#they’ve all sacrificed so much to keep the world safe so if they stop being shadowhunters then what was the point of any of it

[angeldaisies]

one thing that keeps me up at night about twp is the very real possibility that the shadowhunters might stop being shadowhunters in the last book

[ichayalovesyou]

(Re)Discovering A Strange New Spock: “Miri” (1x08)

Previous: What Are Little Girls Made Of?

Next: Dagger of The Mind

A meta anthology where I re-examine TOS, especially Spock, in light of the new information Discovery & Strange New Worlds has revealed about him to us.

Onto the Analysis!

No Appetite For Green Blood

“Being a red blooded human obviously has its disadvantages.”

Yet another testament to Spock’s utter distaste for Humans and rejection of the humanity within himself. I know you’d probably HATE to hear this Mr. Spock but you sound just like your father! Also, point of advice spock, maybe don’t tease the CMO whose tryna save everyone’s lives atm!

That being said his Vulcan blood is both saving his life, and could isolate him here on this foreign world. Doomed to live much, much longer than those around him. Almost a microcosm of his senior years… oof. So he gets to be a little flippant and infodump about microscopes a bit, as a treat.

Our Boys In The Only Blue I Respect (Science!)

On a slightly lighter note! This is the first time Spock & Bones have had to work together in a vacuum where there are no other science division members as a buffer. They are the only people on this planet capable of getting the job done.

Not only that we finally see them with the same priority, and agreeing with each other on something other than keeping Jim safe. It is the fact that the communicators are, in the grand scheme, more important than finding Janice. None of them can save her if they’re all dead. On this much, Bones and Spock agree, and remind Jim of that reality.

Almost Losing Bones (Do I Have A SECOND Friend?! Ugh! Annoying!)

They’ve stopped outright disliking each other, they’ve learned to trust each other, they’ve started teasing, they both realized Jim needs both of them. Now Spock is realizing he cares about and respects this curmudgeonly Doctor a lot more than he had anticipated.

Spock doesn’t want McCoy needlessly risking his life when Jim could get back to them in time. When Bones recklessly injects himself with the possible cure, and realizes something is wrong, the person he cries out to in panic is Spock. Possibly because McCoy instinctively knows, if anybody is gonna save him from himself, it’s gonna be him.

Then what does Spock do after checking McCoy’s vitals after he finds him?! He takes Bones hands and doesn’t let go, not even when Jim returns. The significance of touching hands in Vulcan culture brings further potency to this. Was this an instinctive, sentimental human gesture from a living man to a dying one. Or, was it subtle, deliberate Vulcan mental contact?

There’s a lot more adventures to be had in SNW, but as far as we know. This is may be the first time Spock has been in telepathic contact with someone who is unconscious and he believes is dying. I can’t help but be reminded of when AOS Spock stayed and melded with Pike as he died in Into Darkness.

On the same subject, I’ve talked about the ways Kirk reminds Spock of Chris (and Michael). I think, especially in this moment of reckless self-sacrifice, Bones reminds Spock of him too. Not only of Chris, but of Hemmer, who sacrificed himself as well, abrasive and grumpy on the surface but with an incredibly gentle soul underneath.

How much he gleaned of this truth from touch telepathy or from the immediate emotional pressure of Bones possibly dying is of course, ambiguous. Another aspect of this is for the first time since they’ve met, Bones was right! He was crazy and brash and almost died needlessly but Spock’s guilty of that too, just not today!

Spock is visibly relieved that it turns out he wasn’t dying after all, not only that but to his disbelief, correct in his risk. Jim is even present for most of the undeniable proof that Spock does care for Dr. McCoy.

I assume not wanting to ruin the progress or betray Spock’s trust Kirk might’ve kept his mouth shut. Just like he waits for Spock & Bones to concede to each other than oust the fact one confided to him that he agreed with the other in private.

Bones doesn’t know how much Spock cares yet, and won’t for a while. Spock may know that Bones cares thanks to the events of the episode. They’ll both know they care about each other eventually, but won’t admit it for a looong time. Jim knows they care about each other, but knows they’ll have to figure that part out for themselves.

The triumvirate continues to solidify as their adventures continue. Bones and Spock’s relationship in particular, crossed a threshold in this episode.

[thedoubteriswise]

okay so. I am a smart adult with many important responsibilities. I have good taste and care about things that matter. for this reason, I’ve been trying to identify where in cql canon wangxian manage to fuck.

because they definitely do; I like a good post-canon getting together fic as much as the next guy, but it’s just not realistic.

allow them. it’s already been so long.

(just like this goddamn post turned out to be, let’s do a cut)

right. so initially it looks like you could place this right after the time skip in episode 33, because it shows us that wwx is with lwj in cloud recesses. we know that he spent the night in the jingshi because he wakes up there the next morning before he goes for a nostalgic tour of his old school.

and also visits the cold spring, where lwj is mostly naked. nice.

but wait! wwx is surprised by the scars on his back and chest. that seems like something he would have known about if they’d already been naked together the night before, so I’m going to say they did not fuck immediately upon wwx’s return to cloud recesses. okay, fine, they’re taking things slow, that’s cool.

maybe they could work it into the next night, then. oh wait, lqr is injured and... staying in the jingshi? for reasons?

I don’t know why. he must have his own house in cloud recesses, and it’s probably at least as comfortable as lwj’s, but here he is. he lives to stop his nephew from getting laid, I guess.

the next day they do some Q&A with the kids and determine that they need to head to qinghe to figure out what’s going on with this sword thing. great! we love a romantic road trip, plenty of alone time. but they also have to do their jobs, and then jin ling needs to get rescued from a wall of dirt, and jc is unfortunately there being himself, and then they have to grill nhs about his tomb full of angry sabers, etc. etc.

with all that going on, their next obvious chance is at the inn immediately after interviewing nhs. this evening has already included:

wwx gazing lovingly at lwj from afar

lwj carrying wwx on his back

lwj pawing at wwx’s robes trying to deal with his cursed leg

lwj helping wwx up the stairs, serving him wine, fixing his flute, and generally being at his beck and call

a very sexy and homoerotic duet

and now they’re alone and drooling over each other as usual. this seems like a plausible spot, right?

it does! but no. after they go back to the nie basement o’ swords and hear the backstory on nmj’s death, we see them walking in yueyang and lwj asks wwx how the curse mark on his leg is doing. wwx says it’s almost healed, which may or may not be a lie, but his inner monologue says:

he’s more concerned about the wound on his arm from the sacrificing curse, which lwj doesn’t know about, because wwx won’t tell him and they still haven’t been naked together.

also, this silly teenage shit doesn’t make much sense unless they’re still dancing around each other.

you guys love the sound of opportunities as they go flying past, don’t you?

right after this, lwj gets drunk. I’m aware that Stuff Happens in the novel scene that inspired this bit, and they do incorporate some of that into the show by having lwj commit petty larceny and admit that he “likes rabbits” as part of the softest and most loving conversation in human history oh my god

but lwj goes to sleep right on time, and the next morning, wwx is laughing and reassuring him that nothing happened.

after this, it’s time to go on a fucked up field trip with the kids in yi city, so they don’t really have any time alone for a few episodes until they’ve finished that and everyone is back at yet another inn. I wonder if they learned something about wasted chances and poor communication from this miserable songxiao story?

maybe! look, they’re being cute and domestic. there are currently no material barriers preventing them from having sex, nor will there be any specific evidence later on proving that they didn’t.

but they’re still firmly in mystery-solving mode and the juniors and lxc are floating around. the vibe isn’t quite there. if I were to pick the most solid reason why I think they’re saving room for jesus at this point, it would be the tension that happens when wwx again asks how lwj recognized him. lwj asks why his memory is so bad, and wwx replies that he wishes he had a bad memory. even though they’re comfortable and happy being together, there’s still some fundamental distance remaining. there’s no sense of romantic resolution. that was actually a point against all their previous opportunities as well; they’re all very sweet, but none of these feel like the place in a story where the romantic leads Officially Get Together.

okay, off to koi tower! shit is getting extremely real. everyone’s busy insinuating that they recognize wwx, but no one is saying it explicitly. wwx isn’t supposed to be here. the guy he’s pretending to be also isn’t supposed to be here. he and his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother are trying to figure out if his boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend is a murderer. no one is comfortable and the political intrigue leaves no time for fucking in front of anyone’s salad.

I guess there’s plenty of time to make dozens of armed guards and like half the people they know wait while they have a romantic moment, though.

could they be more in love? And that sure feels like a romantic resolution that might be followed by narratively-earned sex.

ah. no, unfortunately wwx gets stabbed again. this certainly sucks, but it does have the helpful consequence of making lwj take him back to cloud recesses, where they are mostly alone and as safe as they can be in the circumstances. now there’s even more tenderness and also some plot-justified touching and skin exposure. plus, lwj just made a very public declaration of love.

too bad wwx has probably been unconscious since he started coughing up blood in the forest near lanling. he’s also still visibly in pain. fresh abdominal wounds tend to kill the mood.

but hey, the injuries on this show are only as serious as they need to be to move the plot forward and facilitate gentle h/c scenes, so by evening he’s looking perfectly healthy and walking around under his own steam like nothing’s wrong. I guess that problem can be ignored moving forward.

lxc then offers the the most devastating highlights of lwj’s backstory, like, all at once. it’s nice that he includes a flute solo to give wwx a second to process this mountain of terrible information. what the fuck.

there he is! the most devoted man in the whole world! turns out they can actually be more in love after all.

and then the following scene... look, I’m lazy and I don’t know how to make gifs, but screenshots cannot properly convey how good it is. you all know. the hesitant way wwx approaches, the slow and gentle piano version of wangxian, the two of them watching the snow together, it’s. ugh.

remember how I was talking about how the last scene with no material barriers was an unlikely candidate because of the lack of romantic resolution?

well, here’s wwx still being cagey at the beginning of this conversation.

and here they are in the middle of this conversation, having some epiphanies about the course of wwx’s life - I love this shot for a lot of reasons, but I extra love it because it shows wwx out in the snow, with lwj as the safety and warmth waiting behind him, god this show goes hard, holy shit

they both recall their vow to live with a clean conscience and internally say some very corny things about each other because they are both So Much, and then,

ah, what the hell. he can say it out loud after all. romantic resolution accomplished.

and then the camera slowly pulls away as wuji plays.

a slow zoom out? swelling music? listen, I am a connoisseur, I know a tasteful fade-to-black indicating a sex scene that won’t happen on camera when I see one. at last, we have a winner!

now you may think this post is finally over, but I actually have one more piece of evidence for you - the next scene shows the two of them the morning after, meditating behind a screen in the hanshi while lxc is waiting for jgy to show up.

before wwx got de-cored, he was a pretty powerful cultivator, right? the chances that he’s just bad at meditating or that he can’t stay focused on this task seem slim to me. so why does he keep falling asleep?

well. he had kind of a late night.

[gatorprompts]

✧ — ⋆   𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

from  the  2021  album  by  marina .  swearing  and  blood  references  present .

ANCIENT  DREAMS  IN  A  MODERN  LAND . 

“ we’re  not  here  so  we  can  blow  it  all . ” “ we  could  bear  witness  to  the  ride  and  fall . ” “ ancient  dreams  in  a  modern  land . ” “ i’m  trying  to  get  back  as  fast  i  can . ” “ you  don’t  have  to  be  like  everybody  else . ” “ you  are  not  here  to  conform . ” “ i  am  here  to  take  a  look  inside  myself . ” “ i  could   be  the  eye ,  the  eye  of  the  storm . ” “ i  am  not  my  body ,  not  my  mind  or  my  brain . ” “ i  am  the  observer . ” “ i  live  in  the  space  between  the  stars  and  the  sky . ” “ what’s  your  purpose ? ” “ you  could  be  lost ,  but  you  belong  to  the  world . ” “ the  walls  are  being  broken  and  we’re  ready  for  a change .”

VENUS  FLY  TRAP .

“ whatever  you  give  life  you  will  get  back . ” “ why  be  a  wallflower  when  you  can  be  a  venus  fly  trap ? ” “ i  never  quite  fit  in  to  that  hollywood  thing . ” “ i  didn’t  play  that  game  for  the  money  or  the  fame . ” “ i  did  it  my  way ,  baby . ” “ nothing  in  this  world  could  change  me . ” “ don’t  underestimate  me . ” “ one  day  you’re  gonna  see  you’re  in  a  losing  battle . ” “ babe ,  you’ll  never  stop  being  me . ” “ i  got  the  beauty ,  got  the  brains . ” “ got  the  power ,  hold  the  reins . ” “ i  should  be  motherfucking  crazy . ” “ i  sacrificed  it  all  for  a  life  to  call  mine . ” “ i  know  that  money  ain’t  important . ” “ i  earned  it  all  myself ,  i’m  a  millionairess . ” “ they’ll  shame  you . ”

MAN’S  WORLD .

“ i’m  a  strawberry  soda ,  raise  my  lashes  to  heaven . ” “ stars  in  my  hair  running  like  a  waterfall . ” “ burnt  me  at  the  stake ,  you  thought  i  was  a  witch  centuries  ago . ” “ i  don’t  wanna  live  in  a  man’s  world  anymore . ” “ maybe  it’s  time  you  comprehend . ” “ don’t  punish  me  for  not  being  a  man . ” “ women  are  violets  coming  to  light . ” “ don’t  underestimate  the  making  of  life . ” “ the  planet  has  a  funny  way  of  stopping  a  fight . ”

PURGE  THE  POISON .

“ all  my  friends  are  witches . ” “ mythical  bitches  making  our  own  sisterhood . ” “ while  society  is  falling ,  we  are  quietly  reforming . ” “ what  have  you  been  doing ? ” “ you  are  not  my  master . ” “ need  to  purge  the  poison . ” “ nothing’s  hidden  anymore . ” “ tell  me ,  who  do  you  think  you  are ? ” “ you  forgot  that  without  me ,   you  won’t  go  far . ” “ truth  and  all  its  glory . ” “ the  ending  of  the  story . ” “ our  life  as  we  knew  it  now  belongs  to  yesterday . ” “ i  just  want  a  world  where  i  can  see  the  feminine . ” “ cast  the  moon  under  our  spell . ” “ owning  female  power ,  taking  back  what’s  ours . ” “ earth  is  like  a  white  rose . ” “ a  place  so  corrupt . ”

HIGHLY  EMOTIONAL  PEOPLE .

“ life  is  a  game  that  the  universe  plays . ” “ we  are  the  pieces  in  a  puzzle  called  fate . ” “ emotions  unfold  like  a  superbloom  in  action . ” “ this  is  how  we’re  meant  to  be . ” “ we’re  just  highly  emotional  people . ” “ you  don’t  need  to  hide . ” “ sometimes  it’s  hard  to  tell  me  how  you feel . ” “ i  never  see  you  cry . ” “ feelings  come  up  and  you  push  ‘em  down . ” “ i  feel  your  pain  ‘cause  i  know  life  is  hard . ” “ you  can  let  go  of  the  pain  in  your  heart . ” “ people  say  men  don’t  cry . ” “ it’s  so  much  easier  to  lie . ”

NEW  AMERICA .

“ everything  that  made  you  great  only made  you  bad . ” “ made  the  people  hate  all  the  good  they  had . ” “ i  know  that  you  had  big  dreams . ” “ abuse  won’t  make  a  free  land . ” “ you  can’t  bury  the  truth . ” “ it’s  time  to  play  your  dues . ” “ stars  are  shining  for  you . ” “ now  our  food  doesn’t  taste  like  its  meant  to . ” “ they’ve  got  blood  on  their  hands . ” “ they  stole  all  the  land . ” “ and  all  the  lies  they’re  here  to  raise  make  them  feel  like  a  man . ” “ no  matter  what ,  the  story’s  catching  up  to  you . ” “ you’ve  been  in  pain  for  a  while . ” “ you  can’t  hide  your  secrets . ”

PANDORA’S  BOX .

“ you  almost  turned  me  psycho . ” “ i  almost  lost  my  mind . ” “ i  didn’t  know  the  depth  yet  of  someone  so  unkind . ” “ you  damaged  what  we  had . ” “ you  don’t  know  what  you  just  unlocked . ” “ i  lose  all  control . ” “ let  go  of  my  darkest  thoughts . ” “ ‘cause  i  see  the  truth  when  we  were  stacked  against  the  odds . ” “ i’ve  escaped  many  vices ,  but  i  can  never  escape  the  war  inside  my  skull . ” “ you  know  that  love’s  a  gift ,  but  it  can  also  be  a  curse . ” “ i  thought  it  would  get  better .   i  kept  my  hope  alive . ” “ i  don’t  wanna  be  the  bearer  of  pain  so  we  can  survive . ” “ i  pray  that  hope’s  not  lost . ”

I  LOVE  YOU ,   BUT  I  LOVE  ME  MORE .

“ i  love  you ,  but  i  love  me  more . ” “ don’t  come  back  knocking  at  my  door . ” “ you’ve  had  your  chance  and  now  you  want  more . ” “ do  you  expect  me  to  believe  that  you’ve  changed ? ” “ you’re  exactly  the  same . ” “ you’d  rather  shut  your  eyes  than  feel  any  pain . ” “ why  did  we  fuck  it  up ? ” “ told  you  before  that  love  isn’t  enough . ” “ how  can  i  trust  you  after  what  i’ve  been  through ? ” “ you  only  care  about  me  when  it  suits  you . ” “ women  love  too  early  and  men  love  too  late . ” “ your  promises ,  they  just  suffocate . ” “ why  did  you  mess  it  up ? ” “ are  you  worth  the  risk ? ” “ i  just  can’t  make  up  my  mind . ” “ i’ve  been  choosing  your  heart ,  your  heart  over  mine . ” “ i  don’t  understand  how  you  missed  all  the  signs . ” “ you’ve   had  your  chance  and  now  you  want  more . ”

FLOWERS .

