answer, the centaur gallops down the mountain and into the greens below. Logically, Barry knows he should save the world. That’s what a hero does after all. But in his heart, he realises that he would do anything to save Oliver even if it did mean bringing the world down in his wake.

He also realises that he loves Oliver. It’s a fierce love that Barry had never nurtured before but he had brushed it aside, thinking it may have just been a childhood crush. They had kissed and touched each other a few times whilst they were at Mount Pelion (usually when Chiron abandoned them for the night – it kept them warm!). Nothing more than that and although the feeling left both of them warm and buzzing with the heated touch of the other, it had never developed into something deeper.

Presumably, their love wasn’t just about the physical aspect. It was obvious in the way they move closer together when they were uncertain and confide everything in each other. It was obvious in the way they looked at each other when the other wasn’t looking and how they’re minds always jumped first to the protection of the other.

Barry doesn’t need to wonder if Oliver loves him. He knows that he does – it’s just that maybe Oliver hasn’t realised it yet. And even if he does, neither of them will know where to go from there. Although not frowned upon, most couples in Greece were of a different sex – and that was mainly for childbirth. If Oliver had been any other man in the city, it would not matter that he doesn’t have children. But as a prince, the eldest and only son of Robert no less, it was absolutely essential for him to bear a son to be the next in line to the throne.

He forces the thoughts out of his mind. There is no use in worrying about something that may not even happen, especially with the war coming up and the fact that Oliver still isn’t back yet.

Oliver returns a few days later, his strides are more confident and Barry can almost see a certain aura around him that screams powerful demigod. Yet, there’s a slight darkness to his eyes, a weight on his shoulders dragging him back. When he sees Barry though, his eyes brighten and he breaks into a jog towards the other man. Barry, grateful to every god and goddess that Oliver is alive, is already running towards Oliver for a very much longed for hug.

He gets something better.

Barry barely has his arms around Oliver when the stronger man picks him up so Barry ends up straddling Oliver, his legs wrapped around Oliver’s waist, he’s pressed up against his bare chest and his face is only a few inches apart.

“What was that–” He’s cut off as Oliver’s lips crash into his – it’s a desperate, hungry kiss mixed with blood and salt. A kiss more passionate than either of them had ever shared.

When they finally pull away from each other, lips red and swollen, Barry’s hazel-green eyes stare into Oliver’s a question evident.

“I’ll tell you later,” Oliver promises, “I just know that…I don’t want you to leave my side.” He mumbles, letting Barry slide down and pressing a kiss to the younger man’s forehead.

A flush spreads across Barry’s face, coupled with a smile, “I’d never leave your side, Ollie.” It’s not the first time Barry’s used that nickname and yet it sets Oliver’s heart on fire because it’s the first time it means something more.

Later doesn’t seem to come. As the two pack their sacks with their sparse belongings and some food for the journey, Oliver seems to delve into a spot of quiet consideration. Barry chooses not to push, trusting that Oliver will tell him when he wanted to, but worries silently by his side, hoping that no matter what happened, they would face it together.

When they reach Troy, the war has already gone on for five months and is in full chaos. There’s no way to tell which side is winning – there are high casualty counts on both. They’d like to believe that the Greeks are at an advantage with great heroes to help them like Heracles and Odysseus. And now, Oliver.

Barry feels like it’s obvious when Oliver joins the war. Even without prior experience, Oliver seems so…at ease with war. He makes fighting seem like a mesmerizing hacking art. His spear moves faster than the eye can follow, never stopping, ever-changing. It whirls, flashing forward, reverses, then flashes behind. On the battlefield, it is Oliver who leads men into victory, even though he is not the commander. It is Oliver who slays more of the Trojans than all the other Greeks do in total. He seems to be an unstoppable force and the Greeks love him for it.

They shower him in praises at the campsite; raise him on their shields as they return from their most recently won battle. The tent that Oliver shares with Barry soon becomes crowded with loot and other spoils of war. Everyone wants to talk to the greatest demigod of the ages.

Oliver, whilst civil in front of the soldiers, seeks solace after every battle with Barry. They keep their relationship quiet, sneaking kisses between battles and stealing touches every time their paths crossed. As the Greeks slept through the night, Barry and Oliver would bask in each other’s warmth, savouring each and every short moment they could share together.

At first, Barry is uncomfortable at the prospect of war, hesitant because there must be another way rather than killing. He had brought the worry up to Oliver once and the man had looked at him strangely. There is no other way, he’d said, not unkindly, he kidnapped a king’s wife. Oliver hadn’t laughed at him but he had been concerned and almost tried to stop Barry from going on the battlefield – worried that it would be too much for him to handle.

It took a lot in Barry not to snap back that he could handle himself. He may not be the most skilled, but gods help him if he sits by in Oliver’s tent as every other man goes out and fights for his country.

The war stretches on longer than they expect. What starts out as a couple of months turns into a year, which extends even longer to six years. There are heavy losses on both sides and yet neither side appears to give. At this point, Barry wonders if anyone actually knows what the Greeks had started out fighting for. If they still remembered Helen of Sparta who could be locked away in her ivory tower, watching as men still fought and died for her. It must be a difficult existence.

Barry spends his time either on the battle, barely scraping death, or in the Greeks’ temporary medical bay of the day. He does admit he likes it there more than he ever did on the battlefield. Here, he heals people with the skills Chiron taught him. He learns their names, faces and of their families back at home and listens to how much they misses them. This war has gone too long, men would often complain after thanking Barry, I just want to go home.

Home…Barry muses. Unlike these men, he has no connections outside of the battlefield. Yes, he misses Mount Pelion with its groves and rivers and Chiron always watching. But for him, home was wherever Oliver was.

Their relationship was still going strong over the course of six years. It was difficult to keep the façade, especially when King Menelaus keeps questioning why Oliver won’t take a slave girl for his pleasure when Oliver seems to capture so many of them. It wasn’t just because of Barry that Oliver wouldn’t keep the slaves.

He’d confided in Barry one night, “I feel powerful on the field…like I can do anything. But every life I take…I feel like I’m trading away…little pieces of myself…everything that makes me good.” He had hesitated as Barry squeezed his hand encouragingly, “I thought, if I didn’t keep the slaves…at least they wouldn’t have to look at the face that captured them in the first place.”

Barry had nodded in understanding, and drew the man into a kiss and capturing his cheeks with his hands as he pulled away. “You have nothing to compensate for,” he’d said, “You would not have come out the other side of this as a hero, if you didn’t have a light inside of you.”

The words had brought tears to Oliver’s eyes as he had let the younger man draw him close and rested in his protection.

A few weeks later, Oliver brings a girl to their tent. She’s dark-skinned with brown wavy hair and chocolate eyes. Barry and Oliver can barely communicate with her, only just getting across their names and receiving hers in turn – Iris.

Even with the communication barrier, Iris is incredibly talented with healing, making her useful in the med bay. As they treat the men, Barry manages to teach her little pieces of Greek and in turn she teaches him Latin, making it so that they could have basic conversations with each other.

They grow close. It’s a nice feeling to have an actual friend to talk to. They talk about anything they can, heavily avoiding the topic of war (to be fair it’s not in either of their vocabulary). Only after Oliver storms out of the tent upon seeing Barry and Iris laughing together does Iris bring it up.

“Oliver…uh…upset? Why?” She asks in her broken Greek though Barry gets the gist of her sentence even before she has to ask.

