#this is all that needs to be said on the matter as far as I'm concerned

[meo-eiru]

meru, i always did like elias but he really really has been growing on me lately and i just have so much appreciation for the way you crafted his character like it is legit so beautiful😭💔

there was this advertisement that used to play on tv when i was a kid, and i can't really remember what it was for or abt tbh, but it had this man that lived on the moon and everytime you post elias content i kinda just remember it somehow.

there's this sort of isolated air around him, all he has is his self and his darling, and even then — it's not like he can always keep them around, no matter how hard he tries. so he's kinda left there, stuck with himself so to say. someone he doesn't love, and in turn, struggles to see how anyone else can love. in his head 24 hours a day, thinking how he can use the only trait he has to his advantage.

i can imagine all those things eat him up little by little, which is why he's volatile at the slightest indication his darling could be losing interest. their stopping him from hurting himself, somewhere is soothing, like a headpat, bc it feels like they're telling him they still care despite all odds.

how does one recieve love they feel like they don't deserve? in a way, he builds a bubble around himself bc of that w/o knowing and then there's just this surmounting distance he doesn't know how to lessen. so man on the moon, staring at earth through his telescope everyday, but failing to feel its warmth bc though he revolves around it and monoplises the fact that he belongs in its orbit, he makes no move to get closer. constantly trapped in the thought that he is stuck where he is, and that place is an undesirable home.

idk know where i'm going with all this and i rambled a lot so you can just ignore it actually ahaha all i really wanted to say was that you're amazing and elias deserves quality hand-holding time😩💕

I LOVE THIS ASK!!!

You captured Elias as a character so so well.

Elias truly is like a miracle. People who used to ask me stuff about him should remember, he basically didn't have any story. I don't know if it was just sheer force of will, or if it was thanks to you guys, but he developed so much within these past few weeks he existed.

I've never seen the ad you mentioned but based on what you said it fits him so well. A lonely man who was thrown out of the bubble due to his biggest blessing, and keeping himself there without realizing.

So lonely, so desperate, so self aware yet too far gone to fix any of it. Thirsty for your love yet thinks he doesn't deserve it causing him to always be on edge. So contradictory, so unstable.

A man who so desperately yearns for your love, to feel alive, to know he exists, to know someone is seeing him. He doesn't care what happens to him in the progress, he just needs you and your love.

[mayapapaya33]

I just watched episode 107 and it is so fucking funny to me that half of these characters are so up their own asses that they somehow missed that the Archeart is trying to prevent Calamity 2: Electric Boogaloo with his plan, not save the Gods from Ludinus. The Gods apparently already have a Plan for dealing with Ludinus. That plan is to break the Divine Gate (I assume) and smite his ass. But the second they do that, it's game over and mortals are FUUUUUUUUUUCKED.

He basically said "Hey, you saw what we did to Aeor, we are about to do that to Ludinus as well, and there's going to be a LOT of collateral damage. Hurry the fuck up and chase us out of here or come up with a different plan already. Do something before Ludinus does, because we will make the decision for you at that point, and you will NOT like it."

The Archeart is actually much humbler than Bells Hells, this is wild. If I'm reading this situation right, he basically scanned them all up and down and figured them all out instantly; all of their resentment and anger and went, ok I know exactly how to act around these people. Then did what needed to be done to save his children from themselves and their own egos and resentment, because he knew they wouldn't listen otherwise. Amazing. I watched a switch flip in his eyes as he talked to Ashton, and it continued with Dorian.

Dorian in particular is so deep in his grief fueled anger and pain that there's no real way to reach him with logic right now, and I think the Archeart can feel it. So he just goes with it, 'whatever gets you moving in the right direction beautiful, I don't have time to deconstruct your vaguely racist (deist? no, deicist? lol) clumping of all the Gods together under the sins of one of us'.

I watched Calamity, I know what the Gods can do, if they feel like it (Vivid flashbacks of Zerxus getting his face ripped off). Dorian is throwing a temper tantrum because his brother is dead and he's sad and angry. He's feeling reckless and powerful because the Gods need his help, this is his opportunity to be cruel and spiteful and regain some control of his life and make the Gods feel small like he feels small! The Archeart knows that, and simply smiles and calls him beautiful.

With Ashton, the hilarious "Does it make you hard?" turns into a seemingly sincere confession of needing their help. It is true that he needs their help. But the help he needs is on their behalf, to save mortals from a second Calamity and free them from the Gods presence in their lives. The presence that, no matter how far removed or diminished in the world, some people will never stop seeing as a tyranny, truthfully or falsely. He's sacrificing his own pride and dignity to ask mortals to help him help themselves and being insulted for his troubles. And people still wonder whether the Prime Deities care about their children!

[hoe4hotchner]

Omg can we get a part 2 of rodeo please? I can't do too much angst but it was so good

Rodeo - part 2 | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

CW: starts in 3. person pov and switches to 2. person pov half way through, emotional distress, guilt and regret, unhealthy relationship dynamics, emotional confrontation, mentions of past emotional manipulation.

WC: 2,1k

Here's part 1 of the fic

I really wanted to make this even more angsty than the last part and with no sense of comfort at all, cause I really wanted to be a giant asshole to Hotch for no reason. But..... I'm a little nice today, so I made an open ending with a teeny tiny piece of hope for you guys

           The office felt different without her.

           Hotch’s desk was covered with neatly stacked files, reports waiting to be signed off, and yet, none of it mattered. His eyes had skimmed the same paragraph in the report in front of him three times now, but the words didn’t sink in. His mind was somewhere else - always back to her. The gnawing ache in his chest that had been there since that night months ago hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had grown, spreading through him like a poison he couldn’t shake.

           𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎.

           It wasn’t just the space she used to occupy in the bullpen or the silence in the elevator where they used to stand shoulder to shoulder. It was deeper than that. The realization had crept up on him slowly at first - missing her laugh, the way she could sense his mood even when he didn’t speak, the small things she did that calmed him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. But now, it consumed him.

           The truth was, he missed her in ways he wasn’t sure he could even admit to himself.

           He remembered how she had looked at him that night, her eyes filled with frustration and pain as they stood across from each other in the bullpen, the echoes of their argument still fresh in his mind. “I want something more.” Her voice had been shaky but determined, a mix of vulnerability and strength that struck him like a punch to the gut.

           And what had he done? He’d pushed her away. His fear of letting her get too close, of her seeing the parts of him he kept hidden from everyone, had made him say things he regretted. Words he could never take back. “I told you from the beginning what this was,” he had said, his voice cold, and detached. A lie to protect himself.

           He had let her walk away, convinced that it was for the best. But now, as the months dragged on, he realized how mistaken he had been.

           The space she left behind was unbearable.

           She wasn’t in the BAU anymore. He’d heard she’d been reassigned to another department within the FBI- something quieter, more predictable. He told himself it was better this way. She deserved a life outside the chaos of his world. But even though she wasn’t far, it felt like she was unreachable. The thought of running into her in the hallways, of seeing her around the building, had terrified him. He didn’t know how he’d be able to look at her, look into her eyes, and not feel the significance of his own mistakes crushing him.

           He missed everything about her.

           He missed her smile. The way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something. The warmth she brought into every room she entered.

           But it wasn’t just that.

           She had been the best thing in his life. The one thing that made him feel something beyond the reality of his rigid day-to-day structure. He had been a fool to push her away, to pretend like he didn’t care. And now, the weight of his own stupidity was drowning him.

           Hotch leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, the hum of the vents filling the otherwise quiet space. His mind replayed every moment of their time together, the stolen glances, the late nights, the spark between them, the sex that he had tried so hard to keep casual but had never been just that. It had always been more.

           The truth was, he had been afraid.

           Afraid of how much he needed her. Afraid of what it would mean to let her in, afraid that he would lose her to the job. But now, the fear felt insignificant compared to the hollow emptiness he felt without her.

           He had to get her back.

           The thought gnawed at him, day and night until it was all he could think about. He had rehearsed what he would say a thousand times in his head. But he could never bring himself to actually do it. Every time he thought about going to her, confronting her, something stopped him. The fear, the guilt, the uncertainty of whether she even wanted to see him again after the way he had treated her.

           But tonight was different.

           The late hour and the empty office only amplified the ache in his chest, and before he knew it, he was out of his chair, grabbing his coat, and heading for the door. His soul carried him toward her place before his mind could stop him. The drive felt longer than it should have, his heart racing with each mile that passed. What would he even say? How could he apologize for everything he had done?

           He didn’t have an answer, but he knew he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to try.

           The knock on your door sounded louder in the silence of the night, echoing through the quiet hallway. Hotch stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, throat dry as he waited. It had taken everything in him to get this far, to drive across the city, to stand in front of your door after months of silence. His hand shook slightly at his side, the importance of what he was about to do weighing down on him.

           He wasn’t used to this. This vulnerability, this sense of desperation that had been festering ever since you walked out of his life. Hotch was always the calm and collected one. But here he was, outside your door, drenched in the cold sweat of regret and longing.

           He knocked again, this time softer, more tentative, as if he was already bracing himself for the rejection he knew he deserved. His mind raced with what he would say, what words could possibly make up for the way he had hurt you.

           The door creaked open, and there you were. For a moment, Hotch couldn’t breathe. You stood there, surprised, your eyes widening slightly as you took him in. He looked rough as if the months had worn him down. His suit was wrinkled, his hair slightly disheveled - things you would never have caught him dead in. He wasn’t the composed, stoic man you were used to seeing. This was a man on the edge.

           You didn’t say anything at first. The silence between you was thick with unspoken tension, the memories of the past months hanging heavily in the air.

           “Can I come in?” His voice was barely above a whisper, strained as if the words physically hurt to say.

           You hesitated, your hand still gripping the edge of the door. Your heart raced in your chest, the recollection of that last argument flashing in your mind. The way he had dismissed your feelings, the way he had left you broken and alone.

           But there was something in his eyes - something so raw, something so vulnerable that made you step aside, giving him room to enter.

           The door clicked shut behind him, and the two of you stood in the middle of your small apartment. Hotch took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he shoved them into his pockets, trying to steady himself.

           “I know I’m the last person you want to see,” he started, his voice tight. “But I had to… I couldn’t keep going like this.”

           You crossed your arms, trying to protect yourself from the wave of emotions crashing over you. “What do you want, Aaron?” Your voice was sharp, and defensive. You didn’t have the energy to let him in, not after everything.

           He flinched at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I was wrong,” he said, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “I was so wrong. About everything.”

           You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over your face. “You just figured that out now?”

           His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “Yes. And I’m sorry. I was an asshole. I was too focused on my own issues, on the job, on… everything but you. And I didn’t realize what I was losing until it was too late.”

           You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Why now? Why come here after months? What’s changed?”

           Hotch’s eyes met yours, and you saw the flicker of pain, of guilt that he had been carrying all this time. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you! I can’t go a day without regretting what I said, what I did! You were… you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I threw it away because I was scared of losing it.”

           You shook your head, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill. “You hurt me, Aaron. You made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I was just something convenient for you. Something you could just discard.”

           “I know,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “And I hate myself for it. I hate that I made you feel that way because you’re not. You’re everything. You were everything to me, and I was too blind to see it.”

           Your breath hitched as the emotions you had tried to bury for months came rushing back. The anger, the pain, the longing for something you thought you would never have. You turned to face away from him for a split second. “And what? You think you can just show up here, say sorry, and we’ll go back to how things were?”

           He winced at your words, the truth of them stinging more than he’d expected. “No,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I don’t expect that. I don’t deserve that. But I need you to know… I need you to know that I want to change. That I miss you. That I’m not asking for anything other than a chance to make things right.”

           The air in the room felt heavy, the tension between you and Hotch thick, almost suffocating. You stared at him, your heart torn between the hurt he had caused and the undeniable pull you still felt toward him.

           “Why now?” you asked, your voice softer, more vulnerable. “Why couldn’t you've figured this out before?”

           Hotch ran a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret. “Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to let anyone in because I was scared of what that would mean. But you… you broke through all of that, and I didn’t know how to handle it. So I pushed you away.”

           You felt your throat tighten, the sincerity of his confession cutting through your defenses. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to push him away the way he had pushed you. But another part of you, the part that had loved him so deeply, wanted to pull him close, to forgive him, to believe that maybe he had changed.

           “I’m not asking for everything to go back to how it was,” Hotch continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know I’ve lost your trust. But… just give me a chance. Let me prove that I’m not that man.”

           You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of something new. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a desperation that you had never seen before, an almost heartbreaking vulnerability.

           “I don’t know if I can do this again, Aaron,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can let myself get hurt like that again.”

           Hotch nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “I know,” he said softly. “And I won’t push you. I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give. Just let me show you. Let me be there for you, the way I should have been from the beginning.”

           You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of the man who had hurt you, the man who had left you feeling broken and discarded. But all you saw was sincerity, regret, and a deep, aching desire to make things right.

           Finally, you took a deep breath, your heart still heavy with everything that had happened. “Okay,” you said softly. “We can try. But it’s going to be on my terms, Aaron. Not yours.”

           Relief washed over his face, and he nodded, his eyes softening. “Whatever you need,” he promised, his voice full of emotion. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

           For the first time in months, you felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find your way back to each other.

[rachetmath]

Weakest link

Cinder: Hello.

Jaune: Cinder.

Ruby: What do want?

Cinder: Salem wants all of you gone so she sent me her strongest agent to take care of all you peasants.

Jaune: Wow really? She sends her weakest agent to deal with us. Pathetic.

Cinder: Um excuse me.

Jaune: I said what I said. I mean come on she could have at least sent a more competent ally.

Cinder: Competent? I am capable to take care of you.

Jaune: Ruby can stare you to stone and we can kill you after. Hell isn't that the reason you had Neo fight alongside you?