“ now  we’ve  reached  the  end . ” “ i  think  it  made  me  stronger . ” “ i  would  rather  not  betray  myself  just  to  keep  your  love  at  any  cost . ” “ it’s  most  tempting  to  give  in  when  you  hear  the  firin’  shots . ” “ with  every  careless  action ,  you  let  me  slip  away . ” “ if  you  just  bought  me  flowers ,  maybe  i  would’ve  stayed . ” “ you  didn’t  think i  was  serious . ” “ i  guess  you  felt  so  safe . ” “ the  seeds  we  planted  grew ,  but  not  like  roses  do . ” “ we  had  the  thorns  and  leaves ,  but  the  buds never  bloomed . ” “ now  my  future  gleams  with  colours  bold  and  bright ,  in  a home  that’s  filled  with  love  and  hope . ” “ it’s  more  tempting  to  give  in  when  you’re  almost  at  the  top . ” “ when  you’re  steps  from  winning  back  all  the  happiness  you  lost . ” “ there’s  no  heartbreak  left  to  feel . ” “ after  you  made  your  choices ,  i  melted  away  like  snow . ” “ you like  lying  to  yourself . ” “ now  i’ll  never  know  what  parts  of  your  love  were  for  real  and  which  parts  were  for  show . ”

GOODBYE .

“ heaven ,  if  there’s  a  star  for  us ,  up  there  in  your  lovers’  universe ,  shine  your  light  down  on  me . ” “ another  life  waits  to  unfold ,  maybe  one  day  if  we’re  lucky . ” “ i  fucked  it  up ,  i  lost  it  all . ” “ my  life  might  not  be  what  i  thought ,  but  i  wouldn’t  change  a  thing . ” “ i  will  never  be  yours  again . ” “ never  wanted  our  love  to  end . ” “ goodbye ,  my  friend . ” “ maybe  we  won’t  meet  again . ” “ you’ll  always  be  my  closest  friend . ” “ i  hope  you’ll  always  be  happy . ” “ some  mistakes  are  hard  to  learn . ” “ broken  hearts  are  quick  to  burn  and  slow  to  heal  easily . ” “ i’ve  been  a  mother  to  everyone  else . ” “ goodbye  to  the  girl  that  i  was . ” “ goodbye  to  the  girl  that  you  lost . ” “ nobody  can  take  our  love  down . ” “ it’s  safe  inside  our  memories . ” “ i  won’t  forget  how  you  healed  me . ”

[buzzykrueger]

When Gon’s anger becomes a protective mechanism for Killua

IMPORTANT: The text is long, plus, I do not support Gon hate. He’s a human being and a kid, so don’t worry, none of my analysis will put him as a monster.

You know the theory that one of the reasons Gon shuts Killua out from Pitou’s fight, besides proving himself and erasing his guilt, is also to keep Killua safe? I didn’t understand at first, but I kinda agree with that now.

Remember the “YES I AM AN IDIOT” iconic scene, Greed Island arc?

Let’s talk about that and link it all.

They’ve spent half of the chapter 158 arguing because Gon kept insisting on meeting this “Chrollo Lucilfer” person inside the game, while Killua was trying to be logical, saying that this person wouldn’t clarify their reasons only by asking them. Killua eventually gives in, and after Gon uses the card, they travel to met not Chrollo, but Hisoka, who asks if they went all that way just to ask him a question (implying how dumb it was).

Gon says that’s pretty much their reason and Killua kept teasing Gon on his dumb choice.

But after some ping-pong teasing between them, the reason Gon was being stubborn is, actually, a concern that lights up on his mind with memories of his journey to rescue Killua from Kukuroo Mountain. Even blushing, Gon says that he was reminded of Gotoh’s words and was worried that both of them were being deceived.

Gotoh’s words were, exactly:

Be careful. And protect Killua.

This also adds to the character analysis - one that is very on point - that Gon being outgoing doesn’t mean he puts depth to analyzing his feelings. He speaks his mind, the problem is not to talk per se - but to put effort into understand his intentions behind those actions. He could say he was worried about them, but he doesn’t, because he speaks first and doesn’t think through what he feels. He’s yes outgoing, but impulsive, and very immersive into acting first, think later - or even thinking only when questioned, because it didn’t even crossed his mind. That’s why we see him talking but yet... it’s hard to know what is happening inside him aside from Killua’s common inner monologues. But maybe protecting Killua it’s so natural that he doesn’t even bother to explain. To think that he keeps Gotoh’s words and even mentions it after all this time, such a nice and gentle touch of how much he respects his bond with Killua. 

Now, let’s get back to the CAA events. Specifically chapter 222.

A very shocked and distressed Gon was learning through Kite's attacks, but not to defend himself or parry. His painful attempts were all leading to dodge the punches and faints, so he could give puppet Kite a hug, and an apology.

Yes, he said terrible things to Killua - and of course wanting to protect him wasn’t the only reason. But he knew from the moment they first met Pitou, that they were dangerous. He wanted to deal with that alone, because it was “his mess”, so he shouldn’t endanger his most beloved one. 

We know that this is a turning point for Gon’s development in this arc, because it is the moment where his resolve becomes tainted with all the guilt he is facing. It’s when he starts to lose himself, and Killua knows that, probably, nothing he says or do will convince Gon otherwise.

But what contrasts with the well-known harsh words towards his best friend, is that he never meant to exclude Killua from the whole situation. That's why he says "OUR fault".

Then, right after, he addresses Killua directly. Visibly starting to lose himself, he takes the responsibility to prove he's strong to fix it, but I think that due to his communication pattern, he might also mean that he’s want to fix it without endangering who he wanted to fight by his side under normal circumstances.

It’s an act that can hold both guilt and protection. He addresses only that one person in the room because he needs Killua to know that this isn't a normal situation, and that's why he can't bring him to this fight. It isn’t normal because someone dear to him got hurt really bad. It isn’t normal because his best friend, someone who would not think before putting his life at risk for Gon, shouldn’t endanger himself to the point he could face the same destiny, specially because this is Gon’s way to show he cares. Again, Gon just speaks his mind without much thought, with his intentions between the lines. His effort to put his feelings into words mixed with the suffering he is handling are, on his mind, overwhelming enough - but still he cared to speak directly to Killua. Could this be, again, another demonstration of not-so-well-thought feelings spoken with the first words that come to his mouth?

Wouldn’t make sense, after all of those demonstrations of Gon’s behavior when someone is endangered and he desperately wants to take control of the situation because he thinks this is the best way to protect them and to be useful, and with that, deserving of their company? 

As Gon's communication is both simple (in words) and complex (behind the words), since he doesn't think through his feelings and he’s a stubborn child, it makes hard for others to catch his intentions, specially if they're already struggling to understand that they are not a burden. Because Killua’s mindset on making friends also includes the need to feel useful, just like Gon’s, but expressed through different means - and by being casted away fro Gon’s decision and later saving the boy in order to push him forward once again to his goal (alone this time), Killua thinks Gon has cut ties with him. as he couldn’t play a helpful role within Gon’s life anymore. So, this is how he reaches the rejective conclusion.

But the connection that I'm trying to make is that even thought Gon’s words were awful as the boy himself recognized, I truly believe Gon still wouldn't want Killua to fight even if he knew how his friend felt.  But not because he rejected Killua or meant to cut ties with his “no longer useful” best friend.

Because Gon has stated already: Killua doesn’t have to earn his friendship.

Those harsh words during the Palace Invasion were an attempt to regain control of the situation, prove his worth in the middle of a mental chaos that he wasn’t ready to face. But still, what if he kept reminding himself that he must protect his best friend in the entire world and just couldn’t find a better way to say it? Because he knows Killua is capable of self-sacrificing, Gon tried to stop him before, and Pitou is terribly strong. If it’s hard for him to translate his feelings when he is calm and collected, the extreme condition he found himself dragged in would’ve just made this communication face more obstacles. Fighting his own pain - another thing he couldn’t translate for the sake of his own mental health - led to the words to come out like they were: heartbreaking.

So, I’m not saying that it was solely to protect Killua, but I think that makes sense for Gon’s character. And again, I don’t think he would agree that Killua would fight what he thinks it’s his battle alone. But, with his mind cleared and the right questions, he would've given Killua an answer. He would say that this is not about taking Killua out of the special place Gon has put him, but about Gon taking the the responsibility based on what he thinks it’s best for everyone. His feelings, either protective or hurtful, are only explained when he’s asked, because action speaks volume for him and he needs this trigger question to make him translate his intentions.

Just like in the Hunter Exam, he only tells Kurapika about how he felt with Hisoka because he questioned. 

And in the Yorknew Arc, Gon didn’t let Killua hurt himself and was really trying to understand how the other boy felt. Gon doesn't communicate well but not because he rejects his feelings, and still, he cares about others’ feelings too. He was just literally out of his mind. So yeah, I think he cared for Killua safety, and if after all this time he made a connection between his stubborn acts and Gotoh’s words, it’s because - on his mind - these words and thoughts never leave his head. He’s constantly worrying about Killua, in his own way. But he couldn't explain something that he didn't put a second thought even for himself to understand. And it's not the first time, he acts very similar in these mentioned situations.

What all these stubborn oriented situations that I’ve mentioned, except for the one regarding Hisoka, have in common? He wanted to protect Killua.

He was undeniably wrong in saying those words to Killua, but it’s something acknowledged by himself already. He IS, by his nature, a protective kid, and under normal circumstances, Killua would be allowed to fight by his side because it has to be him. If it’s not going to be him, it won’t be anyone else. He can’t risk to lose him for something that he feels overly responsible. His words were rooted in pain, but the moment he addresses Killua that he would fight alone - a moment recollected by the latter in the hospital scene - shows respect for the one he has just lost, Kite, and the one he doesn’t want to lose. 

Killua is the one who never left him, never discredited him and is irreplaceable. Killua is the first thing that comes up to his mind when thinking about meeting Ging. Who would have thought that Gon’s mind would reach so far into memories and hold so deeply someone’s words like Gotoh’s?

He was selfish. But it’s a childish selfishness, built on such empty expectations about himself that he ends up forcing on others what he believes that is the right thing to do, in order to keep others safe, no matter how bad he hurts his body... because when it comes to protect those he care, he loses respect on his self-care due to this low self-esteem of his. So, he didn’t ask Killua to “please, let me fight alone”, because he’s decided to not drag Killua into a fight he knows he might lose, and then Killua couldn’t be protected.

And makes sense, again, that Killua couldn’t read between these lines, because he also blames himself for everything that happened, and thinks his feelings and desires would only keep in Gon’s way - that’s why those words hit him so deeply, but the thing that hurts him the most was the sole fact that Gon fought alone. He can’t help but compare to the dodgeball, and like Gon, Killua has his own unhealthy patterns: since he only knows love through pain, when he’s prevented from getting hurt against his will, he fails to understand it as an act of love.

The bond they’ve established while playing Greed Island was expressed through dozens of symbolisms already well discussed among the fandom (Killua’s badge, the rainbow diamond, the famous line during the dodgeball game). And I don’t doubt that their encounter with Pitou held traces of the same protective pattern, but messed up by Gon’s internal struggle.

For the times Gon showed concern before, we can mention more expressive moments like the whole Zoldyck arc, when they were escaping from the Troupe, when Tzeseguerra said he’d endangered Killua or even when Killua got caught by some spell, etc, or we can even analyze his body language. Like here:

Before the date, Gon is indirectly protecting Killua in here, through his body language (Killua entered the room first, but Gon puts himself between them):

And after the date, while being punished for hurting her feelings, Gon screams at Palm when she tried to stab Killua, probably implying that he was observing and only interveins when she tries to hurt anyone other than himself - because he is, again, being stubborn and taking all the blame and control in order to redeem his actions and prove his capacity to fix things. I think it’s possible that Gon talked to her about Killua off curtains, or at least made an agreement about not involving Killua in her madness, but it it’s open to interpretation.

So, yeah, I can’t help but link everything to his pattern. He responds to the fear of losing those he loves with the same impactful devotion that is given to him, but it is so impactful that fails vocabulary and second thoughts. He knows Killua will be the first to risk his life if something happens or to prevent Gon from getting hurt during his tasks. Killua tends to sacrifice a lot and never complains while doing it, so I think it’s pretty much plausible that even when he can’t express himself at all, he’s worrying about Killua in the corner of his mind. Sometimes, just before our eyes.

Anyways, I love re-reading Greed Island arc and linking to their development through CAA because pretty much anything they do, they’re doing together, and they were bonding so beautifully. Their relationship was never so well-detailed before, but mostly for us, when they didn’t get much time to put in the balance how rushed their training was, and how fast they got attached to the point they can’t even stop thinking about each other while distant.

They look at each other like this:

They inspire this kind of reaction from others:

And there’s this one... nothing big, I just love it hahahaha

They’re in love each others’ top priority. It’s not impossible that Gon took Killua’s safety into matter, but his mind and words failed him, as he himself acknowledges that the only explanation to say those things to Killua is that “he doesn’t know what he was thinking”. Because, under normal circumstances, just like about letting Killua fight by his side, he would NEVER hurt Killua’s feelings. He IS protective. He didn’t have to rescue Killua from his own home - since Killua left for himself - but he still does it, instead of sticking to his main journey. And did not budge until Killua was safe by his side.

It’s a badly worded protection, because he doesn’t even know self-protection and puts action before everything. To figure a better way out of this pattern, he will now have plenty of time to find new ways to protect Killua and himself from the flaws of their dynamic. Their emotional attachment didn’t grow as fast as their fighting skills, but it doesn’t mean Gon is a monster, was malicious towards Killua or wanted to break his heart. I don’t even think he would reject Killua, but would explain the reason behind his decision in a reassuring way.

And finally, it’s so symbolic how Gotoh died and got replaced by a Kiriko - the same creature that translates Gon’s perceptiveness and how the boys are close. This way, they are still linked by Gotoh’s words through someone that mimics Gotoh’s appearance and also understands their relationship like the long gone butler. His words will never die.

And not to mention... how shoujo and romantic it is that Gon remembers the promise he made to Gotoh before he takes Killua with him? It is almost like a marriage proposal. That he didn’t forget, not even after all this time. 

Do I think he would’ve change his mind on letting Killua fight? Not at all, and Killua couldn’t change his mind even if he begged, at least not without some patient mental work. This is Gon’s mindset on protecting someone. But like that time in Greed Island, under normal circumstances, Gon would’ve ease Killua’s worries directly or indirectly after some talking. And of course, it is not his job to guess Killua’s feelings, communication must be a two-way path. Killua waited for too long, and at that point, Gon was too lost in his grief and wasn’t able to measure his words. But I truly believe that, deep inside his mind, those words and that promise were still there, waiting to resonate if necessary.

And as @gallyl​ added so perfectly: Killua is alive and well, grieving on the hospital’s bench, trying to get a grip of everything he just experienced. Decided to give Gon a second chance, he’s now able to understand this message of love Gon has left for him: there’s so much he can do in life, that Gon simply doesn’t want him to die because Killua’s whole life was surrounded by death - and Killua’s greatest wish was to live like a normal kid. And this speaks louder to Gon than having Killua to himself in death. A love that is not selfish, and does not envy. Killua’s life is validated, and in return, he saves Gon and his sister, the ones he loves the most, and validate back their right to exist, to grow, to try again. Unconditional love. At first, he’s hurt and demands an apology. But it’s Alluka who reminds him of how love must be free to give and to receive - he should let his heart open for whenever Gon is ready to reach him again.

But now, the apology will matter. 

And this is absurdly romantic. Not every sacrifice ends up in dying together to prove a relationship. They’ve made promises similar to marital vows, and not everything happened like they wanted, but they made clear to us that they’re not done with each other - as they refuse to say goodbye, and keep grammatical constructions like “for a while”, indicating a break, an interlude. 

Their song is still playing, and their promises still exist as their split was never mentioned as something definitive, because preventing the other one to get physically hurt on your behalf and taking some time to think before you take the risk to accidentally emotionally hurt them too are both ways to show protection. Ways that they’re learning now, two boys who think they should get hurt to love and be loved. 

[cosmicjoke]

Levi the Reluctant Hero

I wrote a post last night about one of Levi’s short stories from Vol. 1, in which he dreams of all his comrades dressed in fine clothing, living the high life of the MP’s, and he thinks, at first, how wrong they all look dressed like that, before Hange, in his dream, asks “But it’s better than this, right?”, before they all fall to the ground and begin to bleed out, and Levi then wakes, and tries to convince himself that all he has to do is protect them, and defend the choice they’ve made to live the life of a Scout.  My post went into discussing the conflict between Levi’s desire to protect the lives of his friends and comrades, to keep them safe, and his own duty as a Scout to fight for humanity, and accept the many losses necessary among their number to make the Survey Corps’ goal a reality.

Well, it got me thinking more of the subject of that conflict within Levi, and in particular, about how that struggle was further impacted by his discovery of Erwin’s true motivations.

What’s interesting to note about Levi is that, as far as we know, he is the ONLY member of the SC who was pressed into service, whereas everyone else there is a volunteer, willingly signing up out of their own volition.  Levi ends up staying with the SC after Erwin convinces him that his strength and skill are needed by humanity in order to win the war against the Titans, in order for humanity to achieve its freedom and salvation.  And more to the point, Levi ends up becoming incredibly loyal towards Erwin, and trusting of Erwin’s judgment, always following his orders dutifully, even when he himself feels dubious as to his plans and course of action.  Levi follows Erwin with such devoted dedication because he genuinely believes that all of Erwin’s great vision and tactical genius is being implemented for the greater good of all humanity, because he believes Erwin can see a path toward succeeding in that goal that Levi himself, and no one else either, is capable of seeing.  

We see, more than once, Levi express his discomfort or dislike of Erwin’s plans, most particularly when it involves endangering the lives of the SC members.  Like, for example, in Trost, when we see Levi’s hands literally shaking out of anxiety and dismay at the battle that breaks out there, and his inability to join in the fight, or before that, during the battle with the Female Titan in the forest, first when Levi snapped at Erwin for trying to give him the credit for their success in trapping her, and then later, when Levi wishes to go find his squad, and Erwin stops him from going.  But still, Levi yields to Erwin’s commands and tells him he’ll “trust his judgment”.  