He hesitates for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, “I- He might be…jealous?” He tests the word, meeting her eyes to convey his message. He’s fairly sure she doesn’t understand the actual word but she already knows why Oliver’s upset.

“You two are…happy.” She states, smiling widely at him, “I go.” She points to the tent flap, as Barry stands up frantically, waving his hands in a panic.

Laughing at his concern that he’d hurt her feelings she puts her hands out to pacify him, “I help.” she punctuates her sentence with a wink, leaving Barry in a state of realisation as she leaves him alone in the tent.

Sure enough, Oliver returns seconds later, simmering with barely controlled rage.

“Ollie, what’s wrong?” Barry asks, concern colouring his tone.

Oliver shakes his head, “Look, I just… I need to clarify. Are you…doing anything with that girl?”

“Iris,” Barry corrects automatically, “and no, of course not!” I love you lingers on his tongue but it just seems too soon.

Oliver bites his lip and doesn’t meet Barry’s eyes, clearly not completely at ease.

“What else happened?” Barry pushes gently.

He sighs before delving into an explanation, “King Agamemnon captured a daughter of a priestess of Apollo and refuses to give her back even though Apollo has threatened,” Oliver clenches his fist, voice hardening, “to send a plague throughout our camps. I’ve tried to reason with him – to talk some sense into him – but he refuses unless-”

He hesitates, meeting Barry’s eyes carefully, “Unless I give him Iris.”

Barry’s world seems to stop for a second, glitch and then carry on, “I’m sorry –what?”

Oliver purses his lips and drops his gaze, nodding once more.

“No. No.” Barry repeats, coming up close to Oliver, “you can’t do this. There has to be something- ”

“There isn’t anything!” Oliver all but shouts in his face. Barry stares at him for a moment stunned as Oliver closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “The plague is already spreading. Soldiers are getting sick. They’re going to the medical tent. That’s where you are.”

He swallows and raises his eyes to the roof of the tent, closing them and then looking Barry straight in the eyes, “I can’t – I don’t want you to get infected.” Oliver’s eyes are glistening now and Barry understands now, why Oliver wants to do what he’s going to do.

“Look, the king promised he wouldn’t harm her and I just thought…”

Barry nods as Oliver pulls him into an embrace, “I understand…just let me talk to her.”

The conversation with Iris is a quick but tearful one. They convey their goodbyes in long hugs and he wishes her luck as Oliver takes her away to King Agamemnon.

Barry hoped everything would have been resolved in that moment. His heart plunges when Oliver strides back in to the tent and sits himself on their bed, fuming in quiet rage. Barry doesn’t ask questions this time. Instead he waits for Oliver to open up to him. There’s a long almost suffocating silence in the tent.

“I’m not fighting anymore.” Oliver states, his voice quiet and even. The proclamation startles Barry out of his spot on the cushions.

“What do you mean – What? Why?” Barry splutters. He can’t be serious. The Greeks – we – can’t win without him.

Oliver shakes his head stiffly, “Agamemnon – the king – he’s taken my honour.”

“You’re going to let the Greeks lose because the king wounded your pride?” Barry demands, infuriated. This is absolutely ridiculous.

“The Greeks aren’t going to lose.” Oliver growls, “He’s ruined my reputation! Everything I’ve built up over the years is overlooked now because he took my slave from me unwillingly!”

“You’re reputation?” Barry questions incredulously, “Oliver, you can easily get that back up within a battle. Nothing has been taken away from you! And Iris, she isn’t some object to be tossed around! She’s a person!”

“You can’t just abandon us because of something as petty as this. We need you.”

“When did it change from ‘the Greeks’ to ‘us’?” Oliver snaps, “When were you suddenly such a supportive member of their cause? You told me yourself: You didn’t think this was right.”

“And if you don’t help them, they’re going to die, Ollie. And you don’t want that on your conscience.” Barry’s voice breaks slightly as he stares into his lover’s beautiful, broken blue eyes. He can tell he’s gotten through to Oliver because of the flicker of regret that dances across his eyes.

A horn sounds in the distance – the signal for a battle about to come.

The two of them stare each other down in the doorway of the tent, Barry urging Oliver to go and Oliver wanting to go but hesitating to nurse his pride. Sighing Barry gathers Oliver’s armour.

“Just this once, I’ll go out in your armour,” he compromises, not letting Oliver speak, “we can’t let them lose any of the battles when we’re so close to defeating the Trojans.”

“Hopefully, just seeing your armour alone will scare people away.” Barry shrugs, “Even then, I should have enough skill to manage myself.”

Oliver looks doubtful at the idea, concern written across his face and yet, still too stubborn to take up the armour himself. One day, Barry swore, Oliver’s pride would be his downfall.

“I’ll lead them well,” Barry reassures Oliver, adjusting the straps of armour to fit him a bit better.

“I know you will.” Oliver murmurs, pulling the man into a final kiss before he left. It’s a soft and quick kiss before Barry moves away, smiling at his best friend and lover.

“Come back to me,” he pleads, “As soon as you beat the Trojans back to their ships bring the armour back and I’ll take over.”

“I’ll do whatever I have to.” Barry promises.

He takes to commanding with a surprising amount of ease. With people already believing he was Oliver, it isn’t difficult to have the sway he needs to convince them to attack. Though his technique is not as swift as Oliver’s, Barry is able to disarm and injure many of the Trojan army. He understands now, why Oliver is so involved in fighting. There’s a tiny taste of power every time a man falls, coupled with a bitter taste in his mouth that quickly diminishes the euphoria. It does give him that tiny boost of confidence, though.

Barry had been involved in enough battle plans to know a good strategy and he managed to push the Trojans back almost, dare he say it, easily. It makes a further attack all too tempting.

In a split second decision, he continues the fight, leading the Greeks towards the already weakened Trojans in an attack that Barry is almost sure they can win. He knows he’s smart enough to pull it off.

As they’re charging to attack, Barry stops suddenly. His mind completely blank – wiped clean – so that he can’t even remember what he’s doing, he doesn’t even know what he’s doing. A single name sits on his lips as he tries to shake off the disorientation and remember what he is doing. It’s important. It’s a mission. I was doing it for…for… the Greeks no…for Oliver.

And it’s with Oliver’s name that the disorientation clears and his wits return to him. Barry can barely understand what just happens but he doesn’t have time. He needs to find Oliver and –

a sharp pain blossoms from the middle of his stomach. He clutches blindly at the shaft of a spear, searching for the end of it until – oh – it’s inside him. Barry stumbles backwards, for a battlefield it’s surprisingly empty until he realises he’s no longer on the field.

He must have chased the man – Hector, prince of Troy – around the walls unknowingly. But how did that happen? Surely, Barry couldn’t have been stupid enough – the gods. A god must have cursed him – taken his wits in that moment – weakened him so that Hector could finish him off.

Barry is no longer wearing Oliver’s armour. Hector must have taken it before he retreated. “Oliver,” he mumbles half-deliriously, “I need to get the armour to him.” A face hovers over his, blue-eyes but Not Oliver because this man does not have the same chiseled jaw as Oliver. Voices are swimming in his head, blending together so they don’t make sense.

There’s just one voice he wants to hear. “Oliver.”

The man, King Menelaus, protecting his body nods and in a moment of clarity Barry hears, “I’ve sent someone to get him.”

His body relaxes in relief. Oliver is coming.

The spear sends a last pulsing, shuddering throb throughout his body. Barry’s eyes close. A final, trembling breath leaves his lips. And then, as Oliver sprints across the field calling Barry’s name, Barry lets go.

