#never were together and would kill each other in a heartbeat for their allies but also were irrevocably changed by each other

[ceylonmoon]

the tsaritsa’s bloodhound x moon-coded puppet. do you see the vision!!

lyrics from be nice to me by the front bottoms

#genshin impact #capitano #genshin fanart #wanderer #scaramouche #capiscara #scaratano #FUCKK THEYRE SO DOOMED YAOI-CORE… #never were together and would kill each other in a heartbeat for their allies but also were irrevocably changed by each other #does that make sense!!! #sorry im being delusional again

[asweetprologue]

Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again. 

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con 

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings. 

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD 

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily. 

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449 

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates. 

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

~

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic recs #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #fic recs #fic rec #I'm certain i missed a lot of good ones I've read over the years but I didn't want to risk making this super fucking long anyways #if you didn't see your name listed it isn't bc I don't adore you and your fics it's because i'm stupid <333

[god1ngs]

━‎ end of the world

synopsis; a forbidden love told for generations

contains; human reader, major character death, swearing, mentions of war, spoilers

god c!technoblade / reader, 3.4k wc

note; the title doesn't make much sense but whatever lol ,, this is for @mayasimagines 's 600 event! congratulations and i hope you like this :)

   throughout the fall of countries, the crumbling of empires, there stood a man. he gazed upon the vast land, the grass stained red. buildings had crashed down, debris staining the area around them. they layed in heaps of piles, taller than most. the fallen down buildings had been a sign of the empire's loss.

   there was no one alive to commemorate the loss however.

   screaming rung inside of his head, shouting and yelling, with some other tones mixed in. displeased and ecstatic and mocking tones blended together, sounds of chaos lingering in the mind of the man. he only sighed, walking away from the destroyed country.

   he's seen this happen too many times before, the repetitive cycle of watching a country build itself only to come crashing down years later. they never lasted long. always the one for chaos, he sometimes participated in the destruction of the countries, though most times he didn't need to.

   humans were savage, brutal creatures who only cared about themselves. by studying their nature, the way they go about certain scenarios, he had figured out that much. selfish, twisted beings who would betray each other in a heartbeat. all it took was more wealth or a promise of better gear.

   how easily swayed they were. technoblade sneered, his red cape dragging beneath him as he stalked the hallways. pillars of quartz, chipped at the edges from years of standing, lined the hallway. they reached the ceiling, some even going higher. the magnificent red carpet he stalked down had ended at a throne.

   a throne made of gold, the shiniest material he could get his servants to find. emeralds and diamonds and rubies lined the top of it, the same jewels lining the gold of his crown. at last, he sat down, the voices calming down at the familiar seating area. they always got loud whenever there was destruction.

   technoblade, the blood god. also known as the god of war and chaos to many, he wasn't very popular among the peaceful people. people often worshipped him for protection, to which he rarely granted. protection from him, a god of war, was seldom. often he didn't care about the hunans enough to waste his protection on them.

   yet, one mortal, had caught his eye. they were nothing too special, middle class and usually someone technoblade wouldn't even spare a glance at. they were different though. they outshined any ray of sun, their smile proving to be the brighter of the two. he found them, despite all odds, very interesting.

   later, after wine and more sparring, the man had caught wind of philza coming over. philza, the angel of death, had been one of technoblade's good allies, even so far as to consider the blond a friend. he brought saints to their knees in their final moments, allowing them either an eternity in hell or a peaceful life above.

   he wanted to meet them, and technoblade always gets what he wants.

   even before technoblade had become the god he is now, forever cursed to watch humanity rip itself apart, he knew philza. the two fought wars together, never straying from their path of loyalty. the blond perched himself on the windowsill, his striking white wings folding on his back, as he smiled at the other. "hello technoblade." he greeted, ever the polite man.

   technoblade only scoffed, shaking his head with an amused grin. "please, phil," he drawled, looking from his red wine to the angel of death. "no need for the formalities. just call me techno." the blond threw his head back with a laugh, wide smile painting his features as the other chuckled. "of course, mate."

   silence washed over the pair for a moment, a comforting silence that allowed them to bask in the moment od seeing each other. they didn't get to visit often, one thing they mutually hated about being in the sky palace, usually swamped with other duties. philza with guiding people to the afterlife, and technoblade with causing conflict.

   "i actually wanted to talk about somethin' with ya, mate." phil broke the silence, hopping off of the marble windowsill to come lean against one of the pillars. the pink haired man, ever so interested, hummed questionably. "and what did you want to speak to me about? come on, spit it out." the man said, looking down at philza.

   he sighed, glancing up at technoblade. "you've been acting off, mate. less wars are starting, and that's weird for you. i know you also started protecting that one mortal. fuck, what was their name?" he murmured, brows furrowed. technoblade sighed in annoyance, not wanting to be pestered with questions.

   "[name]." he answered phil quietly, not bothering to look back at the blond man. the clouds danced with each other in the sky, entertwining and morphing with each other freely. sometimes he wishes he could be as free as the clouds. "you know," phil said, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes. the blood god could only dread what he was going to say. "rumor has it that gods only protect mortals they're interested in."

   the teasing, despite only being light hearted, had a quizzical undertone. while technoblade had been acting strange, protecting somebody was something phil had never expected. either something was special about that mortal and their family, or someone had begun fantasizing. he could only hope it wasn't the latter.

   with more conversation, technoblade denying any feelings blooming for a human, phil left to go do his job. he was alone with his thoughts, the voices making him tug at his own hair to keep them quiet. they craved the mortal, despite how much he willed himself to stay in his throne room, the man had to go see them.

   it was a normal day for you. nothing was different, much less weird. it was only normal, a basket of bread in your hands as you walked home. you hummed as you stepped on the path, enjoying the peaceful walk back to your house. you were content with your life, having a few people and more deaths than you could count.

   and see them he would.

   you partially blamed philza, the angel of death, for the passing of your loved ones, but you also knew he wasn't the one to kill them. he simply took them to the afterlife, guiding them to where they would spend the rest of their days. the deaths in your family had piled up, mostly from war and some of falling ill.

   you spent your days worshipping gods now. you were always the lonely type, choosing to stay by yourself rather than interact with others. you never minded the comforting embrace of being alone, the silence enveloping you at every given moment. it provided you with a sense of comfort you couldn't get anywhere else.

   while you did worship other gods, you mostly worshipped technoblade. he was the primary god, you giving up all your offerings to him ─ ranging from bread to trinkets to gold galore. the tales of the blood god, always grand stories with daring adventures that had you on the edge of your seat, had always intrigued you.

   your favorite, the one you read the most to the slim amount of people you did contact, was the tale of the butcher army. when he was human, a detail that many didn't know whether to believe or not, he blew up many countries. it hinted at the start of him being the god of war many years later. for punishment, the butcher army hunted him down.

   they lied to the man, once they had captured him, in which they had prepared for his execution. some say he died that day, only to be revived due to the gods holy whim; others say he had never died, and broke out of the iron bars to kill the men who had hunted him down. learning about the magnificent god, a god you admired, had faced an army of four and won, allowed you to admire him even further.

   once you got home, setting down your basket of bread, you had sighed. you always liked coming home, your safe space filling you with a joy like no other. the everlasting comfort of your home, a familiar place you longed to be at constantly, helped you feel safe. the comforting feeling of being home at last filled you at peace.

   until it wasn't so peaceful anymore.

   from your kitchen came a clanging noise. there were a few grunts followed afterwards, your eyes wide. fear flooded your system, nervousness coursing through your veins. you stayed silent, hoping you'd either been dreaming or had been imagining sounds. however, once a voice spoke, you knew that was not the case.

   from your kitchen came, with his red cape dragging behind him, technoblade. you stammered, confusion replacing your previous nervousness. your grip came loose on the item you were holding, not being able to process what you were seeing. "well this is awkward." the god stated, putting your kitchen utensils he had just knocked down back on your counter.

   if anything, this was awkward. very awkward. who expected a god to come through their kitchen window? "uh, do you," you stuttered, voice measily yet you still tried to fight it out. "do you mind telling me why you're here?" it was more than odd to see a god in your kitchen, the sight one hard to believe for even yourself.

   technoblade had sighed, draping himself over your couch cushions as if he lived there. his arms, unlike your bare ones, spread across the back of your couch, the sight making you nearly sigh. "well, mortal, i had taken intrest in you." he answered bluntly, your mind still reeling from the fact that he was even here, but taking interest in you? no, this had to be some kind of joke.

   the visible confusion highlighting your features made the god chuckle. it was amusing, seeing the looks on mortals' faces whenever something odd or unexplainable happened. "what's so confusing? i took interest in you, and so i came down here to see you." the blood god explained, shrugging his shoulders. the confusion you felt only worsened.

   why was the question. why was a god in your house? why had he taken interest in you? you shook your head, suddenly feeling lightheaded. "sorry, i need to sit down." you muttered, trying to regain your footing. you sat down, going slowly as to not pass out in front of him. "so," you spoke up as soon as you had calmed down. "why have you taken interest in me?"

   a cloud of silence loomed over the two of you, technoblade falling into his thoughts. why had he taken interest in you? there was no particular shining traits in you, even if he studied you as if you had carved out the world with your own hands; he watched you as if you had brung down a fantastic reign upon everybody.

   "who knows?" he wondered aloud, a hum of amusement following his words. technoblade didn't know the reason for it, and despite itching with curiosity, he didn't bother trying to find out. he only let it be, coming to terms with the fact that you, a mortal, had piqued his interest. you kept him entertained, and that's all that mattered.

   after the two of you talking more, you still trying to get over the shock that the blood god was in your home, you had to say that he was fairly a nice guy. maybe he was kinder than all of the other ones, however you've never crossed paths with a god either, so you couldn't tell. when technoblade had stood up, braided hair falling against your couch, you knew it was time for him to go.

   he turned to look down on you, his towering figure highly intimidating. there was a reason he was feared across nations. he stared at you for a second, maybe deciding on what to say, though you couldn't tell with his blank expression. the man only sighed, wishing you a good day, and then turned to leave.

   "you've got me interested, technoblade."

   you only spoke to the god more after the first encounter. seconds turned into minutes and then minutes turned to hours. he was an interesting guy, choosing which emotion to show and when to show it. perhaps it came with being a god. as he came by more, each visit surprising you, you only talked to him more.

   "as you've got me, [name]."

   soon he started telling you stories. the butcher army, the l'manberg war, how he met philza. he told you great things of philza, the angel of death, so much so you nearly stopped disliking philza. you were always interested in his stories though, no matter how long or how action packed. each further lured you in to his grasp.

   technoblade, however, had stopped visiting so often. with more conflict arising everyday, he didn't have as much time to visit you anymore ─ philza was starting to catch on as well. how he wasn't home as often or how he lied to philza each time he asked him where he was. he was getting suspicious, and wanted answers quickly.

   philza confronted technoblade on this issue a while later. his wings puffed up confidently, he was so sure something was going on with his eldest friends, the edges torn at the seams. "technoblade." he addressed politely, standing in front of his throne once again, as he did not so long ago. he would get answers out of him.

   technoblade only sighed, his cheek pressed against his closed fists as he stared at philza. "yes, philza?" he asked, voice heavy with exhaustion. the recent wars, as much as he loved the excitement and panic that came with it, have been too tiring for him. he also couldn't visit you that morning, only pissing him off more.

   "have you been seeing the mortal you told me you had interest in?"

   silence crashed over the room, violent in its malicious intent. phil's questioned nipped at the blood god, desperately pleading for an answer. philza sighed, one of disappointment and perhaps even anger. the silence was enough of an answer. "mate, are you kidding me?"

   technoblade merely sighed, eyes narrowing at the blond. "you have no say on who i take interest in, phil. that is none of your concern." he dismissed the blond, turning back to look at the window. philza had no say in what technoblade done with his life, no matter how long the two have been friends.

   "none of my concern? mate, they're a mortal and you're a god! hell, the blood god! for fucks sake, mate, you can't be seeing mortals!" philza snapped, brows furrowed and cheeks red from anger. the trouble a god could get in from seeing a mortal was irredeemable.

   if technoblade got caught with the mortal, he would lose not only his titles, but his life. he would be executed.

   technoblade merely scoffed however, rolling his eyes. "as if i'll get caught, philza. those laws are stupid anyways. what, are you going to tell on me?" he arched his brows at the angel of death, sneering at him. how dare he barge into his temple and then go off at him; a beloved friend of his.

   however, the mortal was too intresting to not keep seeing. he may of even caught feelings. how laughable ─ the blood god, feared across empires, falling for a mere mortal. philza only sighed, rubbing his temples. he weighed his options: technoblade could continue seeing the mortal, get caught, and then both of them get in trouble.

   or philza could tell the council. tell them of his affairs, tell them why he hasn't been here as often. once more, a vicious silence swept over them. only for a moment, for philza had declared:

   "if you don't stop seeing this mortal, i'll have no choice but to stop it. don't make me do it, mate."

   his evening visit was late that night. you had already prepared dinner, setting it up for when he was to arrive. from what he's told you, he hasn't had human food in a long time. he told you that gods didn't need to eat nor sleep. you had decided to make him food for when he comes, wanting him to have food even if he doesn't need it.

   the gust of wind from deceiving angel wings swept across his face. messy hair cascaded over his face, and for once, the blood god had found a problem he didn't know he could solve.

   ten minutes. twenty minutes. thirty minutes. you sighed at the mocking tick of the clock, each passing second being another sign that he wasn't going to come. perhaps he had better things to do. frowning, you began to gather the food up, knowing you wouldn't eat it all, before the familiar two knocks came at your door.

   rushing over, once you had opened it, you were surprised to see something different than you were used to.

   technoblade was there, but he looked different. more angry, perhaps even upset.

   worried, you frowned at the god. "are you okay?" you asked, hoping the man was alright. the god only nodded, staring at the ground. he came back to you after a moment of silence, sighing. "yes, just got caught up in some things. nothing for you to be concerned of." he said, brushing you off before you could even speak.

   when technoblade had gone back to his temple, rubbing his temples with a sigh, something unexpected had greeted him. there was philza, perched on the window with a firm look of coldness. "visiting the mortal again, were you, mate?" he asked once he had came into view. technoblade had half a mind to tell him to fuck off.

   that night provided a great distraction from what would come the following days.

   no words were spoken from technoblade afterwards. the betrayal of another friend, a promise to do something about his meetings, had wounded him. he didn't want to lose philza, but also had begun to realise something ─ he had caught feelings for the mortal.

   for you, who had been the sunshine on his darkest days. call it a cliche, but technoblade truly didn't know happiness if you weren't by his side. having watched countless deaths and falls of kingdoms over the many, many years of being alive, the man had never found as great of a comfort than by your side. you were the sun to his moon, a forever shining force to his immortal darkness.

   though the moon and sun are destined to never touch.

   that night, philza had technoblade bring him to your house under promise of telling the council. they had shown up to your house late at night, when the world was asleep. it had been abrupt, the two males coming into your home. you were shaking, scared as to what this meant. the angel of death and the blood god inside your home could mean nothing good.

   and you were right. that night, that forsaken night, technoblade had been cursed in front of your eyes. the wide eyed look on his face, the shock of what a former friend could do. you tried to reach out for him, but were stopped by philza. he permitted you to stay still, or else your blood would be on your walls.