Cinder: um.

Jaune: Speaking of Neo, how did she end up falling into the Ever After? You can fly so you could have caught her.

Cinder: Um…

Jaune: Oh no, why? Why did you let her fall?

Cinder: She threatened me!

Jaune: How?

Cinder: You see, we made a deal to kill Ruby together. As long as I get what I wanted.

Jaune: Which was?

Cinder: The relic of course and the maiden powers.

Jaune: I mean that was your fault. You fumbled the bag on maiden powers twice. Regardless, Neo brought you the relic. Twice

Cinder: And?

Jaune: And did you keep your end of the bargain?

Cinder: Well-

Jaune: No. Especially since she fell with the target. Has she ever complained or defied your orders?

Cinder: I mean no- I mean she brought it up but still.

Jaune: You mother- so Neo was being a decent person to you. And you decided to repay her by killing her. For nothing.

Cinder: … …

Jaune: Not to mention you used knowledge and now it's useless to everybody. Meaning Salem, who is in Vale, probably looking for the relic of choice, vigorously. Because somebody, you, used up the last question which would have made it easier to find. Dumbass.

Cinder: I mean… it's not that bad.

*Somewhere else*

Tyrian: My queen. Are you sure?

Salem: Yes, Tyrian, I want you to kill her and make Gillian my new maiden. And if you feel the need to, kill Mercury as well.

Tyrian: But ma’am-

Salem: Tyrian, Watts is dead. Ozpin is still alive and now the relics are useless to me. Both of them are. Because I don't have a scientist to use creation, you know, in order to construct and build new ways to upgrade the Grimm because Cinder left him to die.

Tyrian: … oh.

Salem: Cinder has failed me not once. Not twice. Not thrice. Not four. But five. Five times that girl has failed me.

Tyrian: What is the fifth one for?

Salem: Team Rwby.

Tyrian: Ah.

Salem: I let her side too many times. Six will not be the last. If she makes another mistake, get rid of her.

Tyrian: Yes my queen.

*Back to Cinder and Jaune*

Jaune: You dumb as hell. You are most definitely the weakest link.

Cinder: I-

Jaune: Heaven Academy, you and Raven were working together so how was Yang able to get the relic?

Cinder: Because Raven betrayed me.

Yang: Then how did Vernal die?

Cinder: I killed her.

Jaune: You got to be f***** with me right now. You killed Vernal, why?

Cinder: Maiden powers.

Jaune: … … …

Emerald: I should have probably mentioned this but we had a plan before but she changed it at the last minute.

Cinder: Emerald!

Emerald: I don't work for you now.

Jaune: Y'all had a plan before. Why didn't you use it?

Emerald: Ruby.

Jaune: Of course… of course. Ruby. Ruby is the main reason. And you… … you didn't -*laughs* you still haven't killed her yet. *laughs in harder* You- you had so many opportunities and still didn't kill her. Heaven I can understand but Atlas. Atlas. You didn't even attempt to look for her. You had so much time on your hands and you didn't do shit. Wow. Oh my God. *Laughs even louder*

Cinder: *embarrassed* you still can't beat me though.

Jaune: Oh baby for how many times I topped you, it's only a matter of time before I am fully capable of taking your life. Shit I almost did.

Cinder: Damn it. Well since we're on the topic, you, Jaune Arc, are the-

Jaune: No. I'm far from being the weakest link.

Ruby: Well I mean-

Jaune: Yang and Blake decided to give information to Robyn who before was prepared to start a fight with the military. Which caused us to be deemed traitors.

Ruby: Okay but-

Jaune: Yang loses many of her fights and sometimes she gets an attitude which escalates the situation making it worse than it needs to be.

Ruby: True But-

Jaune: Weiss barely does anything. In fact there were moments she was completely useless. And she has a variety of skills in her reservoir.

Ruby: Well-

Jaune: Qrow is a weaker link than all of us.

Cinder: *laughs*Damn right. You're right Jaune. *laughs louder* Like he saved Amber at the last minute. He should have had a glimpse of who we are. Mercury remembered before he could remembered us. And what so crazy was we infiltrated your school right, which should have cameras. He couldn't even try to identify us. Not that he could though considering he was an alcoholic so he probably forgot about us.

Jaune: Yeah he was. He even started a fight for no reason.

Ruby: Jaune-

Jaune: And then Heaven he was horrible. He was getting whooped more than us except Weiss. She had it worse.

Cinder: In Mistral and Atlas. Speaking of Atlas, Tyrian was under his watch. Tell me, why would he work with one criminal and then Tyrian against another hunter on duty. Then when Tyrain kills them and gets away he turns himself in. For what?

Jaune: Damn. He is an idiot. Worthless ass mother f****.

Ruby: Okay, Cinder I can ignore, but Jaune, that's my uncle and my teacher, please stop insulting him.

Jaune: That explains a lot on how your such a f*** up.

Cinder: Damn! Oh no, how is it possible for the whole family to be filled with weak links? *Laughs* Oh God. Oh God. No wonder their family is messed up.

Yang: *tears falling*

Jaune: Anyways Cinder, you are Salem’s worst ally. You have screwed her and your allies so bad that you might as well be the hero of the story.

Cinder: Huh.

Jaune: I mean a lot of Salem's plans have been compromised because of you. You and Ruby might as well be same because you both are a hindrance to those who work with you.

Cinder: Okay I let some of what you said slide but -

Jaune: Oscar stole your girl.

Cinder: … …

Jaune: He stole your only bitch. He upgraded from loli to hotty. No effort. Neo, who I'm sure isn't dead, will return. With a vengeance. And not just her. You got Raven. You got Winter. And you got myself coming after you. You might as well give up cause you ain't going to make it and what’s crazy about this is you brought this upon yourself. You're done. Give up. You had multiple opportunities but you fumbled all of them because of your damn ego. Better run and make a new life for yourself because if we catch you, you're done. Game over. Finished.

Cinder: Oh shit.

[honeycreammilkshake]

say what you want about this final chapter but i'm taking it as confirmation that yuuji was the one who finally taught sukuna about love.

this whole time sukuna has been trapped by his own thinking, his unshaken belief, that he was just as much a curse as someone like mahito.

but it's very telling that right after we see yuuji's face, his words that everything will end up alright, that sukuna appears. and more than that, he looks far more at peace than i would have expected him to be after losing.

yuuji is the only one to have treated him like a person, to open up with him, to show him true kindness and empathy. and unlike everyone else who saw sukuna as nothing but a monster, yuuji said sukuna could have a new start. that it was only a matter of chance that sukuna was the monster in all this.

yuuji humanized sukuna. he saw something inside the king of curses that nobody else could understand. yuuji saw himself in this monster, that they could have been two of a kind.

and it really did get to sukuna. not only did he fully acknowledge yuuji by calling him by his full name and not just "brat" but he also referred to himself as a "curse" as he died in yuuji's hands.

he chose death because he saw himself as only inhuman, but now in the afterlife he's reflected on yuuji's words. he finally realized that he has two paths he can go on, he has a choice. and yuuji was the one to give it to him.

and i think this change in heart is all owed to yuuji, who cradled sukuna even in his final moments and awoke that understanding inside sukuna. because yuuji out of everyone was the most sincere and understanding of sukuna, perhaps the only one who ever showed him real love. and in death, i think it comforted sukuna. he's gone "soft" and he's accepted it, because yuuji was the one who impacted him the most, who finally broke down sukuna's philosophy. (which is ironic considering how sukuna threatened to break down yuuji's). out of all the people who thought they would teach sukuna love, yuuji was the only who really could and really did.

this chapter was by no means fully satisfactory to me, but it's not what i fully expected and more than i could have hoped for, given the direction i feared we were going in.

sukuna's character finally being able to show that growth, learning what love is from yuuji, being able to accept everything because of yuuji's warmth even at the end... we won. yuuji really did teach sukuna how to love, and it started with making sukuna realize that he was capable of such a thing, that fulfillment was what he needed after all.

and just maybe this isn't the last we see of the both of them. i still have this crazy hope that their story isn't fully over yet. and even if it fully is, than it's far more of a happy (and hopeful) ending that i could have imagined.

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 5/?)

(I'm so sorry for the wait! I had horrible writer's block this month and am still figuring out a writing schedule. I know I said this would be posted yesterday but I had stayed up all night so you all wouldn't have to wait anymore, lol!)

111 ac

Daemons pov

I watch as my dear wife breaks her fast, she feasts on mutton as if it’s the finest roast in all the Seven Kingdoms. Gods these Vale men truly do love their sheep, they must fuck them and then eat them. Makes one wonder if you should worry for the whores, must be why their options in the brothels are so abysmal. As she eats I can’t help but feel a sense of rage that I had to leave you in tears just so I can sit here and have glaring matches with this Bronze Bitch. The thought of you brings back the memory of when I left. I don’t think there is a moment where I don’t think about it.

“No! Please don’t leave! Please! You promised! You promised you’d never leave me!” You sob out as you tug as hard as your little body can on the sleeve of my doublet. You are trying with all your might to hold me to your room and never let me leave. 

Your reaction is not blameworthy, for the last time I visited my Bronze Bitch was when you were only one nameday old. You have not had a day in your memory where I was not there by your side ready to wipe your tears or play whatever game you have come up with, most likely with the help of Lady Laena. 

I kneel in front of you and hold your hands in mine, I can’t help the ghost of a smile when you rest your head on my chest, trying to hide from the inevitable. “Your father, the King, has demanded this of me, my girl. If I could stay you know I would, but I cannot defy the King.” I say calmly as I stroke your hair.

You lift your head and look up at me, and I swear my heart shatters when I see those traitorous tears roll down your little face, those poppet lips pouting and trembling. I’ve never wished to kill my brother, but your little face looking so heartbroken makes me wonder if the day may yet come. The urge to release his shoulders of the dead weight of his head is 

“Bu–but Stromchaser will miss Caraxes. They took her babies. She's been so sad, and now she's losing Caraxes? Don’t do that to my Stormchaser.” You plead helplessly, trying to find any way for me to stay. A desperate little girl trying to keep her beloved Kepus from leaving her. 

I think about the day the Dragonkeepers had taken Stormchaser’s clutch. She went searching for them as if her very life depended on it, but since they keep the dragon eggs hidden in the deepest smallest caves she couldn’t find her clutch. Well more like she couldn’t reach her clutch. Supposedly Caraxes killed the ones who took them, exacting revenge on those who brought his girl’s pain.

“I know, Sweetling and Caraxes will miss his girls just as I will.” I say as I caress your cheek.

Just as I was about to climb on my horse to go to the dragonpit I heard your little voice yell out. “Wait!” I look back and see you running towards me holding your stuffed Caraxes and Stormchaser I had made for you. Your Nursemaid is trying to keep up and calls you back but you’re determined to get to me.

Once you caught up to me you held out your stuffed Stormchaser. You must see my confusion as you explain why you have the stuffed toy outstretched towards me. 

“So you and Caraxes don’t forget about your best girls.”

 I can’t help but smile and take the proffered gift. “Of course, and Caraxes staying so you and Stormchaser don’t forget about us?” I ask fondly but I am then confused when you shake your head. 

“Me and Stormchaser aren’t old like you and Caraxes, Kepus, we don’t need to worry about our memories like you two do.” You say matter-of-factly, and I can’t help the burst of laughter that erupts from me.

“Of course, you girls are looking out for us.” I say smiling.

“Princess please, it is time for your lessons!” your nursemaid says from where she stands far behind you.

“You best be going, Sweetling.” I say as I motion the nursemaid forward as I can tell you will most likely not be moving of your own volition. Once she has you in her arms I get on my horse and look at you one last time seeing you fighting your tears as I leave you. 

The only thing on my mind since then was yours and Stormchaser's cries. Yours for your dear Kepus to ‘come back!’ and Stromchaser calling for her friend, her bonded, her ma–

I’m cut out of the memory by a runner coming over to me holding a sealed scroll. “Fr-from Kingslanding, my Prince.” The boy says as he tries to catch his breath. 

I take the scroll and wave him away, the boy scurries off without question more than likely having to do another task that is of importance. I look at the seal and sigh in annoyance when I see it’s my brother's. Most likely reminding me of the lack of Children in my union and that I must change that. Why he thinks sending this missive will change anything about my union, I do not know.  I break the seal and look at it ready to storm out of this dining hall to train or fuck the day away, but instead, a smile comes to my face. 

It seems my brother has allowed you to send me a letter using his seal. The only words on the page is “I miss you Kepus.” and under is a stick figure drawing of me and you with Caraxes and Stormchaser flying in the sky behind us, or at least that is what I assume those blobs are as it seems you made wings for them.

I can’t remember what happened between me opening your letter, and me flying back to Kingslanding. But one thing is clear, unless my brother exiles me I will never leave your side again, and even then it will not be without challenge on his part.

I wait outside the gates of the Red Keep watching as Caraxes and Stromchaser fly through the sky together finally reunited. Right when I landed your winged beast came bursting out of the dragonpit, not even the strongest and most experienced Dragonkeepers could stop her. 

I keep wishing to twist the Valyrian steel rings my father and grandsire gave me but am reminded that they are now gone for what I had made for you. I look down at the one my mother gave me, so small it barely fits on my pinky finger and if I took it off most likely would never be able to get it back on, I could not bring myself to give up one of the few things she had given me before her passing. 

Once the gates open I get off my horse quickly as I see you sprint towards me, not even seeming to care that your father and mother call out to you. I bend down and scoop you up as you hold onto me as tightly as your little arms can. 

“I missed you so much, Kepus! Please never leave me again, I was so lonely without you.” you say as you cling to me as if, if you let go I will disappear.