In the midst of the blood and war and shouts, Oliver mourns.

He had run straight into the midst of all the chaos with only one man in mind – Barry. He finds him soon enough or rather his body, protected by King Menelaus and Ajax. Barry is laying so incredibly still, a spear buried in his stomach, a small pool of coppery blood watering the ground beneath him.

He gathers the man up in his arms. He’s so cold – nothing like the warmth Barry radiates the moment he steps into a room. It’s so rare to see Barry still – there had barely been a moment where the boy hadn’t been moving. He was always fidgeting with something or other or even when he was standing still… it felt like he was flittering.

It’s not a quiet mourning. Oliver sobs openly – gut wrenching sounds that mix seamlessly with the cries of war. He cradles a man, limp and cold, against his gold-plated chest, staring into his unseeing eyes and shouting at him – pleading with him – to wake up, please, I’m sorry, Barry please, I can’t do this without you. Barry. He prays to his mother, Thetis, and to Hermes, a god who favoured the young man Oliver held and yet there is silence.

The gods are busy. Or they don’t care.

If anyone paid closer attention to the greatest demigod of the ages, they’d be surprised. Why this desperate grief? Why mourn a man with such a shocking intensity? Whose death must it have been to undo the mighty Oliver?

Oliver would argue that Barry was no ordinary soldier. He was not a minor character. He was not a figure in the backgrounds, hidden by Oliver’s shadow. He was compassionate and loyal with a courageous and gentle heart who deserved better than what life threw at him.

He was Oliver’s whole world. His anchor.

Barry. He’s crying now, choking on his grief, tears mingling with the sweat on his face and dampening Barry’s tunic as he holds the man closer to his heart.

Barry was more than a lover. He was Oliver’s best friend and closest confidant. They were partners who held each other on a special level of trust. Barry had been the first person he had thought of when

the nymph of the river Styx had said, “You need a mortal point.”

“A what?” Oliver had asked. A mortal point for an invincible body? That sounded ridiculous.

Styx, had calmly uncreased the folds in her dress, sighing as though she had heard this kind of incredulity all before. “You need to stay anchored to your mortal life.”

When she’s met with even more confusion she rolls her eyes, “Imagine a spot on your body that will remain vulnerable. This is where your soul will anchor your body to the world. If you lose sight of what keeps you mortal, the River Styx will burn you to ashes. And you will cease to exist.”

Oliver had stared at her for a moment and then at the river. Thinking carefully before he chose, he concentrated on a small spot under his left armpit. It was unlikely that anyone would aim a weapon there and, with armour, it would be relatively well protected.

Closing his eyes to brace himself, he imagined a string like a bungee cord connecting him to the riverbank. Without thinking, he jumps.

It’s a terrifying moment when everything burns and he can’t control his muscles. Every nerve was dissolving, screaming in pain. This was one of his first real battles. And he was already losing.

Oliver could feel his soul literally burning away, being ripped from his body. His hands and feet felt like they were melting into the river. He wanted to give up.

But he couldn’t.

“Oliver! The cord!” Oliver could hear a voice through the murky water, “Remember your lifeline.”

Oliver focused on the cord, imagining it thicker and stronger, ignoring the pain and the oh gods, what’s my name. He felt a tug through the cord and looked up.

Barry stood on the bank, smiling down at Oliver, “Hold on, Ollie! I’ll give you a hand.”

Barry’s voice was clearer now. Oliver could feel himself stop dissolving.

“Come on,” Barry says, a light in those beautiful hazel-green eyes, “Take my hand.”

Memories came rushing back, sharper and clearer than before. Memories of him with Barry in the palace in Starling, plotting to escape together, tasting the sweet fruits of the forest Chiron offered. The current stopped pushing him down. His name was Oliver. He reached up and took Barry’s hand.

He had emerged from the river, gasping and spluttering, scanning the area for Barry even though Oliver knew he shouldn’t be there. It had seemed so real. No one was there but Styx, relaxing on a rock, looking only mildly impressed that he’d survived.

The pain had subsided. He wasn’t sure if it had worked but…at least he was alive.

“Thank you, Lady Styx.” Oliver bows, not entirely sure how to treat a river nymph.

Styx shrugs indifferently, “You’ve just committed yourself to a lifetime or hardships.” She hops off the rock and rises to his height. “I’ll give you a piece of advice though.”

“Whoever you saw…whoever pulled you out? He is your real lifeline. You have to protect him because without him, you’ll lose all sense of mortality. It won’t be a fast process but his death will weaken you. Do not, under any circumstances,

lose Barry. Oliver had lost Barry.

Barry, who on his journey back, Oliver had realised he loved with a burning passion.

Barry who only wanted the best for everyone.

Barry who Oliver had tried so hard to protect just for his arrogance to get in the way and now…

Barry was gone.

[sylvansmercy]

the shannara chronicles season two prompts: part three

episode five & episode six [+]  —  feel free to adjust wording, pronouns, etc. 

2x05: “PARANOR”

"This is where we part ways." "You don't need me." "Maybe when I finish doing what I gotta do, I'll try and find you." "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me." "What's our plan once we get in there?" "The less I tell you, the safer we are." "I don't like being kept in the dark." "Then we must trust each other." "Doesn't sound like the time to be winging it." "You just said that we have to trust each other!" "It is too dangerous to have you with us." "You still think that I'm plotting against you, admit it!" "Wouldn't it be better to go in as a team?" "I mourn with you." "They will burn for this." "If you're going after them, I want to help." "This isn't some scavenger hunt, this is war." "I know this kingdom like the back of my hand. I can root out its traitors." "I've been lying to her since I learned to talk." "I should've known you'd make an appearance." "What has you rushing back to me after all these years?" "Enough! We have more pressing matters." "I assume there's a point to this history lesson?" "If you wanna know if I made a deal to save my people, then the answer is yes." "I won't apologize for protecting my people." "In your effort to save your kingdom, you have doomed us all." "You shouldn't have come." "You look tired." "I'm tired of your games, but not too tired to end this." "How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?" "Well, it appears your intentions are true." "I've done everything you asked! Everything!" "If you do this, there'll be no turning back." "So, you were in on this? That bickering outside, that was just for show?" "Wait, don't say it. You were trying to protect me." "I was hoping you could start over. Build a life that wasn't defined by your parents' mistakes." "I was naive. After all these years, I should've known better." "Tell me the truth. Now." "I will always love you, [name]." "I promised her that I would protect you." "She convinced me that you could just as easily be a force for good as for evil, and she was right." "When you said that the truth would bring me pain, is this what you meant?" "All my life I've had to break free from people who tried to control me, and now you're saying I may not have a choice?" "How can I believe you after all your lies?" "Lower your weapon, boy." "This prison was designed for beings much stronger than you." "Now he's just a pawn to you, isn't he? Another sacrifice for the greater good." "There is nothing you can do for him now." "I swear I wasn't trying to trick you." "I can still save you." "Do not be fooled. He is trying to manipulate you." "Don't put me in the middle of this!" "You showed up because you have a part to play." "The only way to fight the darkness is to condition yourself." "Your training starts now." "You asked for the truth; you need to face it." "It's like I can feel it trying to get inside my head." "Control it. Don't let it control you." "That didn't seem very hard." "Don't get cocky. That was a good first step, but you need to keep practicing." "The darkness in me. When I used it to control that thing, I kind of liked it." "Ready to find out who you are?" "Whatever this thing is, I think it worked." "I'm sorry it's been so long." "I wasn't sure if you were ever coming back." "No amount of gold will bring him back, I know that." "What did you do?" "I got no fear of death!" "Death is too good for you." "Stay away from me. You're cursed." "Don't ever come back here." "I sensed a deep well of pain in her." "I think mine's bigger." "I thought they were gonna stick me like a roast pig." "How does stale bread and cheese sound?" "The past is the past. We can't change it." "We all want the same things. To live free, without fear." "I may be a bounty hunter, but cash isn't the only language I speak." "We appreciate your help, but you should leave." "Oh, I'm not going anywhere." "We're not together, we're just friends." "I think you should tell him. What's the worst thing that could happen?" "To some people you may be a pain in the ass, but I'm pretty sure I'd miss you." "How did you find me here?" "What if they're right about me? What if I am bad for them?" "Listen, you're not crazy and you're not dreaming." "I've seen these creatures too." "You're having visions of the future, of what's coming." "I know you have questions, but we have to move."