   "technoblade, the blood god and the god of war, i hereby sentence you to an eternity of reincarnation. as long as you are alive, your lover, [name] [last name], will be killed and reincarnated. only ever letting you get close enough to hardly touch them."

   your words were caught in your throat, the cruel punishment knocking the wind out of you. philza's eyes shone, bright in an unholy way, rising up with his wings behind him. technoblade had felt the burning sensation of a marking, a forever sign of the curse, on the side of his neck. a flower had been burnt into the side of his neck, your favorite flower.

   "i'm sorry, technoblade." were the last words you heard before a sword made of light had stabbed through your stomach.

   the blood god had frantically scooped up your body in his arms, panicking for the first time since you've seen him. he tried to get you to say anything, although the words were too hard to say, no matter how hard you tried to get them out. he reassured you would be okay, despite knowing the inevitable would happen.

   "you should've listened to him ... heh, you're a dumbass, you know that?"

   you took your last breath seconds later.

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyts x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade imagines #technoblade x reader #dream smp techno #technoblade x y/n #angst #c!technoblade x reader #( ♡ ) + bones writes #( ♡ ) + oneshots

[marvelatthetwilight]

Secrets & Lies

Part 1: The Secret

Part 2: The Secret’s Out

A/N: Thank you all so much for your feedback on part 1 and 2. I see there potentially being one more part to this, if people want it!?

The day had come. The snow was settling and the allies had gathered at the Cullen house, ready to defend their friends against the Volturi.

You felt out of your depth completely. Surrounded by red eyed vampires, reminding you of the crimson eyes of Demetri, his face haunting your thoughts and your dreams.

You hadn’t heard from him at all. Nothing.

Bella had decided it was a good thing, that maybe he had a conscience and he had decided the best thing for you was to keep you here, where you were safe. Carlisle wasn’t so sure, knowing Aro as he did, he would never forcibly keep you from Demetri, but he had strict rules about newborns in Volterra. He and Edward talked about this at length each evening. Edward feared that Aro had more sinister intentions, and he knew he possibly couldn’t save you from that without putting his family at risk. He worried for Bella if his suspicions were true.

You had spent so much time together in these weeks, helping her to gain full control of her thirst and supporting her with your gift (not that you could help her really, but she appreciated your support either way). You knew that Edward was worried about you becoming close when it was inevitable that you would soon be separated, you had overheard him advising her to distance herself, that it would be harder for her and Renesmee the more time you spent together. He quickly changed the conversation when he heard your thoughts on the matter, realising that you were nearby and he hasn’t spoken of it since.

Jacob had become distant too, his guard was raised constantly in a household full of red eyed “bloodsuckers”. He had overheard enough conversations to know that it was inevitable that Demetri would take you, and that you would be turned and be like them. He was saving his heart from being broken again, losing another friend to the other side. Instead, he focused himself on his imprint, trying to keep her happy and distracted from the chaos that was building around her, but that didn’t stop him from caring about you, wishfully thinking there was something he could do to save you.

~~~

“Y/N should come with us. Either way Demetri will look for her, we just put more people at risk if we try to hide her” Rosalie says with a sigh.

“You know I can hear you Rose, you don’t need to talk as if I’m not here” she rolls her eyes at you as you turn to Carlisle and Edward.

“You’ll be at risk if you come with us, surrounded by those who don’t share the same

“I don’t want to put anyone at risk, I’ll come with you” I want to be with Demetri. Edward looks over at you. Sorry.

He smiles at you, “I already told you, it’s the mate pull, you can’t help it. I’m glad that you are thinking positively about it.”

“I just...I just don’t want anyone else to be hurt because they’re trying to protect me from the inevitable” you sigh as you look around at your friends.

“Being part of the Volturi aside, the mate bond is pretty cool” Emmett says as he pulls Rosalie into his side.

You smiled at Emmett, thinking about Demetri holding you in the same way. Your face flushed with embarrassment as Edward coughed lightly, reminding you he was there. Sorry again.

I suppose we’ve just got to wait and see what happens now.

Demetri’s POV

The Masters had landed in Seattle, ready to make the journey into Forks to “speak” the Cullens. We were due to meet them, along with our witnesses we had gathered in a clearing outside of Seattle, before moving to the agreed clearing to meet the Cullens.

The anticipation of seeing Y/N was killing me, if I wasn’t already dead, of course.

I had been preparing myself to explain what had happened, why I had kept this secret from them. As soon as Aro takes my hand he will know what has happened and what I’ve done, I need it clear in my mind my reasons for it.

I wanted to give her time to say goodbye.

I tapped your foot on the floor in anticipation, Felix glanced at me before growling low. Calm he mouthed to me. I shot him an apologetic look before forcing my foot to stop.

The Masters swept into the field, surrounded by the rest of the upper guard, along with some lower guard and the witnesses they had gathered on the way. We walk towards them, Jane offering her hand to Aro as we get close enough. He glances at me as he searches through Jane’s mind. He turns to look at his brothers.

“It seems that our dear Demetri has met his mate. And she is a Cullen no less!”

“Is she gifted? Could she be of use to us brother?” Caius asks Aro, seemingly disinterested in the conversation unless it benefits him in some way.

“She is still human brother, she’s a human Cullen. Like our dear Bella was” Caius growls at this statement.

“We still do not know if they have kept their word brother” Aro snaps his head in Caius’ direction. “You think they would lie to to us brother? That they had kept it a secret that she is still human? Fed us lies about her changing? That I am stupid enough to fall for that?” Aro was now inches away from Caius’ face, his body tense with anger. Marcus breaks the tense silence with a question directed to me.

“Why did you not inform us of this dear boy? You have waited centuries to find her, I would think you would have shouted this from the rooftops.”

I sensed the hurt in Marcus’ voice. He treated me like family, and I would normally talk to him about most things, it was unusual for me to keep a secret.

“I wanted to give her time. They know what is coming. They know that she will come with us, I just wanted to give her time with them to say goodbye.” I plead with Marcus, hoping he can sense my bond to her, but know that my bond to the Volturi has not wavered.

“What do you say brother? These secrets and lies must mean that Demetri’s ties to us are...weakening does it not?” Caius turns to Marcus, expecting him to confirm his suspicions I assume, but he does not.

“Our dear Demetri has strong feelings for this Cullen yes, but his loyalty to us has not changed, he just has additional bonds, that is all.” Aro smiles at this, and clasps his hands together, suggesting he has made a plan.

“Y/N will come with us to Volterra following our meeting with the Cullens. As a human, she was not to know of our rules regarding immortal children, she is not to blame here. However, Demetri dear...she will have to be turned. For your loyalty we will allow her to stay in Volterra, but you and Felix will need to train her. She can join the lower guard.” With that, Aro turns and clicks, commanding the guard to follow him towards Forks.

~~~

You stood between Edward and Carlisle, the rest of the Cullens to your left side, except for Alice and Jasper who had still not returned. Bella, Renesme and Jacob stand to your right, with the rest of the wolves and the Cullen allies behind you.

You were very aware of the fact you would be the sole human, in a field full of vampires, and though you attempted to still your heartbeat, it was thumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. “Just breathe Y/N, no one will harm you” Edward said, glancing at you, having heard your panic. You took a deep breath, before you felt something nudge at your shoulder. You turn to see Jake, looking at you with worry in his eyes, and you reach to stroke the side of his face, letting the softness of his fur calm you. You lean against him as you whisper “I’ll be ok Jake. I’ll be ok” he whines softly at this, knowing that this might be the last time he ever sees you. That it will definitely be the last time he sees you human, and he takes the moment to take in every detail he can, before moving back to his place beside his imprint.

You take a sharp intake of breath as you see the Volturi appearing in the distance, it is clear that they outnumber the group standing behind you, and the fear inside you increases.

“Aro’s looking for Alice” Edward whispers, as you look carefully at the figures in front of you, your human vision not enough for you to be able to identify figures. Your heartbeat rises as your eyes feel drawn towards a figure to the left of the figures in the middle, Demetri.

Demetri’s POV

I can’t take my eyes off of her, her hands clenched at her side, eyes darting across the group beside me as she attempts to focus on the figures. She’s looking for me.

Carlisle walks forward before speaking, but my eyes can’t leave Y/N. “Aro, let us discuss things as we used to, in a civilised manner.”

Caius scoffs at his words before Aro replies “Fair words, Carlisle. But a little out of place given the battalion you have assembled against us”.

Carlisle shakes his head, “I can promise you, that was never my intent. No laws have been broken”

“We see the child, do not treat us as fools” Caius spits out in reply.

The conversation continues with Carlisle confident of his innocence and Aro confident in his guilt, asking for evidence of his innocence by meeting the supposed immortal child.

“Edward, as the child clings to your newborn mate, I assume you are involved”

Edward looks at Bella before walking towards Aro, his hand stretching out as soon as he is close enough. Aro takes the offered hand, enclosing it in his own, he hums with interest.

“I’d like to meet her.”

Edward turns to look at Bella and the immortal child before nodding. Bella, the child, the wolf and the large Cullen begin walking before Aro interrupts.

“Bring Y/N with you young Bella, I know dear Demetri is keen to have her safely with him and we are all very keen to meet her.” He smiles before looking towards me, I nod briefly, before walking towards where he is standing with Edward.

I will not harm her.

Edward looks at me in shock, before nodding in understanding, and he looks back towards his mate.

The group continues walking, this time with Y/N in tow. The walk is painfully slow, and I can’t stop my foot from tapping impatiently in the snow.

When they finally reach us, I realise that I’m frowning, and I quickly try to replace this with a natural smile before looking towards Y/N, but she avoids my gaze.

“Ah, young Bella. Immortality becomes you.” He turns to Y/N, “and Y/N, you are even more beautiful than Demetri described, we are all looking forward to you joining us in Volterra. You will go to him now yes?”