Surely I should feel sorry for your loneliness but I can’t seem to find any type of sadness for you, only satisfaction that you need me no matter what that Cunttower says. I know a part of your loneliness was that your dear friend Laena had to return to Driftmark for the moon a week after I had departed, but I decided to push that thought to the side and smile knowing you need me to abate your loneliness.

“I missed you as well, ñuha riña, and trust me I will never leave you unless your father demands it of me.” I say. You look up at me and frown, not liking that I may leave you again, but Instead of crying or throwing a fit you nod pouting as you hide your face in the croak of my neck again.

(my girl)

When I walk over to my brother he smiles and rests his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve missed you, brother, I hope your time with your wife was fruitful?” he states and asks. 

Of course, he is worried about if I stuck my cock in that woman's cunt. Does he not get that if I did sheath myself in her it would either wilt away or be cut off by the razorblades in her blasted cunt? And even if I did try, there is no way something so innocent could grow in that septic chasm the Maesters call her womb. 

I only hum in response and turn my attention back towards you. You are watching as Caraxes and Stromchaser fly through the sky together, it almost seems as if they are dancing through the sky as if they are showing the world how dragons truly dance.  

“I seem to recall another pair that is not yet complete.” I say as I reach into my satchel and hold your stuffed Stormchaser. You gasp theatrically and hold the toy close as you smile up at me. I had made sure that it would not be stained in any way, going as far as making sure the maids of Runestone did not touch it.  

As I carry you into the Red Keep you tell me the story of why Lady Laena’s dragon was called Mongrel. “She liked to eat dogs! Can you believe that? When Laena found out she scolded Moonfyre, I’ve never seen Moonfyre so sad.” 

“That is most displeasing.” I say smirking as you nod enthusiastically, far too young to catch the hint of sarcasm in my voice. Gods I wonder how you would react if you ever find out that Caraxes has feasted on people. 

“And did you know Stromchaser was known as Grey Ghost? Supposedly because she was so shy they could only see in the clouds and mist, like a ghost, and because of the clouds and mist she appeared grey instead of white. At least that is what Maester Mellos told me in my lessons.” You say excitedly. I do not have the heart to tell you most know of this fact, for it is new and wondrous to you so I will listen diligently, as I do most things you tell me that I already know. 

After supper, you are still so hyper that you are running around your chambers as I pretend to chase you. I should not have snuck you that extra piece of cake, for everyone knows sugar to children is like a cup of coffee to a man. But you looked so darling clutching that fork in your precious tot fingers I just couldn’t say no when you requested another. 

When I pick you up you squeal in delight, as I tickle your sides until you beg for mercy. I sit you on your bed and pull out a gift for you from my pocket. I hold out a bracelet made of Valyrian steel, with pearls and a ruby on the chain, there is a dragon charm to represent the blood of the dragon that flows through you. “This is for you, ñuha riña. It is Valyrian steel for now, me and you share something of our shared lineage.” I say as I clasp the bracelet to your little wrist and kiss your palm once it is fitted. 

You gasp and look at the bracelet touching the pearls and ruby. “I love pearls and rubies, it’s beautiful Kepus! I’m never taking it off!” You say as you hug me tightly. 

I only smile and kiss your brow as you admire your new gift, when I look to your door I see Rhaenyra seething. I brush it off as I usually do with that over-dramatic girl I call niece.

Rhaenyra’s pov

I watch as Daemon teaches you High Valyrian, he’s always done such things with you but never once in my memory has he done so with me. You so effortlessly captivate his attention whereas I must fight for it, and even then I am lucky if it is a forced smile. And now you have something I’ve always wanted, something I’ve begged Father for, for the past three years. A piece of Valyrian jewelry. 

You get everything I’ve wanted so easily. A dragon at the age of three, while I had to wait till I was the age of seven before Father let me into the dragonpit. A larger dragon than my beloved Syrax, so now everyone only speaks of that or that your Stromchaser was a wild dragon. What a silly little name. 

You have a friend you share interests in while I have Alicent, a kind girl if not a dull one. 

And the one that boils my blood the most, is that you have Daemon’s love and affection. I have desired this, him, for as long as I can remember. But does he look my way? No, of course not, for why would he waste his time on a girl who is almost a woman grown instead of a child? 

The only thing that brings me respite is that even if he did marry you, you’d only be his broodmare to pump his children into while he would seek me for true pleasure. I am called the Relams Delight for a reason.

I’m cut out of my mussing when my Father walks up to me. “I know you wish for something of our Valyrian heritage. I have been working hard to find the perfect one, I had not known that Daemon would give up his rings to have something made for your sister. Know I have not forgotten your request, my beloved girl.” He says as he strokes my cheek. 

I suppose there truly is something I can beat you at, our Father's love.

I personally see this as Princesses bracelet. The green bead is a ruby and the silver beads are pearls.

@sugutoad @baybaybear1 @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff

big thanks to my wonderful friend @sugutoad for making the banner for this fic.

[swannieluv]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Wasted youth.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Platonic!Ajax x GN!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 11k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: violence, blood, death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐀/𝐍: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope everyone can enjoy this <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩. 𝐛𝐲 Tempo Perdido - Legião Urbana

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

Snezhnaya is not exactly a friendly nation. The cold that seems to run from the veins to the depths of people's innermost being brings with it a certain hostility towards those who don't know the heart of the land. But within Ajax's distorted childhood perception, Snezhnaya was like a gentle mother, protecting its children under icy embrace.

But then, why did such a loving land allow its own child to fall into the deepest depths of the Abyss? Like drowning in freezing water, a child who survived Teyvat's darkest and loneliest place would certainly not come out of it the same as he went in.

"Ajax" was still Ajax, wasn't he? The same child, named after a hero from ancient tales, full of compassion and empathy, now carried with him a gaze that was deader than the fish he caught on ice.

Joining the Fatui wasn't in his plans for the future; being one of them wasn't so bad, although he wasn't expecting much for the future. But what he didn't like was being the youngest in the unit, it was a complete humiliation.

Not that the seniors were a challenge for him, but being constantly underestimated was... infuriating, to say the least. While his strength was admirable — thanks to Skirk, he would thank her someday — Ajax felt constantly bored, with no meaningful challenge ahead of him.

"Redhead!" The call was accompanied by a snowball, which hit him square in the face; his moment of peace was interrupted, though it didn't really matter.

Ajax could only sigh before letting out a soundless laugh, knowing exactly who had hit him: [Name], a recruit not much older than him, maybe a year or so. Being under the same division, it wasn't unusual to bump into them. "Here it comes..."

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances. However, they also kept in touch enough to be just "acquaintances". Never friends, perhaps not at all.

As if he had some kind of radar, [Name] always appeared whenever Ajax had his rare moment of philosophical thought of questionable quality. Usually to disrupt the whole process.

" Damn, looks like you really found me," he laughed, turning to look at them.

"That's the third time I've had to look for you this week," they complained, carefully preparing another snowball to throw at him. "I always get scolded because of you, you know that?"

They weren't exactly wrong. Whenever Ajax wandered off the map, it was [Name] who had to look for him in the frozen woods. Not that they really bothered to do it, but it was tiring going around in circles until they found him.

"Look at it as part of your job."

"Babysitting...?"

"No, looking after your companions."

"... How idiotic."

"How heroic. It's very noble to look after your friends, you know?" Ajax corrected. His eyes returned to scanning the surrounding trees in a relaxed manner.

"Not when said 'friends' get into trouble all the time," they retorted.

"I always come back, it's not like you need to hunt me down like I'm some criminal on the loose." He shook his head briskly, brushing the snow off the top of his hair. However, he was greeted with another sharp shot right to the scalp.

"Look... So, all due respect, but you're not far off being one, you know?" they shyly replied. Not in a rude way, but still a little offensive to whoever it was directed at.

He didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended by what they said. Maybe both? Well, they weren't exactly wrong... Ajax was already considered a marginal project, or at least it seemed that way.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? You have to specify or I won't know,” his smile fell, replaced by a neutral expression. He tried to feign ignorance, but it didn't work very well.

"Don't be cynical. You beat up an older soldier. Aren't you a little ashamed?”

Which soldier were they talking about? It didn't matter to him anyway, as he'd lost count of how many he'd challenged and won — it wasn't a difficult task, they were never a match for him.

All too often they were weak, and [Name] was the worst of them all. That's why Ajax didn't even bother trying when inviting them to a duel, because the result was obvious from the start. The last time they sparred, it was be boring, easy and not worth the effort.

"Should I be? If a soldier almost two meters tall can't beat up a 14—year—old, then that means he's a weakling, doesn't it?" Ajax crossed his arms. "Besides, he called me names before, so we're even."

"Seriously..." they sighed, "Seriously, try not to make such a fuss. The Fifth can get you out of most trouble, only until you do something, let's say, really catastrophic."

"Something catastrophic like...?" he asked curiously, his gaze fixed on them.

"Like... burning down the Zapolyarny palace?"

His jaw dropped in shock, and a touch of offense showed on his cold—pink face. That was the most absurd thing he had heard in recent times. "What?! Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"Because it's you we're talking about, redhead."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I think it's funny, don't you?"

"You know... whatever." Ajax put his hands on his waist, shaking his head slightly. "I'll take that as an excuse to put a nickname on you too."

"So you're going to stop with the ' comrade' thing and come up with something even worse? Really?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. Who knows?"

The boy gave a relaxed smile, patting them on the shoulder before moving on. His heavy footsteps in the snow served as a background noise to the uneasy silence around them.

"I found it."

"Hm? Found what?" Ajax raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

[Name] pulled out a red scarf, so familiar to Ajax, from inside their backpack, carefully tying it around his neck. The fabric was warm, or perhaps it was the feeling of zeal, or also the nostalgia it brought.

Ajax hadn't realized he had left it behind. And when he realized it, the difference between the cold air and the protection of the scarf was remarkable — was he so distracted that he didn't notice?

The boy's gloved hands touched the soft fabric of the scarf, bringing it closer to his face and snuggling into the warmth. "Where did you find it, comrade?"

" Somewhere, it doesn't matter." They put their hands in the pockets, looking around at the landscape around them. "Aren't you afraid of getting lost in the forest?"

Ajax let out a genuine laugh when he heard their question, as if it were something ridiculous. "Getting lost? I know my way around pretty well."

[Name] narrowed their eyes, firmly disbelieving Ajax's words. For them, the scenery remained the same, no matter how far they went — well, they didn't go very far at all.

"What? It's all the same, like... just trees and snow everywhere."

Ajax held back a laugh, as if what they'd said was completely dumb. "You're not from Snezhnaya, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Were you trying to hide it at all?" He couldn't help but laugh at the redness that appeared on [Name]'s face.

They were almost the scarlet color of their vision, which they proudly carried on a chain attached to their jacket. Pyro and Hydro, it was yet another thing that made them so opposite from each other.

"You know what, never mind! Just follow me." They extended a hand towards him, an almost forced offer.

Ajax hesitated, staring at the hand in front of him for a few long seconds before accepting it. He held it with some hesitation, not wanting to apply more force than he should have. He didn't mean to hurt, but he also had moments when he couldn't control his own strength.

They walked together through the snow, their steps in perfect sync. He noticed these small details as he looked down at the ground, thinking over and over again about an endless cycle. Sometimes, he just let that little silence take over his head, alone without direction, lost in the image of his own breath coming in the form of fog.

[Name] mumbled something, Ajax nodded, but forgot all about it soon after. They knew he wasn't paying attention, but didn't care, increasing the strength with which they held his hand.

"You don't like it here? Is that why you keep running away?"

"It's not running away if you come back.”

[Name] genuinely felt like punching Ajax in the face every time he opened his mouth and let out some stupid reason like this, but they would obviously leave it to imagination. The willingness wasn't lacking, but the courage was.

Perhaps if they were stronger, braver, they could say what they really wanted. But they weren't, and that kept them behind a fine line between the two, where Ajax always seemed to be in the front.

Everything in Snezhnaya, absolutely everything, filled them with an internal revolt. The cold that seemed to freeze them inside, the infinitely same path that seemed to lead nowhere, not being taken seriously — but for now, they would do anything to please those on top, especially since they were the ones in control of everything anyway.

"Don't ignore my question, go on. I know you heard me."

As soon as they arrived at the camp, they were greeted by an angry soldier with a large purple eye. That was the man Ajax had hit, and clearly he didn't look happy.

"Look, the bastard's really back," he said sarcastically, snapping his fingers. "Are you going to come at me for no reason like a savage again, like you did earlier?"

"Liar," they retorted, shaking their heads in denial and pointing a finger at the soldier, "you previously morally attacked Ajax, an exemplary boy..."

Ajax nodded, crossing his arms. Exemplary was by far what he was, but he had to agree with those who defended him. What he didn't expect was that they would retract their words soon after.

"...sort of."

"A... gentle boy?" They gave him a sideways glance, as if for confirmation; all he got back was a slight shake of the head.

"sort of..."

There was a lack of good adjectives to describe what he was — what he had become.

It would be less work if they just called him strong, but they didn't. They didn't want to reduce him to something. They didn't seem to want to reduce him to something the soldier in front of them already knew. Or rather, they didn't want to reduce Ajax to a simple strong boy.

They cleared their throats with a smile, grabbing Ajax by the collar, "Give us a second!"

Honestly, he was expecting a beating, not a strategy meeting behind a bush — not that he was going to complain, but at least he was hoping for a fight or something. His clenched fists contained the real desire to punch that soldier right in the face, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

"'Sort of', really?" Ajax mimicked with a playful tone.

They rolled their eyes, fidgeting. "One of two ways: either I lie by calling you dumb, or I lie by calling you stupid!"