2x06: “CRIMSON”

"If I don't make it, there's something I want you to know." "That was not a choice for you or I to make." "Some are born for sacrifice." "All you have ever brought my family is misery and heartbreak." "I pray that you are not the last thing I see before I leave this world." "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." "There's a darkness coming, and you have to be ready for it." "I can't defend anything! I can't even defend myself." "I am most definitely not a hero." "I've never told anyone that." "I need your help. Someone's life depends on it." "What if I'm not ready?" "I've learned that fate waits for no man." "I'm gonna let that part be a surprise." "What is it that they want?" "They want you dead." "The only way to stop her is to make her believe she's getting what she wants." "If we do this, we have to be friends and partners. No secrets. No lies." "I would never help him. You know that!" "Your power makes you an integral part of what's going to unfold." "The greatest battle you'll face is within you." "It's the perfect hiding spot." "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?" "It's time to end this." "If they don't come back, we're both gonna die here." "How tragic is that?" "It's not too late. You are yet to cross the threshold into darkness. You can still be saved." "That is a decision you will live to regret." "It's not like you to give up so easily." "You look older. Weaker. Time itself has begun to consume you." "I knew something was different." "You're dying, aren't you?" "It needs to be perfect." "This is all wrong. Start over." "I know what happens to people that keep you waiting. I'd like to stay pretty." "What exactly was his usefulness?" "You've really lowered your standards." "Consider him dead." "Save the speech. There's nothing you can say that'll change the outcome here." "I'm sorry I got upset. The thought of losing you just sent me over the edge." "Can you please forgive me?" "This wasn't supposed to happen." "He's lost a lot of blood." "It's a miracle." "I will never forget what you've done for us." "I'm going to enjoy this. Any last words?" "Wow. Remind me never to piss you off." "I'm a bounty hunter. Finding people is what I do." "Ego's a bit bruised, but I'll live." "You don't have to thank me, I'm just glad I was here to help." "I wish you didn't have to go so soon. I feel like I'm just starting to get to know you." "You're a terrible liar." "Don't sell yourself short." "And so it begins." "It's so good to see your face." "I only want what I came for." "Double cross me, and I'll kill you." "You don't have to do this. It's not too late." "Pretty soon not even I will be able to save him." "Impressive. Your magic is strong." "Last chance! What do you choose?" "You did everything you could." "How many times do I have to tell you? Stay out of my mind." "This is not only your truth. It will affect all of us." "What you saw in that was important." "Shall we begin?" "Your reign of terror ends today."

[what-ever-happened-to-chip]

Part 4: Junkie

*insert story and whole memory montage of joni and jesse's life* (I'm writing it now, but to make it complete I would have to write a lot more so i'll slowly add in some shit about it to maybe inspire the mood)

For now,

HOLY SHIT, where was I? Christian? I need a cigarette, what's wrong with my body? Who am I? "Hello Gray" A ghostly smile was plastered on Christian's pale face. "Gray.....yes I'm...Gray? What did you just do to me? Where's Jesse?" "I gave you Joni's memories and of course to see a memory the way it really was perceived, you had to had to have lived it. You just lived Joni's entire life. And in tandum, her mind is melded with her brother's so you just indeed lived Jesse's life to. They're minds melded when they were about 14 so you saw them at the same time then. However once you 'became' Jesse as well you saw all his memories too. Quite the anamoly indeed." I couldn't think straight...or I could. I felt invaded, however I had let this parasite in. No..not parasite, but my mind did not only feel like mine. I felt like 3 people. "You're fucked up, i gotta go..." I knocked the chair over getting up and bee lined to the door. "Oh, but you'll be back" he warned with a sordid grin. Nothing around me looked new, but it's as if I had 3 perspectives of it, but they weren't separate. I was all of us. I was we. But I was only myself still. I understood Joni now and I wish I didn't. What was I thinking? I paced around looking at everyone with shifty eyes and desperately needing an escape? I'd never felt so trapped, but yet apathetic, but not -errr i don't know what i think. They think that. She thinks that. I think....jesus christ. What the fuck is wrong with me, i need something....I