Y/N looks at me and I smile at her, nodding, before she steps tentatively towards me.

~~~

You walk towards Demetri, his eyes locked on yours, and suddenly you are no longer aware of what is going on around you.

“Y/N” he breaths out your name, and you realise you’ve never heard your name sound so beautiful as it does when it comes from his mouth.

All the weeks you’ve been waiting for him have led to this moment, “Demetri” you reply, and he smiles at the sound of your voice.

He holds out his hand to you and you take it, walking away from the group talking in the middle, you glance back to see Aro leaning forward as Renesmee holds her hand to his cheek.

“Y/N I must first apologise, I wanted to contact you, I was desperate to, but, I feared that if I contacted you that this would shorten your time with your family and your friends. I did not wish to take that time from you.” He gently touches his hand to your cheek, and you place your hand on top of his own.

“I don’t mind, I keep being reminded that we will have forever together, so I’m sure you will be able to make it up to me” you reply with a hint of flirtation to your voice. You cup your hand over your mouth, realising that you were still close enough to be heard by everyone else and your face flushed.

Demetri chuckles at this, before his attention is drawn back to the group standing with Aro. Everyone’s attention is now far into the distance, with your human vision you have difficulty making out the figures until they are much closer. Alice.

You cannot hear the conversation between Aro and Alice, but can see her stretch out her hand for Aro to take. Demetri tenses at my side, and you sense the conversation is not going as expected. Demetri glances to the tall vampire you saw him with when you first met, who nods briefly and before you can register what is happening you are in Demetri’s arms travelling faster than you thought possible.

Your mind tries to process what you have seen, trying to rationalise the raised voices you briefly heard before you were picked up. What was Alice so angry about? What did Demetri not want you to see?

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @raindancer2004 @officialfictionalwreck @megzdoodle @slasher-sweetie @evakipara @reclusive-chicken-nugget @icarusinstatic

Part 4: Sick of Secrets

#demetri x reader #demetri volturi #demetri imagine #volturi #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #twilight

[zabiume]

Not to sound demanding but I'd really love it if you'd write something with a prompt about ichigo and orihime breaking up and then getting back together 😀

You know, it's funny you asked for this because I'd been contemplating writing one for the longest time ever but didn't do it because I couldn't fathom a post-TYBW, mature IchiHime breaking up, considering they generally do tend to resolve their conflicts pretty quickly now, but I loved the intrigue of this and I hope I didn't butcher anyone's characterization here (even though I feel like I did).

Warning(s) for discussions of trauma, depression, self-loathing, and explicit content. Rated 'M' for adult themes.

Read on AO3/ff.net

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

(part i)

In the end, it was Orihime who decided to end things—a fact that surprised almost every friend and ally they’d ever made in the seven years they’d known each other, the five months after, when they had first started dating.

Those first five months had been nothing but warm. Even at their clumsiest moments—the thick uncertainty in the air when Ichigo had reached for a hand but grabbed air, or Orihime had tilted up to his mouth and met his chin—it had never been uncomfortable.

It was simply the consequence of being, of learning each other in ways they hadn’t allowed themselves to before when they were teenagers. They were young, and they were in love—which, she supposed, was a miracle for two people that had spent most of their childhood chasing after battles they had created for themselves, battles that had been thrust upon them for life, or for pride, whatever side of the coin they’d chosen this time. There was a time and place for most things in their life, and this time, they had decided, was their time to just do, and be and act for a change with no demands or promises for more.

It was in January that Ichigo had come over for a sleepover, the sharp winter air smoothing over them as they watched television.

“Do you think animals go to Soul Society when they die?” she murmured into his thigh, her hair splayed all over his lap as they watched a pack of lionesses chase a gazelle on cable.

Ichigo’s thumb paused from where it was rubbing lazy circles over her ear. “Dunno.” Then, “I saw a gecko once in Hueco Mundo.”

“A gecko?” She smiled.

“Yeah. One of those lizard things. Y’know. The one that looks a little bit like Ishida.”

She covered her mouth to keep a laugh from spilling out. “I’m telling him you said that.”

“I’ll tell him you laughed.”

She could hear the smile in his voice despite the nonchalance and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to see it, twisting in place until she was on her back, his knee digging into her love handles.

"Come here," he whispered, eyes dark and full of intent when they settled on hers, and Orihime knew what he was going to do before he did it. She propped herself up with one palm on his knee and used the other to touch his cheek, looking into his eyes and hoping to convey everything she couldn't say. When he kissed her softly, so softly it ached, she might as well have been floating. It was such a wonderful intimacy, so simple and earnest that it filled her chest with joy—joy she had never thought she would get to experience again after that night she had said goodbye to him, all those many years ago.

“You’re so forward, Ichigo-kun,” she chided lightly when they parted, shifting to bury her head in his shoulder.

He snorted, but brought his hand up to rest on her back. It was warm. Safe. That was the part about this she loved best, she thought, watching the tv again, letting her mind drift.

Her first night in Hueco Mundo, she’d stayed up for so long, flinching at every passing shadow under the doorway, wondering for hours what they’d do to her; whether they’d kill her, or something worse entirely, her heartbeat fierce in her throat when they’d made her change into uniform right there, right in front of Ulquiorra and his blank, unfeeling stare. She knew now that that was the last thing he had wanted from her, but there were no words to describe how unsafe she felt back then. How afraid.

The little gazelle, now surrounded on all sides by the pack of snarling lionesses, began to tremble on her little legs but challenged them all with a fierce gaze. Ichigo yawned. Orihime felt something cold lodge in her throat, fingers digging into her arms on either side. The gazelle cowered. She was powerless; they would devour her for that alone.

“Something wrong?” Ichigo frowned.

“Can you change the channel please?” she asked tearfully, shying away from the screen and into his shoulder. She knew she was being irrational, but her hands were frigid and her heart had already welled up to her throat.

Ichigo was quiet for a moment. Orihime bit her lip, feeling small and tense when his body left hers to fumble around for the remote. When he returned to her side, his eyes were kind. “Let's watch Laugh Hour instead.”

She nodded, her chest filling with warmth when he tugged her back in place with a tight side hug, chin firmly planted on her head.

They stayed that way until the end of the program.

…

In the morning, she had felt ashamed of herself for reacting like that and apologized to Ichigo, who shook his head firmly and told her not to worry about it. His eyes had blazed in that familiar way—the way he got when they talked about Hueco Mundo, or rather, what they didn’t talk about Hueco Mundo, but said nothing. Ichigo knew the gist of it, but there were parts she kept secret because she knew he would blame himself, no matter how long it had been or how much stronger she had gotten since, and that was not something she wanted. She was different now—they were different now. The one thing she knew for sure was that she never wanted to stare after his retreating back ever again.

At the time, she could've sworn that was a one-off. But it wasn't. She felt feverish, like she'd been hollowed out. Though Ichigo had been nothing but normal towards her since that night, she felt something within her start to shrivel. She held back from reaching out to him, convinced she was growing far too dependent. Clingy. She began to wonder when he’d start feeling tired of her—when she would become more of an obligation and less of...whatever she was to him now. Orihime trusted him to be honest with her mostly, but the nagging voice in her head was insistent. After all, most people who got together as young as her and Ichigo did didn't stay together long. The magic would wear off soon and he’d see her for exactly who she was.

Useless. Weak. A burden.

She felt hollowed out.

...

Eventually, it was the smallest thing that set her off. They’d been having dinner, Orihime and his family, and Ichigo had made a little joke about her banana balsamic smoothies that burned the tips of her ears. It wasn’t even that; it was what Isshin said after that really, truly filled her with dread.

“You’ll have acquired a taste for it by the time you’re married, my boy!”

Ichigo had groaned at the double entendre, Isshin had positively beamed and Orihime—

Orihime was quiet the entire car ride home.

It was over. It had to be, for his own sake. She didn’t mind being lonely, but the last thing she wanted to do was hold him back. Though her head was in the clouds, her feet were rather firm on the ground and she knew, while she would always be in love with Ichigo, she didn’t have to tie him down. She had been selfish for wanting this, for not giving it up sooner.

Ichigo shot her a small glance from the corner of his eye. “Orihime, are you okay?”

She took a big, deep breath, knowing it was over. That she had ruined things for good with him.

“I want to break up,” she whispered, and that was the end of it.

…

The retreating winter rain held on all through February.

"I watched him die, you know. It was the worst day of my life," Orihime murmured, hearing Tatsuki's breath catch with the admission. "And I told myself, never again—I will never let him walk away from a fight injured ever again. I'll get stronger so I don't have to be a burden to him. And I did." She turned on her side, eyes brimming with tears. "So why is this happening again? Why do I feel like this, Tatsuki-chan?"

"Orihime." Tatsuki sighed gently, pulling the covers over them both. She'd seen this before, among students who'd broken a bone or been benched after a debilitating injury. They always thought they'd gotten better. They did get better. But that didn't mean the traces of the past didn't still linger in their deepest fears. Trauma didn't work that way. Trauma didn't care about how you were doing today, all it cared about was throwing your failures from yesterday right back in your face. And for someone who hated herself as much as Orihime did, it was a roadblock that told her she didn't deserve the life she had today.

"You're relapsing, honey. What happened to you over there wasn't your fault. You were scared and sixteen. You only think you could have done something now because you're older and stronger and more mature, but that girl? The girl that got kidnapped and tortured the way she did? You have to forgive her for not knowing any better."

Orihime said nothing.

Tatsuki sighed again. Orihime could be stubborn as a rock when she wanted to be. "I'm sure Ichigo would tell you the same thing if you hadn't broken up with him." She paused. "That's why you broke up with him, didn't you? You didn't want to hear it. Idiot."

"I didn't want him to blame himself."

"He does do that," Tatsuki admitted slowly, "but you two are all grown-up now. He's not the same boy he was when he met you, and you aren't the same girl. Don't you think you two have been through enough together for something as small as this to get in the way?"

Orihime sniffed. "I don't know."

Tatsuki pat her head. "You'll figure it out. I know you will."

…

The weeks leading up to April were probably the worst of it. Ichigo spent days drifting sleeplessly, wondering where he had gone so wrong at this, why he’d been unable to fix it. He knew he could be obtuse—had been told as much by everyone—but the failure of it dug deep now because they might as well have been right.

Even now, two months after the break-up, he still couldn’t find it in him to regret the time they had spent together, roaming around town aimlessly, laughing, holding hands, making love. The way she’d lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth so sweetly sometimes for no reason at all or call him, simply because she remembered him.

That day in his car, he’d begged her to talk, to tell him what he’d done and how he could fix it.

“Was it Dad? Did he say something to offend you?” he demanded desperately, feeling his heart seize at her downcast eyes. She was pale, and her eyes were red, but her mouth was firm, like she’d already convinced herself that whatever it was, it was bad. “Orihime. Say something.”

“No,” she whispered tearfully. “I just feel sick.”

“Of me?”

“No.”

She’d stared at her nails but she hadn’t said anything else.

A part of him craved her so much, hoping they’d run into each other somewhere or she’d call him, just so he could hear her voice. It wasn’t even about being together—not all of it. Mostly, he just wanted to know if she was okay, if she was eating well and passing her courses and if, when she went to bed at night, she had someone to smile about.

“I don’t know how you did it for forty years,” Ichigo grumbled, when he dragged himself out of bed to meet with Renji one day. “I felt like throwing rocks at her apartment window after four days so she would just talk to me, even just to tell me to fuck off.”

“Give her space,” Renji said patiently. “Maybe talking to you isn’t what she needs right now, and, knowing you, you’re probably beating yourself up about it—which is stupid as hell, by the way.”

“Then what do you want me to do?” Ichigo demanded. “She broke up with me.” She was sick, in her own words, and she wanted Ichigo to do nothing about it but walk.

Renji blew out a big breath. “She’s probably hurting as much as you are.” At Ichigo’s dubious look, he shook his head. “Take it from me, Ichigo, it takes a lot out of your sails to let go of someone you’ve loved forever if you think they’ve got a shot at something better.”

“Being with her is better for me,” Ichigo snapped. ”How could she think any differently, after everything we’ve been through?”

“How would she know that if you two didn’t spend any time apart?” Renji insisted, nudging his shoulder. “Give her time. You’re both young, you’ve still got a lot of learning to do…”

“...Just don’t wait for forty years and two wars for that to happen, alright?”

(part ii)

Weeks pass, and Orihime does her best to rebuild herself again, fielding concerned texts from Uryu and Chad politely, pleading with Rukia not to kick Ichigo out of doors and windows for something that was of no fault of his.

Ultimately, the first time she ends up seeing him after the break-up, it's at Chad’s birthday party. She knew she would before she got here, and it's probably why she's tipsy the way she is, but it doesn't stop her from stealing a peek at him where he's leaned against the door, talking to Mizuro.

It doesn't take him long to spot her, even with a sparse crowd between them, and when his mouth edges up in an uncertain smile, she feels her heart start to flutter. He's just as handsome as he was two months ago, high cheekbones, sharp hair that's trimmed maybe two inches shorter up his neck. He's already abandoned Mizuro in a bid to make his way up to her and the air feels electric with possibility.

"I'll make myself scarce then," Orihime barely hears Tatsuki say as he gets there, only two feet in front of her. All breath leaves her in a short rush. It both feels like too long and no time at all.

"Hey," Ichigo says softly, his eyes taking her in from head to toe until his gaze alone is enough to induce a fever under her skin. "How've you been?"

"F-fine," she lies, and they both catch it, faint and uncertain.

Ichigo takes one glance back at the kitchen, where most of their friends are, before fixing his intent gaze on her again. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

...

The zipper on Ichigo's jeans keeps digging into her inner thigh, but Orihime isn't about to stop him any time soon.

"Ichigo," she gasps, tugging the short ends of his hair with blunt fingernails. Her skirt is askew, and his hands are on her underwear, and she can't breathe—he keeps bucking into her, pushing her against the wall like he can't stay away from her for too long without snapping back. Her hands push at his jacket, urging him to shrug it off frustratedly.

"Not here," he mutters against her lips, one hand distractedly fumbling against the wall to find a light switch. "I'll take you to bed."

They're at his apartment and he's holding her up with his body, his firm biceps tensing under her fingers like it hasn't been two whole months since the last time they did this.

"I missed you," she confesses weakly, and when he groans into the kiss, she can feel it thrum in the back of her throat. She needs him now and she needs him hard, as if to make up for all the times she spent remembering him with nothing but her hand between her legs. Whatever comes by later, that's for them to deal with later.

"I can't find the light switch," he mumbles, and he pulls away just long enough for her to catch her lipstick stains on his mouth.

They give up on it and collapse back onto the floor.

…

Later, with her head on his chest and his fingers trailing down the soft line of her spine, she feels content in a way she hasn't been in months. When they finished, he told her he missed her too and that's something she's been thinking about since.

"Orihime," he says gently, his mouth warm against her ear. "Can we talk about it?"

Orihime lifts her head, and digs her chin into his chest, cheeks still pink from the afterglow. "It?"

"Why we broke up."

Orihime feels her guilt twist sourly into the base of her stomach. She pushes herself up to sit on one watery elbow, eyes not meeting his. "My brain was being bad to me." She felt her breath catch when his hand reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear and suddenly, she wanted to tell him everything, every thought she'd ever had. "I was overthinking too much, and everything that was making me happy started making me sad." When her eyes finally shift up, they're wet. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't want you to settle for someone like me."

Ichigo's eyebrows raise high before relaxing, and he drags her back down until his lips press against her forehead. He lets her press her face into his neck and breathe him in for a few quiet moments.

When he finally speaks again, his eyes are sad. "I didn't settle for you." There’s a cool edge to his voice. "I chose you."

Orihime's eyes widen. "Ichigo—"