His jaw dropped for a moment. Was Ajax that stupid in their eyes? Not that he was the most self—controlled or straightforward person, but that dumb was an insult. "Oh, but I'm not dumb!"

"Perfect! Then you're stupid!"

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Just as they didn't understand him, Ajax didn't understand them one bit.

"Seriously, I'm trying to help you... but then you have to help me help you."

"I think you've got it wrong. I appreciate the attempt, not to be rude... but I don't think I asked you to help me in the first place." He tried to smooth it over somehow, with that annoying little smile of his.

They felt their eyes ticking just hearing him, but soon pulled themselves together and returned the smile with a sarcastic tone intertwined with the words, "Really?”

"Mhm!" Ajax smiled. "Then I'm going for it, you said!"

Ajax ran off, abandoning them behind the bush to do whatever he wanted. Training, fighting, getting into another fight... it was all very unpredictable when it came to someone as peculiar as Ajax.

[Name] stood there, letting out a sigh as he thought about how weird this boy was. But there was no denying that Ajax was truly exceptional at getting out of trouble, and that made them more and more curious about him.

Sometimes, before going to sleep, Ajax would close his eyes and think about the day he'd had. He would ponder how small details were so easily erased — he couldn't remember who accompanied him on the march, or the name of the guy he had hit. But it was okay, it was fine not to remember.

The important thing was to keep going, without wasting time, and to move on. Ajax didn't need anything else, or anyone else, just himself to become very strong.

"Here you go, redhead." He was called by [Name], who threw a pillow right in his face.

" Man, you really like throwing things at me, don't you?" complained, pulling the pillow away from his face, "Have I become a punching bag now?"

"You forgot your pillow. If you wake up with a stiff neck, you'll be complaining in my ear all day tomorrow."

"I don't complain—"

"You think you don't, but you nag like an old man!"

Ajax threw himself backwards, lying on the mattress hugging the pillow close to his face. He muttered irritably to himself something almost inaudible, something that [Name] could only wish weren't curses in their direction.

"Look, I don't know what kind of problem you have," Ajax began, rolling his eyes in frustration, but soon changed his tone to something more playful, "if you want to settle something with me, come fight. Unless you're too much of a chicken not to fight someone younger and stronger than you."

"Whatever" [name] grumbled as they adjusted the flame of the lamp with their vision, "I already know I have zero percent chance against someone like... you."

"Why, comrade? It's not like I'm going to kill anyone in sight or anything like that." He smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, of course, and I'm a slime" [name] sarcastically answered.

"Honestly, I don't mean to offend you or anything..." Ajax sat up, running a light hand through his hair to remove it from his face. "But I really wonder how someone so coward got into Fatui. I mean, you're afraid to even hold your own bow."

[Name] listened attentively to his words, but kept their gaze fixed on the lamp in her hands. It was the only source of warmth between them at the moment, and they couldn't let it go out so soon.

"The reason I'm in Fatui..." Their eyes did not leave the flame in hand, carefully observing the orange color that reflected on everything around him. [Name] avoided this question whenever it was asked, because they knew they weren't strong, and didn't force themselves to be, but the truth was too shameful.

"I believe I am indebted to Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa. I must render my services for her generosity, and also... for this little thing here, which has guaranteed me everything I have now."

They picked it up and swung it around, the vibrant red gemstone seeming to emanate heat in a veritable mirage. Even though the temperature was almost below zero, it still retained its tiny hints of flame.

"Well, I guess that's it. I was born like anyone else, subject to mistakes and defects. But I don't think I'm worthless, after all..." they paused for a single second, letting out a sigh before continuing, "even doormats have their uses."

Ajax's face softened as he listened to them. He was speechless, sincerely mute without an answer to their words. No silly comment came to mind, just nothing. He waited a while in silence before finally asking: "Wow, that was something..."

"I think we've talked enough about me, what about you?" They asked with a little smile, and Ajax relaxed a little.

"About me? Hm... I think I have several stories! Like today when I punched that guy!" he cheered, throwing a fake punch in the air to represent his fight.

[Name] let out a simple laugh, amused by his actions. They thought the boy was a piece of work, silly but very funny; also very intriguing in every respect. At fourteen, joining the Fatui and doing well was something out of this world from everyone else's perspective.

"No, silly! I don't care about that sort of thing." They shook their heads in denial.

Ajax blinked twice, confusion clear on his face. "What...? So what do you want to know, anyway?"

They patted his head lightly, making Ajax turn as red as a tomato. It was unexpected, and he didn't know how to react to it, he wasn't prepared, but it wasn't that bad either. For the first time in a long time, Ajax allowed himself to receive a bit of care.

"Tell me, redhead," they called him by that silly nickname again, getting a funny look from him, "do you miss home at all?"

"Homesick? Hm... I don't know, I don't think so."

"Lying to yourself is always the worst kind of lie, so don't do this."

"If I really miss home..."

Home. Did Ajax really miss home? It was very hard for them to guess what was going through his head when all he did was fight and cause trouble. Although he had his ridiculous faults, there was still a gentle child inside, deep down.

Ajax was about to answer when it finally hit. It was the kind of question that nobody really asked in the Fatui. Everyone usually acted in accordance with their situation, there was no room in the Camp for whining.

The only tears were those that were left on the pillow, turned upside down as soon as the first rays of sun appeared in the morning. Hidden, sealed away from the gaze of others, while everything continued in the shadows.

He remembered perfectly the day he left home, beginning his career as a soldier.

Ajax checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. He didn't mind the state he was in, with a few scars on his hands and small scratches on his face from the mess that had occurred before he was enlisted — but he couldn't look relaxed either, Ajax needed to look presentable for some reason.

He could hear some whispering, not so quiet, of children behind him. He could see their reflections, curious as ever, but pretended not to have noticed, not wanting to end their failed attempt at spying.

When the clock finally struck a certain time, he knew it was time to go. Ajax had been preparing since the day before, when he received the news. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Ajax had no voice after everything he had done.

It was easy to feel the blood on his hands, even though he had washed them over and over again. While his combat skills were fascinating, it was frightening to see how easy it was to seriously hurt someone.

But at the same time, he felt the adrenaline of fighting pulsing through his veins, bringing with it an insatiable desire for battle. He didn't have a strong enemy, he didn't have anyone who could challenge his skills in this little corner of the world he lived in. Being the strongest shouldn't be so boring, at least not for him.

When he stepped out of his room, the first thing he saw were his little siblings. Their faces were full of questions, asking for an answer as to where he was going, why he was leaving and other questions that Ajax wasn't allowed to answer, nor was he in the mood to answer them.

This was what he really dreaded, the farewell.

He hugged each sibling as if it was the last time seeing them, his eyes filled with anguish disguised as emotion and tears that weren't exactly shed. He felt a knot down his throat — how hard it was to try and keep a smile, with such a conflicted feeling in his chest.

Perhaps that was the hardest part, because the younger ones had no idea where their older brother would end up. They didn't know that he was going where no other child should go. The only excuse he could come up with was something about a fantastic toy factory, and they bought it.

He swallowed it all, keeping his typical charisma in a comforting smile. Blindly lying to himself that all that was to come was just a distraction where he could meet stronger people, bigger obstacles and climb them without hesitation.

He ran down the stairs as if it was the last time, and it would be, because long gone was the boy who once smiled here. Hearing the children's voices saying casual goodbyes, as if it were just another ordinary day and that he would be back soon. Touching the banister, sliding along and feeling the texture of the wood, brought a little sadness. It was full of scratches and loose splinters, just the way he would remember it.

Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of wax invade his lungs for one last time. Little did he know, but this would become another moment for nostalgia in just a few days.

He hesitated to leave that warm place, so precious and cozy that it was the only thing capable of bringing a tear to his eyes after leaving the abyss. Not all things in life work out the way we want them to, and he needed to learn that, if only in the harshest way possible.

"Discipline" was what it was supposed to be, a form of punishment for all the trouble he had made. Like a staircase, Ajax climbed step by step in his acts of violence until he reached the irreversible point of his insatiable hunger for battle

But life always takes its toll. And for Ajax, life decided to give, demand and take away almost instantly.

Saying goodbye to his mother, who wrapped a red wool scarf around his neck, Ajax could only keep smiling. If it hadn't been for the hesitation and worry in her eyes, distressed that her young son would end up in a place like the Fatui, everything would have been so much easier.

"My little warrior," she called him, a cheesy nickname that suited the wild boy perfectly. While it was ironic in the past, given that Ajax was a big scaredy—cat, today it was just dumb, "Don't cause too much trouble... please."

The last sentence came in the form of a very faint whisper, which went almost unnoticed by Ajax. A real plea, almost desperate because of the lack of credibility he had at that moment. She didn't believe in him, evident in the exacerbated concern she showed in her mannerisms.

And if to comfort her, then Ajax was willing to put on his best and most convincing cheerful mask. He had always been a boy who loved his family, and that was something that not even the claws of the Abyss could take away from him.

"Yes, Mom."

Ajax did his best not to sound the least bit false when lying to his mother — He was, he couldn't deny that — But at least Ajax did it convincingly until he could gently slip away from her gentle touch.

"I'll take care of myself. Brush my teeth, comb my hair..."

"And eat well," she added, brushing the dirt off his clothes, making him more presentable.

"...And eat well, leave it to me!"

The woman sighed, letting go of the boy. With her watery eyes turned to the side, she shook her head as if to pretend that everything was fine — an attempt to make it clear that everything was all right, that Ajax shouldn't worry. But in the end, it was to comfort herself.

"Go..." she murmured with a sad smile, shaking her face slightly to let the tears go where they shouldn't, "go with your father before you're late, and don't stir up trouble, see? Your poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'll do my best, stay super strong and—"

He was interrupted by a small smack on the head from his father; it wasn't painful, not in the slightest... but it hurt for some reason, somewhere deep inside. All he did was look up, shrug and smile as usual.

"Let's go." That was the call Ajax had been waiting for to.

This was a moment of farewell, but he remembered that it wasn't eternal. Someday, he would return home with his chest puffed out and a huge, proud smile on his face — well, that's what he hoped for.

And so, the troublemaker set foot outside his home to become what no one, not even he, expected him to be one day. Looking back at his past, his younger self, fearful and innocent, disappointed but admiring, came to mind.

An icy breeze was the first thing that greeted Ajax when he opened the door and encountered the standard whiteness of the outside scenery. It was sudden, as if to extract any remnants of warmth he felt. People would say it was a good omen coming from the Tsaritsa, a sign of good fortune on his new path.

And it's what Ajax would like to believe.

"Ajax?"

Their voice woke him from his memories, bringing him back to reality. And then suddenly, he was back in that tiny tent, the one he had never left.

"Sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" He covered his eyes with his forearm, tiredness was starting to set in.

"Just a little bit." [Name] decided to lie down too, covering themselves with their own blanket. Their hands then went to the lamp, offering it to him, "Can you use your vision to put it out?"

"Can't we just... not put out the fire?" Ajax asked weakly.

[Name] blinked twice in surprise, then cracked a smile to tease him. "What's the matter, are you afraid—"

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark..." he cut them off in mid—sentence, turning around so that he wasn't facing them. With his face covered by the pillow, Ajax lowered his voice. "But leave the fire burning, just for now... please."

It was the first time [Name] had seen him so vulnerable, with his guard down. With such a sincere request, they were at a loss for words — even though they really wanted to understand.

"Right..." They hesitated slightly as they released the lamp. "Sweet dreams, Ajax."

Without replying, they sighed. [Name] then put their head on the pillow, looking at him with a certain empathy. But then again, it was none of their business; he would tell them when he felt comfortable.

That night would be a long one, with the two of them lying awake without exchanging a single word.

Sometimes [Name] questioned their own common sense, especially when they followed Ajax's foolish ideas. Normally, the two of them would get into trouble and be forced to do the daily tasks because of it.

But after days of insistence on his part, they had finally agreed to go ice fishing in the middle of the night because it was the only free time the both had. Did they know how to fish? No, and certainly not on ice, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hm... I don't see anyone," Ajax whispered as he looked through a gap in the tent, making sure no one was awake at this hour.

"Hang on, I can't put these on!" [Name] tried to put their boots on, but couldn't make a decent knot. They were already frustrated, tying them any way and untying them when they realized it didn't lead anywhere.

Ajax let out a chuckle, their desperation to put on simple boots was utterly comical, "Let me help you."

"I can do it myself!" [Name] stared at the tangled shoelace with a certain determination, trying to undo what they had tied.

"You said that last week, yet you couldn't do it and we lost the training—"

[Name]'s face heated up in embarrassment. What he said was true, the two of them had missed it, all because they didn't know how to put on the boots offered with the new uniform, and had to clean the weapons as punishment — not that Ajax cared, it seemed he had only focused on admiring the swords and guns rather than cleaning them.

"Shh! That's in the past!" they tried to shut him up.

Ajax shook his head slightly. He knelt down and stared at the blind knot they had tied, taking his hands to the shoelaces to straighten out the mess. "I'll teach you, check it out."

He carefully tied their shoes, making a firm loop. It was just like at home, when he helped his younger siblings put on their boots to play outside. When recalling this, an unconscious smile appeared on Ajax's lips, followed by a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?" [name] asked, offended.

"No—" Ajax looked up, and then laughed, seeing the funny look they were making. "Yes, I am now!"

[Name] grabbed him by the cheek, hurrying him out of the tent with them. "Stop laughing, they'll wake up and it'll be our doom!"

"All right, all right!" Ajax exclaimed, removing their hand from his sore cheek. "You talk just like my mother when she scolds me..."

[Name] looked at him, smiling before teasing him. "No way, I mean, I pity your mother for having to put up with a son like you."

Ajax's frowned, he really did look offended by what they had said. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I've always been a very well—behaved child!"