"Oh there you are Gray, please come join us. Lana's observations have led us to discuss, why Jenn has a special hatred for our dear Yuna here." I stared at him too long and forced myselves through the motions of sitting down. "I don't believe Jenn hates me, she's much too kind for that. I know when people are in love they want to protect it and the rejection of feeling your love might be not completely genuine hurts very deeply. I don't want to make her feel that way" "Indeed so Yuna, however I think you just proved my argument right. Jenn wishes you were a bitch so she could hate you, but you make it rather impossible." Marcus grinned at her, was he flirting? I've never noticed flirting from a girl's perspective before. It made me uncomfortable. "Yeah, but you never answered why she wants to hate Yuna, I just don't get it!" lana said confused even though she had more information than anymore. "Shall you be the tie breaker Gray?" 6 sets of eyes all gazed over at him with anticipation. "Uhh...what am I voting on?" "We tryna figure out if that Jenn girl is a THOT or not!" Buddy clapped his big hands together, silently laughing at his own opinion. "Yeah me, Marcus, and obv Yuna don't think she is a bad person just.....yknow confused, but, Buddy, Rikku, and Jesse think she's a cunt... I mean bad person. yeah." I stared at Jesse and wanted to agree with him. At first glance it felt as if I was looking at a reflection. I also wanted to forgive woman? What? I guess I like Jenn....but is she a bitch? I can't stop thinking of calling her my chicka....what the fuck? What do I think. I thought I was confused before. Why do they care what I think of all times? "Oh my god! I told you that he had a crush on Jenn! See Yunie! they should totally date, he LIKES her" The room instantly grew quiet as loud stomps dominated the room. "Who the fuck has a crush on Jenn?" He scanned the room with murderous eyes. He  stared at Marcus suspiciously longer than anyone, but landed on Gray. "Uhh hey man you got that hit you owe me...you....fucker?" Why was I saying the insult like a question. I have no idea how I talk. "You best stay the fuck away from her if you don't want me to kill your unborn children" That hit my chest heart, it hurt so deeply, yet I knew he had made that joke every day this week and it just meant kicking me in the nuts. The crotch. I had never once felt ashamed of having a penis, not once in my life, until now. But i didn't think that. She did. OR he. I was was having a very hard time finding deciding what 'I' thought. "Not if I do it first!" I yelled out impulsively. Is that what Jesse would say? That's so lame. Laughter burst out throught the room. I felt even more shame and wanted to say another self depricating joke just to get through it. I also wanted a drink reaaaaaally bad. Aiden looked even more suspicious at me. "Fuck you guys I got better shit to do" and with that I scurried away. As days went by I knew I was Gray again. I couldn't tell Joni what I did and she seemed none the wiser of my quiet acceptance of her. Jesse seemed more suspicious, but I knew now that his jokes most of the time were desperate paranoia to be in touch. I thought he was just a joker, but the new found knowledge I had made that simplification of him impossible. Like the lonely intimacy junkie I was I couldn't help it, but to want to see more lives now.   Once again I was in the same position in Christians room, this time I sat across from him knee to knee with my palms up. He suggested since he had seen everyone's life that I should start with Yuna. How it felt to have to send Tidus for the 'greater good'. It seemed nice to think about it in a positive way and I was right. When I came back from Yuna's memories I had known pain, loss, and sorrow, but no matter what I had enjoyed everyone moment of life. She truly cherished every experience and every chance she had to be alive. She looked back on all her memories fondly because she got to live them. I was fine feeling the glow of Yuna's mind, but as with any high it wore off and I wanted more. Our sessions became more or less weekly as I let him shape me around the perspective of the comrades around me. Things got darker with Zack, but the integrity I felt and pride in my position made it all worth it. SOLDIER was my (his) life, yet it betrayed, used, and lied to him. It didn't matter what the organization had become SOLDIER was a code he took and vowed to keep to the end. To protect and serve mankind. To be a hero. I felt similarities in Rinoa's fighting spirit and the belief I had in myself with all her decisions. She really did like herself. She would think she was wrong for almost a split second and quickly decide she was right. It wasn't even her fault she had that big of an ego, she was taught to, yet despite it she rebelled for what she thought was right. Roxas proved to be more lonely, the loss of identity and the questioning of your own reality. With is, I saw Sora's too. The metaness of seeing memories through memories was not lost on me and added to a long state of confusion, when I became Gray again. The adventures of Zidane's rogue lifestyle, let me explore the world, feel things deeply, enjoy any piece of life you had, yet have the heart to mourn for important things and fight for truth. I now knew the appeal of cocaine for a performer. Marcus for the entirety of his life was utterly and completely pleased with himself. He hardly ever felt lonely, scared,  or unsure, not in any existential way. The guy didn't even mind being dope sick, he reveled in the extremes of being in a human. He truly did believe Aiden was the most fascinating person he had ever met. He died almost as an inside joke to himself. Christian and I exchanged out quick goodbyes and spoke briefly of perhaps the next person he will show me. I left in a good mood. I safely made it out the door...or so I thought. Aiden burst out from down the hall and grabbed my arm and leaned in close to my face. He stared into my eyes long and hard in a way that made me feel terribly vulnerable. "So you went and saw Christian today?" "What do you mean? I mean yeah...I was looking for you man, back off what the fuck do you care?" "I think your a fucking idiot, but your life" "You hang out with him all the time so who are you to talk?" "yeah but what I do with bitch boy is a whole fucking other game to what you're trying to get off on. Dont' you see?! He'll give you sum chumps memories, all fun and games, but then he'll get bored. And by then you're probably hooked so he can stick his greasy fingers in you head and do whatever he wants. I'm sure he gave you Yuna's huh? How was being the happiest person ever? Or Aang? I bet that zen buddhist shit was real comforable. but just wait  and then he'll give you something shitty ones like Tidus's. Ever thought about what a schitzophernic's brain looks like? Well i'll tell you what, it looks the same. From his point of view his life looked just as normal's as any fucker as boring as Jerry's" "Jerry?" "The dude my mom fucked. Oh you'll find out soon the way you're going. But you know what? When you get to be Gray again and know that you just lived the life of a crazy dude and no one believed you even though he or YOU knew you weren't crazy. Well jokes on you, turns out you were. You'll never forget understanding that fucker. Or maybe Gaara might be a blast. 12 years of complete anguish and loneliness, the pain, the need...the need....." He closed his eyes and started rocking back and forth, grabbing at his hair and scratching his temples. He was starting to sound pretty nuts, which didn't bother me usually, but this time I was terrified. Terrified, because for the first time since i've known the guy his paranoid, weirdo,  bullshit that I always wrote off as crazy, was now starting to make sense to me. "I dont' give a fuck if you fuck up your life holding hands with faggot boy, but I won't have you get in the way of mine. You think Christian's a saint? A fucking weird, but thoughtful guy that helps you understand your friends and gets Aiden get his memories he forgot back?" The more he started saying his own name like it was a strangers, the tenseness in the atmosphere grew. I wanted him to stop talking, I didn't want him to do anything to risk what I wanted to keep doing, but if he disillusioned me how could I continue? " Yeah fucking right. Sure he'll give him back his memories (the him being Aiden himself), but not after he jumbles a bunch of random people's realites in there with them and have me guess which ones are mine. But I don't have to guess, I know the ones that are mine. Because they are the worst thing some one could ever do. If any of those good memories were mine, I wouldn't have forgotten them." Maybe Joni was wrong, if he goes through that every day he must be trying to make things right. Forgetting might be easier, but he takes the bad to have the good. "But if I see everyone's memories. I did everything. Meaning I did nothing. I don't know what bad things I did, so how's any of it my fault. Anyone's memory looks the same as mine. Aiden's memories are his fault. I didn't do them. All i know is what I know. Nothing. Everything. I'm no one but who I want to be. I just want one thing. But i can't have that one memory, I need all of them or else I am what I did. And I won't be him. I won't." Holy shit Joni was right, he's totally checked out. Pretending he isn't his own reality. I pondered about how delusional Jenn was about him. Was that her naturally or did Christian doctor her mind for the benefit of his friend. She's alive right so it doesn't matter he killed her? That's insane. It's all fucked up. I never wanted to think about these things in so much detail. "I got it dude, i'm done" He smiled for a second than decided to take the more stoic route and with dead eyes mutterred, "It will never be done" With that he pulled his jacket tight to his body as if giving himself a hug and stormed off.

[fernandidilly-yo]

Does anybody else ever think about the fact that Peter Parker probably doesn’t expect to live past his mid-thirties?!

And he would just accept it too. Like one day he thought, “logically it is probably correct to assume one of my rogues will get the upper hand and kill me. I’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

And this boy just kind of lives life with this fact from now on???? It becomes a background thought, something that he knows he can’t change, so he doesn’t really worry about it.

I’m not saying Peter would be actively trying to die, but he would just always have the thought that is could be soon, it could be tomorrow. You never really know in his line of ‘work’.  

So he just never plans to get married, never thinks about having kids, because in his opinion he’ll be lucky to finish college.

And I doubt he would even realize how morbid that kind of mindset is. Really at this point, it doesn’t really bother Peter. He’s just like- “I mean I’ll try to prevent it, but there is only so much I can do.”

And I imagine that after a few comments his friends would start to catch on.

Like one day Johnny and Peter were baking in the Baxter building (okay, Johnny was doing the baking, Peter was doing the eating) and they are talking about what careers they would like to pursue, and Peter makes an off-handed comment about how whatever he does, he needs to make sure to leave Aunt May with enough money to support herself.

And Johnny’s all, “you mean to help support her, like when she can’t work anymore?” because that is not what it sounded like Peter’s meant at all, and Johnny’s gut is twisting inside of him.