"I don't know what I deserve, but I know what I want," he says strongly, "And what I want is you." His eyes finally soften, cheeks burning when their gazes meet. "Don't you want me, too?"

"I do," Orihime says sadly.

He sighs. "Then stop making yourself so damn sad already."

Orihime sniffles through a small giggle, and Ichigo smirks, just a slight tug of his mouth before growing serious again.

"You don't have to go through anything like that alone again," he says firmly, cupping her cheeks to make her look at him. "You have me. We're a team, right?"

Orihime nods, tightening her arms around him, feeling mellow and warm when he hugs her back. They’re almost falling asleep again when she lifts her head up and drags one finger under his jaw. “I’m sorry I wasn’t ready to hear it then.”

He smiles, and he’s almost her Ichigo again—her bright, brilliant and beautiful Ichigo and she can’t help but return it.

“Are you ready to hear it now?”

“Hmm.”

“Good,” he says, “because I’ll keep telling you as many times as you need it."

#i can't tell if this turned out good or bad or too dramatic or not dramatic enough lol #hope you liked it anon! #ichihime #asks #myfic #happy birthday hime! #im sorry i wrote you a sad fic but it ends happy if that counts?

[flightlessangelwings]

Grant a Name to a Buried and a Burning Flame ~ Chapter 3 (end)

Hades!Din Djarin x Persephone!Reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

Chapter 3/3 (previous chapters in my masterlist)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Hades/Persephone retelling, historical setting, soulmate AU, fluff, angst, character death (kinda sorta, just trust me I don’t want to spoil anything), happy ending

Moodboard made by me

~

Ever since Din took you to his room on that night, you had spent every night since with him. For a man who had killed without mercy, he was always so gentle with you, and you never felt safer than when you laid in his embrace. And the more nights you spent with Din, the more you fell in love with him. The pull you both felt towards each other was finally calmed with your union, and neither of you had ever felt this happy or content in your lives.

Time flew by and before you both knew it, your last night in Din’s kingdom was upon you. With a sigh you nuzzled yourself into his arms and you felt him squeeze you tighter. The two of you lay nude in his bed, and yet you felt as if you couldn’t get enough contact with him. Din also felt the desperate need for as much skin to skin contact as possible. It was as if he could never get enough ever since the first night you spent lost in pleasure with him, especially since you were the first skin to skin contact he had in his entire adulthood.

You wish you had spent more time with him in bed, since it took you some time to let your walls down around him. But since those walls came down, the emotions poured out, and you found yourself more drawn to him than ever. And Din felt the same way about you. He took in a deep breath as he held you in his arms and savored the warmth of your body against his and the soft smell of flowers that you always had.

“Din…” you broke the comfortable silence with your soft voice, “What do you think would happen if I didn’t go back.”

You felt his chest rumble with a questioning grunt as Din shifted himself to look at your face, “You would stay? With me?” he paused, “For me?”

You couldn’t help but smile through your sad eyes, “I would,” you gazed into his soft brown eyes and you saw the same sadness reflected in them as you felt. 

Din was surprisingly expressive with his eyes, which was something you did not expect from a man who hid his face from everyone except for you. Whether it was his body language or the way he looked at you, you almost always knew what he was thinking. After several moments of silence, he spoke again, “It’s risking a lot, with the deal we struck…”

“I know,” you sighed as you rested your head back down on his chest and just listened to his heartbeat for a few minutes. “I know this wasn’t exactly what I wanted at first… At least that's what I thought,” you let out a short laugh as you thought back to your unconventional first meeting, “But what about what I want?”

“What do you want?” he asked right away as he hand flexed against your skin.

A half smile flashed across your face; Din was the first person in your life to ask what you wanted and you did not take that lightly, “You.”

Din held you even tighter somehow as he placed a soft kiss to your head, “I’ll protect you, no matter what happens.”

“I can take care of myself, Din,” you quipped back softly without malice in your voice. You had always been tough, and people always underestimated you. People saw your appearance and your flowers against your skin and immediately thought you were weak, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. And during your time with Din, he made sure to show you self defense techniques just in case you needed them. You were definitely a force not to be reckoned with.

“I know you can, my love,” he replied as he brought a hand under your chin to tilt your head back up, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t defend you with everything I have. You mean more to me than anything else.”

You genuinely smiled at his words, “Since when were you so poetic?” you kissed his lips, “But I love you regardless,” you whispered against him.

“I love you too,” Din said your name with such affection.

Outside the window, you could see in the distance that your kingdom looked to be in such disarray. The once bright and lively fields looked dull and dim, and you could tell that nothing much seemed to grow in the lands. In fact, the Underworld seemed to be more lively than your home kingdom. Vaguely, you wondered why that was, and you did feel a pang of guilt at the sight. No doubt your people felt the consequences. Yet at the same time, you had never been happier in your life, and you wanted to chase that happiness. You were stuck between two impossible choices, and though your heart knew what it wanted, your head was conflicted. 

You had made your decision before you fell asleep that night, and the next morning you sent word to your mother that you would not return home. You stood at the window, lost in thought as you stared at your old home in the distance when Din came up beside you and slipped his hand in yours. Since you were closed off in his chambers, he had forgone his usual hood so you could find some comfort in his face.

“I’ve got you,” Din reassured you as he gave your hand a squeeze before you both fell into a silence again.

Demeter, of course, was not pleased with the news. She answered back with a warning message that promised war if you were not delivered by the end of the day. For the first time in your life, you were truly terrified and you couldn’t stop yourself from trembling as you read the note. But you couldn’t go back, not when you found love and finally felt like you belonged somewhere. And you didn’t think your mother would actually follow through with her threat.

“Whatever you decide, I’m here,” Din whispered in your ear. He could see the conflict in your eyes, and as much as it would pain him to lose you, he would support your decision. You both had your people to think about too, although it was a role neither of you wanted, you still couldn’t just escape that responsibility. 

“I want to stay,” your voice was barely audible as you looked at him from where he held you in his arms, and you felt him give you a squeeze in response.

Unfortunately, Demeter was true to her threat and in no time, Din’s little palace was set ablaze. Din sent orders for his people to flee and hide to try and minimize casualties, and the palace took the major brunt of the attack. It helped ease your guilt to know that your mother did not seem to want to harm innocents, but tears still filled your eyes and you and your husband fought side by side against the invaders in your halls.

You each had a sword in your hands and you and Din worked so well together in combat. The two of you seemed to move as one as you easily took down soldier after soldier. But just as the first wave of men fell, more seemed to emerge from the shadows. As they shot at you, Din jumped in front of you and used his armor as your shield before he grabbed your hand and led you down the hall.

But it was fruitless as more of Demeter’s men blocked the exit and shot at you again. This time, Din was not fast enough to jump in front of you and a spear grazed your side. You screamed in pain as he caught you and dragged you down another hall. The shouts from the enemy soldiers didn’t even register in his head, nor did the faint smell of flames.

Din took you into a secluded room and locked it, and from the window, he could see that the soldiers had lit his palace on fire. With you injured and guards at every exit, he knew you were both trapped and he couldn’t help the panic that ran through his veins. This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. He was supposed to protect you. You were supposed to live and be happy.

Tears filled your eyes as you smelled the smoke start to creep into the little room you were currently trapped in. You glanced up at Din and you could tell even behind his covered face that he tried to come up with a plan to get you out of here, although you knew it was useless.

“Din,” you called out to him in a hushed voice, which made him drop to his knees as he ripped his hood off.

He said your name as he kissed you and wrapped you in his arms as just let you cry. Tears of his own pooled up but he refused to let them fall. Even in these last moments, he was determined to be strong for you and protect you as best as he could. Heat rose in the room as the fire quickly started to creep through the door.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his arms, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Now we....”

Din held you close as he hushed you with your name, “It’s ok my love,” he whispered as he placed soft kisses to the top of your head as the flames engulfed you both, “This isn’t the end. And I will find you in the next life. I promise, through darkness and flame I will always find you. Nothing will keep you from me, my love.”

You woke up with a jump in the cold bunk that you found yourself in for the night. This was the fifth night in a row you had that same dream, and it only got clearer and clearer the more nights you saw it. If you didn’t have the threat of a bounty on your head, you would have spent more time trying to decipher what it meant, but you had bigger problems to worry about.

You had spent the past few months on the run throughout the galaxy as you hopped from planet to planet. It wasn’t what you had planned or wanted as next in line for the throne of your home planet, but since your parents decided to ally with the Empire, you couldn’t take it. You didn’t want to be associated with them, and you didn’t want to trap yourself in that life, so you ran. With nothing more than the clothes on your back, the weapons on your belt, and a necklace around your neck with a pendant of your favorite flower, you ran.

At least the planet you found yourself on now was a beautiful one. Naboo was everything you imagined it would be and more, and you only wished you could actually take the time to properly explore the lush forests and gardens and rivers. But you had to stay in the shadows as much as possible to avoid being caught. You had outrun and outgunned several bounty hunters who were after you, and you had to keep your wits about you if you were to stay free.

What you did not count on, however, was that a Mandalorian would come after you. Though you had never met one, you knew about their reputation, and this one in his shiny silver beskar definitely lived up to the legend. He cornered you before you even saw him and though you tried to put up a fight, he easily overpowered you. During your scuffle with him, he managed to graze your side where you had a large scar-like birthmark. You didn’t think much of it at first, but the spot throbbed and burned more than it should have for such a light hit that you took.

When he spoke for the first time, different words came from his mouth than his usual “bring you in warm” line, “Through darkness and flame I will always find you.” Under the helmet, Mando linked several times and was shocked at his own voice. Where did that come from? And why did you look so familiar though he had never met you before?

At that, you froze. Those were the exact last words that the man you were in love with in your dreams said. The Mandalorian took advantage of your state and easily dragged you back to his ship. For some reason, though, he chose not to cuff you and instead just held you by your arm and dragged you behind him. Both of you were silent as he led you away, both completely lost in thought and equally as confused at your encounter.

When he reached the Razor Crest, he was greeted by a small green child with big ears. The child looked up at you both from where he sat and cooed inquisivelty. You stared at him in silence for a few moments; he too felt so familiar to you, even though you had never seen his species before. For some reason, a name popped into your head as you and the little child stared at each other. But, for now you kept that to yourself. 

The Mandalorian scooped the child up in his arms before he tugged at your arm and led you up to the cockpit. Without a word, he sat you down in one of the empty seats before he sat in the pilot’s chair and took off. The child sat in the other chair in the cockpit and happily babbled at you as if he knew who you were. You sat there, unsure of what to do next or even what to think. You couldn’t see his face, and yet he felt so familiar to you. After a long, tense silence, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you say that to me?” you asked as you clutched your side where that scar still burned.

Din was silent. Truthfully he had no idea why those particular words came to him, but there was something about you that felt familiar. Not to mention you had a striking resemblance to the person who he saw in his dreams lately. He kept his body still as to not let on how conflicted and confused he felt underneath the armor.

You felt a familiar tug in your chest as you watched the Mandalorian in silence until you opened your mouth and spoke a single syllable, “Din…”

At that, he turned around and faced you. How did you know his name when no one else did? He stared at you from behind his visor when suddenly everything just fell into place. You must have realized it too as you both realized that it wasn’t dreams that filled your minds, but memories of a past life. Without a word, Din stood and wrapped you in his arms and you couldn’t help the tears that flowed as you collapsed in his arms.

“You found me,” you whispered into his chest. In this life, you and Din had just met, but your souls had been in love since before you were born. And the two of you fell into each other as if it was the most natural thing in the galaxy. From his seat, the little green child cooed and giggled as he watched you both embrace each other as if he could also sense what was going on.

“I found you,” he echoed.

The circumstances of your meeting were far different than before, and neither of you knew what would happen moving forward. But you both knew that as long as you were together, you could conquer anything. And this time, Din was determined that your story would not end in flames.

~

Notes: Thank you all SOOOO much for the love and support with this piece!! I hope you all enjoyed the ending and that it wasn’t too much angst there lol. I came up with that ending because it was the original concept I had for the story until I figured out that I finally wrote so i incorporated it as an ending. And it’s open enough that I could write it one day if I want to and if y’all want it ;) And for those who were on the Hades!Din only taglist, please let me know if you’d like to be moved to the Din or Pedro characters taglist!

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djaren x you #din djaren x reader

[along-came-atsushi]

The search for yourself – An analysis about Tachihara

Several characters in BSD express a wish for home and family. Most of them have either lost their families or were abandoned by them. Especially for those characters, the word ‘family’ expands the definition of being related by blood.

In BSD ‘family’ doesn’t mean people who are related to you, but people who accept you for who you really are and who truly care about you. Some examples would be the relationship between Fukuzawa and Ranpo, or Sigma and how he sees his customers.

Tachihara’s arc deals with the same theme and his search for who he really is.

[Beware: Spoilers for the whole Hunting Dogs Arc!]

His Past:

It’s been shown that Tachihara and his older brother are granted with a similar ability: The ability to create and/or manipulate metal. But Tachihara seemed to be less talented or able to control his ability than his brother, at least in the eyes of his family. When his brother died in the war they were outraged and sad about his death. At the same time, they openly told Tachihara to be the one that should have died in his stead, showing complete disregard for his existence:

Tachihara’s brother thinks positively about his family, given how he talks about them. He knows that they miss him and he himself wishes to return back home. Due to this it’s possible that he doesn’t even notice the difference in his family’s treatment between him and Tachihara, since he never addresses that problem anywhere. Tachihara on the other hand has to feel that no matter who he is and what he does, even ultimately if he’d die, they wouldn’t care for him.

He has been compared to his older brother his whole life and was never accepted as his own person, which leads to him in not understanding who he is and what he should do.

[Side note: I’m not a psychologist, but I read that parents that treat one child as the golden egg (Tachihara’s brother), while treating the other as the black sheep (Tachihara) is a trait found in narcissists. With this they try to have one person who admires them (Tachihara’s brother) and the other who fears them (Tachihara). Considering this and the way Tachihara has been treated by his family, it is highly possible that he is the victim of a narcissistic upbringing. It might be that one family member was a narcissist and with their treatment of Tachihara influenced the other family members to do the same. They joined the narcissist in their behaviour out of fear (acting as enablers), so that they themselves wouldn’t get viewed and treated by the narcissist and others the same way.]

.

Joining the Hunting Dogs:

After his brother’s death Tachihara ran away from his family and decided to live a life on the streets, trying to survive by stealing and doing other criminal activities, where he then was found by the Hunting Dogs and invited to join them:

The Hunting Dogs highest priority is to protect their country and its citizens, no matter what it takes. They have been shown to let people join them when they realize that those people have an intention to protect others, or are willing to self-sacrifice in order to protect something. (e.g. Jouno offering Kunikida to join after he saw that Kunikida wanted to protect the ADA, Fukuchi offering to train Akutagawa after he realized he was fighting for something.)