How this relates to my post from last night is in the fact that Levi follows Erwin’s orders, even when it means the deaths of his comrades is more than just a possibility, but even a certainty, and how that choice to follow Erwin is particularly remarkable, because it goes against every instinct and desire Levi himself has.  Levi’s first and foremost wish, during every battle we see him in, is to protect the lives of his comrades.  He goes so far as to order them, both in Shinganshina and later in Liberio to “not die” and “survive”, as if he simply won’t accept anything less than them making it out alive.  In Shinganshina, Levi took the bulk of the burden onto himself while trying to protect the horses from the numerous smaller titans because the other Scouts with him were new recruits and inexperienced, and he wanted to save them from having to engage with titans as much as he possibly could.  And when the Beast Titan began throwing boulders at them, Levi’s first action was to try and rally everyone to scale the wall and get to the other side, where he believed they would find safety.  There’s plenty of other examples throughout the manga in which Levi does all he can to save the life of not only his comrades, but even total strangers.  My point is, to Levi, the most important thing of all is the lives of people.  He places the most value, the most worth, on people’s lives, and in his view, protecting those lives is what matters most, and what he, personally, can do best.

And so, it is no doubt particularly difficult for him to put that instinct and priority and desire aside when Erwin orders him to, in order to execute his plans.  Like, again, in the battle with the Female Titan, when Levi has to hold himself back from intervening with the soldiers engaging her while he and his squad lead her into Erwin’s trap, or again in Trost, or again in Shinganshina, etc...  Levi is only able to put aside his own instincts and desires to follow Erwin because he believes wholeheartedly in Erwin’s own, altruistic goal, that is, the salvation of humanity.  Erwin himself convinced Levi of this during the climactic moment of “No Regrets”, when he gives Levi his speech about only being able to defeat the Titans and free humanity from their terror by riding out beyond the walls and fighting back, by discovering where they come from and thus, discovering their weaknesses.  He convinces Levi that this is a worthy goal, a noble goal, worth sacrificing their lives for and, if he lends his strength to the SC, he can help make this dream a reality, and that Erwin himself possesses a special scope of vision which he will apply with total dedication to also making this dream a reality.

It’s this belief in Erwin, and in Erwin’s speech, that leads Levi to follow him so loyally.  

What’s really prevalent here is that Erwin convinces Levi specifically that to sacrifices ones life for the cause of the SC is a worthy and meaningful sacrifice.  Before Erwin begins his speech, Levi is grief stricken over the loss of Furlan and Isabel, and after Erwin reveals how he used all of them in his plans to incriminate Lovof, Levi says to him, in clear anguish, “It wasn’t worth throwing away their lives!  They were nothing but pawns in your worthless game.”  He thinks Erwin’s used and sacrificed the lives of his friends for something as stupid and meaningless as catching a white collar criminal.  And then Erwin goes into his speech about freeing humanity, and essentially convinces Levi that his friends didn’t die for a “worthless game”, but for the greater good, for the salvation and freedom and dreams of all humanity, and this is what gets Levi to accept Erwin’s offer and stay.  This belief that he, and all of them, are fighting and sacrificing themselves for a better and safer world, in which people can live without fear or constriction, in which people’s lives themselves will be bettered.  It’s this belief that allows Levi to accept the loss of lives within the ranks of his comrades, even as he wishes desperately that he could protect them all.  He trusts Erwin is doing the right thing, because he believes in Erwin’s own goodness, and believes Erwin, like him, just wants to help people.

One of the things Levi struggles with most throughout the story, I think, and in particular, during the final arc, is the belief that all they’ve been fighting for is actually worth the loss of life they’ve all experienced.  I think this was always a struggle for Levi, because I think it was always hard for Levi to even believe in the possibility of a better, safer, happier world, because he himself came from a world of such desperate struggle and hardship.  But he believed in Erwin, and that gave Levi the strength to trust in its possibility, and to dedicate himself to the cause, even as he suffered immensely with each lost comrade.

And then he learns the truth about Erwin, which is that he hasn’t been fighting for humanity’s salvation, and his plans, which relied on the heavy sacrifices of their comrades, weren’t devised with the goal of humanity’s freedom at their core.  Instead, Erwin has been fighting and sacrificing the lives of his comrades for a personal goal, both of getting revenge for his father by discovering the existence of humanity beyond the walls and proving him right in the process, and, I think, for the sake of knowledge itself, wanting to simply know.  

This realization, for Levi, must have been utterly devastating, because suddenly it’s like everything he accused Erwin of before, while holding his blade to his throat and telling him that the lives of his friends weren’t worth his “worthless game” has come true.  Beyond that even, the lives of every one of Levi’s comrades that he allowed to be sacrificed per Erwin’s orders, has suddenly lost it’s purpose.  Suddenly, all those lives that Levi held himself back from protecting because they needed to be sacrificed to achieve the higher goal of humanity’s salvation, has been rendered meaningless, their death’s rendered pointless.  And as is demonstrated again and again throughout the story, nothing is more horrific to Levi than a meaningless death, a pointless loss of life.  

So here we see Levi’s true sense of betrayal, when he discovers Erwin’s true motivation.  It’s not just that Erwin lied to him, it’s that Erwin convinced Levi that the goal of the Survey Corps, the salvation of humanity, was worth the sacrifice of his fellow soldiers lives, and now Levi discovers that none of those lives were sacrificed for any such noble cause, but rather a petty and selfish one, and that Levi himself helped facilitate those deaths by choosing to follow a man with loyal dedication because he believed in him and his vision so completely.  The sense of guilt Levi must have felt, himself, upon discovering Erwin’s true motives, must have been overwhelming.  

Further, it must have reignited Levi’s own struggle with believing the sacrifices of his fellow soldiers lives were worth it, even IF the goal was the salvation of humanity.  He trusted in Erwin’s words, but it turned out Erwin lied about his true goal, and this in turn must have also caused Levi to doubt whether what Erwin said about the worth of sacrificing their lives for humanity’s freedom was even true.  Whether it was really the right decision for any of them, to have given up on all their dreams and hopes, and to put their lives on the line, in the first place, even if they’d been fighting for something as noble, but also as distant, as a better world.  

This struggle and conflict in Levi is never more evident than during the final arc of SnK, in which he openly wears an expression of heartbreaking grief and despair, as he has to watch more and more of his comrades lose their lives, and indeed, all of humanity lose their lives.  

It all truly goes against everything Levi believes in, which is that people’s lives have value, and are worth something, and that they deserve to be preserved, and yet he’s put into a position again and again of having to watch people’s lives be snuffed out, whether by choice, in the case of his comrades sacrificing themselves for a greater good, or not by choice, people being killed just due to the circumstances of war.  

I said in my post from last night that if it were up to Levi, I don’t think he would ever choose to place the people he cares about in harms way.  I think he would do everything in his power to keep them out of combat situations, or any situation which could endanger their lives, and he would want them to simply just live long and happy and safe lives, in which they get to realize their hopes and dreams.  But because it isn’t up to Levi, because the people he is close to and cares about have THEMSELVES chosen this path of self-sacrifice, he instead does the only thing he can, which is to try and protect them and keep them alive.  This is one of the reasons Levi takes action, takes initiative more quickly than anyone else, why he never hesitates.  Because if it means defending the lives of his friends and comrades, he’ll do whatever it takes, including bloodying his own hands, without thought spared for himself or the toll of it on him.

But of course, his dedication to that runs into direct conflict with his dedication to Erwin and the goal of the SC, which is to achieve humanity’s freedom, and Levi often is forced to choose between the two, often having to give up on his personal desire to save individual lives in order to achieve the higher cause of saving the human race.

Thinking about this in the context of Levi’s discovery about Erwin especially hurts, because it really underlines just how deep a sense of betrayal it had to have caused in Levi, to know he’s set aside his own need and want to help people, and allowed so many of his comrades to die for a cause which he now knows wasn’t, in fact, worth it.  

Of course, Erwin then gives up his selfish dream and rededicates himself to the higher goal of humanity’s salvation, and that allows Levi to continue fighting at his side and to follow his orders.  But it throws Levi’s feelings about Erwin’s and the other Scouts charge at the Beast Titan into greater relief, because he’s just gone through a period of extreme doubt and turmoil as to the meaning, as to the point of all the lives he’s had to see sacrificed during his years in the SC, and now, here, again, he’s having to allow more lives still to be given, unable to intervene or protect them because it’s necessary in order to keep the hope for humanity alive.  

We see how hard Levi takes every death of every soldier both under his command and not, throughout the story.  We see it with his own squad after he discovers their bodies in the forest, we see it with Niffa, after Kenny kills her, we see it with the soldiers in Shinganshina, and Erwin, we see it with his men in the forest after Zeke turns them into Titans, we see it with Hange, etc...  He takes all of their deaths so deeply to heart, because Levi is such a deeply caring and compassionate man, who sees great value in the lives of all people.  And honestly, that makes his willingness to fight for and defend their dreams and choices, even when those dreams and choices endanger their very lives, all the more remarkable, precisely because it’s so hard for him, precisely because he doesn’t WANT to let them sacrifice themselves, he wants to protect them.  Precisely because, each time one of them loses their lives, it takes something vital out of Levi himself.  He suffers the weight of their loss at his core.  It HURTS him.  To support their choices, their dreams and ambitions and goals, Levi is then an active participant in causing himself pain, and yet still, he does it, and that really is the definition of a selfless hero.  He knows the price he’ll have to pay, the toll on himself for putting aside his own desire to protect and save all of them, and he does it anyway, for them, and for humanity.  

But as determinedly as Levi tries never to regret his choices, I think it’s clear he struggles immensely with doing so, because he’s never certain as to whether any of it is worth it.  He wants so much to protect the lives of those he loves and cares for, and wants so much, also, to fight for and help them realize their dreams.  He went to the surface with Furlan and Isabel exactly for this reason, because their dream was to live up above, all while going against his own wish to simply stay in the Underground and take care of them.  And he ended up losing them because of it, the same as he ended up losing so many other friends and comrades, because of fighting for their dream of a world free from Titans.  

This constant conflict, this constant pull back and forth within Levi, between wanting to protect and preserve the lives of those he cares for, and wanting to support and defend and fight for their dreams, is an aspect of his character which is, I think, deeply tragic.  

It’s like he can’t win for losing.  

[stormyoceansmain]

[im very much NOT a writer - i cannot stress this enough - but i truly mean it when i say sambucky is making me go insane. i find no other explanation for ending up writing 3.8k words of sambucky, alpine, and movie night. thank you if you decide to read this, i hope it's not too terrible]

Sam shows up at Bucky’s place for movie night with a case full of beers and ten minutes to spare.

Sarah makes fun of him for this Friday tradition they’ve been carrying out for the past few months, says he should just muster the courage to ask Bucky out on a proper date already. It doesn't matter how many times Sam told her he is just helping Bucky catch up to the 21st century, she always ends up giving him that Look that says she's not believing any words coming out of his mouth, which is kind of unfair, if you ask Sam.

Well, fine, maybe Sarah is right. Maybe Sam does want to take Bucky out on an actual date and hold his hand and kiss him goodnight and do all those sickeningly romantic stuff he used to daydream about when he was 16. Turns out former assassins who are incredibly annoying but also surprisingly kind are very much Sam's type. Go figure.

Still, they worked hard to reach the kind of friendship they currently have, and Sam doesn't want to lose that. He's also not blind to the way Bucky flirts with Sarah, and despite her insistence that Bucky does it more to rile Sam up than for any real interest in her, he’s not about to risk it all on a whim.

This resolution almost crumbles into dust a moment later, when Bucky opens the door wearing sweatpants and a blue shirt that matches his eyes. He is barefoot and his hair is getting longer, losing the harsh edges of the cut and curling slightly behind his ears. He is still all chiseled jawline and defined muscles, but he looks softer, more comfortable in his own skin, and the easy way he smiles at Sam makes a heavy warmth pool around Sam’s stomach.

“Hey,” Bucky greets him, sliding his metal arm around Sam's shoulders to pull him into a brief hug.

This, too, is something of a novelty. There's always been a sort of intense physicality about Bucky, both in how he carries himself and in how he is always aware of the bodies moving around him, but the casual affection, the playful abandon with which he touches and lets others touch him these days, feels like a wonder. Sam would have never expected it, and he had come to love and hate it at the same time.

“Hey yourself,” Sam greets back, splaying his free hand across Bucky's back, allowing himself to hold him there and breathe him in for a second, a fresh lemony smell coming off his hair, before giving him a quick pat on the shoulder and putting a respectable amount of space between them.

He buries his hands deep into the pocket of his jacket and follows Bucky inside, trying to resist the urge to slide his fingers under the hem of Bucky's shirt and feel the warm skin underneath it.

It's the first time Sam steps into Bucky’s apartment since Bucky took home the stray kitten he found on the side of the road three weeks ago, and the changes around it are staggering. Sam was used to empty spaces and few, essential furniture, but now the space in front of the window is occupied by a giant cat tower, and lots of smaller scratching posts are scattered all over the living room, along with different kinds of cat beds and toys.

“I see you redecorated,” Sam says with a grin.

Bucky shrugs, opening two of the beer bottles with a quick twist of his metal hand. “Cats need stuff.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad.” Sam grabs one of the bottle and clinks it against Bucky's. “Pets are great company and the place looks much better like this. I wouldn't have pinned you down as the crazy cat lady type, but it's always better than Robocop.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, takes a sip of his beer. Sam catches the smile he is trying to hide anyway.

Sam knocks their shoulders together, asks, “So where is she?”

“Hiding, probably,” Bucky says, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “She doesn't like strangers.”

Sam stops with the beer halfway to his mouth. “Excuse you,” he exclaims, outraged. “I very clearly remember accompanying you to the vet the first time you brought her in. I also sacrificed two of my shirts for her and have scars on my forearms where she scratched me to death. I think I deserve more than being considered a stranger. We basically co-parented that cat for the first few days!”

“That's nice,” Bucky deadpans. “Why don't you go tell her that? I'm sure the speech will convince her to keep the claws to herself.”

Sam glares at him and Bucky pats him on the arm. “Just relax,” he adds, turning to open the fridge and taking foods out for dinner. “If we let her be, Alpine will come out eventually.”

Bucky is right, of course. Sam had a few experiences with strays growing up, cats and dogs alike looking for shelter from Louisiana's storms under their porch, and no amount of treats he and Sarah tried to give them had been able to lure them out from their hiding spot. The best course of action in these cases was to wait, letting them come out when they felt safe enough.

It still weirdly feels like a rejection of some sort, but he tries not to let it show.

Sam takes a swig from his beer and asks, “Alpine?”

Bucky turns on the stove and shrugs again. He remains silent for a moment, a distant look on his face that Sam has learned to associate to memories better buried and forgotten. He is about to start telling Bucky about the science fair at the boys' school to change the subject, when Bucky speaks again, low and careful.

“She reminds me of the snow on the Alps.”

He doesn't elaborate on that, but Sam nods anyway, like he understands. He doesn't, like Bucky will never be able to fully understand what it means for Sam to carry the shield, but it's okay. They have each other, and that's still something.

Sam taps his foot against Bucky's bare one, watches Bucky's entire being exhale and relax. “Couldn't you have named her Snowflakes or something like that?”

Bucky levels him with a stare that tells him he would rather jump off another plane rather than calling his cat ‘Snowflakes’, and Sam laughs.

The far off look in Bucky’s eyes melts away and they fall into an easy rhythm, Sam sitting at the kitchen table and talking about some renovations he and Sarah would like to do to the house, Bucky cutting the vegetables to sauté.

They have moved on to argue about the best way to season chicken breasts – you cannot leave cayenne pepper out of the spice blend – when Sam catches a flash of white out of the corner of his eyes, and interrupts himself mid-rant.

A second later, Alpine jumps on the kitchen counter, sniffing the air.

It's been only three weeks since Sam last saw her, but she's already grown a lot, and looks much better too: her fur is shiny and clean, her eyes bright, and the slight sprain that caused her to limp around seems to be completely healed.

Alpine lets out a soft chirping sound and headbutts Bucky's arm, rubbing her head against him.

The smile Bucky turns to her is blinding, and Sam has to look away before he ends up doing something stupid, like climb over the table and kiss him.

“I know you're here for the chicken,” Bucky tells her, scratching her behind the ears. “But you can't eat this one.”

He scoops her up with a single hand, ignoring the disapproving meow that follows, and deposits her on the table right next to Sam's arm. Sam freezes, unprepared for the sudden proximity and recalling how quickly she can turn around and scratch, but as soon as Bucky's hand retreats, she is moving away, giving Sam a wide berth. She doesn't go back into hiding, though, just settles on the corner farther away from him and stares him down in a way that reminds him so much of Bucky, Sam doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry.

He is also struck by the sudden need to make Alpine like him.

“Is she gonna maul me if I try to give her a treat?” Sam asks.

Bucky tilts his head, considering, which does very little to reassure Sam about the safety of his fingers.

“I wouldn’t try hand-feeding her,” Bucky answers, fishing out a bag of treats from one of the cupboards. “But she likes to chase them.”

Alpine observes with quiet intensity as Bucky dumps a few treats into Sam's hands, and when Sam tosses one a few feet away she jumps down the table and runs after it, grabs it with a paw.

“Alright,” Sam declares, “that's pretty cute.”

Sam spends the next few minutes throwing treats at Alpine, inching them closer and closer to himself to test how willing she is to get near him with the proper incentive. The last one he places right in front of his feet, then he sits back and waits. Alpine hesitates, eyes flitting between him and the treat as to evaluate if it's safe enough, until finally she starts to move, slowly, slowly. She gets close enough to stretch her paw out, pull the treat towards herself and take it out of reach to eat somewhere else. Sam still takes it as a win.

Bucky clears his throat and announces that dinner is ready, so Sam leaves Alpine alone and helps him set the table.

Dinner is nice. Bucky makes a glazed chicken with honey and garlic that it's to die for, which Sam finds utterly unfair, considering he comes from a time where spices were believed to be a menace to the public.

He still goes back for seconds, and by the time they move to the living room to watch the movie, Sam feels full and content.

He finds Alpine curled up on one end of the couch, and while he believes they made some progress in their relationship, he doesn’t think either of them is ready to bring it to the next level, so he takes the seat on the other side, careful not to disturb her.