"Oh, sure... if you say so, who am I to doubt it?" they agreed sarcastically. There wasn't a shred of confidence in his word.

There were endless minutes of walking and exchanging small insults. Under the moonlight, the two made their way calmly, getting further and further away from the camp. If they were lucky, no one would find out that they had run away.

They would be fishing in a frozen lake, a large mirror that reflected the light of an aurora. It was a breathtaking sight, as if they could touch the sky, and they took a cautious first step onto the it.

"Damn!" They slipped, having only the instinct to hold on to something.

"Whoa! Watch it there, comrade!" Ajax helped them regain their balance, holding them up by the arms. He took slow steps backwards so that [Name] wouldn't slip again.

[Name] smiled a little awkwardly, embarrassed. "Thanks but... This ice won't break with us on it, right?"

Ajax shook his head and firmly tapped his foot on the frozen surface, which remained intact. "It's pretty sturdy, see?"

"I see." [Name] turned their attention upwards and admired the greenish glow again. " Snezhnaya's night sky is a fascinating sight, isn't it? Even though I've seen it several times, I'm always amazed by its beauty..."

Ajax had already seen the real starry sky, the true and uncovered light of the celestial bodies. To refer to this gloomy canvas as a "fascinating sight" is an absurd statement, for it is only an empty imitation of what lies beneath the veil of the Abyss.

"You're really satisfied with anything, huh?" Ajax scoffed, with a hint of a smile on his face, "It's just floating lights, it gets boring after a while."

"Is there anything that doesn't get boring for you?" [Name] watched as Ajax started to cut the ice in a circular pattern, which appeared to be a not too difficult job for him. "Are you sure this works? I mean, it's just ice... I don't know if there's anything alive down there."

Ajax sat, eyes fixed on the hole in front of them. He hugged his knees and remained there, staring at the immensity and waiting for what would happen next. "Don't worry, we'll catch one in... a few minutes, I think."

"In about how many minutes, exactly?"

Ajax looked up thoughtfully. "A few."

"I swear to the archons, if you made us come here for nothing..." [Name] grumbled, watching the boy next to them. The way he insisted on his ideas impressed them, at the same time as it irritates; but seeing that serene face made them let out a little laugh, "Never mind, I'm the idiot one for following you."

[Name] sat down next to him, resting their face in one hand as Ajax and them waited patiently. Those moments of serenity were the complete opposite from the battles that took place everyday.

They had already seen several "comrades" fall, their lives taken while protecting the Fatui's interests. Interests that were unknown and hidden from the vast majority, concealed by individuals whose faces were unknown to many.

The Harbingers themselves were a kind of urban legends who, while everyone knew of their existence, were enigmatic and symbolic figures within the organization.

"What exactly are we fighting for?" [name] asked. There wasn't exactly a reason, because no one ever said the real purpose of the blood shed on the snowy battlefield.

Everyone's admiration and fear of the Harbingers was obvious. But just as they were feared, the kind of people whose presence is everywhere, there were more questions than answers as to their real motivation.

The closest they had seen was the Fifth, Pulcinella. [Name] didn't understand why they had been placed in his division, being a complete fool who couldn't hold a weapon without getting nervous. Even more so when, in the same division, there was Ajax.

A confused expression appeared on Ajax's face when he heard the question. Wasn't the answer obvious? At least, it was logical. "For Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa—"

"No, I know that. I'm talking about why we need to fight, the purpose of it all... We have a mission in a few days, and we don't even know what they want from us."

"I fight because I'm strong, isn't that enough?" Ajax seemed genuine in his response, with no hidden ambitions behind the battles he fought against his opponents. At the end of the day, it seemed to be all about the will to get stronger and better.

"No, it's not." [Name]'s gaze was serious, demanding an answer that would satisfy their curiosity. For them, Ajax was an extremely difficult puzzle to solve — a young boy who possessed the strength of a monster. But at the same time, had a heart as pure as gold. "Your name... was inspired by a hero, right? Do you want to be like them, the hero of the story?"

Ajax nodded, giving them a smirk. He remembered the old days, when he wasn't the least bit brave or powerful, just a fearful boy with a sword and a dream. "I think I'd rather be myself. It's much more fun when you do things your own way, don't you agree?"

"Well... it is, it really is." [Name]'s firm gaze softened. "Ajax, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy froze in place. His mouth opened to speak, but the words he wanted to say didn't come out. He had no answer, even if he thought about it — Ajax simply didn't know.

"When I grow up..." he repeated to himself, looking for an answer, any answer. "I honestly don't know... I think I'll end up having to stay in Fatui."

"Idiot..." [name] grumbled, "I'm not saying you can't do what you want, but let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. Who would willingly stay in this hellhole?"

"Me," Ajax answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation in his speech, "If I go back home, I'll only make more trouble. Just the fact that I'm here makes life easier for everyone, and I can improve my skills."

"Of course you'd say that." They shook their heads, completely disapproving of his choice. They got up from where they sat, offering him a glance. "I envy you, you know that?"

"Hm? You..." Ajax looked up and pointed at them, then at himself. "...envy someone like me?"

"How can I not? You're strong, hopeful, stubborn and very proud," [name] listed, raising a finger for each adjective they found to describe him. "How can I not envy someone like you? You're like..."

"Everything I've always dreamed of being like."

They both uttered the same sentence at the same time, their voices becoming a unison sound that gave way to an awkward silence between them. Their eyes seemed to pierce each other, staring into the depths of the souls in search of some understanding.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," Ajax sighed, "to want to be braver, but at the same time to be too afraid of doing so."

Ajax turned his gaze back to the freezing water. Its darkness brought back vague memories of the abyss. The simple act of fishing was enough to push Ajax's mind back to the past, when he listened to his father's stories — maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to be as great as the heroes in them.

Ajax had once been a poor, fearful boy, terrified of the world outside, but with a spirit hungry for adventure. He had only a shortsword and a bag of bread — anyone could say that it was at that moment, before his fall into the confines of Teyvat, that Ajax began his transformation into what he's now.

"It's not a story I tell anyone, but I used to be a real coward," he admitted, letting out a sigh. "If one day you get stronger... like I did, would you duel with me?"

"Of course..." they smiled, making an x with their arms. "Not!"

Ajax's expression fell, replaced by that of an abandoned puppy. "But why?"

[Name] laughed at his face, crossing their arms. "Don't you remember when we first met?"

For them, the events that led to their current situation were clear as day. From before their enlistment, to the first day in the division.

They were born into a humble family, without any kind of comfort or privilege. [Name] grew up hearing all the stories about the archons and their extraordinary feats, about how lucky those who gained visions were. However, they never understood why their family admired such deities when all they received was misery.

Their parents, in a desperate act, borrowed a large amount of money, which they couldn't pay back. Disaster would be the appropriate word to describe what happened when the deadline for repaying these debts passed. As they were unable to pay, the two were killed by the debt collectors.

But [Name] always had somewhat of a way with their words, and that was the weapon they used to survive in a world like this. Somehow, they managed to negotiate their lives, in exchange for serving in the Fatui army instead of paying off an endless quantity of mora.

And shortly afterwards, [Name] were taken to the Cryo nation, landing in the middle of a terrible blizzard. If it hadn't been for the pyro vision they carried in their hands, [Name] wouldn't be alive to tell the tale, having become an ice statue.

And it was in an old and spacious office where [Name] took their first step towards their new reality. Quite nervously, their hands firmly held a document with all the information about their new career, leaving crumpled marks on its edges. [Name] had never thought they'd be offered to properly work, especially when the job was with none other than Fatui.

They were facing a short, stoic Fatui agent with a big nose and glasses. He seemed like a friendly fellow, but [Name] knew better than to trust someone who worked for those who had killed their family.

"What's your name, child?" asked the man in front of them, as he typed on a typewriter.

They had never seen anything like this, a machine that wrote for people? Unthinkable, it seemed magical, even. [Name] was so glued to it that, for a second, they forgot to answer.

"It's... [Name], that's all. I don't have a last name..."

The agent stopped his notes, giving [Name] a skeptical look. It was enough to make them nervous, unconsciously taking a small step backwards, lowering their head.

"Answer me..." The man went back to typing. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, sir. I'm from far away..." they sighed, murmuring, "very, very far...."

"Are you sure you'd like to join Fatui? You're still too young, don't you think it's a big responsibility?"

The agent gave them a gentle smile, different from the look he had given them before. It was as if he was truly giving [Name] a choice — but the truth was, if they didn't accept it, they would probably end up in the same shallow grave as their parents.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's not a question of wanting, it's a question of needing," they replied calmly, "someone has to pay these debts, right? Mora doesn't grow on trees."

[Name] wondered if they had said something wrong, since their tone hadn't exactly been friendly, mentally scolding themselves. But to their surprise, instead of getting scolded, [Name] heard a faint but present chuckle coming from the other person.

"You should thank Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your kindness," he said, handing them the piece of paper he had been typing on, "how many people do you think have had an opportunity like this, to have their debts absolved and a job guaranteed?"

"Absolved?"

"Exactly, absolved. All we need from you, child, is your loyalty. I can see the potential, but it all depends solely on you." He pointed at their vision, hanging from their waist with a faint shine. "Surely, you're lucky enough to possess one of these."

For anyone else, receiving a vision is a blessing. However, being in possession of one is like having an eternal debt to the world. To be chosen is to be special, and to be special enough to receive a vision is to be distinct from the rest.

Sometimes it became a curse. One can no longer live like a normal person, because there will always be something that sets them apart from the rest. All those who are given one struggle in some way — Has there ever been a vision holder who truly lived an entire life peacefully, without any conflict whatsoever? At least in Snezhnaya, it seemed not.

"I... I accept..." Their eyes filled with hope, looking at their own name perfectly typed on the document. There was the real identity of the gentleman in front of them, revealed in a fancy signature, the Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pulcinella.

[Name] signed their names in the blank space, sealing their fate within the organization. From that moment on, they would be part of the Fatui, just one more in the crowd — But if that was what it took to ensure their survival, [Name] would do it without hesitation.

The real issue, however, was on the first day of duty, and it had a name: Ajax.

[Name] had just put on their uniform, which was a little big for their size. But then again, there were none designed for a fifteen-year-old to wear, so they'd have to be content with what they had on hand.

At least the jacket they were given was comfortable, warm enough to block out some of the bitter cold that surrounded them each second. [Name] even looked like a proper person in it, which made them let out a little laugh.

However, it wasn't until they were standing in line in a meaningful formation that [Name] noticed a boy of a similar age to them. Red curls that stood out against the white backdrop, with a red scarf that was too long for his neck — perhaps they weren't completely alone in that place.

[Name] waited patiently until the time came for them to start training, watching him with eagle eyes, following Ajax wherever he went. When they finally mustered up the courage, they approached him and extended a hand towards him.

"Hello, I'm [Name],"

"Hey!" The boy grinned and shook their hands firmly. "I'm Ajax!"

"Well... looks like we're the same age, huh? How about we train together?" they suggested, thinking it was the best option.

"Sure!" Ajax nodded, putting the sword he was holding aside. "That would be, like... an invitation to battle, right?"

Technically, it was, so they just followed the his reasoning and confirmed it. "Mhm!"

"Then get ready!" he announced, preparing to throw a full punch.

[Name] didn't react immediately, surprised at the speed of the boy who had already set up his punch. "W-WAIT—"

Thud.

Complete darkness was how the first and last friendly match between the two ended, with Ajax knocking them out with a single punch. That's how [Name] would learn that fighting Ajax was a trap. However, [Name] wouldn't lie that at least it had been the best sleep they'd had in months — and the worst black eye they'd ever gotten, too.

"Teyvat to [Name]?" They awoke from their thoughts to see Ajax's hand moving in front of their face. He then tapped them on the forehead. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. I was just remembering the punch you gave me." They laughed. "Speaking of which, you also punched that guy the other day too... what's with punching people, redhead?"

"I've already apologized!" His face heated up with embarrassment. "And punching is way more practical. You'd be shocked if you knew how strong a punch from me can really be, when I throw one for real!"

"Hm, sure, no doubt about it—"

"I got one!" Ajax exclaimed, trying to pull the line back on the rod with great difficulty. "A little help would be nice, you know!"

[Name] hurried, wrapping their arms around him and pulling back to bring the fish to the surface. But the animal wouldn't cooperate, even with the effort they made take it out of the water.

Ajax took a step back. "That was fast!"

"Fast? We've been waiting for almost an hour—" They slipped on the ice, pulling him and the fish along with them. In the end, Ajax and [Name] both fell flat, like two idiots.

[Name] looked at him, who was holding the fish in his hands while the animal struggled in them. It was a funny sight, which was enough to get a genuine laugh out of them.

"Haha..." they laughed weakly, then raised their tone, "Hahaha!"

Ajax, hearing the sound of their giggles, bursted into laughter. He laughed so hard that small tears formed in his eyes, "Hahaha... What are we laughing at?"

[Name] pointed at him, "At you, you fool!"

"Oh, really?!" Ajax stood up, bringing the fish in his hands near them. "Let's see who gets the last laugh!"

[Name] got up and ran across the ice, running away from him. They slipped and balanced, with an infectious smile on their faces accompanied by the sweet sound of their laughter, while Ajax chased after them with the animal.

It was moments like this that reminded them that they weren't adults, but two true children at heart.

At least once a week, Ajax and [Name] were sent on missions. They weren't often in charge of the more complicated ones, as they were still too young. However, for the first time, the two of them were allowed to take part in a more risky operation.

The two were supposed to stay with the older ones, but [Name] found themselves alone, having gotten separated from the rest by accident. In the middle of such a large forest, they could only hope that a blizzard wouldn't strike right away.