.

But the problem of the Hunting Dogs’ mentality is that they have a black and white view regarding “justice” and “crime”, or people they perceive as “good” and “evil”. They immediately hunt down the ADA without further investigation on their assertions (that they’re innocent and all was a set-up), even expressing joy about torture and killing, when a person is a “criminal” and therefore “evil” in their eyes.

The only way to get rid of your crime is to join them and in this way being useful to them. This results in people involuntarily joining them, because they have no other way, which has been the case with Tachihara. He was found being guilty, because he stole something from them, and then offered of being freed from his crime, but only if he joins them. Which means that he doesn’t join them on his own accord and is then pressured into their black and white morale.

[Side note: Tecchou seems to be the only one able to look on a more greyish view regarding “good” and “evil” people, as seen when he talks with the café owner and promises to not kill Lucy and the ADA. Fukuchi feels guilty for at least having to kill children in the past.]

.

The Hunting Dogs seem to stick together because they have to, less because they want to. Jouno is annoyed with Tecchou’s behaviour and Tecchou is annoyed by Jouno’s actions. Teruko dares Jouno not to read her heartbeat and with that tries to keep him from getting to know how she truly feels. She also seems to be afraid of Fukuchi for some reason, hence why she butters him up in an extreme and exaggerated way:

Ultimately, Fukuchi their own captain, is the one who plays them all and lies to them the most. They are bound together by their duty and have no real trust in each other.

Tachihara has been shown to feel somewhat uncomfortable when being with the Hunting Dogs and is sometimes weirded out by their behaviours. Even though he is the only one who has no quarrels with his colleagues and gets along with them pretty well, openly expressing concern when Teruko is wounded. But at the same time, he keeps his distance to them and addresses them formally or by their ranks.

While Tachirara talks with Yosano it can be understood that he didn’t join the Hunting Dogs out of his own conviction, but because that way they wouldn’t kill him for his crime. By joining and fighting for them he had a purpose in life and people who needed him because of his ability. He claims to have turned into someone who was “neither my older brother nor his opposite” and that “orders make me who I am.”

.

Infiltrating Port Mafia:

When Tachihara joins the Port Mafia as a spy and works for the Black Lizard, he is met with a different mentality regarding loyalty and justice. As explained above the Hunting Dogs have a black and white view regarding justice and crime, and people they consider to be good or evil. They express joy about killing and torturing, even though they are considered to be “the good guys”. While the Port Mafia is also known to be extremely cruel, they are not considered as “the good guys”. In other words, the Port Mafia are represented as the “villains”, and the Hunting Dogs are represented as the “heroes” in the eyes of the government.

Although it’s been mentioned that you shouldn’t get too close with anyone in the Port Mafia, forming a close bond with others is still possible. Something that differs the Black Lizard from the Hunting Dogs is that they stick together, e.g. when Higuchi saved Akutagawa, despite the fact that she could’ve died doing so alone, which is something that Tachihara was concerned about:

In the end, the Black Lizard stood behind Higuchi’s decision and followed her, saving Akutagawa in the process. They did so not solely because she was their superior, but because they have trust in her and respect her.

Tachihara playing the Double Agent is similar to Ango’s role during Dark Era. They both joined the “evil” side as a spy, but found people they got close with and care about. Both of them aren’t able to shake off their feelings regarding these people who became dear to them, despite their original orders and mission.

Characters in the BSD universe make friends with people who are on the opposite side or who are their enemies. They also tend to ally with their actual or former enemies, if it means to achieve the same goal.

Tachihara acts way more casual with his Black Lizard colleagues. He calls Hirotsu “gramps”, Higuchi “big sis” and Akutagawa “big bro”, suggesting that he sees them as his family, even though he may do so unconsciously. The Black Lizard have shown to truly care about Tachihara as a person as well, even without knowing about his ability.

They are relieved to know that he isn’t hurt or dead. Furthermore, Hirotsu highly compliments Tachihara and admires him for his mindset and actions. In return, Tachihara feels guilty for having to hurt Hirotsu and Gin, back then already not able to fully betray them.

.

Playing the Double Agent:

Later on, Tachihara’s true intentions for joining Port Mafia get revealed. He realizes that he used his brother as an excuse, and understands that in reality he was just trying to find his true self. Before that, he told himself that he joined only to get close to Yosano for revenge. During his whole childhood he had been compared to his brother, which left him with major self-doubts and a lack of self-identity. If he wasn’t as good, as useful, as heroic like his brother, he would be nothing. He would have no value:

Tachihara states several times that he “wanted to become someone”. Too insecure and afraid to identify with who he is, he simply decided to take the opposite way his brother took, and identified with the role he was given. First, he was a delinquent and simply “bad”. As a Hunting Dog he was then given the role of a military officer, whose job was to catch terrorists. When he got his order to infiltrate Port Mafia as a spy, he probably tried to identify with just that. But this given mission helped him to get away from his role as a Hunting Dog, and he found a place where he feels he truly belongs to.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that throughout this arc he gets portrayed in a mirror-like way:

It’s supposed to point out his search for himself, and which side he will choose in the end, now that he is learning to trust his own instincts. He slowly steps out of the shadow of his brother and accepts the person he is.

This is possible for him to do, because he has the support of the Black Lizard. During his time with the Hunting Dogs he simply followed orders and had no opinion of his own, but a purpose in life. He did this to please them and being accepted as someone worthy by them. When he rejoins the Hunting Dogs, but secretly still works as a spy in the Port Mafia, he realizes that his mindset already follows that of a Port Mafia member:

Since the Port Mafia has a more greyish view on crime and justice and have clashed with the ADA several times in the past, they turn out to be the ones to truly believe that the ADA were set-up by someone and are not terrorists.

Hirotsu and Gin both encourage and support Tachihara to form an opinion of his own, when he asks them about the ADA’s case, and not to simply believe the false facts:

This is furthermore emphasized by Mori as the Port Mafia’s boss discussing the ADA’s case with the Black Lizard and with this, stating his trust in them:

Due to the circumstance that Tachihara is treated as an equal among his Black Lizard peers and treated with trust, he’s starting to be able to question the accusations against the ADA and comes to the logical conclusion that something is wrong. This later leads him to take the search for the real mastermind into his own hands, instead of simply following orders.

It’s his own opinion and own choice what leads to the tearing of the page and its power, and with it the Decay of Angel’s plan:

This in itself is a very nice twist, because it was something neither Fyodor nor Dazai could know about or orchestrate. They both could only make people go so far and act in a certain way, but not tear through bonds people share with each other. Which gets confirmed when Dazai said that it’s the people on the battlefield making the world turn, and not those planning schemes.

In the end, it’s Mori as the Port Mafia’s boss to decide whether he keeps or kills Tachihara for his betrayal. It’s a rule to kill those who have betrayed the Port Mafia. But Mori already knew which side Tachihara will choose and which side he feels he belongs to, even before Tachihara himself did.

- - - - -

Last but not least, I want to thank the person who requested this meta from me. I hope you enjoyed reading this and that it was worth the wait. I had immense fun writing about characters who usually aren’t on my radar that much. Thank you very much!

[Edit: “he simply followed orders and had no opinion of his own, or a purpose in life” was changed to “he simply followed orders and had no opinion of his own, but a purpose in life“. Which was phrased wrong by me in the original post!]

#Michizou Tachihara #michizou tachihara bsd #Hunting Dogs #Port Mafia #hunting dogs bsd #bsd meta #Bungou Stray Dogs #BSD #my metas #Ougai Mori #Ryuro Hirotsu #Ouchi Fukuchi #Saigiku Jouno #Tecchou Suehiro #Teruko Okura #Ichiyo Higuchi

[chillwithaster]

SUMMARY: “Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

RELATIONSHIPS : Albedo/Kong | Aether (Genshin Impact) || Kong | Aether/Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact || Kong | Aether/Venti (Genshin Impact) || Kaedehara Kazuha/Kong | Aether

Please consider supporting me on Ko-fi because im kind of in a need for extra cash to help out my family during the pandemic ! every little bit helps and I'm giving out incentives for donations ! A dollar for a personalized reviewer and study guide or a genshin fanfiction of your choice !

AO3

“Well, this is most unfortunate.”

Venti could already feel the caffeine in his systems fuel his flight-or-fight response as he saw not one but two of his roommates standing outside the library.

He really needed a drink and pronto.

This was supposed to be his shining moment; the ballad to end all ballads; the righteous bard’s claim to a golden prince’s heart after their loveless rendezvous.

Venti had finally gotten the courage to ask Aether out to the Ludi Harpastum Dance – one of the most anticipated events in the entirety of their university. It was known as a Mondstadtian custom that he himself absolutely adored for its flowers, games, cuisines, and especially romantic atmosphere.

It was going to be perfect, really.

But no, Barbatos above and mighty, these – unsultry fiends decided to rain over such a wonderful parade.

“Agreed.” He shot a half-hearted glare at the white-haired male next to him, who had decided to dress-up from his usual plain tees and jeans.

Instead, Kazuha was wearing a half-buttoned black blazer (one that Venti swore was his, mind you) with black skinny jeans and a white polo-shirt. His hair was tied tighter than his usual lopsided ponytail, and Venti swore the other’s glasses had never been cleaner.

Now, though Venti was quite ecstatic to see his friend out of his usual horrendous fashion-style, he was visibly irked by the bouquet of Carnations in Kazuha’s arms.

“Move. You’re blocking the entrance.” The other two broke from their staring contest to find slitted amber hues.

For as long as Venti knew Xiao, even the Contemporary Music major knew his roommate looked good in a turtleneck.

And unfortunately for him, Xiao knew that too.  

Sporting a sleeveless dark green turtleneck and a black leather jacket fastened firmly around his waist, Xiao glared from behind the brown, large toy dragon plushie he was hugging.

“Uh excuse me.” Venti chirped, a hand to his hip to assert his dominance as their senior. “I was here first, mind you. Now buzz off.”

Xiao cocked a brow at him. “Don’t tell me you’re bringing in food to a library.”

The braided boy gawked at him before guiltily looking down at the two boxes of doughnuts in his hands. Boxed in pastel green and white, his warm, delicious, better than what his other roommates could ever bake in their entire life, homemade desserts stared back in shame at the thought of being left behind.

“Of course not!”

Kazuha and Xiao did not believe him.

“Of course…” The Inazuman began before moving past Venti. “Now please excuse me, I need to speak with-“

“Wo ho ho there, Kaedehara, where do you think you’re going?” Venti and Xiao moved to grip each of his wrists. If Kazuha had not known any better, he would think they were shackles by how deathly their holds were.

Venti gave him a light smile. As if he’s going to let this bleach-streaked, toothpaste-hogger fiend anywhere close to his date to the-

“Your date?” Xiao started.

Whoops, did he say that out loud?

Venti turned to his supposed ally as he released Kazuha’s hand. However, despite his fumble, the Cheshire grin on his lips still slashed through. “Yeah. My date to the Ludi Harpastum Dance.”

If looks could kill, Venti would be six feet under.

“Isn’t it quite bold of you to assume he’d want … you?” Kazuha began, scanning him up and down.

“I am offended!” Damn, the senior could feel ten years being subtracted from his time on earth. “And yes I do! Unlike both of you, I’ve known Aether the longest. From all the way ever since he moved here, so that makes me his best friend.”

The other two were not convinced.

“Yeah. Friend.” Venti wanted to hurl something hard into Xiao’s smirk. “And aren’t you more mature than that? For such an old man, you’d think you’d be past using the length of a relationship to measure its worth.”

“I agree with Xiao.” Kazuha hissed from behind, and Venti almost held a high grin at knowing why he was so defensive. Kazuha only had a month in his little pool of Aether interactions, so he knew he stood no chance if that was the criterion. “One’s closeness mustn’t be measured by how much – but rather how well – that time spent together was.”

Venti rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever.”

Honestly, he had not expected this. Especially not from these two.

Venti had always assumed that Xiao wanted nothing to do with relationships, especially since Xiao had made it quite crystal clear to anyone that had tried making moves on him that he was not interested. Same goes for Kazuha, who seemed to be more inclined to pour his focus into his studies in Literature rather than pursuing a love life.

But alas, here they are.

“Excuse me.” The three snap out of their heated staring contest to find a mop of kempt blond hair behind them.

Albedo stared at the three suspicious figures with a raised brow. As the junior librarian of the campus, it was his job to make sure students were not loitering outside to cause a mess.

“You’re keeping others from entering. If you have no business here, could you please go back to your dormitories.” His eyes shift to the pastries in Venti’s arms. “No food inside.”

Venti could just hear the snickers from behind him.

“Right, of course.” He started. “Sorry, Albedo.”

The three would have moved to allow the blond entrance had Kazuha not seen the striking figure painted diligently on the canvas in Albedo’s arm.

“Wait.” The albino held a hand to Albedo’s shoulder. “That painting…”

The bright crimson on Albedo’s cheeks was already a dead giveaway.

Venti and Xiao stopped in horror before peering over Albedo’s shoulder. Ah shit.

Drawn with the precision only the famed Kreideprinz could attain was a figure basked in golden locks. The figure’s face was turned away ever so slightly from the viewer, framed by light bangs as soft eyes gazed longingly into the sunset behind them. But even without seeing any other details, the two already knew who this was.

Suddenly, a plushie and a batch of doughnuts just felt sad.

Albedo turned to face the trio, shamefully hiding the portrait behind his figure.

“You like Aether?” Venti began.

“Yes, and what of it?” Albedo brought his jacket’s sleeve to his mouth, covering the bright blush he was harboring. “I don’t believe that I have any reason to be quite ashamed of such…and for you to be so scrutinizing…”

The three stared at him like kicked puppies.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

Albedo stopped and looked at the gifts in their hands.

“Ah.”

The weight of the situation just immediately dawned on the four.

“It seems the captor of ours hearts knows no restraint.” Kazuha sighed wistfully.

Xiao said nothing, but a nod was sufficient.

“…Are you all here to also ask him to the dance?” Albedo leaned on the door.

Even without an answer, he already knew.

“We can’t just go in there.” Xiao sighed. “It’ll end in a disaster, trust me.”

“But we cannot just let such an opportunity pass.” Venti saw how Kazuha was almost ready to barge in the doors for himself.

“Right, right, calm down there, he’s not going anywhere.” Venti offered.

Albedo moved to turn around, and the three watched him peer through the library’s wooden doors.

There seated amongst several stacks of books was their culprit. Aether had a textbook over his head and a whale pillow under his folded arms. With how slow his chest was rising, the four knew he was asleep.

“I should scold him next time. The library is not his bedroom.” Albedo smiled fondly at the figure, and the other three could only stare in defeat.

There was no way they could just barge in there and disturb his peace like that. Especially not when he looks so exhausted. Aether would just be overwhelmed by all their invitations, and the last thing they wanted was to be a burden to their beloved.

“So, now what?” Venti moved out of the way, glancing in confusion at the other three.

Kazuha and Xiao shared a look, but it was Albedo that first opened his mouth.

“We should take him to a date. A proper one. One from each of us. And one where we could help him alleviate his stress and show him a good time.”

The three stopped in consideration.

Albedo continued. “Think about it. He’s quite exhausted. If our feelings for him are genuine, then we should be willing to console him when he needs us the most. And only then – perhaps -  he can decide who he wishes to take to the dance.”

Venti had wished his first date with Aether were under different circumstances.

But at the same time…he isn’t against the thought of spoiling Aether silly. Even if it is shared sentimentally with three other people.

After a moment, it was Kazuha that gave an opinion. “But we should set ground rules. If the purpose of this date to help Aether unwind, it is imperative that none of us ask him to the dance.”

“Why?” Xiao crossed his arms. “Then wouldn’t that just render our dates pointless?”

“Not quite.” Kazuha offered a smile. “Aether’s happiness should come first.”

Xiao agreed in a heartbeat.

“Okay, let’s go with that.” Venti smiled at the prospect.

Yeah, Aether’s happiness is the topmost priority. And if none of them could provide that for Aether, then Venti thinks that none of them (himself included) are worthy of Aether’s kindness!

“But…” His thoughts blank. “Can I go last?”

“Why?” Albedo raised a brow.

“My paycheck doesn’t come until next Thursday.”

If his peers had one thing in common, it was how stupid they could make someone feel just by staring.