Bucky doesn’t say anything about it, just flops down between Sam and the cat with ease, his knee bumping into Sam’s.

This week they are watching the second movie in The Hobbit trilogy, if only for the horrified look in Bucky’s face when Sam told him that not only they made a movie out of the book, but that they actually managed to stretch it into three. Bucky, it turns out, is one of those people who notices every little changes from the original material, disapproves of them on principle, and is very vocal about his displeasure, exactly like the old man he actually is.

Sam had almost fell off the couch laughing during the first movie, and it had taken him a while to convince Bucky to give the other two a chance. Maybe it was a little assholey of him, knowing that it only gets worse, but just because he likes the guy it doesn’t mean Sam doesn’t want to subject him to some bad cinema for his own entertainment. After all, that’s what friends are for.

It doesn't take long for the comments to start up again. Bucky holds up for thirty minutes, rolling his eyes and grumbling under his breath from time to time, but then Legolas and Tauriel show up and Bucky turns his head to look at Sam, face completely blank, says, “Who the fuck are these people.”

Sam bursts out laughing, and it only gets worse when they reach the scene between Kili and Tauriel in the Woodland Realm: Bucky throws his hands up, exclaims, “Oh, come on,” and starts complaining about how they made the dwarf hot just to add a romance. It has Sam in stitches, and he has to grab onto Bucky's shoulder to stay upright and not end up falling into Bucky's lap.

The tirade ends with Bucky sulking and shaking his head, and Sam is glad for the temporary reprieve just so he can catch his breath. He feels flushed and warm, cheeks hurting from smiling, and the quiet is comfortable, familiar.

After a while, his eyes grow heavy, and he realizes he nodded off only when a light weight sets on his shoulder, jerking him awake.

The movie has ended, screen back on the Netflix title page, and Bucky fell asleep as well, head drooping until it had come to rest against Sam’s body.

The metal arm is glinting gold and blue in the light, and Sam stares down at it, then up at the lines of Bucky’s face, the soft waves of his hair. It always surprises him how vulnerable Bucky looks like this, how younger, and it’s so hard to remember there was a time Sam had actually been scared of him, of what he could do. Now, he would trust Bucky with anything. His life, his family, his home. His heart, too, if Bucky ever wanted it.

Sam knows he should wake him up, send him to bed so he can sleep comfortably there while Sam stretches out on the couch, but he also knows that Bucky still has trouble sleeping sometimes, and Sam doesn't have the heart to wake him up if it isn't really necessary. He’s well aware it's also a little bit selfish, because it's nice, having Bucky this close, warm and solid and smelling of lemon.

Sam takes a deep breath and rests his head on top of Bucky's. He thought he could handle this thing he has for Bucky, keep it under control, but he’s starting to realize he might have actually underestimated the size of his own feelings, which could become a serious problem in the future.

For now, though, Sam closes his eyes and lets himself have this.

The next time Sam wakes up, it's to something walking all over him. He blinks against the sudden light and when his vision clears, he finds Alpine sitting on his lap.

Sam stares at her, wondering for a moment if he is still asleep and dreaming all of this up, but his neck is sore, his arm heavy from Bucky resting against it in his sleep; there’s the beginning of a headache pulsing behind is eyes, and a pressure in his bladder telling him he should probably get up.

Alpine sniffs at his shirt and Sam tentatively raises his free hand, strokes a finger between her ears. She leans into the touch, head tilting up and guiding Sam's hand under her chin. Sam tries really hard not to shriek with delight.

“Oh, you're a sweetheart,” he says, a grin spreading out across his face. “Just like your owner. All tough and fierce on the outside, but adorable and charming on the inside.”

Alpine meows back at him, like she agrees with that statement, and Sam tenses up, glances at the steady rise and fall of Bucky's chest.

“We gotta be quiet,” he tells Alpine, petting her down her side. “We don't want to wake him up.”

“I'm already awake,” comes Bucky's voice next to him.

Sam's entire body jerks in surprise, and Alpine leaps off him, startled.

“Man, don't you do that ever again,” Sam says, a hand placed over his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky hums, sounding way more amused than he has any right to be, and sits up.

Blood rushes back into Sam's arm, and while Sam is glad to start feeling it again, he's already mourning the loss of contact between them. Except Bucky doesn't go far, just adjusts his position to angle his body towards Sam and rest his head on the back of the couch. It's easier to look at each other, like this, but they are now so close that Bucky's soft breaths are hitting the exposed line of skin above Sam's shirt, the hollow of his neck, making him shiver.

“So,” Bucky says, dragging the word out, lips tilting up at the corner. “I'm adorable and charming?”

Shit.

Of course Bucky would hear that, that's just Sam's luck. God, he is never going to speak again. He will take a vow of silence like in one of those monastic orders and move some place far and secluded where he won't be able to embarrass himself anymore.

He swallows, makes himself let out a laugh. It's meant to be mocking, but it sounds more nervous than anything else. “I think old age is making you hear things,” Sam still tries to deflect, “I clearly said annoying and self-centered.”

Bucky jabs him in the side with a metal finger. “Nice try, Samuel,” Bucky says, grinning widely. “But I've been told I'm a sweetheart.”

Sam's cheeks heat up. “I was talking about Alpine!”

He wonders if maybe T'Challa would let him hide in Wakanda for a while, just long enough for Sam to regain some kind of dignity. He hopes against all hopes that Bucky will have mercy of him and drop the subject, but of course Bucky doesn't. Sam wouldn't either, if their roles were switched.

“You said she is like her owner,” Bucky points pout, eyes bright and so very blue. He pokes Sam in the ribs again. “Which means, you think I’m a sweetheart, too.”

Sam bats his hand away. He may have embarrassed himself and he's lucky if he ends up this night without Bucky realizing Sam has feelings for him, but he is Captain frigging America. If he has to go down, he will go down fighting.

“What you are, it’s a nuisance,” Sam says. “And a creep. Who the hell pretends to be asleep when they are actually awake?”

“I wasn't pretending, you just assumed I was still sleeping.”

“Anyone would assume that, if you don't say anything.”

“I thought you were going to move as soon as you woke up, it's not my fault you didn't.”

“I was trapped between your heavy ass and your cat. What's your excuse for not moving?”

The argument comes to a halt, an awkward silence stretching between them as Bucky lowers his eyes, scratches the back of his neck. He clears his throat, shrugs.

“Your shoulder is nice,” he says in the end.

It's Bucky's turn to blush, a darker pink dusting his cheeks, and Sam feels like he missed something important.

“My shoulder?” Sam repeats.

Bucky doesn't answer him for a moment, then he straightens up on the couch, rolls back his shoulders like he is bracing himself. He looks up at Sam, and all Sam can see are his eyes.

“It’s comfortable,” Bucky whispers. “And I always sleep better when you’re around.”

Sam's mouth is suddenly very dry, and his heart is drumming against his chest in a way he has come to associate with diving down in midair, or dropping from a high place before his wings open up. This, too, feels a little like falling.

“Buck,” Sam says, because he thinks they are on the verge of something here, but he needs to be sure, doesn't want to mess this up and do something he's going to regret just because his head wants so desperately to see what's not actually there. “You gotta tell me if I'm reading this wro--”

Bucky kisses him.

It's a short kiss, just a soft press of Bucky's lips against his own and he's already gone, moving back to look at Sam with wide eyes, face open and vulnerable.

“Okay?” Bucky asks, and if he didn't sound so uncertain, like he's expecting Sam to push him away at any moment, Sam would laugh at how much of an idiot they both are.

Instead, he holds Bucky's chin between his fingers and pulls him back in. The kiss is deeper this time, turns into a wet slide of tongues and a harsh grate of stubble that makes Sam's insides feel tangled and hot. Bucky's arm slides around Sam's waist, and Sam moves his hand from Bucky's chin into his hair, grips it in a way that makes Bucky exhale sharply into his mouth. Sam wants to touch him everywhere, and he moves his free hand to do just that when a long, loud meow interrupts them.

They break apart just in time for Alpine to jump on the couch and sprawl in the space between them.

Bucky huffs out a small laugh, pets her from head to tail. He looks lovely, with his hair sticking up in odd places from Sam's fingers raking through it, his lips red from kissing, and Sam itches to go back for more, to lay him down and map every single part of Bucky's body with his mouth. He has, however, a horrible feeling about this.

“We will never be able to do anything with her around, won't we?” Sam asks, voicing his thoughts out loud.

Bucky sends him an amused smile. “Someone feels confident.”

Sam rolls his eyes, bumps their knees together. “Says the one who was about to climb on top of me.”

He's pretty sure he was the one grabbing and pulling Bucky closer, actually, but it doesn't seem like Bucky is going to call him out on it.

“It was a good kiss,” Bucky says, smile going soft at the edges, turning shyer.

“It really was,” Sam agrees, and because Sarah is always right, even if he'll never admit it in front of her, he adds, “Wanna go out on a proper dinner, see a movie? Maybe do the kissing part again?”

He's not expecting the way Bucky's lips drop down at those words, and Sam's heart sinks. Maybe he did read this wrong, after all. Maybe Bucky wanted to keep things casual, no string attached, and Sam just ruined everything. He tries to tell himself it was better to know that now, before things got too serious on his side, but it gives him very little comfort.

Bucky takes a deep breath, lets it out in a huff. “I don’t know, man,” he says. “If you make me watch another one of these godawful movies I’m afraid I'm gonna have to break up with you before this relationship even starts.”

Sam blinks at him, then bursts out laughing, sudden and loud. “God, you're an asshole,” he declares, but there's no heat behind it, and when he searches for Bucky's hand, Bucky intertwines their fingers together, places a kiss on the back of Sam's hand as an apology.

“I’m lucky you have terrible tastes, then,” Bucky says.

Sam really has questionable tastes, and if you had told him a few years ago that this was how his life was going to turn out, he would have probably laughed, or worse, tried to stop it from happening. But now, sitting there with Bucky grinning at him and Alpine purring between them, he feels lucky too.

[troublesometrollhunters]

Yandere GreenKnight

~ Arthur has lost everything. His Kingdom, His Subjects, His friends, Morgana, and Guienvere. So much has been taken from him after he sacrificed everything to protect what he loves. He cannot loose you. He refuses to loose you after all he's been through.

~ After the battle of Killahead he wakes up confused. Something in him feels off... Something is lost. When the Order greets him he remembers you and demands to know where you are before he agrees to anything. They promise your alive and well and when this war is won he will see his beloved again. He can't have Guienvere but he can have you.

~ Something is missing and he doesn't know what. He has seen himself without his armor on and he hates how he looks now so he hides under his mask. Guilt, shame, remorse, and anger keep him awake at night as he follows the Order obeying their commands. If he just follows them a little longer he will have you. You must be what he's missing. You must be what can fix him.

~ While working under the Order he learns something he never could have expected. Magic flows through you as ancient and old as the Order itself but your unable to use it, it simply lays within you dormant. Merlin knew but never said anything. His most trusted advisor never told him anything. For weeks Arthur goes into a rage and the Order does not disturb him as he screams into the night tearing down trees and destroying acres of randim land.

~ When he comes out of his haze the Order inform him you and Merlins champion have been found and soon they'll all have what he desired. Alone one night staring at the broken Excalibur hes thinking of you and how it'll feel to hold you in his arms again. He never realised how much time had past since waking up but now he knows its been centuries. You've been alive and alone and probably confused for Centuries. You need him and he needs you.

~ You survived the Fall of Camelot despite not having access to you powers and since then you have been living your life as an immortal being. You never get sick and you haven't aged, you've simply been moving from place to place avoiding suspicion. The Order have found statues, portraits, pictutes, and article's of you spread over the centuries. Using your poorly hidden past to track you now. Arthur treasures these things in his room, no one else would look for it, look for your face repeated over and over but he would. Surrounding himself by your visage calms him and he hopes when he takes you home you will appreciate all he has done.

~ You settled in America a few hundred years ago before moving to Arcadia about the time Merlins new champion was picked and now you stand with him and the other Trollhunters.

~ Arthur feels overwhelming joy knowing you'll be found soon but blistering fury knowing you side with those against him. He believes your brainwashed or being tricked or manuiplated and makes it his life's mission to hurt the Trollhunter and show you how wrong you've been. Merlin was a fool and Arthur never should have allowed him or his magic to infect his people and his family.

~ King Arthur may not be the man he once was but he is still a warrior as well as a ruler. He may not have his kingdom but someday with you he will rebuild it. He has lived a long life and he has suffered through countless tradegies. He's only more intelligent and stronger than when you met last. When the time comes he will take you and there will be nothing you can do to stop him. With the Order on his side Arthur wants the world to burn so he may rise from the ashes with you.

~ He is deluded having gone completely insane from the corrupted resurrection and the Orders influence. He only has his anger and you to drive him and these goals have driven him to madness. Arthur loves you he does but he no longer knows what love is. He promised once he has you he will keep you safe from the world and you will rule when it restarts but he does not understand the horror of his words or the complete control he wants over you. Times have changed, you have changed. And so has Arthur, but not for the better.

~ When he first sees you again he is enamored. You are still as firey and beautiful as you once were but your also different. Years of being alone have changed you. They've made you become a better person, and now you are who you are, and Arthur was not there to witness it. He doesn't know you anymore but he thinks he does.

~ He boils in rage watching you fight with Merlins champion against his magically created allies. It was the child who took you away. The amulet in all it's forsaken glory! Merlin had made the Hunter go after you and now they were psoisoning your mind. He wouldn't have it!!!

~ You fight against the magic minions the Order sent and you are a force to be reckoned with. You may stand with his enemies but when he takes you all will be forgiven. Your simply confused. You've been tricked to fight on the wrong side of the war but he will show you the true way and with him no harm shall ever befall you again.

~ In the heat of battle he steals you away. Merlins champion is busy fighting a different minion and the trolls you've aligned yourselves don't see as he takes you. You may still in his arms and he tenderly cups your cheek, taking off his helmet and mask to steal a kiss.

~ As you sleep in his arms he holds you close not believing your with him. He has plans on what he'll do to Merlin, the boy, and the mage but for now he holds you tightly eyes shut as he presses you to his chest. You are with him. Nothing is wrong. He is whole... even if a tiny voice in his head tells him he's not, craddling you he knows he is.

[rmg91]

Zoe Week; Day 5-ROTT

So I know we got given a free day considered ROTT was...what it was but I decided to still go with the prompt and it turned into more of a small rewrite than just a ‘Let’s slip Zoe into this scene’. Zoe is everyone’s braincell and we know it.

Also I tried writing a fight scene....I donno how well it turned out lol

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

“He WHAT?!”

Zoe stared at the assembled guardians, the kids, that had gone up against the demigods bent on restarting the world with that crazy plan to strip them of their powers, only for it to fail. Yes, they were alive. Yes, they had Nari, in spirit, but the Arcane Order had her body, had Douxie, and that was not okay for her! That stupid, self-sacrificing idiot! Of course he'd do something like that! But all it would do would buy them time and just what was going to happen when those power hungry beings found out?! It wasn't going to be good, that was for sure and now Zoe had to hatch a plan to try and save her idiot before something bad happened.

Ignoring the overlapping explanations and assurances they'd come up with a plan, Zoe marched her way out of the ex-throne room and down to what was becoming her studio. Shuffling around the various tomes and grimoires, she searched for the one she was certain had the spell she needed to find him, growling to herself when she couldn't. This is what she got for not sorting through all these yet. Finally, just when she'd been about to say 'fuck it' and do it without the book, she dug up the dusty purple codex of scrying and grinned in victory. Oh, she was finding that idiot of hers and then she was going to give him a piece of her mind once he was safe.

Coming back upstairs, the pinked haired witch flipped through the book, looking for the magic circle that would allow her to find Douxie. Ignoring everyone's voices, she quickly read through the directions, reminding herself how it worked and set to etching runes in the air with her wand. The symbols of power fell to the floor in sparking pink power, forming the necessary element for her spell. “Nari.” She called, “I'm gonna need Archie for a moment.”

The little nature spirit, inhabiting her partners body, let his familiar go from her hold as she finished the magic circle, sending the tomb to rest on the floor outside it. Sitting in the center, Archie crawled into her lap in dragon form, already having a feeling on what she was going to try to do. Normally she could sense Douxie's power, they'd known each other for so after all it was easy, but between distance and most likely being blocked, she couldn't without help. It would be easier if their magic was bonded, tied together for the rest of eternity and the ultimate sign of trust and love between magic users but...they weren't. Not for lack of wanting to but their lives had been pretty hectic and dangerous and bonding their magic came with lots of consequences as well as benefits. If one of them died...it would be the worse kind of hell on the other. And as much as they loved each other they hadn't wanted to have the other suffer so. But maybe, after all this, they'd change that.

“Uh..what are you gonna do?” Toby asked, standing near as he watched the pulsing pink runes.

“I'm going to track Douxie using the bond between him and Archie.” She explained, holding the dragon-cat gently, one hand scratching between his ears, “It should, in theory, help me find where the Order is holding him.” Then they would retrieve him and she was going to kick his ass for putting himself in danger, again.

Everyone took that as the queue to be quiet, to let her work, and Zoe breathed in deeply, letting her magic seep out and take shape. The circle glowed as she let herself fall into a trance, focusing on Archie, who was relaxed in her lap, his own magic open to letting hers in. She found the bond, a shining string of magic that was warm, comforting, powerful, reaching out beyond their little space in search of their missing wizard. She followed it as it swirled, twisting and turning through the space between, searching, searching, searching until-There! It sung brightly, tightening like a perfectly tuned guitar string and humming with life and she knew in that moment just where to find him.

Opening her eyes, a pink glow encompassing them, she grinned sharply. The Order didn't know what was coming to them.

~*~*~*~

The group entered the abandoned train tunnel, sans one Trollhunter, looking for any sign of the Order or Douxie. Zoe knew she had been harsh when she told Jim he needed to stay behind but she was not going to take back what she said. He was injured and therefore a liability and she wasn't going to let him kill himself or any of his friends if things were to go pear shaped. But hopefully they wouldn't and they'd be able to rescue Douxie with minimal trouble.