[Name] analyzed their surroundings, trying to retrace the steps that led them to nowhere and return to where the division had planned to reunite. However, they seemed to go round in circles, never reaching their destination.

That's when they noticed a coat lying in the snow. It was brown, very different from the Fatui soldiers' uniform, with a shabby finishing and a gross smell of blood.

Pow.

That's what they heard, a loud, familiar sound that sent shivers down their spines. Looking up, they saw a bullet hole in the tree, well above their heads — by perhaps two centimeters, they would no longer be alive.

"...!" [Name] instinctively looked for the source of the sound, quickly finding it.

Their desperate eyes met another's, which held no pity. Yet another soldier, wounded, carrying a gun and a tremendous amount of hatred — not everyone liked the Fatui, and not everyone had sympathy just because they were a child.

Frightened, [Name] ran desperately, followed by fierce gunfire that almost hit them. [Name] hid behind a tree and drew out their bow, but couldn't hold it properly no matter how much they tried, since it always slipped from their hands.

The enemy was indeed wounded, but armed and apparently experienced. The look in his face had been enough to send shivers down their spine, because when compared to them, who couldn't even use their vision properly, it was like facing a real monster.

"It'll be all right..." they whispered to themselves. "I just need to—"

[Name] heard more gunshots, too close to where they were. Something told them to run, but also to stay, accept the invitation and have a proper fight. If it was to survive, then [Name] would fight, they needed to.

[Name] couldn't hide forever, it wouldn't be right.

"Come on, you bastard!" [name] shouted, their voice echoing through the woods, as they aimed their bows in the direction of the enemy.

They used their vision and set the arrow ablaze, burning their own fingertips in the process. They didn't know how to control the force with which the arrow burned, but they knew it would hurt anyone who was struck.

[Name] clumsily launched the first arrow, dodging a shower of bullets headed their way. They hoped it was enough, that they had been able to send it flying at his face. But instead, the projectile pierced through his shoulder.

"Damn!" the soldier shouted, trying to reload his weapon while wincing in pain, but his ammunition had run out.

He came up and pistol—whipped them, causing [Name] to cry out in pain for a few seconds. The impact was so intense that they dropped their weapon and fell into the snow.

[Name] then felt the real despair of being weak. They could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and their eyes watering from the pain of the blows they received to the head, while blood trickled down their faces.

They grabbed his foot, applying pyro to their hands to make his boot burn along with it. When he fell, it was then that they saw their chance to stay alive handed to them on a platter.

They reached for the bow that lay on the ground next to them, firmly holding it anyway. Nothing mattered, only survival and that was all — they only needed to survive, to live long enough to prove that they were capable.

It didn't take much for one person to kill another, just despair. That feeling of helplessness and genuine dread, which would move mountains if necessary, was all it took to pull the trigger.

They violently hit the enemy in the face with their own bow, as if it were a bat. It was only when the return attacks stopped that they realized what they had done. The body below had an expression of terror, eyes wide as blood dripped onto the white snow, staining its purity with a crimson shade.

"I—I didn't... I did this...?" They stared at their bloodied hands, feeling their heart beating wildly against their chest. That's when, suddenly, an incessant urge to cough overtook them, but only blood came from their mouth.

[Name] looked down and realized that they had been shot in the chest. The bullet had gone through what seemed to be their lung, they didn't know, the adrenaline was hiding the pain for as long as it took. However, the spot hit was clearly a lethal wound.

They took two clumsy steps backwards, shaking their heads in denial. [Name] was too afraid to do anything like that, taking a life itself was too cruel an act for them, but it was done.

However, they didn't want to die as murderers, not really. So, with determination, [Name] decided they wouldn't die there.

They turned around and ran that time like there was no tomorrow, using every drop of adrenaline they still had in their bodies. [Name] couldn't see the sun shining, only the same gray clouds that covered the sky, which seemed to mock the fact that there was no light at the end.

Their only way out was to get to the camp, where there should be healers waiting for the wounded. However, it was difficult for [Name] to distinguish the landscape around them, especially in such a nervous state.

[Name] tripped over their own foot, losing their balance and rolling painfully down the mountain. They watched life pass before their eyes, each moment painful with the intention of just surviving, not living. Then they closed their eyes tightly, already bracing themselves for a more abrupt impact and accepting certain death.

They hit a tree, before rolling one last time to the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, or not, it was low enough for them not to die on impact — they did wish it had been stronger, ending it all quickly.

[Name] felt like a bird, floating in the sky with their eyes closed. They thought they had died because of the serenity felt for a few seconds, only to be crushed by the cruel reality. Their fall had been gently cushioned by the snow, but even with all this effort, they couldn't see the camp — which meant it had all been in vain.

Finally, the pain returned to their body as if it had never left. Breathing was difficult, with each breath being painful in the extreme, as if their organs were punishing them for still being alive.

"N—No," they sobbed through words, hot tears contrasting with the coldness that cruelly coursed through their veins. "I—I hate it... I wanted to die in peace, not like this... Not like this..."

Their trembling hands squeezed the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. [Name] didn't know how much time they had left, they didn't want to know either, all left to do was pray to Tsaritsa and beg for a little mercy, for a quick death if possible.

[Name] still hadn't paid their debt to Her Majesty, for the life they had been offered. For the bread to eat every day, for the tent they had over their heads, for letting them breathe, for letting them remain in existence, they had to do their utmost to repay all the favors with whatever they could.

For the gratuitously heavy insults that they had to swallow in silence because they were weak; for the mountains and snowstorms that brought them down along the way; for the disgraceful defective vision of theirs — or rather, they were the defective ones.

"P—Please..." [Name] begged the nothing, while holding their vision close to their chest, "if miracles really do exist…”

How many things had [Name] thrown away, when what they wanted most was to prove to everyone that, even if they were weak, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone? [Name] didn't know, only the bitterness of a wasted time remained in their hearts.

They let their tears fall over the flaming orb, whose glow no longer seemed the same. With one last kiss to the gem, a silent thank you, they began to weep for a life they were about to lose.

There would be no one to mourn their death, to lament the defeat of someone who had never once won. They probably wouldn't even have a funeral, but would just be buried somewhere like an animal. How terrible would it be to be completely forgotten, with no soul to remember their existence?

And Ajax, their only friend... finally acknowledged this fact. Would the boy be desolate? Grieve? Or would he carry on as he always seemed to do?

They regretted not having told him things in life that only they could say. They could only hope for the best, that he wouldn't take the news that badly — but at the same time, there was a small, selfish desire for him to feel their death. Not because [Name] wanted him to suffer, but because that way they would know that they mattered to someone.

[Name] recalled the memories they had made with him, like when they first met, when they went ice fishing a few days ago. The image of how they ran and laughed with him that night, as if they weren't the next ones to die, was fresh.

At last, their body felt light, receiving a moment of tranquillity reserved for the end of endings, when [Name] felt nothing but the slow rhythm of their heartbeats, fighting for a lost cause, as if they didn't have two holes in their chests.

"I was truly... useless until the end, wasn't I...?" [Name] murmured what they knew would be their last words, a vent to themselves and to the world. With the last beat of their hearts and the cessation of their breathing, snowflakes touched the now freezing skin. "I hope I have served you well... Your Majesty..."

They died in silence, without disturbing anyone.

Meanwhile, with the mission over, Ajax found himself extremely bored. Contemplating the pure white snow stained with blood as he returned to camp had already become a habit of his.

He could not care less that his face had a few small scratches on it. Though, he had to admit, that any kind of mission made him tired. But before he could rest, he found a place to rest. So Ajax began to look for them throughout the camp, without any success in his search.

'They must be receiving medical care...' He thought, as he made his way towards the tent where the doctors were staying.

It was a small space that was often crowded with the number of people wounded during missions. Finding any specific person was difficult, even more so when he was being pestered to be treated right away because he was younger.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" one of the doctors asked, placing a hand on his bruised face.

"No, I'm fine!" Ajax smiled. "I'm just looking for..."

For some reason, his eyes fixed on a particular corner of the tent. Away from the rest, it was where they put the bodies of those who had perished in combat; but Ajax had never taken much notice of it, so why now?

He approached slowly, in silence. Ajax felt an uncharacteristic nervousness come over him, running through his veins. The chills he felt seemed to swallow him up from the inside out, it had been a long time since Ajax had felt like this, as if something was screaming "don't go there, stay here" and attempting to keep him from discovering the truth, as he approached a particular cloth.

He stopped in front of the covered figure, noticing something sticking out of the cloth. An object, a... vision. But the only ones in the entire division who possessed one were him and... [Name].

Terror was too little to describe what overtook Ajax, who hesitated to lift the cloth covering the individual's face. He wished he wouldn't hear his head and believe that they weren't the dead man in front of him.

With trembling hands, which he tried to stop, Ajax lifted the fabric slightly. And that's when the ground really seemed to crumble beneath him — they were dead, [Name] was truly dead.

Their skin was so pale and cold that it scared him a bit. But what particularly caught Ajax's eye was the sheer amount of blood they had lost, as their face and hair were completely stained a deep crimson red; and no one had bothered to close their eyes, devoid of life and its particular glow. Now, they were just a pit of darkness that matched his own.

"..." Ajax just stared, unable to say anything. Everything was trapped inside, without him being able to express it.

Ajax tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that they weren't really friends, just work colleagues. But the sadness in his heart betrayed the stoicism he tried so hard to maintain.

Ajax closed their eyes gently and kissed [Name]'s forehead gently before covering their face with the cloth again. It was an action that any mother would take on seeing her child dead, but they didn't have one to weep over their death — and if there wasn't one, then Ajax would play his part in showing respect for them.

Ajax may even have changed when he fell into the abyss, becoming a maniac for fighting and confusion. But at the end of the day, he was human just like everyone else.

Two days later, the tent they shared was cold, without the heat of the lamp to warm Ajax up, as it had already gone out with the icy wind coming through the gap in the entrance.

It was [Name] who kept them warm in the middle of the night, using their vision to keep the fire burning. And that was just a bitter reminder that they were no longer there.

The others had taken away everything that was theirs, accommodating what would be the belongings of a new tentmate, who would be arriving in a few days. It was as if they had ceased to exist altogether.

Ajax wouldn't mind being hit in the face with a pillow if they were the ones to hit him, with that smile, with that irritating tone of voice of theirs that Ajax recognized from afar. He wouldn't mind being called "redhead" again, if it was them calling him that.

"Ajax?" The voice that called him from outside was familiar to Ajax. It was the Fifth.

Ajax promptly got to his feet, walking outside the tent and greeting him politely, a treatment he reserved only for The Rooster. "I'm here, sir."

"I heard that one of your companions fell in battle... a shame," the Harbinger said, as he searched for something in his pocket. "Well, here it is..."

The man handed him a gray envelope, a letter. In the corner was written in almost illegible handwriting the names of the sender and recipient, respectively: [Name] and Ajax.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands.

"You were both very similar ages, you and..." the Rooster paused, having forgotten their name.

"[Name]." It was the first time Ajax had said their names, having called them "comrade" all the time since they'd met. Honestly, it hurt a little, how difficult it was to utter a simple phoneme.

A few minutes later, Ajax said goodbye to the Harbinger and entered the darkness of the tent again. He left out a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was written inside that envelope.

Ajax could no longer remember what The Rooster had talked about, only that the exchange of words had been short, like all the others before. He didn't even have the mind to think about it now, he could apologize later if he forgot some important information.

But right now, the only thing that mattered to Ajax was [Name]'s letter. He opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to tear it, but in the end he did. Ajax strained his eyes to read what was written there, in a handwriting as bad as theirs.

Dear Ajax,

Should I start a letter with "dear"? I don't know, honestly, I have never written one. Well, if this letter found you, then that means I must be dead by now. I'm sure you're glad I did, as you'll now have the whole tent to yourself.

I've written this because I know that, in life, I might not be able to say what I think. I believe we're already friends, don't you too? That's how I feel about you, I think you're my only friend, and I've been very happy about that. Thank you, thank you very much, for the joyful and humorous moments you've provided me with in this little end of the world that is Snezhnaya.

I asked you the other day if you felt homesick; you may deny it, but I can understand how you feel, away from everyone you love in a place like this. Know that whatever may happen, I believe that the same people you miss feel the same way you do.

Don't listen to that little voice in your head that whispers "you're nothing but trouble", it's stupid. When I look at you, I don't see a troubled boy, but a boy with the heart of another. That day we were late for training, you could just as well have walked away and let me be punished for being late, but you didn't. We cleaned all the weapons by ourselves. We polished all the weapons alone, for hours, and you never complained. Why was that?

I don't know, but I'd like it to stay that way, so keep going! I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, because you're the best warrior I've ever had the honor of meeting.

I end this letter with my admiration and gratitude to you; and never forget: we have our own time!

With much care,

[Name].

A single tear fell onto the paper, right below their name, accompanied by others that would soon form a hot waterfall in his eyes. Ajax didn't know how to respond to this, covering his face with the paper, as if he was embarrassed to end up being seen like this

Perhaps it was for the better, a reminder that life really wasn't fair, and that Ajax had strayed from the path he was on. He didn't want to care so much, but at the same time he did.

Ajax wanted someone to comfort him, to tell and reassure him that it was all right, that this sort of thing did happen, but at the same time, it didn't. It was hard, very hard, to face it. It was difficult, very difficult, to face the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide behind brute strength.

Anyone who saw him like that would doubt that he was the same person who ravaged the battlefield with his bloodlust, the boy who seemed like an uncontrollable monster with an indomitable spirit, causing trouble wherever he went.

But for one last time, in the darkness of that tent, he allowed himself to be... Vulnerable.

[noblehouseofgay]

Nowhere to go

Jegulus and Black Brothers microfic

Reg survives the cave

Longer than usual, I got carried away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He was bleeding out, he was sure of it. His blurry vision alone told him that he only had so long left.