“I had to cut back time for my classes, okay? Sheesh!” Venti argued.

“Then that’s settled.” Albedo sighed.

“May I go first?” Kazuha offered, and though none of the other males seemed to object, Xiao was quick to reply with a sharp ‘why’. The albino bashfully chuckled. “There is a musical I have been meaning to bring him to that is in three days. It would be a shame to miss it.”

There were no objections.

Albedo raised an open palm, only to be met with several blank stares.

“A form of contract. May the best man win.”

The blonds lips were quirked upward slightly, and though apprehensive, Venti shook his hand.

Venti wasn’t the smartest person, but he wasn’t dumb either.

He may not know a lot when it comes to studies, but he knows one thing.

When these three wanted something, they would break the earth just to get their way.

“Indeed! May the winds guide you in your endeavor.”

But it also takes one to know one.

#genshin impact #fanfiction #albedo #albether #xiao #xiaoaether #aether #kazuha #kazuhaether #venti #aeventi

[ikeromantic]

Strength

An Ikesen Mitsuhide fanfiction, approx. 2000 words. This scene occurs toward the end of Ch. 12 in the romantic route.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: The Greatest Harm

Mitsuhide found Motonari in gambling house, as expected, but at the promise of violence to come, he was easy to persuade.

“We’re gonna march on tha shogun tonight, huh? ‘Bout time. My gun is gettin’ rusty with all tha waiting!” Motonari walked beside the kitsune warlord, almost bouncing. “I can send my men over to get tha guns and powder in tha mornin’. It’ll take that long ta get there and set a camp. Too bad we can’t just rush tha castle an’ get tha party started tonight!”

It was strange to think the man genuinely enjoyed fighting. For Mitsuhide, battles and killing were a means to an end, but he never sought them out. Still, it was good at least that the pirate was on his side. He’d rather point this avatar of destruction at a target than to be the target.

“Yer awful quiet, fox. Get in a tiff with tha woman?” Mouri chuckled. “Can’t imagine why.”

Mitsuhide gave the pirate a thin, sharp smile. He couldn’t let the man goad him, not tonight. Not with so much on the line. “My little mouse is fine. It is not easy for her to stay here while I go to fight.”

“Huh. Ya sure that’s all?”

The man was too damn perceptive. But they said madmen often were. Mitsuhide chose to ignore the comment.

Kennyo was staying in a widow’s home at the edge of the market. Of course, Mitsuhide was not supposed to know that - but the abbot knew he knew, and his arrival should not overly alarm the demon monk.

He sped them in that direction. The sooner the three were on their way, the less chance to slip and break this fragile alliance. It had to hold until Ashikaga’s head left his body behind. That was what Mitsuhide focused on. Not the last look he’d shared with his little one. He couldn’t think about the tears in her eyes, or the way his heart felt torn in two when he considered leaving her behind.

“What are you doing here, kitsune?” Kennyo’s deep growl came from a shadowed walkway in front of a closed shop.

“Looking for you.”

The abbot stepped out into the moon’s silver glow. His scar was a black crevasse across his face, a crack in the universe through which hell could be seen. His eyes burned with a dark and lightless hate. “You came to betray me?”

“He came ta tell ya we’re leavin’! Time ta make tha shogun pay fer ruinin’ my fun.” Motonari put his hands on his hips and leaned back on his heels. “Ya comin’ er did ya decide ta tuck yer tail and go back ta prayin’?”

Kennyo growled, a low rumbled in his chest like distant thunder. “Demons do not pray, nor do good men pray for the deaths of others. If it is time, then let us go. In silence.”

Mitsuhide raised an eyebrow. “Do you need time to pack?”

“I have all my worldly possessions on me now. And what I need most is always to hand.” He tapped the bottom of his staff, and the dark street rang with the sound.

“Then I will meet you both at the edge of town when the moon touches the mountain tops.” Mitsuhide gave them a nod.

“Goin’ ta smooth things over with tha lady? Ya know if ya need some help, I -”

“Will be silent because your voice grates my nerves as surely as a stone in my sandal.” Kennyo interrupted Mouri with a grimace.

Mitsuhide gave the monk a look of gratitude before hurrying off to the inn.

His little one was gathering the last of his things when he arrived. And seemed in much better spirits. She even smiled as he came in, though there was still an edge of sadness to it. “Everything is packed and ready to go.”

“Good. Mouri will be sending people for the guns tomorrow. Be ready.”

“I will.”

There were a thousand things he wanted to say in that moment. Promises he couldn’t keep. Words of love that would only make it hurt more to be apart. Mitsuhide was good at speaking - when he was playing a role. When it was the truth of his own heart, he found it hard to put the feelings into words. He was no poet. Not like Yoshimoto.

His eyes went to the floor, where the letter had fallen. It wasn’t there anymore, but he spotted the creased paper soon enough. Sitting on the desk, open. Was that the reason for her mood? Had Yoshimoto’s poetries cheered her where he could only seem to make her cry?

In silence, he picked up his things and together, they went to saddle the horses. They, at least, seemed happy to finally be traveling somewhere. Being cooped up in the stables was hard on war-trained mounts.

“Can I come with you? As far as the meeting point?”

Mitsuhide nodded. “Of course.” He couldn’t help the bitter twist to his smile. “I wouldn’t deny you that.”

Neither of them said much on the ride through town. The air felt heavy, and it seemed wrong to push sound out into that darkness. Though unspoken words churned in his chest.

The chatelaine looked lost in thought as she rode. Her posture in the saddle, relaxed. Her eyes forward, looking at some distant point and trusting her mount to navigate the empty streets. It made Mitsuhide proud to see how far she’d come. How much she learned. He held back the compliment though, worried what other words would escape with it, should he speak.

Soon enough, they passed the city gates. The last of the dim torchlight fell behind them, and ahead lay only rolling fields and an endless expanse of stars. Mitsuhide felt lost in it. He had messed this up, as he’d known he would. Giving his love only tears. If Yoshimoto could make her smile with only words on a paper . . . perhaps . . .

The dark figures of Motonari and Kennyo took shape in the darkness ahead. Their horses stood in the field nearby, heads down and grazing. Mitsuhide stopped as they got close enough to make out their allies’ faces. He turned to his little one, feeling brittle like rusted iron. “This is as far as you may come. Turn your horse and go back to the inn.”

Not the parting words of a lover but right now he couldn’t trust himself to be himself. He needed this mask. The kitsune warlord, heartless and cold. It would hold him together. It had to.

“I will.”

Motonari scoffed. “Is that all yer gonna say? Ya know, in tha west they kiss to say goodbye. Ya should try it! Maybe slip her some tongue -”

“Keep your vulgar thoughts to yourself,” Kennyo rumbled. “Your bellowing is disturbing the horses.” He threw the pirate an icy glare. Without looking away from Mouri, he said, “Mitsuhide - we will go on ahead. Do not keep us waiting.” Then he grabbed Mouri’s arm and pulled him toward their mounts.

Mitsuhide didn’t know if he should be grateful or resentful of the courtesy. Now he was alone with his love, and his heart trembled near to shattering. Conflicting emotions tore at him. Jealousy and worry, love, anxiety, doubt . . . he couldn’t let any of it show.

His little one dismounted, beckoning for him to follow. Reluctantly, he did.

Her face was angelic in the starlight. Like a spirit. The silver moon shone in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Mitsuhide, I want you to have this.”

It was hard to look away from her beauty to see what she held. When he did, his eyes widened. “This -!” The bellflower hairpin. He felt stunned, frozen in place. What did this mean? Why? His gaze lifted to meet hers.

She reached for him with her empty hand and touched his cheek. “This is my prayer for victory. Kyubei told me that’s what it symbolizes.” She pressed it into his hand. “I want you to keep it with you while we are apart. Don’t lose it though! It’s my only precious bellflower.”

Her smile was radiant.

“You are a wonder.” Mitsuhide could not stop a tear escaping his eyes, but she wiped it away with her thumb before it could fall. “I thought . . . I thought you would wish me goodbye in tears. Or -” Or tell him she’d had enough of this life, that the shadows around him were more than she could take.

His little mouse nodded. “I might have but I came to a few decisions about myself. Most importantly, that I’m tough enough to be by your side no matter what.”

He blinked. “You . . . decided that as you packed? And . . . read that letter?”

“Yep.” She laughed softly. “It’s funny, actually. I was beginning to doubt myself. I am not the kind of strong you are. I am not a warrior. But I am strong like me - you taught me that. To trust myself and my ideals.”

Her eyes were so warm, and Mitsuhide felt himself leaning into her touch.

“That letter from Yoshimoto reminded me of the things I’ve done. And all the lessons you taught me so that I could survive in this world. We make each other stronger.”

Mitsuhide put his arms around her, still holding the bellflower hairpin tightly. “All of that, you decided in such a short time, hm?”

She laughed again and nuzzled his chest. “It was already inside me, I’d just forgotten how to use it. And now I can access that strength when I need to.”

He stroked her hair, enjoying the closeness. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest, but the anxiety was fading. Leaving behind it only his love for her and the promise of a life together. How had he lost sight of that, even for a moment?

“I want you to remember your strength too. You don’t need to burn yourself out to protect me. Use your strength to fight your hardest. I will be here, waiting for you. Safe.”

Mitsuhide whispered her name into the night, full of his love for her. His heart in each syllable.

“Make sure you come back to me, Mitsuhide.”

His lips curled up in a genuine smile. “You surprised me again, little one.” He pulled away enough to see her expression. “Instead of tears, my weepy little mouse wishes me good fortune. With a smile like the sun.”

“Hey! Did you call me weepy?” Her laughter rang out, fierce and full of joy. “I’ll make you weep for that!”

“Mmm, and it is that fiery tongue and heart that never breaks that made me fall in love with you. Thank you for reminding me.” He tucked the bellflower beneath his armor to keep it safe. Then lifted her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her wrist, feeling the beat of her heart through her warm skin. It matched the rhythm of his own.

She shivered at the touch and her cheeks pinked. A reaction he loved to see. It made him wish for homecoming sooner rather than later.

“You’ve shown me resolve, beloved. And as your future husband, I must show you I can do at least as much. I will return to you.”

His little one studied his face for a moment, her eyes bright. “I love you.”

“You should save those words for my return.” He felt his grin widen but he couldn’t help himself. “Because when I do, I will give you cause to say them so much that you grow tired of repeating yourself.”

He pulled her close once more, wanting to feel her warmth a little longer. Only knowing that Kennyo and Motonari stood a little ways off stopped him from doing more than holding her. “I promise you,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear, “when I return, I will tease you mercilessly. I will tease you until all you can think of is my touch. And I still won’t stop . . .”

She took a deep, trembling breath. “I am looking forward to it. And you know . . . you aren’t the only one that can tease!” Then she stepped back. “I should let you leave. Good luck, Mitsuhide.”

His smile held his gratitude and love. With one last wave, he watched her mount her horse and turn back for the city gates.

“That’s one wide grin yer wearin’” Motonari chuckled as he approached. “Ya slipped her some -”

Kennyo’s growl cut him off before he could finish. “Speed and silence.”

“Yes, let’s not keep the shogun waiting,” Mitsuhide agreed. He should have been tired, but he felt full of vigor. This would not be easy - but he knew they could do it.

The three men mounted and rode into the night.

Next: Siege

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #ikemen mitsuhide #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #light angst

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Don’t Pray (aka Vader is the menace he was always meant to be during ‘the Purge’ oneshot)

“I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me,” the padawan whispered quietly; eyes squeezed tightly shut to block out the world.

The only sound was that of his own hammering heartbeats, hands clasped in a desperate prayer as he kept his head low; curled up in a tight ball with his legs to his chest in the cramped stowaway space behind the ventilator of his former master’s beat up space vessel. When he had docked on Illuna, he had expected the possible company of fellow runaway Jedi apprentices. Instead, he found the embrace of the Dark Side.

The presence that had greeted him so graciously was still palpable, still drawing ever nearer. The dark it brought with it like a sickness, like a plague shutting out any connections to the untainted living Force. Consuming its flame. The light flickering before the tendrils of darkness snuffed it out; successfully smothering it. Swallowing hard; a faint noise penetrated through the steady pulse ringing in his ears.

Artificial, mechanical. Periodic breathing. In, and out.

He felt like a caged animal; trapped as bait; prey left out for the predator approaching. He had been fooled, and now he was paying with his life. Naive, in his desire for company - his longing to be alone no more. He crept further back against the durasteel confines, his side pressed to the outer wall. As far from the tiny hatch to the hidden crawlspace as possible, making himself impossibly small.

Once again, he hoped to reach out with his mind; for help or guidance, he wouldn’t know. Yet, the only thing he could sense as a potential response was the thrumming of that inescapable darkness; an empty void of agony, threatening to grab hold of him and drag him asunder if he failed to stay alert. He toed the line, standing just at the threshold. Just shy of allowing the ill intent to devour him.

The padawan had been under the care of the Jedi Order on Coruscant for as long as he could remember, had been a promising padawan as his master had proudly proclaimed many times. It seemed like a lifetime ago. As if the happy days were but the fading remnants of a fever dream, as if the Empire and its rule was all there had ever been. 

The Empire, and Vader.

Every Jedi he knew was either dead, captured, or lost. Missing without a trace. In hiding, some said. Perished, others whispered. At the hand of Vader, was the common consensus among fast travelling underground sources. The padawan had tried his best to hide, to keep out of sight, to cover up his tracks. For three years, he had been successful. For three years, he had managed to avoid the Jedi killer, and the relentlessness with which the Empire seemed to hunt down and destroy Force users. Align, disappear or die.

He was running out of time.

“I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me,” he mouthed wordlessly, desperate to mask his hitching breaths and half sobs.

It was freezing.

He remembered the ice cold desert nights, accompanying his master on a week long endeavour hunting for a ancient Jedi artifact. Where had it taken them? Tatooine? Jakku? Geonosis? He couldn’t remember, every desert planet looked the same. Only endless sand dunes, and blistering blood red sun come day. Only starry deep blue skies, and cold nipping at any exposed skin come night.

He’d never forgotten the numbness of his fingers, his breath coming in heated puffs of condensation. He’d never forgotten the uncomfortable prickle of his skin, the chill of his weary, aching bones. How it seeped so deep into his core, that not even the scalding heat of first sunlight promising fire and brimstone could dissolve it.

The breathing.

Steady.

The predator toying with its prey, like a rancor enjoying the chase and dragging it out before pouncing and going in for the kill. Vader must know where he was hidden, must be able to sense his tangible Force signature. His terror.

The paralyzing feeling of torment Vader’s aura radiated rolled off of the man in thick waves; like the tide coming in, like the eye of the storm. Without mercy, without pardon. A force of nature, uncontrollable, unstoppable. Hands trembling, the padawan pressed them to his lips as he continued to mouth the same payer like mantra.

It would be in vain, yet it was the only link that remained to his master. The woman who had been gunned down in cold blood by her own troops, sending him off in a solitary escape pod towards fates unknown before sacrificing herself. She’d taught him the prayer, something to cling to in times of need. In times of fear, of hopelessness. He remembered her gentle brown eyes, her warm smile.

Footsteps.

Heavy, booted footfalls against the durasteel floor. Stalking in a slow, deliberate manner. The temperature seemed to drop for each one, as death traveled on swift wings ever faster.

The padawan could feel the stinging heat of salty tears behind his eyes, could feel them welling up at the corners of his eyes. Could taste their salt, smell his own fear. Shame accompanied the terror. His master’s act of self sacrifice had landed him stranded on an outer rim scrap station, only vaguely directed towards hostile but life sustaining planets where more Jedi may be in hiding; aided by a good natured sympathizer. Planets he’d never even heard of. People whose faces he would never know again, whose faces he had already forfotten as they blurred together. He had found none, no one to help him. No one to guide him, no one to come to his rescue now. He was alone, and he would die alone.

Only then did it truly sink in that he wasn’t going to leave this ship alive.

“I can sense you, child.”

A deep, booming voice.

Filtered through a vocabulator, it came off eerie and uncanny. Devoid of any scrap of human emotion; monotone and matter of fact. Loud, direct, and frank. Short and concise. How many others like him had met such a fate, the padawan wondered. How many others had perished at the hand of Vader? How many more would there be? Were there even any Force wielders left in the Galaxy for Vader to sniff out and execute? The age of the order was gone, why keep exterminating the few stragglers left behind? They could do no harm, make little noise.

“I can sense your fear,” the voice added after a moment's pause; and despite the same inhuman diction, there seemed to be something spiteful to the words.

The padawan had never known evil.