Her blue eyes roamed over the various crates and scaffolding, sensing him near but unable to see him. But she just knew he was here. Even as the group spread out and looked around old, crumbling crates and rusty metal drums, confused as to why they couldn't find anyone, Zoe was reaching out with her magic, searching for her wayward husband. Frowning down at the tracks, something just wasn't sitting right with her, she tried her best to see and think like Douxie would. There had to be something here she was missing...

She blinked, a thought coming suddenly and could it really be that easy?

Trotting up a staircase to get higher ground, she looked down at the tracks, shaking her head lightly because for some eon's old beings, Skrael and Bellroc really couldn't be original? “Their hiding in plain sight!” She shouted to assembled guardians, flicking her wand out and rearranging the train tracks, “They've made a giant sigil with the tracks!” The tracks moved, soon lighting up and dispelling the room around them, revealing a much darker room and three beings in the center.

She wasn't sure if they were aware they weren't alone anymore but it looked as if the demigods of ice and fire were taunting who they thought were Nari. She, or rather Douxie, was hovering in the air, held aloft by his hands in glowing magic and maybe, possibly keeping quiet as to continuing fooling the gods. But then, as they were staring confusedly as the Genius Seals, wondering why they weren't opening, he opened his big fat mouth.

“Abracadabra, Buttsnacks.”

Zoe groaned, because why had he said that?! But before the Order could do more than threaten him, she raised her wand high and cried, “Hey! Hands off!” She then sent a bolt of pink lighting down, just barely hitting Skreal, and then it was on!

Everyone jumped into action, firing and fighting the two remaining members of the Order. Zoe jumped down, joining the fray, firing spells and shields as she made way to Nari's body. She was put to a stop though as the icy wizard floated in front of her, brandishing his staff. Oh, if he wanted a fight, he was getting a fight. Ignoring Douxie's strained call of her name, the hedge-witch ducked a swing of the staff, dodging to the right and not giving in to Skreal's taunting. Hedge-witch or not, didn't mean she wasn't powerful and she wasn't about to let these bastards win.

Zoe fired spell after spell, wildly missing the floating god as he chuckled darkly at her. But that was okay, all part of the plan because when he least expect it she smirked and performed a round-house kick, planting her foot below his belt with a cry of “Rule Number Three!!”

As Skrael crumpled, she turned back to Douxie in Nari's body, running closer and hoping she could break the spell keeping him in the air. Fire had started to burn everywhere, the old wood catching easily to the spells Bellroc fired off but she ignored all that as she examined the magic around Douxie's wrists. She shushed him as he tried to talk to her, needing to concentrate on what she was doing, hopefully she wouldn't need Claire's help. Then a dark chuckle came from behind her.

“You won't break him free.” She turned to glare at Bellroc, their ever fluctuating voice grating on her nerves, “That magic is too powerful for even a full fledged wizard, let alone a little hedge-witch.” She growled as they laughed at her. And maybe she wouldn't be able to break it herself but if she could break this beings concentration... A wicked grin came to her face, feral as she remembered the chaos she'd wrecked at Killahead, and she began drawing runes behind her back.

“You're right...Guess I'll just have to make you break it.”

And with a flash of pink, twenty more Zoe's surrounded the demigod.

Crying out, Bellroc began to blast away her clones, easily poofing them from existence, which was fine as it was only meant as a distraction. The real Zoe dodged behind him, thankful for the rest of the crew keeping Skrael busy as she charged her magic. She'd only have one shot at this and she hoped it worked. It had been a while since she last did this. Bringing her now brightly flashing hands together, she drew them apart, a glowing, sparking, pink arrow held between them.

“Foolish girl! This won't defeat me!!” Bellroc cried with rage, dispelling the last of her clones.

“It's not meant to!” She yelled back before firing the arrow, sending a million volts through the wizard and causing them to spasm. And it was enough, for the spell holding Douxie up sputtered and died, dropping him to the floor. Zoe dived for his staggering form as Bellroc cried out again, pushing him out of the way of a blast of fire. Of course now she needed a plan to get them out of there...

Just as the fire god was approaching, already up from her attack and ready to end her life, a black portal formed beneath her and Douxie and they dropped away.

~*~*~*~

Zoe groaned as she was dropped onto the floor of Camelot, rolling onto her back. That had been...something. She really needed to practice that attack again, it took far too much out of her but at least now Douxie was safe. And Nari. She heard the rest of the guardians tumble in, shouts from their assembled allies rising and still she laid there, catching her breath.

“Zoe! Zoe, are you alright?!” She looked up at Douxie's voice, finding Nari's face above her looking at her with concern and they were needed to change back because this was just getting too weird. She watched him sag with relief, most likely due to her opening her eyes and he sighed, “You were nuclear, Love.”

“You better switch back before you kiss me, Casperan.” Was her only response.

Chuckling breathlessly, he nodded and she watched him hold out his hand for Nari to take, the goddess now crouching on her other side. A flash of magic and she was then being pulled into Douxie's lap, the wizard now back in his body. She let him nuzzle his face into her neck, still recovering from the adrenaline and almost overuse of her magic as they sat there, friends and allies all around.

“Thank you, Zoe.” Nari said softly, sitting primly in front of her, “You risked so much.”

“It's fine, Nari,” Zoe said, smiling at the forest child, “There was no way I was letting them keep your body and Douxie's mind.” Let alone risk the possibility of them forcing the two back into their proper bodies. Then they really would have been in trouble.

“So what do you do now?” She heard Claire ask because now they were back at square one. Keep Nari out of the grasp.

“I donno,” Zoe sighed, “But the important thing is the Order doesn't have Nari anymore.”

“That's not all they don't have..” The nature goddess smirked shyly before holding up the Genius Seals.

Zoe's eyes widen as cries went up around her, Douxie laughing in surprise, before she grinned wide and shark like. Oh, things were about to get interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~

How the rest of the movie would play out from here I have no idea but there’s some choice Zouxie protecting each other/Nari/Archie so...there’s that. I hope you all enjoyed!

[nct-oli]

IPYTM EP 4

I just feel like saying all of my IPYTM ep 4 thoughts now that I watched the episode, before I read any other posts on here. Raw thoughts minutes after closing the episode.

I feel like I need to say this first. I do not agree with Oh reading Teh’s logbook and invading his privacy, but I do appreciate that he told him later that he did. I also do not like the hitting Teh with the bouquet. Okay, just wanted to get that out of the way.

TEH (AND JAI)

I’m still mad at Teh. I do not forgive him. But I do want to say that Jai is a piece of shit for manipulating Teh the way he did. This episode made it so clear to me how Jai used what Teh wrote in that logbook to his gain, recognizing how vulnerable Teh was and seeing how weak his relationship with Oh-Aew had gotten and using that to his benefit.

Now honestly, I can’t tell if that truly was his plan from the start or if he saw the way Teh had fallen for him and what happened with Oh and decided to say that it was never real in an attempt to stop it as soon as possible.

Regardless, if he was a good friend as well as a good director, Jai would never have used Teh’s broken relationship the way he did. He could have tried to help Teh rekindle things with Oh, work through some of his fears and anxieties that were keeping him from feeling close to his boyfriend. That very likely could have solved both problems–Teh’s relationship issues and his acting barrier–but instead, Jai manipulated Teh’s feelings.

However, I’m not letting Teh off that easily either. There was a moment when I actually did feel a little bad for him, when I started to recognize how Jai was using him and playing with his feelings. And when Teh and Oh started doing a little better, I allowed myself to think that maybe they could figure it out with more communication.

But no, Teh wandered off at the after party to see Jai, and any tiny flicker of forgiveness I felt went out the door. The way he showed no genuine guilt or shame with Oh too made me honestly sick. Like Oh said, did he think he was stupid? Did Teh think he was being subtle? It gave me secondhand embarrassment to see him believe he was being anything except disgustingly obvious about what was going on.

And then for him to call Jai the Fang to his Akin, with his too-forgiving boyfriend sitting in the other room?? Again, do you have no shame, Teh???

Also, the way Jai and Teh both gaslit Oh-Aew, trying to make him think he was overreacting and overthinking when both of them knew Teh’s feelings were not just the result of his great acting. That the kiss was never just an exercise (at least from Teh’s side, which is the side that mattered most). Watching them both lie to Oh’s face like that lit a rage fire within me.

Now, the scene of Oh-Aew and Teh singing on stage and the music going quiet as Teh’s attention drifted from Oh to Jai was heartbreaking in a really good way. I’m so proud of Oh-Aew for finally deciding that moment was enough, that Teh deserved no more chances, and that he needed to walk away. I’m so proud of him for choosing himself.

I appreciate Teh’s roommate. I don’t have the sympathy in me at this very moment so soon after the episode to wish Teh such kindness, but I’m sure tomorrow morning I’ll be a little more open to him having the emotional support I know deep down he needs. So I’m glad he has his roommate extending a hand.

And it was incredibly sad to watch Teh realize how he’d isolated himself to the extreme all for this one dream, maybe forgetting along the way to dream about his relationship with Oh-Aew, his long term friendships, etc. All of the other dreams you can and should have as well. I think he started to realize everything he’d given up for acting and how less glamorous and fun it really was now that he was here.

And that hit him even more when he got casted and potentially signed, only to face the reality that it also meant erasing the digital footprint of his relationship with Oh, one of the few things he still had left. This life he had envisioned kept getting less and less glamorous by the second.

I’m not saying I want him to give up on his dream of acting, but I do hope that everything that has happened is his much needed wake up call. That he finds more empathy for the people he judged for drifting from acting, for the people he pushed away for not trying hard enough. I hope he sees how selfish and ignorant his actions and his words have been over the past few years and that he takes this as a starting point for a more understanding and accepting outlook on not just his own life but the lives of those around him.

And I do hope he heals one day. Or, well, I will hope for that tomorrow. Tonight I’m still mad at him.

OH-AEW

Now on to Oh. As I said before, I don’t condone the invasion of Teh’s privacy or hitting him with the bouquet. But otherwise, I really am proud of Oh-Aew. Do I think he handled everything perfectly? No. In an ideal world, I would have liked him to confront Teh sooner so he could have given him the opportunity to be honest early on.

But given everything, I think Oh’s level of compassion and his willingness to try to understand are more than most people are willing to give in his shoes. I genuinely do respect how level-headed he went about it. I wish he had been better rewarded for his grace, and instead he got a boyfriend who lied and continued to go behind his back even after Oh had given him an undeserved second chance.

But what I am most proud of is how Oh-Aew handled breaking up with Teh. Telling Teh that he was hurt and asking him to have pity on him. Oh chose himself again, more permanently. In that moment, he understood that Teh’s apology did not warrant forgiveness and that he was allowed to stay hurt, to stay angry, to stay unwilling to take Teh back.

Oh was vulnerable and still stayed firm in his decision to respect himself anyway, to trust his feelings and prioritize his healing. Teh was there crying before him, and he still understood that he had no responsibility to fix Teh’s pain. That the pain Teh was feeling was pain he had inflicted on himself.

You can see in the way he turned back to look at Teh leave and then the way he sobbed afterwards that it took all of his strength to not give in moments earlier. How easy it would have been for him to take comfort in the familiarity of Teh’s embrace once again, to give him that second chance and hope for the best. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did; it’s hard to give up someone who once made you feel safe. Who once felt like home.

But I am so proud of him for choosing himself anyway. For knowing that, however hard it was in that moment to let go, it would have been even harder to live every day sacrificing his mental and emotional security for a relationship he knew would never feel the same. For a man he could never fully trust again.

Oh-Aew has grown so much.

OH’S FRIENDS

Also, Oh has the cutest, sweetest friends in the world. This was my favorite scene in the entire episode. I’m so glad he found his group and that they love him so much.

The contrast between Teh and Oh-Aew throughout this season and especially in this episode has been really apparent as they’ve drifted apart. And I think this scene really highlighted that. Teh verbally acknowledged how he had no one to turn to anymore, how he’d ruined his relationships with everyone over time, meanwhile Oh was surrounded by people ready to love him and take care of him until he was better.

Oh’s honesty with himself and the people around him resulted in a community of friends supporting him as his authentic self, while Teh’s lies to himself and the people around him resulted in solitude.

It’s tragic for him, really.

EP 5?

Honestly, I have no idea what will happen with episode 5. At this point, I want Oh-Aew to find happiness away from Teh and for Teh to fix his insecurities on his own. I don’t want them together.

Maybe one day they’ll find each other again. I don’t know. But after this season’s storyline has unfolded, I think Oh deserves better. And I don’t think they make sense anymore.

AND BECAUSE IT NEEDS TO BE SAID

Oh-Aew dying his hair from red to black again? Yeah. He is Teh’s red no more.

[realm-sweet-realm]

Sammy and Jack. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Crisis of Faith, chapter 2

Sammy didn’t dream of Jack again until his next crisis of faith, and Sammy’s faith was very difficult to break. It had begun while Sammy, now a lost one made of fluid ink, was hiding in a wall, watching as a severely ink-infected woman raved.

“Mother, why do you punish me!?” she shouted as, with all the power left in her body, she tried to force open the padlocked doors of the women’s washroom. Her veins, prominent due to age and leanness, were a pitch-black web on her skin, and her wiry muscles had wasted away to bone.

Sammy had, on Joey’s command, overseen dozens of ink infections by now, and knew that there was nothing unusual about Emma Lamont’s case of it. Every single victim he had overseen had held some kind of delusion. Some believed that they were being poisoned by the government or their enemies, or that they were developing a mental illness. A very common one, however, was that they were receiving some sort of punishment, test, or reward from an all-powerful being- either God, or from a seemingly random entity that they’d decided to treat as one.

What if... Sammy’s beliefs were no different from this madwoman, screaming at the ghost of her mother?

Sammy moved on to check on the other infection victims. Even if Bendy wasn’t to be worshipped, the thought of ascension was all that kept him going. He sacrificed people on Joey’s command because the ink had told him to. He wrote his scriptures because he believed they were meaningful. He led the lost ones to Bendy and away from the lies their voices had told them because he truly believed that his voice had been the truth, and it seemed to give them hope, too.

Sammy passed  through the prison of ink creatures as he made his way to Joey’s sanctuary, where he now slept. A Charley was repeatedly banging its head against the bars of its cage. Lost ones wept. Ink stained every surface, making the brightly-lit room feel suffocatingly dark. Sammy was glad to phase through the wall into Joey’s sanctuary, where he could lie down on the couch and rest.

All this had to be leading to something. He couldn’t take it otherwise.

---

Sammy woke to the feeling of someone softly shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to see Jack, tears in his eyes and that disarming smile on his face.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Jack asked gently.

Sammy, with a bit of difficulty, sat up and realized that he was in a hospital room, complete with an IV in his arm. He felt very weak, but also lighter- like a burden had been taken off of him. “Awful,” he admitted.

“Well, you want some good news? The ink is gone. All of it. You still have a lot of organ damage, but it’s nothing they can’t fix in a couple weeks. In other words, it’s over, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay.”

It took Sammy a half a minute to even process that. Once he did, though, he broke into tears of relief and hugged Jack as tightly as he could.

“Thank you. God, thank you for making me come here. You saved my life.”

Jack hugged him back. “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything. I know this took a lot of courage for you. And... I’m really glad you did it. I was so scared when I found you in your sanctuary. You were so sick... I thought I’d lose you. Sammy, I think I love you. But... we can talk about that later. Right now, you need to rest.”

“I love you, too.” Easiest words Sammy had ever said.

After a little more chatting, Jack left. Sammy wandered over to the bathroom to get a look at himself in the mirror. Admittedly, he didn’t look great. He looked like a person who’d narrowly survived a life-threatening illness, because that’s what he was. His skin was still pale and sunken, and he was still pretty gaunt, but the black veins, the bruise-like purple splotches on his skin, and even the staining in his mouth and his long, blond hair- it was gone. When Sammy woke, he would have given anything to see his human face again.

---Two years later---

As often happened whenever Sammy decided to play his banjo, a small crowd had gathered around him. Today, the crowd consisted of three lost ones, Jack (of course), a moderately ink-infected woman, and one of their last healthy men. The song Sammy was playing was "I’ll fly away.” He wasn’t singing it today, but he had sang it for his followers in the past, simply replacing the word, “God’s” with “his,” since “Bendy’s,” unfortunately, was two syllables.

“You know, it’s amazing how you can remember music like that,” said David, the only non-infected person in attendance. “I'm already forgetting the words to my favourite songs since it’s been so long since we’ve been able to just turn on a radio. How do you do it?”

Sammy would have smiled if he still had a mouth. “Well, a part of it is just natural ability,” Sammy admitted. “But. I have a secret to tell you. A part of it is faith. Faith can do great things. Collective faith in Bendy is the reason that we are the largest organization in this dimension. This village was built on faith. Faith keeps us united! Faith keeps us safe! And... faith allows me to to see into the old world every night when I close my eyes. I hope that all of you one day achieve that absolute belief that something in this world is good.”

“Heh. I’m trying. But all I have are nightmares of Bendy,” a lost one complained.

“Well, keep trying. Believe in his benevolence.” With that, Sammy got up and left for bed, patting Jack on the head on the way out. If only they knew that he used to be plagued by those same nightmares.

---

Sammy’s dream came in to form. He was on a bus, sitting next to Jack. Outside their window, snow was falling gently over a pretty,  snow-covered forest. For a while Sammy just sat in peace, holding Jack’s hand and enjoying the scenery.

“Excited to see your parents again? I know I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sammy nodded. “I can’t wait.” Sammy had always wanted to introduce Jack to his parents. He remembered that there was a strong reason why he hadn’t done it while he was alive, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “My Dad is going to love you. You’re a lot like him, you know. Do you remember why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Because I’m a man,” Jack answered, totally calm.

“Oh!” Sammy had forgotten a lot about the outside world since his transformation, but nothing so big as the existence of homophobia. It was kind of alarming that the ink was affecting his brain that much. “God. I’m so... forgetful. I’ll just have to introduce you as my musical partner or something. It’s unconventional, but they've seen me do weirder.”

“You  know, Sammy, it’s like you got new lease on life after the ink incident. I love that. But yeah, you’re forgetting things left and right!” Jack teasingly jabbed him with his elbow.