He almost couldn't decide if he'd rather come here or just bleed out. But he did have some self preservation left, so here he stood at the Potter's door.

As far as they knew, he was an evil death eater. He knew there was a chance he'd be turned away or even killed on the spot. After years of turning down their invitations, what right did he even have to be here?

Unfortunately he couldn't change his mind. He all but collapsed against the door. This was it wasn't it? The Potters would find a corpse on their doorstep and not even know why. Well, at least he'd get to traumatize his brother one last time.

He felt the door open against his leg and he heard someone yell. He had no idea who it was or what was being said. He was blacking out fast. Ha, blacking out. Black. Oh I'm dying. His deluded thoughts ceased as he left consciousness.

~~~

Regulus shot up, breathing quickly. Where the hell was he? He remembered the cave. He remembered ordering kreacher to leave. He remembered.....oh merlin, he remembered being dragged down. Pulled beneath the water. He remembered being apparated. He didn't know how but he'd ended up on a street corner. And he remembered choosing to find the Potters. Oh fuck. He was at the Potters.

He looked around, quickly finding his brother asleep on the chair nearby. Sirius. Without thinking, Regulus began to reach out to him. He gently touched his brother's hand. He was real. He was here.

Sirius stirred and Regulus pulled his hand away. They made eye contact for the first time in years. "Reggie..." Regulus bit his lip. What was he supposed to say right now? How do you even explain this situation?

Apparently it didn't matter, because Sirius moved quickly to hug Regulus. Soon enough they were sobbing into each other. The embrace felt like home, something Regulus hadn't felt since he was 13.

"What happened to you? Did our parents do that-" Sirius pulled back, looking horrified. "I swear, Reggie you- you looked dead!"

"I know how to kill him." Sirius froze. "I know how to kill the dark lord. I already have one piece, I- I don't know how many there are- but he can be killed, Sirius."

Sirius looked beyond lost. "Reggie, slow down." He sighed. "I'm going to grab James and his parents, then you're going to tell us everything."

So he did. Regulus filled them in on what he could, all while avoiding James' eyes as much as possible. Even now, those eyes held so much power over Regulus.

After he'd told the story, Effie and Monty left to discuss, leaving the three boys alone.

The silence was thick. "I'm glad you're ok." Of course James would say that, he had a heart too big for his body. Regulus nodded in response, his feelings too overwhelming to speak.

"You're staying here, by the way, I hope that's obvious. I'm not letting you get away from me again, Reggie. You're not going back to that house." Regulus sighed and looked at his brother. He assumed that would be the case. "Fine, but I'll need to get kreacher to bring me things from there. I've done a lot of research on the horcruxes, it's all in my journals. Plus I had him take the locket since-..." He almost didn't want to say it again. "Since I didn't think I'd make it out. The plan was he'd take the locket and my studies to you. But I think he brought me here as well, I'm not sure."

"Well at least that bloody elf has done one good thing." "Watch it. He's helped me a lot, Sirius. He's loyal to be more so than the house of Black." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I still don't like him." He stood up. "I'll go get your guest room set up, it's next to mine."

Well now this was just awkward. He was left with James, you know, the boy he'd spent years in love with. The boy he'd danced around and teased for years. The boy he never got the chance to be with. The boy he never thought would even look at him.

The Marauders' final year had changed a lot though. Regulus and James became closer than ever. That is, until Regulus had to distance himself for everyone's sake. They'd never even kissed. Never did more than give each other looks in the halls, really.

Regulus spoke quietly, not looking at the boy. "I had nowhere else to go, I-" he took a breath, "I really wouldn't have put all this on you if I'd had a choice." James carefully moved to sit next to Regulus, his hand lightly resting on his. "I'm glad you did, Reg. We didn't- we had no idea if you were even still alive. Neither of us had ever seen you on the battlefield, there were no reports of you." James fingers held Regulus hand gently. "This was your plan from the start?" Regulus nodded. "I understand why you didn't tell us...but I wish you could've. I wish we could've helped you."

Regulus swallowed, staring into those warm hazel eyes. "I didn't want to risk your lives. I did it to keep you as safe as I could. If you hated me...then you wouldn't try to save me." Regulus laughed a little sadly. "Yet here we are now, it ended up being your problem in the end anyway." "Hey, don't do that. We want to help, Reg. You've done so much. We can end the war now! Because of you..." James brushed some black strands of hair out of Regulus' face. "You're so brave, you know that?" The taller boy stood up and left a kiss on Regulus' head, leaving the smaller boy blushing like crazy. He smiled at Regulus and nodded for him to follow. "I'll take you to your room, you should rest."

Regulus stood and followed, in somewhat of a daze from that interaction. They went upstairs and found Sirius setting up the room, adding a few little details. Sirius smiled at his brother, something Regulus never thought he'd do again.

The two other boys nodded to Regulus and headed out, Sirius giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm right next door, Reggie. James is across from me, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall." James peaked back in from the hall. "And my parents are just down from me if you need them. Or us. Whatever you need, alright?" Regulus nodded with a small smile. "Get some rest, Reggie."

Regulus immediately laid down, feeling himself already being pulled into sleep. He was exhausted. Today had been forty hours long, he swore it. He'd almost died and reunited with his brother and James all in a few hours. There was a lot to deal with starting tomorrow, but for now he'd rest well, knowing his had those two back in his life.

[soaps-mohawk]

Phill needs to be strapped to a chair. They need to duct tape a glass jar to him with a couple of rats inside. Then blow torch the jar so the rats don’t have any other option than to chew there way out threw him.

The way you write him makes me hate him so much. That’s just because you’re a good writer and you can manipulate (is that even right?) my emotions to feel that way. Your Phil is so disgusting and vile. I hate him so much. I am so glad that it’s not this reality for ‘mega. I could never imagine reading a story like that.

‘Mega never having the freedoms that she has with the 141. You know what I mean by freedoms right? ‘Mega would never get to choose under Phil’s rule. He would shut that crap down as soon as possible and I can’t bear to think what he would do. He would be the type of person to have that fakeness to him. Pretending to smile while deep down he’s threatening you.

It’s more scary when someone does that. Having that undertone to something that they said in a what you assume is a friendly matter. Ugh no thanks. My autism radar would be off the charts.

I don’t know if I read this correctly in the main fic but I’m assuming they think graves is dead?? Like in the reboot series when soap blew up the tank. I’m going to just go with that because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t explicitly said he was dead. I know Shepard is still alive in your fic. Are you going to have John kill him like in MW3?? That would be badass. Finally getting his revenge for hurting ‘mega (instead of getting revenge for everything and soaps death. Rip soap).

This is getting really long.

Anyways how are you? I hope everything is going alright. Just posted my second short story on tumblr ☺️

He deserves that kind of torture in this fic honestly. He is not a good person anyway but he's extra just...icky in this one. I can't not see him that way so...very sorry to the Graves lovers out there. I just can't see him as anything but a yeehaw Texas republican man.

I don't think Graves would be a bad alpha per se, but it would feel a lot like a kind of trad wife situation (which it is). 'Mega is there to keep the image of a perfect house and life and family and have kids and take care of them and the house and the chores. Zero agency, zero choice in anything. Not necessarily abusive, but constantly reminding others of where they stand beneath him in that silent, threatening way.

As far as Graves in the fic....

It's been a lifetime since I've used this gif I've missed it 😂

I'm doing alright, all things considered. Busy busy busy, but busy is good. Makes time go by faster.

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 4

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,035

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

A/N: There is a bit of verbal sexual harassment in this chapter! So please tread lightly if that's something you're sensitive to!

~~~~~~~~

"S-Solanaaaaaa! H-Heeyyyyy," Stan said nervously, avoiding eye contact with her completely. He was looking at every single spot but her eyes or her boobs, er, her body. Fuck.

"Wow. You really are a shy old guy," she giggled, covering her mouth a little. "This is why I didn't want to meet you so soon. I knew that you would start treating me differently immediately."

"N-No! I'm not!" Stan said quickly, looking into her eyes instantly when he spoke. "I just wasn't...expectin to...see ya so soon."

"Ah, so you weren't being a creepy stalker and this is just pure happenstance?" She joked, folding her arms across her chest which made the cleavage in the keyhole of her shirt push up.

Stan's eyes trailed down to her chest then swiftly back up at her face. "Yeah, exactly! Nothin crazy like that. My niece wanted to come here for uh...reasons that aren't important right now."

While Stan was talking, Solana was twirling her hair around her right index finger, which, again, pushed her boobs up into the keyhole even further. She was enthralled by how stacked Stan was in person. He looked like he worked out more than just a couple times a month. His stature was thick but tall of course. Couldn't have been shorter than 6'2. For an older man, that was certainly impressive.

A laugh suddenly came from Stan. "Who's the one eye fuckin who now?" he laughed once more.

Solana shot him a smirk before licking her lips subtly. "Look, I never said I was above doing it," she responded with a light shrug of her shoulders. "You certainly are sexy though. Pictures don't and never will do you justice. And the gold chain? Ooh," she shuddered before giggling.

Stan's entire face was red now. He didn't think she'd be so straightforward in person but she definitely did match his energy at least. He clenched his cane to keep himself tethered to what little bit of sanity he even had left from years of bullshit. She was so very beautiful so-

"Why are ya...so..."

"So...what?"

"Avoidant about bein seen?" he asked curiously.

"I told you. People start to treat me differently when they see me," she said, shrugging slightly.

"Why?" He was so confused about this entire concept. "Isn't it a good thing for a dame like you to get all the attention?"

"No. It's...different. Very different," she replied, a sad tinge to her tone.

Just as Stan was about to ask her another question, Mabel and Maze came shuffling over to him to show him a basket of treasures they found in the store so far.

"Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel squealed happily as she practically vibrated out of her skin. "Look, look!" she said, holding the shopping basket up to him.

"Those little trinkets are 50% off to the cutest kid in the store," Solana said matter of factly to Mabel with a genuine smile.

Mabel stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to look at Solana. "Shut...UP!!!!" She screamed excitedly, jumping now. "That's definitely me!!"

"We're literally twins," Maze chimed in, rolling his eyes.

"Fraternal!" Mabel reminded with a cheeky grin, twisting her index finger into her cheek.

"Well 50% off to everyone who's a twin!" Solana laughed.

"Hey, I'm a twin. Does that mean I get the discount too?" Stan chuckled.

"Hmm...I'm gonna need proof of that statement," she said as she squinted at Stan, not truly believing him.

"Hold on!" Mabel said as she pulled out her phone and started looking through her massive collection of pictures. Selfies specifically. She scrolled furiously until she found a selfie with her, Maze, Ford, and Stan. She showed Solana the picture and Solana bent down slightly to look at the screen.

"Oooh, okay. He wasn't lying. Two identically handsome men. Interesting," Solana mused with a purse of her lips as she peeked at Stan out the corner of her eye briefly. "Discounts across the board then!" She nodded and turned to the twins to get a good look at them.

"You two are actually adorable. Like actually," Solana complimented.

"Thank yooouuuuu!" Mabel said gratefully. Meanwhile, Maze was hiding behind his hair, blushing furiously. Mabel nudged him. "Say thank you," she grumbled to him quietly.

"T-Thank you," he murmured shyly as he shoved his hands into his pockets so he couldn't fidget anymore.

"Uh, kids. Are you done shoppin or do ya need more?" Stan asked them. He really just wanted to be alone with Solana for a moment longer.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Mabel droned as she leaned her head back to think.

"You seem like the type of girl to enjoy a good mini cat figurine," Solana surmised. "Am I right?"

Mabel looked up at Solana with big eyes. "Yes..." She said in a serious tone that showed just how excited she was.

"Aisle 21." Solana gave her a sweet smile as Mabel grabbed Maze and drug him over to the exact aisle that was mentioned.

Stan was impressed with how well she handled the kids. She was so motherly and kind. His heart started racing at the thought of her genuinely being interested in him. Her motherly tendencies did something for him. Did he have mommy issues? Fuck.

"You think a lot, don't you?" Solana asked, breaking Stan's train of thought. "Allow me to remedy that," she cooed as she walked closer to him. "May I?" She motioned with her hands that she was asking to touch him.

He couldn't do anything but freeze in place once she moved closer. "Y-Yeah," he stammered, nodding quickly.

Solana smiled at him then stretched up onto her tippy toes to place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a bit of the lip gloss she had on. "Better?" she asked.

Stan had a love stricken expression written plain as day across his face when he processed the kiss. "Yeah. Better," he said in a dreamy voice.

"You're so cute," Solana chuckled. "Haven't you been married before?"

"Nah, I...I got dangerously close but it didn't pan out. It's fine though," Stan said, brushing it off. He didn't want to talk to his new flame about his old flames. Felt weird.

"Something tells me it isn't fine but I'll let it be. For now." She turned to the mess on the ground behind them and began to pick the stuff up. She crouched down and put everything back on the lower shelves from where they fell, humming as she did so.

Stan looked around, not knowing what to do or say to her at this point. He was going to speak but a voice boomed through the store. He groaned in frustration at being interrupted for the millionth time with her.

"Solana!" the voice yelled. "Where are you?"

She sighed and murmured under her breath before standing back up and flattening out her clothes. "Yes, Chip?" she called out, walking past Stan to the end of the aisle where she knew he was going to be.

A lanky, lightly tanned man with perfectly coiffed hair and a pair of black sunglasses walked up to Solana. Even though he had the sunglasses on, you can still tell he was looking at her in a way that would make anyone, woman or not, uncomfortable as hell.

"You look good today," he said with a shit eating grin. "Loving the new and improved uniform on you. What you did with it is so...mmm! You know?" he said to her quietly.