He and his master had taken down wild beasts, droid armies; they had even faced off against a stray misled Dark Side user. The droids had been man made machines, little more than gun fodder. The animals had followed only their hunger and ravenous nature, desperate to eat or be eaten. Lylacs, loth-wolves, rancors engineered to hunt. The Dark Side user had been conflicted, led astray by corrupt practices, as his master had put it.

This was different.

Vader appeared to be content, in a sense. No, perhaps not quite content as there seemed to be little joy or excitement to find in his Force signature. It was empty, a nothingness. Like a hole in the fabric of the Force itself, like someone had cut a piece out of a tapestry where only cold, and suffering could prevail.

Suffering; so unadulterated that it made the padawan’s body flinch and twitch with its shared torment. Vader was like a phantom, like a wraith; like a dead man walking. His aura revealed that he had nothing to lose, nothing to gain. No compassion, no forgiveness. No use in pleading, no use in begging.

A tear escaped the corner of the padawan’s eyes, rolling red hot down his stricken, pale face. The suffocating feeling of Vader’s presence sucked the air out of his lungs, making him feel lightheaded and short of breath. The steps slowed, calculating their path meticulously until they came to a sudden halt mere inches away from the trapdoor and its hatch. There came a protesting creaking of durasteel, of metal giving way to an unseen, powerful hand. A metallic shriek, a cringe and a whine as it began to bend to Vader’s will. The first beams of bright, fluorescent lights spilled in flickering patterns through the cracks torn open before the trapdoor was unceremoniously ripped off its hinges and flung across the cramped space of the vessel’s interior.

The padawan daredn’t open his eyes - the mechanic breathing was no longer muffled by  a thin wall of durasteel; the thick aura of the Dark Side crashing over him like, biting and stinging at his nerve endings. Drowning him, as they left him overwhelmed, vulnerable and pitiful.

It hurt to breathe; hurt to think, his stomach churning and his throat constricting no matter how much air he attempted to gulp down. His lips moved on autopilot, still wording that same pathetic prayer but his voice had long since been silenced. There was no one to save him. No one to take his hand.

The tendrils of a twisted, warped, subjugated shadow of the Force the padawan knew as his ally burnt as they pierced his skin; invisible but unyielding. Like a million icy daggers, like sharp needles or broken glass. Another warm tear fell from his eyes, this time leaving a searing trail in its wake against his frost bitten cheek. He trembled when it dripped off his chin.

“You cannot hide from me, child. Your path ends here. There is no escape,” said the voice, so void of sympathy and remorse that it seemed inconceivable.

Were it not for the Dark Side, and the tainted, perverted use of the Force that Vader was guilty of; the padawan would have thought him to be fully inhuman. Rumours said Vader was once a man, now cloaked in a tar black suit of armour. Some said Vader was the creation of a malicious Sith Lord, calling upon mystical powers to build the perfect, loyal servant. Others said Vader may have once been a Jedi; a Jedi who’d fallen to the Dark Side in pursuit of power, and riches. How could a figure whose very existence seemed to serve as a harbringer of death ever have been live? How could a presence such as Vader’s ever have belonged to anything but a ruthless monster?

The padawan’s master had called many animals and creatures ‘monsters’. Some would deem Vader a savage beast, desperate for blood to quench his own thirst while they cowered in fear at the very whisper of his name. As if acknowledging his existence might conjure him. Yet, an animal would only follow its own basal needs and instincts; like the krayt dragons, or the lylaks, or the rancors. They were not monsters, they were simply part of the natural order. Predators necessary in a symbiotic cycle with their prey. Likening them to Vader was no fair comparison. Vader was sentient, aware of his actions, and committing heinous acts nonetheless. Purposefully, knowingly.

Animals were no monsters.

Vader was.

His eyes were still stubbornly clenched shut, perhaps seized up with terror as the frightened padawan cowered.

Still, they began to twitch little by little, opening as if that unseen hand guided by the Force was prying them open bit by bit. As if they were being peeled back, his resolute power of will beginning to wane. The padawan desperately attempted to keep them closed, to fight back. It was futile, as his watery eyes were uncovered against his will. Unable to blink, unable to stay blissfully unaware of the exterior that accompanied the foreboding phantom. His executioner. 

In a snapping, jerking motion - the boy’s head was rapidly twisted sideways by the same invisible pull. The hold on his lithe, malnourished body was so strong, that the motion tossed him like a rag-doll as he was yanked out of the tiny crawlspace. He cried out in pain when his knee was torn open, by the jutting edges of one of the ventilator system’s metallic fans. Warm blood wet through the fabric of the padawan’s pants, the tang of iron stinging in his nostrils. Nauseating.

Tumbling haphazardly across the narrow walkway, the padawan whimpered as he momentum had him rolling around until he slammed forcibly into nearest cabinet. A nightmare come to life, he wrapped his uncooperative arms around himself to shield himself from the bitter cold, from the hatred, the rage, the ire. 

It did him no favours, the sharp pinpoints and tendrils of the Dark Side burrowing into his chest like the fangs of a loth-wolf. Despite the struggle, the padawan found himself crawling to his knees, ignoring the searing pain of his gashed knee as if compelled to do so by some sort of beckon, taunting and mesmerizing in its lethal promise. For a brief moment, he thought he could hear his master’s familiar voice calling him.

The abyss lay ahead.

“I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me,” the padawan croaked in a broken act of defiance.

“Your prayers are of no use.”

Then, he raised his head and his glassy eyes were set upon Vader. Frozen in place, as if fixed by the phantom’s own stare concealed behind the lenses of a black mask. Death in the flesh. Unkind. Unjust. Promising pain everlasting, overpowering.

Overwhelming, unbearable.

Inevitable.

#darth vader #vader #lord vader #anakin skywalker #anakin #skywalker #star wars #sw #jedi #jedi purge #order 66 #padawan #oc #fanfic #fic #fan fic #fanfiction #fics #my fic #my fics #canon compliant #mask of death chapter retooled #cause vader is terrifying #it's his thing

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.24}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"Too many people have been insinuating things like that recently. You know… about you and me. Us."

"Ah." Snape's voice dropped down an octave, and the deep frown on his falling features was suddenly accompanied by a tinge of rising bitterness in his tone, a shadow of sincere sadness in his eyes. Then it was all apathy again before the fleeting emotions could be grasped. "I can see why that thought would be repelling to you."

And for once, encouraged by the ghosts of emotions she had seen on his face, Robin let her heart speak instead of her mind. "Actually, it just makes me wish quite desperately that it was true."

Snape froze in his every movement in an instant, breaking the rhythm of their saunter for but a single second before moving on just like before, without as much as a word in question or comment. Robin's heart however was moving all the more, it pounded furiously against her ribcage as if trying to escape from the prison of her flesh. Oh bloody hell, what had she done?! There was no use in denying it now. He was brilliant; of course he knew exactly what she had meant by that statement. But why, WHY on earth wasn't he saying anything in return? The wildfire was burning her up with every second they walked along the shore side by side, and it was killing her softly with every one of those seconds they spent in silence. Oh no no no… she had absolutely ruined everything, she had-...

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when his fingers brushed against the back of her hand, oh so gently while yet causing liquid electricity to surge up her arm, and when she moved her hand closer to his in return, he wrapped his fingers around hers entirely and intertwined them at long last. In the matter of only a second, Robin's every word and thought came to a sudden and deafening stillstand, and her ability to function was gone with a start. Without word, without thought, they just kept walking on in calm silence, hand in hand as tightly as comfort allowed. Hours or minutes or seconds passed, and the world was gone beyond them. Only when they were on their way back to the castle, thought and reason slowly became a possibility once more.

And with the ability of thought, a million questions tumbled into Robin's mind at once, a subtle but lingering rush of panic. But instead of getting lost in what she didn't know now, she found strength in the comfort of his lingering touch to focus on what she did know for once.

One. She had directly and undoubtedly admitted that she wanted them to be more than they were now. That she wanted them to be a them in the first place, together, in every sense of the word.

Two. He had thought that the idea of being with him would be repelling to her, and then he had been sincerely surprised to hear that the very opposite was the case. The thought that she might be opposed to the idea of them together had brought a bitter sadness to his face, while now however he looked rather torn between excitement, nervousness, and the wish to cover up for either.

Three. He had taken her hand, in a way that neither of them had ever done before. Without a reason to keep holding on other than the simple pleasure of it, fingers woven together instead of a mere handshake kind of thing. Intimate, almost. Emotionally connotated without a doubt.

And lastly, four. She had basically just made the biggest emotional declaration in the history of their relationship, and he was still here. Entering the courtyard by her side, with no present intention of going anywhere else. He wasn't running from whatever was happening. Not from her, not again.

So, what did any and all of this mean? Did he know what it meant, what was happening? She might not be able to answer the questions that spooked around her head, but one thing she could do for sure. Opening her eyes at long last. And what she saw now, had to see with her eyes wide open, was the last piece falling into place for the wildfire to consume her entirely. And she saw that she wasn't the only one burning.

They obviously just had taken a turn in their relationship, and while they still stood at the beginning of what that meant, they were on this path together now. Burning, together. Upon that realization, Robin thought her heart stopped beating once and for all, while adrenaline like sweet poison threatened to make her entire body quiver. This was a beginning, not and end. She couldn't remember ever feeling something quite as intense as this, and it was only just beginning indeed. The return of her heartbeat brought the promise of more.

They were back in the arcades when Robin took notice of the world beyond her mind again, stopping in front of the very arch they had shared in the year prior. Without a second of hesitation they both took their established places next to each other, sitting comfortably squeezed together, but more than gladly so on her end at least. Still, the comfortable silence that surrounded them lingered on for another moment, a moment where Robin simply let the overwhelming excitement consume her while yet trying to keep the nervousness at bay.

She hadn't terribly misunderstood all of this now, had she? Snape wasn't delusional enough to misunderstand her words, and he wasn't cruel enough to play with her emotions. He wouldn't do that. Not with her. She took a deep breath, and inevitably noticed that it trembled as much as her entire body wanted to. Good gods, were emotions always this complicated? No, this wasn't complicated at all, she was certain that she had understood matters correctly. And foremost she was certain that she understood Snape. He wouldn't still be here if he didn't feel even remotely the same as her. Not like this.

"Did you actually mean what you said?" His quiet question suddenly broke the silence, and set loose another explosion of pure energy in Robin's heart with its smooth depth alone. "About wishing that you and I…" He didn't speak on despite the calmness of the statement, and rather looked ahead into the night instead of turning to look at Robin. But at the same time, he kept holding onto her hand more tightly than ever. As if he was doubting reality as much as she had been, reluctant to believe that suddenly this was real, that they were really here at long last.

"Obviously." Robin replied with a warm smile, and a certainty came with her words that washed away even more of her fears. "You know me far better than to doubt that."

"I do indeed." He said quietly, while his gaze however stayed forcefully fixed on the distant hills. "But I never allowed myself to even imagine that you would want this with someone like me. Would want more… with me."

His words snapped something in Robin's mind, bringing forth the irresistible urge to act, to prove to him right in this instant just how much she wanted this indeed. For once in an eternity, she didn't suppress the impulsiveness of her roaring emotions, but simply surrendered to them with open arms. In the matter of a second she was sitting up on her knees, her face evenly leveled with his own, which only left them so close together that he couldn't avoid her anymore. He, too, finally needed to open his eyes to the truth in front of him. He needed to look, and she would make him see.

"I want everything with you, Severus. Everything about you." Her simple words of unadorned yet utmost truth, his name on her lips were what finally made him succumb to her will, and he looked at her, looked at her in that way that made the space between them shrink and the air catch in her throat. And still, Robin's fingers moved to brush the wisps of black that had caught in his lashes back to where they belonged, and she smiled when he, too, for once, unlearned to breathe. "When I look at you, I see my own everything."

Her hand lingered where it was, her fingertips tracing his delicate skin on their own account, but her eyes were held captive by his own that seemed so impossibly dark from up close, from so terribly close… His breath fanned gently against her skin, hot and unsteady quite like her own, and Robin's eyes fluttered shut when she finally couldn't bear the tension anymore that drew them together like a moth to the flame. Her own heartbeat in her ears was drowning out any and every sound, every thought that wasn't him, wasn't now, and she counted them on and on, in one, two, three… then she leaned in through the minimal space remaining and gently pressed her lips to his.

She felt him freezing under her touch almost instantly, not moving, not breathing, but neither pulling back. So she stayed as she was, in a crazy ambivalence of violent adrenaline forcing her spirits to heights beyond her body, and an uproaring voice in her head that screamed 'what the hell am I doing'. He wasn't kissing her back, he wasn't breathing, he wasn't doing anything to be exact. And as sweet as the adrenaline's poisoning of her senses was, it was the voice in her head that finally made her pull back, made her open her eyes to find his still closed. Her breathing hitched, and a shudder ran down her back. Oh god oh god oh god… He opened his eyes at the sound, still so close, still looking at her with this unfathomable depth. Oh bloody hell… she didn't know what she was doing, and he probably could tell. But when his warm hand settled on the curve of her waist, fingers digging into her hip as he pulled her closer, her breath hitched once more, every heartbeat an allconsuming thunder, and a broken second later her lips were back on his without the previous reluctance. Without internal monologues, and this time, he did everything but freeze in return.

Robin's body knew perfectly well what to do now where her mind for once did not, and when their lips started moving to only the laws of sheer overwhelming ecstasy, every last thought of concern shattered in redundancy anyway. This was absolutely intoxicating; like drowning in an ocean of all there was to life.

They did let go of each other's hand now, anything to get closer, to be closer, and when his arm wrapped around her waist and hers around his shoulders, Robin was sure to feel every single cell in her body coming alive, to feel absolutely everything at once. His sweet lips, so soft, moving in such growing fire with her own, hot breath on her skin, racing hearts and firm grasps turned desperate clawing. A distant echo of the fruit punch served at the ball, and something far more heady in taste. Silent gasps and moans that ran as a liquid heat right to her core, stoked by the impossible warmth of his body pressed flush against her own. Electric tingles at the bottom of her spine. After years of dreaming about this moment, Robin found that nothing could compare to reality for once. It truly was a pastime for eternity.

Perhaps that is why it felt like no time had passed at all when the low chime of the clock that towered high above the courtyard broke them apart, when it rang not twelve, but half past. The sound registered somewhere in the back of Robin's mind at first, barely even reaching her consciousness, but it kept nagging at her to put sense to it, and after a few slow seconds there was a small voice rising in her mind again at last. She was supposed to meet her friends in the entrance hall at half past, to… oh dear, it wasn't just a new year by now, it was a new decade as well! They had missed the turn of years because… oh bloody hell, he was actually kissing her back! And with no less passion than she brought in herself! There was no room for any possible misunderstanding left now… He did feel exactly the same as her.

Robin broke the kiss with a small gasp, pulling back only far enough to rest her forehead against his while her mind slowly cleared of the blissful haze. Her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath, they both were, but the more the reality of the situation sunk in, the more she couldn't help grinning like a fool. She really was just that, a fool so hopelessly in love that she didn't even bother justifying it to herself. The walls that had hidden her deepest emotions from him were shattered, vanished, gone… she didn't need to hide anymore, and she could have cried in joy over that fact alone. But she didn't. She smiled, brighter than the moon and stars, because it was the only thing she found herself capable of.

"Happy new year…" She finally got out quite breathlessly, laughing almost at the same time at her ridiculous remark, and his hold on her tightened in return. If possible at all, it made her smile even brighter.