“Yeah... Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Jack said. Sammy worried what Jack would think, but looking into those calm brown eyes, he trusted him to not to react badly. And it would be nice to have one person he didn’t have to lie to.

“This is a dream. In the real world, I never got help for my ink infection, and now me and dozens of other people are trapped a dimension full of monsters. I’m holding a large band of people together by convincing them to collectively worship one of them. And you,” Sammy took a deep breath, “you’re there, too. But you haven’t had a coherent thought in years. I keep hoping that one day, we’ll make it out, and I’ll be able to confess to you and we’ll actually build a life like this. So... I’m forgetful because that ink is affecting my mind, and I’m happy because this world is my escape. And because you’re here, of course.” Sammy couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes. He’d probably just made himself sound like a lunatic.

Jack turned Sammy’s head to look at him. “Hey. I believe you. And... that sounds really rough. I wish I could help you.”

Sammy smiled. “Thanks. But you've been helping me all along.” Sammy laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. Maybe once the bus stopped, they’d get some hot chocolate and look at some shops before seeing his parents. It would be nice.

---

Sammy was violently shaken awake by a trio of searchers. More were behind them- as though half the village had crammed itself into his bedroom.

“Bendy is here!” one of them yelled. “What do we do?”

That was a good question. Sammy reached for his axe, but then he stopped. This was, according to the gospel he’d been feeding them, their saviour. “Go out to greet him,” Sammy instructed, trying not to sound as hesitant as he felt. “Bring him offerings of bacon soup. Bring everyone, even the Boris clones- they used to be human, too.”

The crowd of lost ones dispersed. Sammy watched with bated breath from the balcony of his lost-one village home as a massive crowd- lost ones, searchers, people both infected and healthy, and their three Boris clones- gathered along the ink river. Dozens of cans of bacon soup were placed along the river bank as an offering. Bendy stood on the other side of the river. Their drawbridge lowered, but Bendy decided instead to walk on the ink’s surface like the God they treated him as. The crowd gasped and made way. Bendy took an ink-infected man in one arm, stroked his cheek, and bit his face off.

Screams filled the air. People ran in all directions. Sammy was frozen for several seconds before he took action.

“Everyone! Run for cover! We have displeased him! I repeat, run for cover!” Sammy's booming, demonic voice covered the great distance it needed to. Upon seeing the people run and Bendy chase after them, Sammy himself slammed shut his doors and windows and listened in horror to the screams.

When it was over, all he could think to tell his people was that they needed to reconsider how they were paying tribute to the ink demon. If they changed their methods just a little, then the demon would be helpful instead of violent, and they would be freed.

To Sammy’s mixed relief, they actually believed it.

---

eleven years went by. Within the first three, every single flesh-and-blood person in the sketch dimension was infected, killed, or both, and became a lost one.

Their minds were rotting. Increasing numbers of lost ones struggled to remember anything about themselves or the outside world. Wandering aimlessly or resting in ink puddles, they were helpless as zombies.

But not Sammy. Sammy remained- comparatively, at least- as sharp as a whip, and told the lost ones tales so vivid about the outside world that they could almost taste its brilliance and freedom. Sammy only wished that Jack- the real Jack- could understand any of it.

There was nothing to do about that but what Sammy had been doing all along: keep the community together. Keep the lost ones moralized and sane. Figuratively and literally dream of a  better world. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Sammy didn’t want to forget a thing about the real world, but little pieces had fallen away, bit by bit. In his dreams, there were now places he couldn’t visit because he didn’t remember what they were like. His reflection in the mirror had become a human-shaped blur as he forgot his appearance. The same thing had happened to the faces of people he used to remember clear as day. One day, he would forget it all, too- just as everyone else had.

It was hard to keep hope.

One of Sammy’s dreams found him walking down a beach with Jack at his side. Sammy knew that the two of them had relocated at some point, but he didn’t know to where. His American geography was rather fuzzy at this point.

“Can I vent to you about the other world?” Sammy asked.

“Sure,” Jack said. Jack was one thing that Sammy’s memory hadn’t gone fuzzy on. Sammy still remembered every soft curve of his face, every freckle, every detail. His dark brown hair was starting to grey, but not because Sammy remembered him that way- it had been many years, and growing old together was part of the fantasy.

“Bendy came to the village again today. He killed a few lost ones and then left. People are losing faith in me and I don’t know how to get it back. And to make matters worse, a false prophet is going around saying we should worship the angel instead! She’d enslave us if we did that!" Sammy chucked a baseball-sized rock into the water, then composed himself a bit. “And you know, we’re all going to be mindless drones eventually. I’m thinking... maybe I won’t fight the false prophet. I could leave the village, hide in a vent, and spend as little time awake as possible. Ink creatures can sleep for days, you know. What do say? Can we stay like this forever? Enjoy this world until I lose my mind like all the rest?” Sammy took Jack’s hands and looked desperately into his eyes.

Jack hesitated, but by the look on his face, Sammy already knew what his answer would be. “I’m sorry. You know I have to say no. The lost ones need you.”

“But why am I the one who has to stay strong for them? I’m sick of it.”

“Because you’re the one who can. I know it isn’t fair, but you’re the reason they’ve been protecting each other. And it sounds like if you leave them now, they’ll throw themselves at Alice. Do it for them. And if you can’t bring yourself to care about them... do it for me. The real me. You still love him, right?”

“Of course...” Sammy probably would have done this sooner if he didn’t care about the well-being of his searcher friend.

Jack put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I don’t know how, but you’ll get out some day. And in the meantime, I’m here.”

Sammy tried to think of some objection, but he couldn’t. He muttered a “thanks” and kept walking along the beach. Jack followed. It was, if nothing else, a beautiful night, and he might as well enjoy it.

“Jack... tell me what I look like. I don’t care that it’ll just be something you made up. Tell me anyhow.”

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

The Bitterness of the Earth

Jonmartin Week Day 3: Healing & Recovery // Self Sacrifice

I originally planned for this to be the first in a series of oneshots set in this fantasy au, but things didn’t go quite as planned (I didn’t get the other oneshots written in time for jmart week).  So instead I think I’m going to restructure it as a short multi-chapter fic.

Enjoy!

@jonmartinweek

.

The first lesson Martin learned after transforming for the first time, when his mind was still realizing his body had switched sizes and everything was different and wrong, was never to interfere with the ocean’s whims.

The old sea captain who had changed him looked down upon his flailing form with uncaring eyes and told Martin it is their way.  As one of them now, Martin is bound forevermore to follow their laws without question, lest they forsake him to return to his miserable life on shore.

Martin tried to gasp and beg, plead ‘no, no!  Of course I’ll follow the rules!’ at that.  The thought of returning to where everything ached and hurt and was never ending pain horrified him down to his soul.  Neither words nor familiar sounds came out of his mouth, for it was gone completely.  Instead, Martin made a gurgled, strained squawk with his new, unfamiliar beak.

Peter Lukas, the old sea captain, chuckled at Martin as if he could understand him.  He rubbed a hand across his large, salt-speckled beard, took one final consideration of Martin, and then turned and strolled off into the thick fog that covered the docks.

It took Martin a handful of days, though time blurred together so he’d never be quite sure just how many, to adjust to his albatross form and learn to fly.  It took significantly longer for him to gain the confidence to leave the shoreline behind and glide out to sea for the first time.  It was almost two years before he realized he could purposefully transform himself from albatross form to human and back again.

It was not something Martin did often.

He kept to his role, gliding out above the waves, always watching, observing, but only swooping down long enough to feed himself when he felt hunger.  High amidst the clouds, everything was easier.  The world was quiet and calm, unbothered by his presence.  Martin found it nice, pleasant, and came to not care how deeply he sank into the feeling.

Eventually, driven by the need to have a place to rest after particularly brutal storms, Martin found a small, isolated island to call his own.  He never considered turning it into a home, but he did build a structure and fill it with books and other distractions for the few times when he felt like being human again.

Things progressed for years.  Martin’s life remained peaceful, tranquil.  Not much changed in the day by day for him.  He could never bring himself to care too much.

...

As one unremarkable day dies and an equally uninteresting night begins, thick, dark storm clouds roll across the sky.  Not in the mood to deal with the lightning spirits who would surely come out to dance, Martin hunkers down on his island.

He observes as wind whips the few trees and vegetation of his not-home and howls bitter agony.  Waves roar and crash, wreaking havoc upon the beach.  Thunder bellows.  Lightning cracks across the sky in blinding flashes.

The storm reaches its crescendo somewhere in the hours just before dawn.  The wind twists and twists.  For a moment, Martin fully believes a tornado will form and sweep him off wherever it pleases.  With a deafening snap, the sky cracks open.  Something falls, tumbling through the funneling wind.  With a mighty smack, it plunges into the ocean.  Water shoots up and sprays in all directions.  Waves roll, and then still.

Slowly, surely, as if nothing of note had happened, the storm subsides.  The world calms back into silence.  Martin blinks, and ducks his head back inside his shelter.  He’ll wait until sunrise to take off again.  Best not to tempt the powers that be so soon after they expressed themselves.

When morning comes, and Martin walks across the beach, indulging in the squish of the sand between his toes, he finds himself coming to a startled stop just before the spot where he usually gives up his human form.  There’s something there.  Someone.  Someone with the warm, even breath of the living.  A form, unceremoniously dumped by the ocean on dry land, where it naturally belongs.

Martin stares at it, uncertain of what to do.  It has been so, so long since he’s come across another person, he doesn’t know how to, what to, should he…?

A muffled groan comes from the person, and an emotion long disused painfully twinges inside Martin.  He smothers it back down and, when that doesn’t truly work to rid himself of it, resigns himself to dragging the person to his shelter.  He doesn’t care what happens to them, Martin tells himself.  He just wants the guilt that will accompany doing nothing to go away.

The person sleeps and sleeps and sleeps and fills Martin’s abode with the rich scent of earth, and life.

…

The first time Jon wakes, it’s in the unexpected way one does when they weren’t expecting to wake at all.  Which is to say, he opens his eyes, sucks in a breath, and abruptly feels everything hurting, throbbing, all at once.  He groans and tries to bring up one arm to shield his eyes from the too bright sunlight.  He’s stopped, and shushed quietly.  Calm, cool hands pin him down.

Jon thrashes.  His throat is too hoarse to scream, but he won’t, he won’t.  Not after everything he did.  He stopped Elias—Jonah—whoever.  He sacrificed his life.  The world is better off for it.  But, no.  No.  If he must live yet, then Jonah doesn’t get to keep him.  Have him.  Jon struggles, uncaring of the damage he does to himself or whoever’s holding him.

“Be still,” says a tentative voice, unsure of itself, like it’s not used to speaking.  “You are very hurt.”

Jon relaxes.  It’s not Jonah’s voice, dripping with condescending and self-satisfaction.  Regardless of how much his head is swimming right now, Jon is positive Jonah is incapable of sounding so timid.  He attempts to speak, to ask who the stranger tending to him is.  He only manages a mangled whimper.

A dish is pressed to Jon’s dry lips.  A trickle of cool, crisp water runs into his mouth and down his throat.  Without hesitation, Jon slurps the water greedily.  When he’s drunken all he can tolerate, Jon settles his head back down.  He closes his eyes to give them a brief reprieve.

He won’t remember falling asleep until the next time he finds himself waking again.

…

Jon sleeps and wakes and sleeps and wakes in a dizzying cycle he can’t keep track of.  Each time he stirs, it’s for a handful of minutes at most.  Long enough to gulp down some water or what could possibly be soup broth offered to him.  He groans and murmurs what are hopefully intelligible articulations of the questions his feverish brain comes up with; Who are you?  Why are you taking care of me?  Where are we?

His mysterious caretaker doesn’t offer explanations, only soothing ‘shushes’ that are so soft Jon wonders if he imagined them.  The most Jon is able to feel the person’s presence happens late one night, when he’s jostled out of a nightmare into wakefulness.  There’s hands on his shoulders.  Jon almost screams at the physical contact.  The hands immediately vanish.

“You’re alright.  It was a bad dream.  You’re safe.  Nothing will hurt you here.”

Jon gasps.  How can I trust you? is the question he wants to ask, but he can’t quite get those words out.  He’s not scared of this person.  If they wanted to hurt him, they’ve had ample opportunities.  The question of trust, though, is something Jon’s not sure he wants an answer for.  Not while he’s so vulnerable.

Out of the darkness comes a thick blanket of better quality than any Jon has noted so far during his stay wherever this is.  It surrounds, and then swaddles him.  No matter how hard he looks, Jon can’t make out more than his caretaker’s moving silhouette.  It leans in close to Jon and he hears the words, “Sleep peacefully now,” whispered in his ear.

In the morning, Jon wakes.  There’s no sign anyone but himself was ever there.

…

Martin paces across the beach.  This is bad.  This is very bad.  Being around someone for so long feels uncomfortable, like something under his skin is aflame.  No matter what he does, he can’t make the sensation go away.  He wants it to.  He wants to not care.  He can’t.

“I just need to get him off the island,” Martin tells himself, while not sounding very convinced.  “Then everything can go back to the way it was.  Like it never happened.”

Is it technically even interfering if the ocean spat the man out onto the island?  Surely, if it was the waves’ will to drown him, the man would have been gulped down long before he could ever reach Martin.  Saving his life, therefore, wasn’t actually breaking any rules.

Martin pauses in his pacing, considering.  He knows what Peter would say to him now.  What Peter would have done in his place.  He’s not Peter.  Martin squeezes his eyes shut and clenches and unclenches his fists.  No matter how hard he tries (and he’s mostly done his best to avoid having to try at all), he cannot bring himself to be cruel, or completely callous.

Martin sighs.  He heads back into his shelter.  He purposefully looks everywhere but the man he’s been nursing back to health.  Martin reasons with himself that, if he is to make a voyage (a true voyage on a boat), he needs to take stock of what supplies he has.

He’s deep into counting what little funds he has and debating how to go about acquiring a boat when he hears a small, but pointed cough.  Martin ignores it.  He knows how to sail well enough.  Once upon a time, he was part of the Tundra’s crew.  That’s not the issue.  Flying to the coast and acquiring a small dinghy to transport the man is.  Martin will have to talk to people.

Maybe he could steal something?  Scavenge from a junkyard?

There’s a second pointed cough.  This time, it strikes Martin that someone had to have made it.  Apprehension sinking in his gut, he turns.

Looking at him, studying him with what could be called a curious expression, is the man.  He has warm brown eyes and tangled curly hair matted with sand and sea water.  He clears his throat, making a hoarse, rough sound.  Habitually, Martin reaches for the fresh water he’s been keeping for his patient and passes it over to him.  He watches as the man’s long, spindly fingers tentatively reach out, touch the water gourd, take it, and then lift it to his lips.

It’s hypnotizing to watch the man drink.  The way his adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.  How he pauses to take a breath and wipe his mouth on the back of a hand.  It’s like he’s a beacon radiating warmth and life directly in front of Martin.  The longer Martin stares at him, the more the chill that has cloaked him for years dispels.

Martin jumps back.  He calls upon Forsaken to wrap him in its cold, comforting embrace.  Fog rolls.  The man makes a startled noise.  Without thinking, Martin calls forth light mists and pushes them forward to shroud the man.  He tells the mists to make the man sleep.

Martin exhales with relief when the man’s eyelids flutter and he slumps back down.

…

In the end, Martin leaves the man in an enchanted sleep, flies to the nearest continent, finds a wooden, one-man dinghy on a dock, and leaves a pouch with all the coins in his possession in its place.  The sail back to his island takes some time, as he’s unused to traveling without a bird’s eye view, but Martin manages it.

The man’s state is unchanged upon Martin’s return.  He slumbers uninterrupted.  Martin gazes down at him, wonders at him, and then gently bundles him up in blankets and carries him to the dinghy.  It isn’t hard.  He’s a small, slight man.

The journey is a peaceful, contemplative one.  If he’s being honest, Martin rather enjoys it.  It’s been years since he last took the time to sail anywhere.

Reaching shore, however, brings back all his old anxieties and fears in a tidal wave of inescapable emotion.  The first moment he sees land, Martin panics.  What is he going to do?  He can’t just unceremoniously dump the man somewhere.  Not after all he’s done to take care of him.  He needs to make sure he’s safe.  At the very least.

Martin stays out at sea for a few days, floating, uncertain and nervous, until a fog bank rolls in from over the water.  Under its comforting, concealing damp, Martin finally approaches the shore.  He steps off onto the docks, the man held securely in his arms, and soundlessly walks off to find a hospital.

For three days and nights, Martin watches from windows, in his albatross form, as doctors and nurses tend to his man.  He’s there when the enchanted sleep wears off and the man wakes and blearily looks around.

Martin spreads his wings and takes off before he can be noticed.

As he flies away, one of his feathers already loose and on its way out, drifts in through the window and lands on the floor of the man’s room.

The man turns at the movement, slides himself out of bed, pads over, and plucks the feather up between his fingertips.  He studies it intently, an unreadable expression on his face.

…

There is a man in Jon’s dreams.  One he doesn’t quite recognize, but who feels so very familiar.  The man’s hair is the color of sand shifting on a beach.  His eyes, the blurred blue-gray where sea and sky meet.  His skin is vague, somewhere between seashells and fog.  Sometimes Jon thinks his imagination concocted the man all on its own.  A fantasy.  A personification of the ocean to humanize his own experiences while lost at sea.

It’s a lucky miracle, the doctors and nurses of the hospital where he stays during his recovery tell him, that the dockhand who found him unconscious on his boat discovered him when he did.  They feared the worst would have happened if no one had stumbled upon him.  Jon silently nods along with their explanations.  He doesn’t wish to worry them, or be argumentative over the matter.  Even if his memory is hazy in some areas, he knows they wouldn’t understand the full story of what he’s been through.  He doesn’t want to drag them into it either.

Jon insists on keeping the albatross feather he found on the floor, despite the doctors protests of cleanliness.  He holds it at least once every day.  Studies it.  It reveals nothing to him.  At the same time, he can’t bring himself to discard it.  It connects him.  To what, he’s not quite sure, but it’s not a connection he wants to lose.