"Chip, I don't have time for you right now. I have a store to run. Your store. You know. The one you opened?" She said as she rolled her eyes at him. "Why are you even here today? You come in on Sundays and Wednesdays. It's literally Saturday."

"I gotta be honest. I wanted to see you," he said, holding his hands up in defense, still smiling that stupid smile.

"Well good for you because I definitely don't want to see you," She said as she turned to walk away from him before he grabbed her arm. Almost immediately, Stan was standing between the two of them, towering over Chip and facing him.

"The lady said she doesn't wanna be bothered. Ya better leave 'er alone or I'll have to intervene," Stan said, standing directly in front of Solana to protect her from even being looked at by that disgusting...

"And who are you?" Chip asked, looking up at Stan, never once dropping that smile.

"He's my boyfriend and he doesn't take lightly to someone touching me," Solana said quickly.

Stan faltered slightly, not expecting her to say that so freely. He immediately regained his composure and looked at Chip sternly, his eyebrows flat, mouth set in a hard line. He wasn't about to show weakness to this...this dickhead.

"Boyfriend? You never mentioned that," Chip said, adjusting his glasses. "Kinda old."

"She doesn't have to," Stan said curtly, cutting him off and leaving no room for ifs, ands, or buts about it. "Leave."

Chip tried to peek around Stan's large shoulders to see Solana but Stan blocked every advance he tried to make.

"I said, leave," he said in a much more firm tone as he leaned down closer to Chip's face.

Chip threw his hands up in defeat. "This is my store after all. I'll definitely be back. Don't you worry about it." He kept that same smile on his face as he turned and left the store. He hopped into his sports car, started it up, and drove away at a blinding speed.

Solana was breathing heavily behind Stan, starting to have a bit of an anxiety attack. Stan swiveled around on his heels to meet her face to face.

"You okay?" he asked in a concerned voice. He didn't know how to deal with his own anxiety let alone someone else's.

"Yeah, I..." She said as she looked down at her clothes in disgust. It was very obvious that Chip had a hand in how she dressed at this job. It was awful for her.

"Are the kids ready to check out?" She chirped, trying to change the subject.

"Solana-" Stan started.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine," she said firmly. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fucking fine!" she snapped before adjusting her clothes and walking off.

Stan stood there in disbelief. He didn't think negatively about her. In fact, he felt an insatiable urge to protect her. Protect her from this creep, protect her from all men, from everything. Of course he ogled her when he first saw her but he reigned it in the moment he felt that twinge of loyalty to Solana before he knew it was her. He didn't want to be like Chip. He wanted to treat her nicely and treat her the way a beautiful woman like her deserved to be treated.

After gathering himself and flattening his suit coat, Stan walked out of the aisle to go find the kids only to find Solana checking them out at an impressive speed. He walked over to them slowly in silence, not wanting to disturb the flow.

"Grunkle Stan, Miss Solana is giving us so many discounts! I got sooooo many mini cat figurines. She was right. I do love a good mini cat figurine," Mabel rambled excitedly.

Solana was avoiding eye contact with everyone, especially Stan. She couldn't stand to see what he thought of her after that.

"So we're having a grand opening sale for 20% off of most things and then I'm giving you my employee discount of 30% which means you're getting everything half off," Solana explained as she started bagging everything up since she was done scanning. "So your total is $615.03."

Mabel and Maze froze in their places at the mention of that number. They slowly turned to look at Stan who looked completely disinterested in whatever was being said. He was focused on Solana and how avoidant she was being. Maybe she was doing it in front of the kids for their sake but he knew it wasn't that.

Stan pulled his wallet out and opened it to grab a stack of money. He whipped out a couple of hundreds plus a few more smaller bills to cover the price. He handed it all to Solana who took it without hesitation and put it into the register.

Solana handed the bags to the kids and smiled at them. "I hope you have an amazing time creating whatever it is you're creating. I hope to see it floating around the town one day if possible."

Mabel cheesed hard at Solana's words. "Thank yooouuuu!" she said loudly as she grabbed two bags and left the other three for Maze and Stan to take. Maze, being the good brother and nephew he was, took two of the heaviest bags to spare Stan from hurting himself. Or so he thought that's what he was doing.

"Kids, I'll meet you at the car," Stan said calmly, looking directly at Solana who was still avoiding his eye line.

"O...kay?" Maze said as he looked between the both of them then walked off with Mabel towards the entrance of the store. "What the heck was that about?" he murmured to her quietly, making sure neither Stan or Solana heard him.

Stan placed his hands flat on the register table they were at, his eyes never leaving Solana. She fidgeted so incessantly that it made him feel weird for even looking at her.

"I'm sorry," Stan said simply.

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong," she responded, tucking hair behind her ear as she spoke, still not looking at him.

"The way you're actin got me feelin like I did. I'm sorry for interferin."

Solana sighed and looked at Stan finally. "It's not that. I feel..." She groaned slightly. "Disgusting. This is exactly why I didn't want to meet you in person. Yet. I always have interactions like this with men specifically."

"Why?" Stan asked curiously.

"I don't know. I genuinely don't know. It's..." She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "At least you did it in your head and not outright."

Stan's face heated up. He wished he never did that in the first place and she brought it back up again. "I'm sorry about that too. But you know what's funny?"

"What?"

"I stopped cuz I felt this...connection to ya last night and I felt like I was...bein disloyal in this...'talking stage'? Or whatever my niece called it," he admitted, grumbling at the end.

Solana's heart melted at Stan's admission. She smiled at him and reached over to place her hand on top of his. She squeezed it thoughtfully. "Yeah?" She asked with a crooked smile.

His eyes briefly dropped down to their hands touching. "Yeah," he confirmed, leaning forward towards her a bit.

"I mean I should have expected this much from my boyfriend," she teased while giggling.

Stan laughed at her bringing her own words back up. "That...That got me when you said it. I thought I was goin insane when I heard it."

"No, not at all. I wouldn't mind it becoming reality one day," she paused. "Soon." Her eyes dropped to his lips for but a moment but he caught the gesture almost immediately.

"May I?" he asked, echoing her from before things went haywire. His own eyes were wandering over the features of her face. He couldn't help it. Her beauty rivaled even the mermaids he saw on his voyage with Ford.

"Such a gentleman for asking," she cooed. "Of course," she allowed.

He leaned down to Solana until their lips finally met. Their eyes closed immediately to truly lose themselves in the kiss. She squeezed his hand tightly, showing that she was restraining herself from doing much more than a simple kiss. She couldn't help herself and deepened the kiss a little more before Stan politely pulled away from her lips slightly.

"I'd be willin to continue this somewhere private if I wasn't babysittin right now," he whispered against her lips before kissing her a few more times.

Solana hummed into the subsequent kisses, her eyelashes fluttering at the same time. "Got any free time tonight?" She asked boldly, trying to catch her lips between every word she spoke.

"I might. I'll text ya and let ya know. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Sounds good," she said in a hurried tone.

Stan gave her a few more kisses before pulling away completely and fixing his clothes.

Mabel and Maze were standing outside Stan's car with their jaws dropped to the ground. Mabel dropped her bags. They slowly looked at each other in complete shock. They saw the entire encounter.

"Did Grunkle Stan just..." Mabel asked.

"He did..." Maze responded.

"Here he comes, here he comes! Act natural!" Mabel said quickly and quietly. She scrambled to pick up the bags.

When the doors opened, Stan walked through them and looked at the twins in confusion.

"The car was open," he said to them slowly, not completely sure why they were still standing and waiting.

"Oh! hahahaha!" Mabel laughed awkwardly as she scrambled into the car. She didn't really give much more of an answer than that, leaving Maze to pick up the pieces instead. Maze looked at Mabel with an expression that disapproved of her immediate betrayal.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." Maze said before he suddenly retreated and got into the backseat with Mabel.

"I thought you wanted to sit in the front, kid?" Stan said as he approached the driver's side and opened the door to get in.

"Naaahhhhh. I decided I wanna sit with Mabel," Maze said quickly with a nod.

"Gotcha," Stan said as he got in and closed the door. He pulled out his keys then started the car up.

"Your old grunkle got a date tonight. So I want you two to take care of each other and Sixer while I'm gone for the night," Stan said as he put the car in reverse and turned around to back out of the spot.

The twins sat in their seats, frozen. A date? They thought to themselves.

[thefirstflowers]

I don't hate a fictional character. I don't care because he doesn't exist. Just disappointed that Tim is downplaying racism. I just hate that every time I see Tommy I'm reminded of it.

Yeah, I get what you mean about not caring. And there's an added layer of 'he'll be gone soon' which will probably make all this worrying seem unnecessary in like a couple years' time.

I don't know if Tim is really downplaying racism though. Honestly, right now, (and I might turn out to be completely wrong) it seems like Tommy might not actually be racist/sexist, but was just going along with Gerrard. Which, mind you, doesn't really change anything in my books. His actions and the actions of a confirmed bigot amounted to the same thing - poc/queer employees being excluded and made to feel less than.

Although going by my own logic it doesn't really matter that Tommy might not actually be racist, when his actions were. And the fact that Tim had Chim and Hen hanging out with him before he transfered definitely feels like he was downplaying his fucked up behaviour. That's probably what you meant; don't mind me, my brain just takes a little time to get there sometimes (it's the adhd).

And to add to that last thing you said - it also just makes me so incredibly sad that, even though Tommy will be gone soon, this will forever be remembered as Buck's first queer relationship. Not that I don't get the intention behind the decision to make his first boyfriend an asshole; Buck didn't only need to have his bi realization, he also needs to realize that all the romantic relationships he's had so far have been with people who cared less and gave less to the relationship than him (which now includes Tommy).

But I'll never stop wishing that Tim went with someone else. Literally anyone else..

[identitty-dickruption]

When people say that they don’t want to be around addicts, they don’t mean recovered /ex- addicts - they mean active addicts or “dry drunks” who haven’t changed their behavior and are still selfish and manipulative and playing the victim. Active addicts hurt everyone around them. If you’re a recovered alcoholic people aren’t talking about you.

"still selfish and manipulative and playing the victim".... you are aware that addicts, even addicts who are not in recovery, are complex human beings with a broad range of characteristics and behaviours, yeah? the diagnostic criteria for being an addict is not "selfish and manipulative cunt"

I never said that anyone has to be friends with an addict, and it is never morally wrong to cut off someone who is being shitty to you. people can have their boundaries and that's fine. but when you say that you don't want to be around addicts, you are making a fuckton of assumptions about what an addict is. and you know what? I don't want to be friends with someone like that. I don't want to be excluded from the category of "addict" so that people like you can still feel okay about demonising addiction. they're talking about me because I am an addict and always will be, and I stand in solidarity with my fellow addicts. peace and love

[ef-1]

girlhood

[oculusxcaro]

[I portray Rorschach as gay but low-key his bond with Khare is so sweet and meaningful that I could see him being fine with platonically marrying Khare. In a world where that would even be on the table, which I'm sure is not.

but also Khare could get a green card that way. just sayin]

Rue, this is the sweetest thing and I'm sorry it's taken a while to reply to this because I kept coming back to this and grinning like an idiot until my cheeks hurt? Rorschach and Khare's relationship is by far one of my all-time favourite experiences, not just on this one thing but roleplaying in general.

Their connection is one of those things I never saw coming but holy crap, it's so good, the way their bond has grown so much and whenever I'm having a bad day, I just think back to one of their many interactions and start smiling like a loon all over again. It goes without saying your Rorschach is absolutely-fucking-phenomenal - all your muses are, but your writing in particular pulled Watchmen from the deepest recesses of 2009 and dragged it right back into the forefront again. Dan, Liz and Adrian are all beautifully written but I can't deny these two are something deeply special to me. Guilty as charged, your honor. ♥ Your Rorschach being gay (which I adore about him) is so brilliantly portrayed and reasoned, so it's all the more meaningful that, in the best case scenario, he'd actually be okay with platonically marrying Khare? I don't think she'd mind either; sure he's no Bruce Wayne, but that doesn't matter to her because she adores him and he really is the closest friend she's got, both in Gotham and probably in her life which was nothing special until, you know, the whole getting-kidnapped-and-turned-into-an-experimental-guinea-pig type thing. He's been good to her though, and even though not a lot of people like him very much, he's important to her, so even though it's not likely there's a world where this would actually happen given the issues™ our two have, just the thought that he'd willingly do this for her says a lot considering his attitude about women. She gets a green card, he gets a beard so nobody looks at them too closely and Rorschach can continue contending with his feelings and accept his being gay. It's a win/win situation if, you know, Rorschach didn't have a crippling deathwish and Khare wasn't basically rotting from the inside out. Still, it's a very sweet thing to think about and these two being able to heal from their pasts and come out as better people for it.

[terpia]

Apologies for the bummer, too personal post, but just because I need to vent (if that's even the right word here) -

What is it about the death of immediate family members that feels so unreal? My stepfather died unexpectedly this weekend, and even though I have fully internalised that on an intellectual level, on an emotional level it hasn't hit me at all yet. Same happened when my grandma died, it felt like it took my heart months to actually catch up to what happened.

[byanyan]

ㅤmistakes have been made.

in a moment of desperation for change and an intense self-destructive urge at the end of a rough week, the hair which byan has spent so long growing out... has been chopped off, just like that. where it once grazed their shoulders, it now sits cropped short in the only cut which could salvage the mess they made. —a cut which is far too masculine for their taste. something which only intensifies the regret they feel over such a stupid, impulsive act.

the upset in their expression, which has set into something just shy of being an outright scowl, quite accurately mirrors the way they're feeling right now. more on edge and volatile than usual, it might be best to give them some space. or, at the very least, avoid commenting on the very obvious change.