And Peter looks like a deer caught in the headlights as he chokes on his cookie, “oh yeah, that’s what I mean. Yup. Y’know Flame Brain these are great cookies, top notch!”

And Johnny lets him deflect, but he makes it a point to listen for anything else that sounds like that. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit.

Or one day Peter is complaining to MJ and he says something about having a midlife crisis, and Mary Jane laughs and says “you can’t have a midlife crisis Pete, your 17.”

And Peter scoffs and says, “yeah, ‘mid-life crisis’, you have to be at the middle mark of your life, duh.” Before doing a double take and stuttering an “oh! Ha! Yup, you’re right hahah!” 

But it sticks with MJ. And now those innocent comments about having a mid-life crisis don’t seem so innocent anymore. 

Or one time when Gwen and Peter were on his roof trying to catch sight of any stars, and she was talking about her plans after college, how she wanted to leave the US and see the world before getting married. 

And Peter listened intently, but when she asks him about his own plans, he just kind of mumbled something about wanting to do anything with science. But other than that he just stays kind of quiet. 

And Gwen gets this nagging feeling that that means more than what it seems.

And I feel that the three friends would have a meeting about Peter, and just come to this realization that Peter doesn’t expect to live to 40, and it just breaks their hearts, but they don’t know what to do about it, they don’t know how to fix it. 

And it would be so much worse if it did happen too. 

Maybe they make it to 21/22yo, Peter has one year of college left, Gwen is planning a trip to Europe for the Summer, MJ just signed with an acting agency, and Johnny and Peter have an apartment together, and life is looking good, no one expects it to happen, because why would they? They are just getting started with life, they are young and happy, why would they think this would happen? 

And ‘boom’- the Fantastic Four were off planet and the Avengers were across the world, the Sinister Six attack the city and unmask Spider-Man on live TV and that’s it.

No one was there, no one was there to save Peter, and now he’s gone.

-New York is stunned and shocked, left to mourn their hero.  -The News is blowing up with the footage of the public execution of the once beloved Spider-Man AKA Peter Parker. -Aunt May is heartbroken, but so proud, so proud of her son.  -Johnny blames himself, can’t help be wonder if he could have stopped it if he was there.  -MJ leaves, can’t stand to be in NY anymore, not without Peter being there too.  -Gwen is at a lost, feeling broken and unwhole without Peter. 

But at the same time, how can they be surprised? Peter knew it would happen, had made his peace with it. And if he saw it was coming, had expected it, how could they not have?

[super-mario-girl]

I Know Places, a Super Mario fanfic

Summary: When Bowser somehow manages to defeat the Mario Brothers, Peach is heartbroken. Rather than face an unhappy marriage with Bowser, she runs away from the Castle. Lost and alone, she receives help from an unlikely source.

Pairing: Peach X King Boo(yes, you read that correctly)

Warnings: Humanized AU, Crack Ship, Mentioned Character Death, Very Long One Shot

Peach ran as fast as she could. She couldn't take it anymore, she had enough.

It had happened just six months ago, the event that changed her life forever. She had seen the whole tragedy occur before her very eyes. She still couldn't believe that Bowser would ever defeat them. But he did, and they were gone.

She also remembered the night after it happened. She cried for hours until she ran out of tears. The Kingdom declared a day of mourning for their fallen heroes. The once cheerful princess was no longer the same.

Now that the Mario Brothers had perished, Bowser was easily able to take over the Mushroom Kingdom. Every day, for the past few months, Bowser would ask the princess to marry him. And every day, she gave him the same answer: no.

Peach didn't want to live like this. She didn't want anything to do with the person who killed the man she loved and her closest friend. So one day, she decided she was going to do it. She was going to escape. She brought a few things with her: some clothes, food, some money(but not too much), and water.

She had to save herself now. If she didn't, she would be forced to marry Bowser. And in Peach's mind, a life married to that awful man would be a fate worse than death. He was rude, uncouth, and didn't really care about how she felt.

The princess was already pretty far from the castle. She had been running for at least an hour, and now she found herself in some sort of forest, with a small lake and many trees. She wasn't stupid, she knew that sooner or later, Bowser would send his soldiers to go looking for her. But surely no one would find her here, in this forest.

"I can't run anymore..." she thought, panting from exhaustion. "I need to take a break..." she slowly walked towards the lake. Looking down, she saw her reflection. Her hair was a mess, her dress was ripped, and one of her gloves was gone, but her crown was still on her head. She took the crown and looked at it for a moment, then threw it in the lake. It landed with a splash and she watched it sink to the bottom, which was satisfying to watch.

She realized if she was to escape from Bowser, she needed to make sure he didn't find her. She didn't know how long, but for now, she had to pretend she wasn't a princess. Maybe if she found a town, she could try to blend in with the townsfolk. She wasn't sure how well that would work out, though. 

After a while, it began to get dark, and the former princess was beginning to get a bit cold. The night would be harsh, especially in this time of the year. Peach decided that her ideas had to wait, now her priority was to make sure she stayed warm.

She created a small, makeshift fire pit and surrounded it with small rocks to make sure the fire wouldn't spread. Then, she gathered a pile of sticks and placed it in the middle. Taking two sticks, she tried to ignite a fire but rubbing them together quickly. 

It was without success, as she could barely make more than a spark. After several minutes, she got frustrated and gave up. By then, she was starting to grow tired, and she was still freezing. The former princess started wondering if this was a bad idea after all. 

"I can't believe I did this. This was a stupid idea..." she thought to herself. "I should have just stayed." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No. If I stayed, it would have felt like torture. I'd have to marry Bowser, it'd be unbearable." 

She felt tears going down her face. She thought about what could have been. She and Mario had been in love with each other for quite some time. He had been her knight in shining armor, or in this case, overalls and a cap. 

The worst thing was, is that Peach was planning on proposing to him. She was going to pop the question that fateful day when... the incident happened. It had been the absolute worst day of her life.

She knew that she would never see Mario again. She knew she would have to move on eventually. But it was so hard to do.

While she was crying, she felt a hand on her shoulder, which startled her. But when she looked up, no one was there. She got up and looked around. Strange, maybe her imagination was playing a trick on her. But then she felt someone tap her shoulder. She quickly turned around and-

"BOO!" someone shouted. Peach was so surprised by the sudden jumpscare that she fell back. She looked up and saw an unnaturally pale man floating above her. He wore a white outfit and a purple cape. His hair was white, he had purple eyes, and a crown on his head. He was laughing like crazy. "You should have seen your face! How priceless! It never ceases to amaze me how easily scared you mortals can be."

"That wasn't funny at all!" Peach yelled. She knew who this was. Mario and Luigi told her about him. Floating before her was none other than King Boo.

"You're right. It wasn't funny." he replied, still laughing. "It was hilarious! It always is!"

"That's not the point!" Peach exclaimed. "What are you doing here? What do you want from me?!"

King Boo stopped laughing. "Don't worry, I'm not going to cause you any harm. I saw you running from something... or someone. My, you look like you've seen better days." he told her. "Were you crying?"

"What? No I wasn't!" she defended, slightly scared.

"I saw your tears." he replied. "I'm guessing you haven't been doing well since the Marios'... departure." 

"It's been awful..." Peach sighed. "I fled the castle."

"But why would you do that?" he asked. "Tired of life as a princess?" he laughed.

"No..." she mumbled. "I just couldn't stand the idea of having to marry Bowser." Peach told him.  "So I... ran away. But maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all..."