When he’s finally discharged, Jon makes arrangements.  He acquires a horse and rides across the land to a city tucked in the mountains.  It would have been easier to hire an airship, certainly, but an unease in his stomach prevents him from taking to the skies.

Jon passes through the city until he finds the university it’s famous for.  He inquires around and makes his way to an ivy-covered, lopsided but still standing, tower on the edge of the campus some distance from every other structure.  Without knocking, he opens its door and walks up its spiral staircase all the way to the office at the top.

“Come in,” speaks a tired voice from the other side as he reaches the final step.  “And tell me what you seek.”

Jon does as he’s bid.  He walks into the office where books are stacked high against the walls.  He places his albatross feather down on the desk in front of the seer, who quirks an eyebrow.  Ever so carefully, Jon takes a folded bit of parchment out of his pocket and smoothes it out so the seer, a man with long, unkept black hair can read what it says:

My voice was once stolen.  This is how I speak.

and a little below that,

I need your help to find the one who this feather belonged to.

[telehxhtrash]

HXH META : "YOU'RE SECOND PLACE"

Ahhh I've been wanting to write about this for so long ! I've been thinking a lot about the reasons behind Gon and Killua's separation, because I feel like there's something missing (and i feel like a lot of people feel this way too). To me, this entire separation feels kind of rushed, but not in a bad way, it feels like Togashi was purposefully trying to make it come out of nowhere so the reasons for their separation wouldn't be too clear.

I've seen a lot of takes on their separation where people argue that Killua left because he's mad at Gon's actions, that he's hurt about the way Gon treated him during the Chimera Ant Arc, that he needs some time alone to process everything that happens. While I don't think that's incorrect, because Killua is definitely traumatized from this whole ordeal, I also think there's something missing in this explanation. And to me, the "something missing" can be explained by the comment Killua makes. When Killua says "You're second place now", he's lying.

EDIT: If you’re stumbling onto this post... Hi ! I wrote this a whiiiiiile ago and I don’t particularly agree with what I wrote anymore. I don’t want to delete this because I think the parallels between the two situations I describe in this post are interesting, but I don’t think Killua’s reason for leaving is primarily based on his need to protect Gon. I talked about this matter in a few posts, but this one goes over it the most. In short, I believe Killua’s reason for leaving was primarily out of heartbreak and deep belief that Gon only considered him a teammate rather than a friend and separating himself from Gon was his way of trying not to get hurt with unrequited feelings. As for the “you’re second place”, I used to think it was a sentence with deep meaning on their relationship but...I like the interpretation that it’s Killua being petty. I like the idea that it’s him being dumb and insecure about his place next to Gon, feeling like he was always second place after Ging, Kite, Palm, and I like to think that him highlighting that the roles are reversed and now Gon is second place to HIM is just him being a petty gay kid. Obviously, this comment can be dismissed as a joke or interpreted differently, that’s just my interpretation as of right now ! 

So please, feel free to read this, but take everything I talk about with a grain of salt. It was my personal interpretation at the time, I don’t really agree with it anymore, but I’m glad I could share another point of view! 

To me, everything can be explained by this simple comment that feels so out of character. "You're second place now". While it can be dismissed as a joke, a lot of readers/viewers were left absolutely shocked by the comment, and a lot of people feeling like Killua moved his attention onto Alluka too quickly. 

We KNOW Killua cares about Gon a lot, even after the events of the CAA. We saw him do everything he could ever possibly do to help Gon during the CAA, putting him above everything else, worrying constantly about him, even going so far as to being willing to die alongside him. Gon was Killua's everything during CAA, he was the only reason Killua was there in the first place, he didn't care about the fate of the world or getting revenge against Pitou, he just wanted to be there for Gon. After Gon's self destruction, Killua still did everything he could to help him, returning home and going against his family to save his friend.

That's why when Killua initiates the separation and tells Gon "You're second place now", it feels so out of character, because we saw all the troubles he went through for Gon, we lived all these moments with him, so we know there's something wrong with the way he's acting. We know that, while Gon is not Killua's priority right now, he's definitely NOT second place. That's why I'm convinced Killua is lying about Gon being second place to him.

One of the other reasons I think it’s a lie, is because this isn't the first time Killua says rude things to drive Gon away to keep him from harm's way. (chapter 230)

This is the exact same situation as the separation : Killua is lying to Gon to keep him from going with him on a suicide mission. The context to this scene is that Killua and Gon think they should stop the selection orchestrated by Pitou's puppets, but they know they'll get caught. It's a very dangerous mission, and one that is not related to their goal of healing Kite. Killua seems to grab pretty well how dangerous this situation is, and tells Gon that he wants to be the one to do it, alone. 

What's happening here is Killua driving Gon away to keep him away from danger, dragging all the danger and risks onto himself to protect Gon. He looks at Gon and tells him straight in the face that it'll be easier if he does it alone, that Gon would pretty much be a dead weight, and that it'd be better for them to part to go on separate missions for now. Of course, that's a lie, he’s only thinking about keeping him safe, as we can see from his overreaction in this panel :

To Killua, this mission is pretty much a suicide mission, and he wants to be the one carrying the burden, to protect and save Gon. But Gon doesn't want to be saved, he wants to help Killua : so the only way to keep him away is to emphasize the fact that he'd be a dead weight, and that Killua doesn't want him around.

The fact that these two scenes are so similar makes me further convinced that Killua is lying about Gon being second place, and that his reason to lie is to keep him safe.

I also believe that Killua has a good reason to lie, because we know that Killua lies only when he has to, as Biscuit tells him after the dodgeball match on Greed Island.

To me, the reason Killua is lying is to make Gon believe he doesn't want him around anymore. He wants to make him believe that, while their adventures were fun, he's got some other stuff to do right now and that he doesn't want Gon around. Killua is trying to purposefully drive Gon away from him by making Gon feel like he's not needed anymore. He wants to protect Gon, as he always does. Illumi wants to get a hold onto Killua and Alluka/Nanika, and he's not going to stop until he gets them. Killua is very aware of that fact, he knows that his life isn't gonna be a fun roadtrip with his sister, but more of a hellish nightmare to try and get away from Illumi. 

We also know that Killua always puts Gon's well being above everything else, and right now, Gon came out of a traumatic suicidal episode, making him end up like a piece of fried chicken for the sole purpose of proving his worth. Killua was there to witness Gon's descent into madness and self-harm, he was the one to pick up the pieces, as always, and he was able to see the aftermath of Gon's actions.

I don't think it's a reach to assume that Killua will do anything to never have to witness this ever again. He doesn't want Gon to get hurt again, he doesn't want to have to witness his decaying body again, he doesn't want to put him in a situation that would make him be able to hurt himself again. Sadly, Killua can't escape the extremely dangerous situation he's in right now, and he doesn't want Gon to have to deal with it. He knows that if Illumi tried to hurt Killua in any way, Gon would do ANYTHING to protect him, would be willing to throw his life away again, and Killua doesn't want to have to witness his best friend self destructing again. So he's keeping him away. He has to, or else he knows the same situation is gonna happen.

If Killua told Gon that his brother was after him, it's 100% sure that Gon would've insisted on going with him to help him and protect him, and Killua couldn't have done anything to stop him. That's why he had to make Gon believe he doesn't want him around anymore, because that's the only way to make Gon back away. And that's why Killua is telling Gon that he's second place, that's why he's the one initiating the separation : all this to drive Gon away for the sole purpose of protecting him once again, just like he did when he went on the mission to stop the selection alone.

In short, Killua is sacrificing himself once again, sacrificing his happiness, suppressing his want to be with Gon, only to be able to keep him safe once again, even if it means having to hurt Gon and not being able to stay with him.

To me, this interpretation explains everything : why it seems like Killua moved on so fast, why he told Gon he was "second place", why the separation seemed so sudden, and why Killua looked sad when they parted : he didn't want to part, but he had to, to protect Gon.

I hope I wasn't too messy in my argumentation, this was kinda hard to write because I didn't really know how to explain my take on this scene, but I hope I conveyed what I wanted to say relatively clearly ! 

Of course, this doesn't invalidate all the other interpretations of this scene, I just didn't want to believe that Killua would be mad at Gon and telling him that he's second place after everything they've been through. I hope I could bring a bit of optimism ! Thank you for reading !

[rusty-tetanus-nail]

Never Look Away

Summary: Dean and Cas are forced to redefine their relationship as a decade old secret between them finally comes to light.

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that's a load of bull..."

Notes: This is the result of listening to Never Look Away by Vienna Teng for 10 hours gay.

-------

Careful not to wake him, Dean traces the outlines of Cas’s body illuminated by the reddish hues of the morning sun with his fingers. He can hardly believe it’s only been a year since they defeated God and pulled Cas out of the Empty with the promise of a love returned. 

So much has changed in such little time. With the illusion of free will no longer binding Dean to a greater destiny and with Cas and Dean’s own feelings out in the open he finally allowed himself to want all the things he denied himself for so long, always prioritizing other people’s happiness over his own. Now he has it all. A house, a job, a family, a life, Cas. It was so hard at first, to stop looking for hunts and letting go of Sam so he too could start his own life with Eileen by his side, but in the end Dean had been too tired to fight his own desires any longer and gave in.

Fuck the voice of his father telling him his only purpose in life was to watch out for Sammy and fuck the man John wanted him to be. He helped save this world so he gets to live in it in whatever way he wants to and what he wants is to live his cheesy apple pie life waking up every day next to the man he loves.

Cas stirs in his sleep and Dean watches the translucent wings flutter against the light seemingly drinking up the morning sun. They used to be pitch black back when they first met. A beautiful sight, yet not quite fitting the man Cas would eventually become.

Then they burned and Dean could barely stomach to look at them knowing how much the culmination of all of Dean’s mistakes had hurt Cas so irreparably. And now the wings are whole again and even more awe-inspiring than before. Something about Dean rescuing Cas from the Empty or maybe a blessing from Jack has restored them leaving Dean with the desperate urge to touch the intangible. Watching one of the smaller eyes on Cas’ wings slowly flutter open Dean wonders if it would be rude to ask about the colour change and chuckles. The way the wings shimmer with all the colours of the rainbow is just so wonderfully, blatantly gay.

“What’s so funny?” Cas mumbles half asleep as a couple more eyes flutter open searching for the source of Dean’s amusement.

Dean leans over, one hand caressing Cas’ jaw and kisses him softly good morning.

“I just love you so damn much.” He whispers only inches away from his husband’s mouth and rests his forehead against Cas’.

Cas moves back to study Dean’s face questioningly. The familiar stare is so much more intense now that Dean can take all of Cas in without suffering through the burning sensation that always accompanied laying his eyes on something filled with angelic grace. 

Dean swallows hard. Having all of Cas’ eyes so solely focussed on him and him alone is such a major turn on. He must be doing it on purpose. It’s unfair how such a simple action has so much of an effect on Dean.

“I don’t understand how that’s funny.” Cas says, one eyebrow raised.

“Then come and find out.”

Dean’s mind is already too far gone to care for the conversation and he pulls Cas closer by his shirt desperate to embrace the parts of Cas that he can actually touch. Now fully awake, Cas reciprocates the action enthusiastically pressing their lips together earnestly and climbing on top of Dean to explore his body with his hands and mouth. Not for the first time Dean curses his past self for not allowing himself to be loved by Cas years ago. There’s so much time they have yet to make up for. Luckily they’re both more than willing to try.

Dean’s musings are cut short when Cas’ attentions move downward as Dean’s legs get pushed apart and Cas presses against Dean’s growing erection. 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean groans and sees new galaxies forming inside Cas’ body. Always good to know that Cas enjoys this as much as Dean does.

The prodding stops and Dean lets out an embarrassing whine.

“Not yet.” Cas teases with a grin, all of his eyes’ attention once again on Dean alone. The bastard. Dean has half the mind to hit him upwards with his knee in retaliation, but soon gets distracted by Cas intertwining his hands with Dean’s and leaning down slowly to kiss the sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. He gasps and moves his neck so Cas can take him apart much easier.

In their closeness Cas’ celestial body engulfs Dean in his entirety and he is left again, breathless, by the unfathomable sight of his lover’s true form. Stars and skies in colours not named by men expand and swirl inside the translutient depths of the oceans and galaxies that make up the angels body as the golden halos’ luminescence submerges them both in it’s light. Dean would lose himself in the sight if it weren’t for the thousands of eyes, holding the knowledge of millenia, watching him unblinkingly in a way that is so Cas, so human, that Dean can’t see anything else but his stupid socially awkward self-sacrificing husband.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Dean blurts out, giving voice to his thoughts.

Cas flinches away as if burned, his true form doing much the same. He wavers back against the bedroom wall as far away as possible from his vessel and curls in on himself. At least Dean assumes that’s what Cas is trying to do. Cas' true form, once taller than any skyscraper, has shrunk significantly with the absence of grace powering him up, but is still far too large to fit completely inside a house let alone a room.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks sitting up.

Cas turns away, his eyes fluttering across the room looking for an escape. Dean gingerly places a hand on Cas’ shoulder and is relieved when he’s not pushed away.

“Hey, Cas, buddy. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know it’s weird coming from me, but let’s not do this again. No more unnecessary secrets. Please.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand into his and nods. One slow measured breath and he starts talking.

“Dean, I- I know you can’t help seeing me this way, but I dislike it when you comment on my appearance.”

Cas’ vessel is still turned away, but out of the corner of his eyes Dean can see Cas, the real Cas, watching his reaction with interest.

“Well, uh, okay, if it makes you uncomfortable I can stop.” Dean starts awkwardly. “But let me assure you there is absolutely no reason for you to feel insecure about the way you look, you’re-” Dean trails off. You’re mind blowingly gorgeous and sometimes your beauty is so overwhelming that I’m scared I’ll cry if I look too closely.

At Dean's words, Cas finally turns to face him.

“I’m not ‘insecure’, Dean.” Cas bites out emphasizing his irritation with air quotes. “In fact my true form is counted as one of the most attractive among my brethren.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow. No argument there. Cas is by far the prettiest angel he’s ever seen.

“And I am well aware that you find my vessel visually pleasing, but Dean, what you’re complimenting is not me. It’s Jimmy Novak.”

“Uh, Jimmy’s a good looking guy for sure, but the one who’s beautiful is definitely you.”

Instead of being reassured by Dean’s words Cas just sighs resignated.

“It’s kind of you to refer to my inner beauty, but we both know this is not what you meant. You see Jimmy’s face and call it beautiful. I don’t begrudge you for this but don’t like being confused with him.”

Oh Cas definitely has insecurities. How can he even think Jimmy fucking Novak is anywhere near as attractive as Cas himself?

“No, I meant exactly what I said. You, the you you, are fucking hot.”

Cas’ frowns, unhappy with Dean’s reply.

“It’s okay. I understand. It’s hard to keep Jimmy’s body and I seperate. There’s no need for you to backtrack to make me feel better. Let’s just stop arguing about this.”

“Oh no Jon Snow. Not so fast. Let me put this in terms even you and your insecure ass will understand.”

Dean takes Cas’ face into his hands and stares deeply into his eyes. The staring is a habit from back when Cas was still fully juiced up. With the angel grace making it near impossible to look at Cas’ true form without feeling like his eyes were on fire, the vessel's eyes were the only place Dean’s own could safely escape to.

“Your true form is incredibly attractive. Very sexy. Wings and all. If I could hit that, I would. Inner beauty not required.” He speaks slowly as if to a child. Apparently it was the wrong thing to do as Cas slaps Dean’s hands away unable to suppress his irritation any longer.

“Dean, you’ve never seen my true form and I can assure you if you had, its inhuman nature would stop you from ‘hitting that’.”

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that’s a load of bull and second of all…”

Dean grows quiet. What does Cas mean with Dean’s never seen his true form before? Wasn’t the ability to see angels part of being the Michael Sword or something? How could Cas not know? And even if he didn’t, they’ve known each other for over ten years. It must’ve come up at some point. 

Dean rifles through his memories desperate to find the right one, but draws a blank and visibly blanches. 

Cas had no reason to believe Dean could see him. Back when they first met, Cas made some assumptions and Dean didn’t correct him, not trusting the self proclaimed angel an inch. And then it’s always been the vessel Dean’s been talking to, never the one puppeteering it. At first out simple necessity, then out of pure habit. 

Determined to rectify their decade old misunderstanding Dean makes his way through the bedroom and sits down right in front of what Dean assumes must be the angel equivalent of Cas’ face or maybe his hand. Either way the body part has enough eyes to have an honest conversation with and has been observing Dean and the vessel talk this whole time. 

This is Cas. The real Cas. And it’s high time for Dean to stop averting his eyes.

Cas squirms under his stare.

“Dean, childishly staring at an empty wall won’t solve this.” Cas argues from behind Dean and Dean has to suppress the urge to turn around. The voice might be coming from the vessel, but the one talking is the angel in front of him.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Dean says, looking directly into one of Cas’ bigger eyes. Cas freezes momentarily at the direct eye contact and then his eyes swirl around frantically trying to find whatever it is that Dean’s looking at. Dean's stomach tightens. It hasn’t been fair to make Cas feel as if he’s invisible just because it’s easier for his stupid human brain to talk to the vessel.

Dean reaches out attempting to touch the nervously fluttering wing next to him, but as expected his hand moves right through it. He smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. It seems there’s something I’ve neglected to tell you. I thought you knew, but that’s not an excuse.” Dean pauses. “I’ve always been able to see you.”

There’s a storm brewing inside Cas, a tension. One wrong move and a star could explode setting off a supernova that is held at bay by nothing but a shimmering skin made of light and colours. His husband is nervous at the possibility of being seen, Dean realises and has no choice but to confirm Cas’ worry.

“When you were still full of grace I couldn’t look directly at you without fearing for my eyes, so I got used to looking at your vessel instead, but I’ve always known and seen the real you.”

Ever since Dean could remember gigantic and intangible creatures taller than skyscrapers with wings that could pierce the heavens have been watching him from a distance, their countless eyes following his every move. Scary, yet unimaginably beautiful. As a child Dean would try to describe them and ask what they were, but apart from his mom there was never anyone trying to hear him out.

“Children and their imagination.” Adults would say and ruffle his hair whenever he tried to ask about them and by the time he was four he realised that he’s the only one who could see them.

Then his mom died and all his questions and curiosity were left behind in the ruins of their broken home. Dean learned quickly that John had no use for children and their imaginary friends. He needed to grow up and become a soldier for his family’s sake. So he followed the orders, and pretended not to see these watchers following him around.

Later, when Dean was a teen and John was gone most of the time, Sam often dragged him to libraries and Dean would do his own research on the creatures in secret, too scared to ask anyone for help. John made it pretty clear he didn’t want Dean talking about them and Dean feared that if he told someone and didn’t have proof of their existence Dean would be sent off to a mental ward for seeing things that were simply not there. In the end it took dying and coming back to life to find his answers.

Despite having seen these creatures all of his life, when they summoned the one named Castiel, Dean needed a moment to figure out what he was seeing. He’s never been this close to any of them and the proximity was overwhelming. Dean was suddenly acutely aware just how Pamela's eyes could've been burned out so easily by the creature's visage.

In an attempt not to suffer the same fate as her, Dean averted his eyes and spotted a man entering the barn, his body connected with small tendrils to the large creature around him. A puppet, Dean thought, one he could touch and subsequently kill, so without another moment's hesitation Dean took the first shot. And then the second, a third. Neither the puppet nor the creature were faced by his attempts to fight, merely curious. As if Dean was nothing more but an ant trying to fight a giant.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The puppet finally said, inhuman in everything but his appearance and so Dean stabbed him as a thanks for the introduction. Next thing he knew, Bobby was down and the guy began claiming to be an angel.

“There’s no such thing.” Dean said, but the voice of his mother telling him that angels were watching over him thought differently.

The man’s body straightened and the creature, Castiel, stood up, his form ending far beyond the barn’s roof and he spread his wings. Bolts of lighting exploded into an array of mesmerizing fireworks and Dean was left breathless before the angel. His terrifying beauty nesting deep inside Dean’s heart and he knew he was lost.

“No, you must be lying.” Cas says as his body trembles under Dean’s stare.

“I’m not.” Dean replies, leaving no room for debate and moves closer to Cas, who seems to be trying to escape through the bedroom wall. “So believe me when I say that you’re fucking beautiful and only thinking about you watching me with your many many eyes is enough to make me hard.”

Cas sputters incoherently and his body changes colours rapidly, eventually settling on a pinkish sort of hue. Oh. That’s new. Dean grins.

“Cas, Huggybear, are you blushing?” Dean teases, taking immense amusement in this new discovery. Cas swirls him around in an attempt to make Dean look at his vessel again, but with a true form as big as Cas’ it’s not hard to find a new part of Cas’ body to focus his attention on.

“No.” Cas growls defensively. “Stop looking.”

“Make me.” The reply is a bit cliché but Dean isn’t trying to win an Oscar. He’d much rather film a porn instead.

In the blink of an eye Dean is encased possessively in Cas’s wings and pushed onto the bed with urgency. Fuck yes.

[nosunwithoutshadow]

finally posting for day 1 of darklina week! (I have no concept of time)

Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Words: 2k Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Loneliness, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels

Summary: It’s the worst kind of cliche, but Aleksander doesn’t realize what he’s missing until it’s gone.

also on ao3

Aleksander misses it. The light. 

He didn’t realize it at first, in those lost few months after he tore the world apart to protect his people. Time stretched oddly then, as he adjusted to his new reality. He felt off balance, constantly teetering on the edge of falling into the abyss he created. The merzost coiled in his soul, making a home in his bones, craving more with each breath. He’d known the magic required a sacrifice before he stepped in front of the dead king’s army, accepted it, but a martyr never knows what they will have to give up to their cause before it’s ripped from them. 

(cont. under the cut)

He only discovers what’s missing later. After emerging from the other side of the void into a new world, one he has shaped, will continue to shape. He gathers what self possession he has left and returns to the capital, presenting himself as a tame housecat for the throne to use at their pleasure, repentant for the misdeeds of his family and content to hunt mice for the reward of a warm hearth and occasional pat. He blunts his fangs, hides his claws, and bats at toys tossed his way for the crown’s amusement, a domesticated predator biding his time. He returns to the tatters of the sanctuary he had begun to build and teaches every Grisha he can save how to sharpen their own claws so when the world comes for them, as it inevitably will, they will be ready. 

And when he has time to think again, when the urge to plunge the entire palace into a darkness they cannot escape has lessened enough that his bones don’t ache with the need, he stands in the courtyard of the Little Palace and breathes. He hasn’t lived without burdens since the day in his long-ago childhood when he realized that he and everyone like him would never be safe. It’s different now though, rather than weighing on him, the darkness drags him down, anchoring him to the earth like it would swallow him at any moment. And when he spreads his arms, exhaling and letting his eyes slip closed for the briefest moment, he feels…

Nothing. 

The days in Ravka are rarely truly warm, but dressed in all black, he’s used to the sun slanting down and soaking into his kefta. He sees the sun overhead, the near cloudless sky, feels a cool breeze rustle the fur at his cuffs, but the warmth he expects to feel doesn’t reach his skin. It’s as if he’s no longer quite part of this world, truly the abomination they call him, shunned even by the sun’s light. 

The small part of him that’s still human wants to strip off his layers in the lost hope that if he can only bare himself to the sun, it’ll be different. As if there’s any way he could ever give enough of himself to buy back what he’s sacrificed. He tilts his face up to the sky and feels nothing but the chill of the afternoon against his cheeks. 

His heart, that traitorous organ, hesitates before resuming its regular beat. He draws a deep breath, collects himself, and continues on his walk. He’d hardly been unaware that there would be a cost to his actions. Out of all the possible consequences, this is far from something that can’t be borne. He will find other ways to keep warm. 

Years pass, nearly too many to count, and yet he numbers every one. The time is counted in the lives he could not save, the indignities thrust upon his Grisha he cannot protect them from. The walls of the Little Palace grow higher, blocking the outside world and its taunting sun. Its light only serves to remind him of what he still can’t do: he can’t control the fold, can’t use it as the weapon he needs to protect his people, can’t stop them from being slaughtered beyond his limited reach, can’t promise them the true security they deserve.

He wears his layers like armor and tries to forget the missing pieces of his soul. He keeps the fireplaces of the Little Palace well stocked to ward off the cold. He nearly forgets what it feels like to have sunlight play across his skin, warming him even through winter’s chill.

But then.

And then.

Oh.

He’s spent centuries planning, but he could never have planned for Alina. Even less for what she would do to him. He touches her, and walls built over hundreds of years fracture, their foundations no longer solid. He sees her power, and he remembers dreams he no longer has any right to. He feels her warmth, and he finds he might give up what’s left of his soul to stay close enough for her heat to burn. 

It’s another small sacrifice to let go of her after that first touch, but he comforts himself with the knowledge that she won’t go far. He’s found her now, and the blinding potential of what that means threatens every ounce of his hard-won restraint. He rediscovers parts of himself he thought long-dead, pushing through dirt and cobwebs like a dormant seed, reaching out towards her sun. 

He will keep her close, there’s no question of that. Losing part of himself was torture enough the first time; he doesn’t know how he could bear it again. He’s endured so much, but not this. And she’s so much more than his scattered missing pieces. She’s life to his emptiness, the rushing river to his steady mountain, the celestial light to his earth-bound darkness. 

If he’d known just how much she was, he’s not sure he would have wanted her, the him before he met her. No blessing as potent as her comes without danger. And she is dangerous, all fire and fury, telling him “no” and crashing headlong into centuries worth of careful plans. Even so, he’s no fool to cast aside such a treasure, if he even could. He’ll hide her in his fortress, its defenses built for this day, and hone her into the weapon she was meant to be. 

It has to be said, his plans usually proceed much more smoothly. 

People are the fatal flaw to any plan, Aleksander knows, and that has never been more true than with Alina. Every time he thinks he’s learned to understand her, she surprises him again. He wants to hate her for that, at first. Even then, he can’t bring himself to, not really. His only consolation is those moments when he’s certain that she feels it too. That he’s not alone in this maddening need. She fills the empty spaces inside of him to overflowing, and even then, it’s still not enough. He’s never thought himself greedy, merely wanting what he’s earned, but for her, he might be. 

Even when their goals finally align, when at last she accepts him as her ally rather than her enemy, it’s still barely enough. It’s consuming, this need, more dangerous than merzost and infinitely more seductive. He can almost forget the hunger clawing at his soul when he’s with her, the warmth of her bathing his skin, sinking deep. She’s so powerful it’s blinding, and yet so unbearably human. A mess of contradictions, his Alina, and he wants to take the time to explore all of them. 

In the early days they don’t have much time for exploration, as one age gives way to another. The first time they bed each other is fast and desperate, fueled by all the times they’ve been denied before. It can’t even properly be called bedding, since they don’t make it farther than the nearest table. They manage to fall into bed together by the third time around, and the sense of completion as he slides into her, their eyes locked on each other, is enough to make all the centuries it took to get there worth it. Anger still simmers between them, and he can’t be certain that she won’t try to kill him before morning, but for this, he might let her. 

In the aftermath, he foolishly thinks that this must be the pinnacle. He holds her to him, reveling in the heat of her body and how perfectly it fits against his. Her light calls to his shadows, even lying quietly together like this, their bodies and spirits tangling into a single whole. 

He doesn’t have the frame of reference then to imagine how anything could be better, but then time stretches before them, and the walls between them slowly crumble. They rebuild and their lives mesh into one another, weaving around each other until they become inseparable. She reminds him of things he’d left behind, and he shows her what could lie ahead. He finds his shadows reaching out to her without realizing, what should be an unforgivable loss of control, but he can’t deny them their other half. He doesn't ask if she feels it too, conditioned by centuries to avoid any hint of weakness.

And he knows that there's no way he can complete her the way she fills the ache in his soul. It's an emptiness that's only grown over those same centuries, widened and deepened into a chasm he could never admit existed. She's his match in every way, but she's only lived a mere couple of decades. He can barely remember being that young, that long ago time when he knew so little about what was to come, what real loneliness meant. 

He clutches her to him at night, without meaning to, his body reacting to his mind’s unspoken fear that she may yet disappear. She lets him, sometimes tucking her body into the contours of his, other times turning in his hold to wrap her arms around him in return. 

They’re laying like this one night, her head against his chest, his nose brushing her hair, both sated and drifting on the edge of sleep. Aleksander idly considers his tasks for the next day, while his sun summoner traces patterns of light over his skin. She draws back, and he relaxes his hold enough to look down at her. Her thoughts are heavier than he expected, some inner struggle creasing her brow. He doesn’t expect the question that follows.

"Did you feel it, before me?" She hesitates, as if searching for the right word. "The… emptiness?"

And he remembers that he didn’t feel that much older than her when he'd opened the Fold, tearing apart the very fabric of the world out of his grief and desperation and fear of losing the people he had left. She may not be able to match the age-worn depth of his feelings, but he shouldn't underestimate the depth of them. The young feel everything so much more fiercely, he remembers. 

His mother had tried to tell him, back then, that what he felt would fade. He'd known she was wrong then, but he knows it with earned certainty now. Age may have dulled the edges of that grief, but to lose it would be to lose a part of himself. Time has given him perspective for those emotions as it held onto their all-consuming breadth. 

One forgot the passion of youth at their own peril. He'd made that mistake with Alina already. So many years, and still so much to learn. 

“Yes,” he answers. It costs him a small sliver of his pride, but the price is well worth it. In his arms, Alina relaxes, losing a small thread of tension he hadn’t realized she held. “I thought it was my burden to bear,” he continues. “I never thought we could have this.”

Her lips curve in the slightest smile. “I didn’t know what I was missing,” she admits. “Until I found you, I thought that’s how it was.”

He tightens his arms around her, pulling her up for a kiss. He takes his time, exploring the lips he’s come to know so well, reminding them both of what they’ve found together. 

“It might’ve been,” he says as they break apart. “But in a world where we met, I could never have stayed apart from you.”

She responds with a blush and a contented sigh as her lips return to his. They lay there together in their bed, passing kisses back and forth for nothing more than the pleasure of sharing them. The night deepens and, eventually, sleep catches up to them.

Alina relaxes in his arms, eyes fluttering closed. His shadows slip across the room and extinguish the last lamp. Comfortable darkness settles over the room while in the bed, Alina wraps Aleksander in her light.

[sunnymusingsao3]

director's commentary: haunt me, then? :3c

Behind the Scenes: Fanfic Edition

Edit Post-Writing: Buckle up, friends, this got LONG (so sorry slkdjf)

So you, Crow, were there when we discussed the idea to haunt me, then, so I'll try and keep this about stuff that you may not have seen! However, before I do that, a quick tl;dr for those who did not see us hollering about this idea lol:

It happened right after we got the Rise of the Titans teaser trailer, back when we still knew so little about the movie itself. In the teaser, we saw Bellroc and their cool fire titan, and that spawned a whole myriad of ideas-- some earnest speculation, others just forming from the metaphorical playground because they were fun. One such idea that, if I remember correctly, was somewhere in between "wouldn't this hurt?" and "oh god what if it actually did happen?" was born, in order to explain why Skrael wasn't present in the teaser. Crow suggested the truly heartbreaking (compliment) idea that someone had to be sacrificed in order to raise the volcanic titan, and oh boy did that one gain legs.

So, moving on, I got permission from Crow to write this fic because the idea was just so good, and also because I was really in the mood to write something in the vein of horror, with romantic themes undercutting it. I was very enticed by the idea of monstrous love, and the different forms it can take, as well as the idea of loving someone so much that when it comes time to sacrifice them, you do it, because you know that not doing it would feel too much like coddling them. You have a mission that you both would lay down your lives for; to not allow your lover the chance to do so, when it is necessary, would feel like dishonor-- it would be an insult.

So this was the thesis of the fic, as it were; the central idea behind all of the themes and imagery that I wanted to explore.

Now on to some things that, to my memory, were not told to anyone as I was writing!

I toyed a LOT with the idea of Skrael figuring them out before they actually sacrificed him; I ended up landing on "he's suspicious, but doesn't stop them"

The reasons he has for not stopping them are: 1. It's his job 2. He was always prepared for the possibility that only one of them would end up making it to the new world 3. He wants to see if they did their research; was this an impulse decision, or are they really sure about this?

By the time they stop him from grabbing his staff, he is sure that it's not an impulse decision; that was his last reservation-- because if he can get his staff, he can fight back. But if they ensured that he couldn't even fight back, then it meant that they'd prepared for even the least likely outcome. It's not that he doesn't believe they know what they're doing, but it reassures him to know that they are taking extra measures to stay safe, and to make sure their plans come to fruition

In the final act, where they lean him over the volcano's lip, it's a much calmer version of what I'd initially had in mind, but I liked it better because the slow inevitability was more compelling to me. It felt like a natural progression. And if I wanted drama, it could come after, when the grief actually hits Bellroc, so there was less harm in delaying some of that higher emotion for a little bit later in the fic

The more dramatic version, however, was Skrael beginning to fall, and him grabbing their arm on instinct. It was a good image, the idea of him dangling openly, held only by a hand that he knows now is going to let go, but it also felt too much like Skrael didn't know what was happening beforehand, which didn't feel like the right character choice for him. He admits to being unfamiliar with the ritual they're about to perform, but the pieces rather start to add up, and he's always been good at reading Bellroc.

Speaking of that ritual, I imagined that he is less familiar with this one because it's one born of fire magic, and he just simply does not possess the necessary understanding of that magic to make it-- in his mind-- worth his while to read the spellbook it's in. He's surely dabbled in reading about fire magic a little, because it's smart to at least have some level of understanding when you live with a fire mage, but it's more like he was reading the Fire Magic 101 textbooks, while Bellroc was about to submit their PhD dissertation.

However, though he is less familiar with the ritual in the fic, I also like to think that he has a similar one in his own practice. He hasn't needed to use it, but he knows it, however distantly. I think it would involve a much, much slower death for his sacrifice, leaving them exposed to the ice and the elements, to slowly wear the person away. This would be why, if the Order were given the choice between Bellroc's ritual and his, Skrael would always push to be the sacrifice in theirs, because he does not think he could be steadfast enough to last the length of their death. With his death in theirs, he knows it would be quick, and they'd have little chance of changing their mind, but with them in his, he'd have to wait hours to days, and he just doesn't think he could subject them to that.

It's linked in the fic itself, so this is known, but the song that inspired this was The Horror of Our Love by Ludo. However, the other songs I primarily listened to for this were Eternally Yours by Motionless in White, Brutus by The Buttress, and a slowed version of Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer (blood warning). These helped set the mood, and then in between them, I wrote to darker classical music playlists on Youtube!

The quote at the end was almost the one from Black Panther, between W'Kabi and Okoye: "Would you kill me, my love?" "For Wakanda? Without question."

I went with the Wuthering Heights one, however, because it felt more appropriate to Bellroc's grief, and since that grief was focused on less in the fic than the sacrifice parts, I wanted to highlight it a little more

This was also an idea I talked about with Crow, but I wanted to share it here, too, since idk if it'll ever gain proper legs, but I really like the idea of, after this, Bellroc becoming the new North Wind, as well as the Keeper of the Flame, because I don't think you can truly get rid of the North Wind. But, perhaps the "powers that be" (whether that's something sentient or not) see that they've only really got two options left for who they could make the new North Wind, and, well, Bellroc's got his staff already, and they're right there when he dies, so maybe they just kinda... pop that magic right in there

It's a very AU idea though lol, so I'm not sure if there's enough grounded basis for it

However, if I ever did write it, I also really like the alternate idea of... the best way I can describe it is Greeling in FMA:B? Body sharing, basically, and Skrael being a whisper in the back of their head. When they want the North Wind to "take over" as it were, they don't change their form or anything, but suddenly, they grow very, very cold, and they can no longer perform fire magic, but ice magic, instead

I just think it would be neat to see the North Wind and the Keeper of the Flame as one person, whether it's only one soul in the body, or two!

This is one of like, three fics I've considered making a podfic for!

I think that's about everything I can think of off the top of my head, but if there's anything else you or someone else would like to ask about, please feel free to come into the inbox again! <3