"Maybe so. Do you have any idea what you're going to do or where you will go?"

"N-no..." Peach admitted weakly.

"I thought so. But I understand why you would want to run away. That high amount of arrogance can cause one to become unlikable." the king stated. "I wouldn't want to marry him, either. But you realize he's going to go looking for you, right?"

"You're not going to tell him I'm here, are you?" Peach asked, trying to hide her fear.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." he assured her. But Peach was still skeptical. She knew about what he had done before. The Mario Bros told her about the mansion and the Dark Moon incident. She wasn't sure if she could trust someone like him at all, let alone to keep a secret. She did feel a bit thankful that it was just King Boo and not one of Bowser's minions. "But it's getting late." he told her. "You should probably get some rest." He pulled out a blanket and put it over her.

"Thank you..." She reluctantly accepted. She wasn't sure why he was being nice to her, but she chose not to question it. She needed all the help she could get. But this was quite strange for an evil king like him.

"I would leave as soon as you wake up if I were you." he advised. "If you stay here, they might find you. I also know of a town near the forest. You might be able to stay there if you blend in."

"Okay." She replied. She was still unsure. "I don't understand though, why are you being so nice to me?"

"That, princess, is a question for another day. I'm afraid I must go, but I wish you good luck... farewell." he told her as he disappeared with a "poof!"

Peach sat there for a second and thought about what just happened. Why would a scary and powerful villain be helping her anyway? Pity? She wasn't sure. He and Bowser didn't get along that well, so maybe he was helping her to spite him? Well, the important thing was that she wasn't going to freeze anymore, so she was just happy about that.

She slowly began to close her eyes, and very soon, she was fast asleep.

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

Morning came, and Peach left her spot as soon as she could. She destroyed the makeshift fire pit to cover her tracks, and she also decided to keep the blanket with her just in case she needed it for something. 

After two hours of walking through the forest, Peach eventually found a town. She had already changed into some raggedy dress so that she wouldn't stand out.

"Okay, what am I going to do now?" the former princess thought. "I won't last long on what I've got. I need a place to stay..." she continued. "I'll figure something out."

The streets weren't as kind as Peach expected. Throughout the day, she got pushed, shoved, and even kicked at one point. She blended in alright, nobody seemed to even acknowledge her presence. She started to feel terribly guilty. While she was living a lap of luxury, there were people living in horrid conditions like this? This opened her eyes, as the princess was so used to everyone having her attention. Being ignored was... a strange feeling.

She continued walking through the village. While doing so, she bumped into someone.

"Oh! I'm very sorry!" she quickly apologized and looked at who she collided with. It was an old woman, with a very stern and condescending look on her face.

"You're not from here, are you?" the woman asked.

"How did you know?"

"You apologized. The people here don't do that when they bump into someone." she replied.

"They don't?" Peach gasped. "That's rude!"

"That's just how it is here." the elderly woman told her. "Where are you from?"

"Oh, me?" she responded. "A few towns over."

"Oh, well in that case, welcome to Attleford. Where are you staying?"

"Oh, well... I'm still working on that." Peach replied.

"You mean you're homeless?" 

"Well, I guess?" 

"Do you have a job, at least?" the woman asked.

"Uh... no." she admitted. 

"Do you want one?"

"A job?" Peach asked.

"Of course. I run a motel. You can work there, and in return, I offer you a place to stay." the woman explained.

Peach thought about it. A motel? That didn't sound too bad. She had never been in a motel, but knew it was like a less expensive version of a hotel.

"I guess. I don't really have many options." Peach accepted her offer.

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

The old woman brought her to the motel and gave her a quick tour. The motel wasn't really five star material, but it was alright. The old woman showed her to her room.

"So this is where you will be staying." the woman explained. 

Peach walked into the room. It was shabby, and the wallpaper was brown and peeling off. There was a single bed, and a bureau with a mirror, which had a crack in it. There was also a faded window that couldn't be opened, and a there was a nightstand near the bed, with an old lamp.

Peach walked around, her footsteps made the wooden floorboards creak. "Hmm... I guess it's alright." she told the old woman. <i>"Oh my goodness, this is awful! How am I going to live like this?"</i> she thought.

"I expect you to be in the lobby no later than seven o'clock tomorrow." the woman told her. "From then you will be given your duties for the day. You will have three meals a day."

"I understand."

"I also have a set of rules that I expect all of my employees to follow at all times." the woman explained. "No complaining, so stealing, no lights on after ten o'clock, no goofing off, and no being rude to guests. If you break any rules, you will be thrown out. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Peach responded.

"Good." the woman said. "It's getting late. You have a long day ahead of you, so get some sleep." The woman said as she was about to leave.

"Wait!" 

"What is it?" the old woman asked, slightly annoyed.

"I never got your name." she told her.

"Tell me your name first."

"It's uh..." Peach quickly thought of names. "Angela."

The woman sighed. "It's Norma. Norma Mills. You are to call me Ms. Mills."

"Yes, Ms. Mills."

"Good night." Ms. Mills said as she left, closing the door behind her. Peach sat on the bed and thought about her new job. 

She hoped it wouldn't be so bad. She wasn't used to this at all, she had never had a job before, all her servants did mostly everything for her. But she had to stay strong. It was either this, or marrying Bowser, and she would do anything to avoid the latter. 

It took her a while to fall asleep, but eventually, she found herself comfortable enough to dose off.

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

The next day was brutal. She arrived in the lobby a few minutes early to make a good impression. It was alright so far, but then she received her chores for the day. 

She spent the whole day scrubbing the floors, cleaning windows, changing bedsheets, and sweeping. She did get her three meals, but the food was subpar. 

Peach was so relieved when it was time to go to sleep, she was more tired than she had ever been in her life. She fell onto her bed and fell asleep.

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

As she slept, she started to dream. She wasn't sure where she was, everything was so dark. She wandered around for a bit. 

"It's nice to see you again." a familiar voice said, which surprised her, which caused the voice to chuckle a bit. Peach turned around and saw King Boo. "Once again, you're scared so easily."

"Please don't do that again!" Peach criticized.

"Fine, I won't scare you again." he apologized. "I can't help the fact that it's quite comedic, though."

"It's okay." she responded. "I really appreciate what you did the other night."

"It was no problem. I just felt the need to help you." the king replied.

"Well, I still appreciate it." Peach said.  

"Did you make it out of that forest?" he asked.

"I did." she told him. "I managed to get a job and a place to stay. It's a motel. But I've only been there one day, and it's already hard."

"Of course. You were a pampered little princess for most of your life. This is a dramatic transition for you."

"You do have a point." she agreed. "I'll try to do my best."

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

The days went by as the former princess started getting used to the daily grind. Those days turned into weeks as she spent her time sweeping, dusting, and mopping. It was exhausting, for she would wake up at half past six in the morning, and not be finished until nine o'clock at night. Not to mention it seemed as though Ms. Mills didn't like her. She would make comments like "scrub harder!" and "you're not folding them right!". The other workers weren't that nice either. One employee, Laurel, decided it would be funny to trip her while she was walking down the hallway.

However, she did look forward to the day's end. King Boo had made a habit of visiting her dreams quite often. Why, she wasn't sure. They would have conversations about the day before. Despite the fact that he was the King of Boos, he would treat her kindly, as though she was an old friend. 

She was still confused why he suddenly cared so much, was he concerned about her? They had barely ever interacted before. And a rather terrifying realization came to her: she didn't mind his presence at all, in fact, she even liked his company. She looked forward to seeing him, and she couldn't explain why. He was a villain! He was an evil and powerful king who was feared by many. She should be afraid of him. But he was so nice to her, a side of him she had never heard of. What reason did he have to be kind to her? And if Mario was alive, what would he think of this? He might be horrified at the thought of her befriending someone like him. She felt quite guilty about this.

One night, she got her answer when she was visited again by King Boo.

"Peach Toadstool, there is just something about you." he told her. 

"What do you mean?" she responded.

He looked at her. "I was only going to visit you once, and then leave you alone, but for some reason, I found myself wanting to return to you, to see you again. I have spent my time thinking about you." he explained. He floated in front of her, and held her hands. "There's just something about you, something that I have yet to find in anyone else." 

"I don't understand, what have you found in me?"

"I haven't the slightest idea what exactly. I have never felt this way. I am the King of Boos. I have put fear into the hearts of mortals. But I just have this strange need, a strong desire to be with you, to make sure you're okay. I have heard of this feeling, but I had never experienced it until now. I thought I could escape it, but I couldn't handle this emotion any longer. Princess Peach Toadstool, I have fallen in love with you."

"You're in love with me?" the princess gasped. She couldn't believe this, was this the reason he kept visiting her?

He wrapped an arm around her waist. "I am very much in love with you, my dear princess." he murmured as he held her close to him. "I wasn't sure what Mario had seen in you, but now I understand why. You're very kind, and beautiful. And you've been through so much, I just want you to be alright."

"I... I don't know what to say." Peach stammered nervously. She couldn't think, and she should have been scared. But she was no longer afraid of him, in fact, she felt a calm yet satisfying sensation when he brought her closer, as though everything would be alright if he was near.

He began to stroke her hair. "I'm aware of the many horrible things I've done. I am not a good person. But I can make sure you're happy and safe with me."

She thought about his confession. She felt kind of wrong about all this, but at the same time, they had gotten to know each other quite well over the course of a month, and he hadn't harmed her.  Then she thought about Mario, and how he might have reacted if he were still alive. He would probably want her to move on, but with King Boo? Who knows. But being in his arms was a feeling that she couldn't find the right words to describe.

After all, she was trying to leave her old life behind. Maybe he would be able to help her.

"To be completely honest," the princess confessed. "I have really enjoyed your company as well, and you're the one thing I look forward to each day. I think... I think I might have some feelings for you too. But what if people find out about all this?"

"They don't need to know." he assured her. "It'll be our little secret." 

They held each other for a while. "It'll be morning soon. But I don't want to leave just yet..."

"I know, but we'll see each other again soon." 

"You're right. Besides, I have a job to do."

"Good luck, my dear." he whispered to her.

"Thank you, King Boo." the princess thanked.

"You're welcome."

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

When she woke up that morning, she was still blushing. She couldn't stop thinking about the night before, about how the most feared being in the entire Mushroom Kingdom and beyond, told her he loved her. It was all so much to take in. But she had to save those thoughts for another time, because it was time to start working once more.

As she walked into the lobby, she heard the gossip of the other employees.

"Did you hear, they say the Princess has been missing for over a month!"

"Really? No way!"

"I heard that King Bowser is offering a reward for those who bring her back!"

"Corinne told me that some people in Mushroom City tried to turn in a blonde imposter for the reward."

Peach felt her heart drop when she heard that last sentence. Her loyal subjects would easily sell her out like that? She felt quite betrayed. She had to be extra careful now.

She was assigned her tasks, as per usual. However, while she was sweeping the kitchen by herself, Laurel walked into the room.

"I know it's you." she muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"The others here are probably too stupid to notice, but I'm smart enough to tell you're the Princess."

"What makes you think I'm a princess?!" Peach exclaimed. 

"I can tell you're inexperienced when it comes to cleaning. Not to mention you have the same blonde hair, blue eyes, and face." Laurel pointed out. "Don't even bother trying to cover it up, Peach!"

She gasped. "Please don't tell anyone!"

"I won't." she assured her. "Under one condition."

"What would that be, exactly?" Peach asked.

"You do my chores for me, along with your own." she demanded. 

"That is absurd!"

"It's either more chores, or be ratted out to the cops. Which one will it be, blondie?" Laurel questioned with a smirk on her face.

Peach knew she couldn't go back, she wouldn't lose this battle. "Alright, fine." she sighed. "I will perform your duties."

"Good, I knew I could count on you!" she laughed meanly as she left Peach to continue sweeping. 

This would be a long day.

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

A long day, it was indeed. Now that her workload had doubled, she had less time to breathe. It was a seemingly never-ending cycle of back and forth. She got less hours of sleep, less time to eat, and it was showing. The stress was starting to get to her. All while Laurel was taking it easy, and slacking off with her friends.

"I'm very concerned about you, dear." King Boo told her one night. 

"I'm fine. It's nothing, I can handle this." she defended. 

"No, this is troublesome. Look at you, you're not eating enough, you're not getting enough sleep." he reminded her. "Stress kills, believe me, I've seen it happen."

"But what am I supposed to do? Tell her the deal's off and then have her reveal me to the authorities? I can't go back, I just can't!" she exclaimed. 

"I understand." he told her as he held her close. "But it hurts to see you suffer like this. How long do you plan on living like this?"

"I don't know..." she responded weakly. "I don't know..."

"Come with me."

"What?"

"You can run away and live with me. You won't have to work the life out of you."

"How? she questioned.

"I can take you there. Please, I don't want to see you slave away like this. You'll be alright, I promise. I just want you happy." he said to her.

"Okay, I'll go with you." she accepted. "But when?"

"We can leave tomorrow." 

"Just one more day..." she added. "I think I'll be able to handle one more day."

"Are you sure?" 

"I've already handled this much already. A single day shouldn't do much harm." she assured. 

"You're a lot more determined than I thought, aren't you?" he complimented.

"I gained it over time, I guess." she shrugged.

"Well, promised me you'll used that determination to get through the day?" 

"I promise."

"You're going to be alright. I'll make sure of it."

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

Morning arrived faster than Peach had anticipated. Her chores went on like normal, but she noticed Laurel had a smile on her face, as though she was planning something. The former princess tried her best to ignore it.

Later in the afternoon, she was changing the sheets in every bedroom. As she walked out of one of the rooms, she was met with a terrifying sight.

She saw Laurel talking with what appeared to be the police.

"The princess has been here for at least a month. She's working in this hotel, officer." Laurel explained to them.

"Are you positive it's really Her Highness?" the officer asked.

"It's most certainly her." she confirmed. She turned towards Peach and pointed her direction. "In fact, there she is right now."

Peach gasped as the police saw her, and quickly ran down the hallway to her room. She locked the door, and she could hear them running down the hallway. She was in a panic, now. The police were sure to look in every room. What was she to do?

"Peach!" she heard someone call her name. She turned around and saw King Boo in the room with her.

"You came back for me..." she said quietly.

"We don't have much time! Please come with me, you'll be safe." he told her as he held out his hand.

Peach smiled and took his hand, right as they both heard banging on the door. "I will."

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

The police officers kicked down the door, but they were surprised to find the room empty.

"That's strange, I couldn't have sworn I heard someone in here..." an officer stated.

"We'll just have to keep on looking." another one added.

"Well hurry up and find her!" Laurel shouted.

"Don't worry ma'am," the first officer told her. "We'll find her."

...

They never did.