"'Happy' is a bit of an understatement, wouldn't you say?" He asked in return, more hoarsely than should be allowed, but undoubtedly with the sound of a smile that finally made Robin lean back enough to look at him. And here he was, smiling indeed, looking a little helpless in the unusual extent of the extraordinary gesture and showing it more in his eyes than the rest of his face, but it was by far enough to make her heart soar and bring forth the urge to continue right where the clock's chime had interrupted. But they were still in a public place out here, prone to be seen now that the ball was over and the guests were leaving, and she was also later by the second to meet her friends. As tempting as it was, this wasn't the time or place to let herself be drawn into their own world of raw emotion again.

"Happy certainly is a place for us to start." She said instead, with a smile that didn't even try to hide any of the emotions running through her in a whirlwind. "That is if you want-..."

"Yes."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" She protested in a laugh, and the bright spark that flamed up somewhere deep in the blackness of his eyes in return made it even more difficult to not just forsake the outside world again. It would be such a gain… but a short-lived one, if they got kicked out of Hogwarts in return.

"Does it matter when you will let me have everything with you anyway?" He replied easily, in that tone that made the statement sound as if it was the most obvious truth the world had to offer, and yet in a way that turned Robin's insides into a mess of liquid heat and tingles. "And I want everything about you indeed. In every way possible."

"I'm all yours for the taking. And keeping." She smiled with a small shrug, while her heart was dancing in joy and her head screamed in excitement over the reality of this insanity. "But I need you to be mine in return, you know… Entirely, all of you."

"I can live with that." His easy tone was accompanied by a not-smirk now, but when Robin couldn't help grinning in return, it quickly grew into a real and honest smile that made her heart skip a beat. Not only because it was a true joy to behold, but because she knew that she was the reason for it. She was making him happy enough to smile, for heaven's sake! There weren't enough words in existence to say as much as that single smile did by itself.

Robin didn't exactly know how it happened, but her lips were back on his not even a second later, bringing forth a new crashing wave of overwhelming joy to roll over her and let her mind shatter at the cutting edge of reality once more. Her hand moved to his neck on its own account, gentle fingers entangling in the rivers of black while her whole body curved into his as far as their awkward positions allowed. The stinging pain in her knees, the cold of winter, the aching of her lungs that were desperate for air… it ceased to exist in the heat of the moment. As did time and space, until the creaking of the front gates startled both Robin and Snape out of it and effectively caused either to fall back into the columns behind them, a good distance apart. Mere seconds later, guests came walking out into the courtyard and into their view.

"Bloody hell, that was…" Robin breathed, but she didn't know how to end the sentence appropriately without doing the matter injustice.

"Entirely intoxicating?" Snape offered after a second of silence, while making a vain attempt to straighten out his robes and hair. It still looked messy, but luckily more like a wind-caused mess than a Robin-caused one.

"Yes. That. And more." She sighed, and finally started scrambling out of the arch and onto her aching legs that were wobbly for more than one reason now. Five past twelve thirty already. "Oh fuck… I'm late."

"For?" He raised an eyebrow at her while following the impulse and getting back onto his feet as well, even though a lot more gracefully.

"Meeting my friends in the entrance hall. Stupidly enough, I even was the one who suggested that we should wish each other a happy new year before they head back to the common rooms." She groaned under her breath, then went to straighten her dress as well even though it was a rather hopeless endeavour. "But I guess with the guests leaving one by one now, it wouldn't be a good idea for us to stay out here anyway. Something tells me that when Dumbledore said we are to keep our ties behind closed doors, he had rather envisioned ties of the recent kind anyway."

"He likely did; the old man is a meddlesome fool more than any other. But it would indeed be in both our best interest if we weren't caught in such a compromising situation." Snape replied, but still placed a warm hand on the small of her back as they started making their way through the arcades and towards the entrance hall. "For now, no one can know of what is between you and me."

"Obviously not. They never could in the past either." Robin scoffed, but only because it was a thing that had been settled and agreed on from the start. "I had and have no intention to discuss my private matters with anyone but you, and seeing as I have never done so before either, it really is nothing new to me."

"I was more concerned about myself, to be honest. Resisting you seems rather impossible for me at this point, now that I know just how utterly and divinely addictive you are."

His words brought another grin to Robin's entire face. She enjoyed being as strong a temptation for him as he was for her, that was for sure. Having this kind of power over him was nothing short of a thrill of heights previously unknown; it sent an eerie wave of raw desire through her entire being in an instant.

"Good thing we are usually perched in the darkness of the dungeons entirely by ourselves, huh?" She smirked up at him with a good dash of tease in her eyes, and she could tell immediately that her words were having much the same effect on him as his had had on her. Oh geez, even teasing was so much better now… so much more.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are truly insufferable?" He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and Robin just had to laugh. Yes, this was the very man she loved. Perhaps, there really wasn't all that much that had changed after all.

"I believe you've told me a few times, yeah…" She shrugged with a lingering smirk, as they finally stepped through the large doors and into the lively entrance hall that was still filled with way more people than Robin had expected. "Oh for heaven's sake… At least we can pretend that we weren't quite as late as we were now. Just delayed by the crowd."

"The dunderhead gang certainly hasn't caught my eye yet." His tone was way more neutral now, as was his face when Robin looked up at him, but then again, they were surrounded by a brigade of people now, and her own expression had also fallen back into calm neutrality. His hand however stayed on her back even as they pushed their way through the crowds in search of the people they were –or rather Robin was– supposed to meet.

"Did you just call my friends 'the dunderhead gang'?" She had to snort upon his words though, quiet as they were, and quirked an eyebrow up at him in unadulterated amusement.

"Problem with that?" He quipped quietly, with a completely straight face but the most teasingly indifferent tone imaginable; Robin's jaw dropped in an instant. Oh, so this is how things were going to be now, huh? Well, to be honest, they hadn't ever been much different in the first place, and she would rather chop her own legs off than change a thing about it. Not so different after all, then… only better.

"Robin!!!" Cas' excited squeal reached her ears even before she saw the blonde mane and brightly coloured dress in the crowd. Three seconds later, she was wrapped up in a bear hug by her younger friend. "There you are!"

"Hi Cas…" Robin chuckled, and absentmindedly picked at the threads of glittery fabric that hung around her now. "Happy new year."

"Yes! Right!" She grinned as she pulled back at last. "Happy new year to you too."

While Cas stepped back and made room for the next person to come and hug her, Robin looked around with a frown once she realized that the hand on her back was gone, the space by her side empty. Where had he gone? A little stab of hurt twisted her gut, but when she suddenly found herself surrounded by the usual giant group of overly excited students, the reason for that hurt changed in an instant. He had gone so she could be with her friends; the only painful thing about that was the fact that it was necessary in the first place. At this point in time she couldn't have both, her friends and Severus, and that was the true and only tragedy about it. Robin made a mental note to thank him for being so understanding of that when she sought him out later, perhaps in the form of teasing him about his distaste for social interactions with students. He'd understand that for sure.

For the next minutes however, she was hugged by more people than she would've liked, and some of them unfortunately touched that one spot on her back that was still aching quite a bit upon contact. The area Morgan had left in pain through his touch, and probably some pieces of magic as well; she hadn't even known he was capable of that, wordless spells... But once the hugging and the new year's wishes were over, the pain reducing again and the crowds clearing up with students retreating to the common rooms and guests leaving, she was smiling along with her friends nonetheless. The excitement over tonight's events wasn't so easily hidden behind any calm facades.

"Say, where did you leave your shadow?" Gideon finally dared to ask her, after looking like he'd swallowed his tongue for the minutes prior. "Isn't it a bit… I don't know… weird, to hang around with a professor all evening?"

"He's not my professor. We work together as equals, which technically makes us colleagues in that regard. I've told you that much before." Robin replied with an expression as calmly neutral as was humanly possible in her situation. "But to answer your question, I haven't the foggiest where he is. We took a walk down to the lake to get away from people after I started feeling a bit queasy in the crowds, but I haven't seen him since we arrived back here." That, she proudly thought to herself, was very much the truth. Not the entire truth, but what's new.

"Ah, so that is why your dress is in its current state… And why you're practically glowing from the inside… Because of your walk…" Jorien mused in pointed innocence, and with a tiny smirk that had Robin glaring at her in an instant. Simon raised an eyebrow at the two of them in silent question, but nobody else picked up on the subtle implications of that statement nor the unspoken warning that had followed upon it. Just like nobody else had picked up on whatever it was that Jorien had obviously seen in Robin's carefully constructed demeanor yet again. The girl really was getting way too good at reading people…

"Earth to Robin!" Cas waved her hand in front of Robin's face to regain her attention. "I actually decided to listen to your stupid advice about being classy and all that jazz… So instead of making out in some shitty hallway, we-..."

"I honestly don't want to know the specifics! Do what you want to, but leave me out of it. I can't approve of this endeavor, so I'd rather not know about it at all."

"Yes, no, exactly that is my point! I changed my mind about the whole thing. Because you're right, and it would be stupid and pathetic and childish." Cas insisted with an almost serious face, before the smile was back in a matter of seconds. "So Jorien and I are having a girls' sleepover in our room tonight instead. With Melissa and Lisa and Joan and Meghan."

That did bring a smile to Robin's face indeed, a very much pleased one even. "That's great, Cas. I'm proud of you for making that decision, and I'm actually quite sure that you won't regret it either. Sometimes waiting really does pay off."

"Told you she'd say that." Jorien remarked quietly, and Cas rolled her eyes in return, so the former turned to Robin instead. "You know, you're welcome to join us if you want to… Even if I have a feeling that you'd rather do anything but."

"Staying up all night with six fifteen year olds? I think I'll spare myself that discomfort; I would only spoil the fun for you guys." Robin sighed, then let out a humoured huff as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But it's nice of you to alibi-invite me nonetheless. I won't get in the way of your plans tonight, don't worry."

"Thank you!" Cas squealed, again at a pitch that made the hairs in Robin's neck stand straight, even when the girl wrapped her into another hug. "You're honestly the best roommate ever. The best sister ever! Brilliant and kind and generous and thoughtful and beautiful and sexy and-..."

"Yeah yeah, just… don't set the place on fire, alright?" Robin replied a bit awkwardly upon being given such easy compliments that probably even were somewhat heartfelt, but still too shallow to affect her in any other way than causing her embarrassed discomfort.

"We won't wreak havoc, I promise." Jorien said in all sincerity, and that was probably the only and best reassurance Robin would get. "And nobody touches your stuff, just like always."

"Good." Robin sighed, then offered them a smile. "Perhaps we should say goodnight now nonetheless. It's ten to one, and I believe one o'clock is tonight's curfew. I wouldn't want any of you guys to be caught out of bed beyond that."

"Wait a second…" Cas frowned all of a sudden, while the wheels in her head were obviously turning. "Where will you be staying tonight, since we're obviously evicting you?"

"That, my friend, is for Robin to know and for us to eternally wonder about." Jorien replied with a perfect smile before Robin could, and wrapped an arm around her blonde friend's shoulder. "C'mon now, say goodnight to your Prince Charming so we can get going."

While the group said their goodnights in general then, with hugs and kisses and too many words, Robin couldn't help wondering about Jorien. The girl really was a riddle sometimes, but she obviously had understood the lesson learned during breakfast two weeks ago. Really, Robin couldn't blame her for seeing what she herself deemed obvious as well, could she? It was only good that she had understood that she was to keep such knowledge to herself from now on. Still, Robin couldn't help feeling proud of both girls tonight. The more they were growing up, the more she could really be friends with them. Perhaps, one day, they would be at a point where it didn't matter anymore that they weren't the same age. Where it didn't matter who Robin's heart belonged to for the ages yet to come.

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#snape #severus snape #severus snape x oc #snape x oc #snape imagine #severus snape imagine #snapedom #pro snape #severus snape x ofc #snape x ofc #snape fanfic #severus snape fanfic #severus snape fanfiction #snape fanfiction #severus snape fic #snape fic #young snape #professor snape #voluptas noctis aeternae #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #hogwarts #professor x student #severus x oc #slytherin #hogwarts fanfiction #slytherin au

[evildisneydorks]

How did each villain met their henchmen I’m curious because:

Hades refers pain and panic as his kids (sons)

How the henchmen met the villains

(I will do this in a two part series; this first part will only include the henchmen that live in the mansion while the other will include the rest)

Pain and Panic:

-Those two were living simple lives as mischievous young demons breaking havoc in the human world when somehow found their way to the Underworld and Hades found them after had attempted to break into his office.

-The god had to admit that he was a bit dumbfounded of what those two little demons could accomplish because being able to fool Cerberus was impressive enough, but by two insignificants demons that were practically the equivalent of 5 year olds?!

-He was speechless for a while, but eventually got his mind together and proposed a deal to them: They could work for him and have his protection or get thrown into the Styx for all eternity, their choice.

-Those two never shook a hand so fast on their entire lives.

-He taught them everything they would ever need to know about the Underworld and his evil schemes, knowing that their skills could be useful, along with taking the role as guardian since since they were still young.

Diablo

-Maleficent found the little newborn raven trembling in fear and cold on an empty nest, screeching for its mother return. Little did the little raven know that its mother had been killed by one King Stephan's hunters and now the creature was at the mercy of the dark fae.

-In a strange turn of events, Maleficent took pity of the raven and took it into her castle. She nursed the little bird for a couple of months and once it had grown enough and learned how to fly.

-But it never left. The bird would always come back to bring her presents and sleep on the windowsill of her chamber. Even when Maleficent insisted on him returning to the wild with his fellow ravens he would always be knocking on the fae’s window with a new shiny item for her.

-After a lot of thinking she decided to train the young bird to be her ally, her eyes and ears on the kingdom. She was aware that the animal was intelligent and stealth enough to go unnoticed and bring her news.

-The bird’s natural malice, cleverness and loyalty to Maleficent soon earned her affections and he became more than just one of her henchmen, but her closest friend and familiar.

Flotsam and Jetsam

-In a similar way to Pain and Panic, the eel brothers were living an idle but still reckless life when they first encounter Ursula.

-She discovered the little eels trying to force their way out of a trap set by humans and set them free (presumably to try to harvest their organs for ingredients).

-As soon as they were free they attempted to make a run for it and get away from the stranger but they were too tired and too hurt to go very far, which made Ursula take pity of the poor animals and bring them to her lair to heal them.

-No one had ever done something like that to them, they were used to being chased and threated by everyone in Atlántida… they swore loyalty to the octopus woman from that day forward.

-And so, Ursula ended up adopting her as her pets since she was in the need of new henchmen that could lure in some poor unfortunate souls to keep her business going. She also taught them the art of manipulation and is the one responsible for their magic eyes.

Brutus and Neron

-Medusa discovered a large crocodile living in the houseboat she had recently inherited and took the decision anyone would have taken in that situation: Shot the beast between the eyes.

-But she didn’t know it was a mother until two little crocodiles crawled out of her mouth.

-Snoops told her to shoot them as well, but Medusa was already melting over the adorable little reptiles and scooped them on her arms like they were kittens.

-She always wanted to have exotic pets and now she had the chance! At first she wasn’t trusted by the baby crocodiles, but that’s nothing a good meals cannot change.

-Overtime the two crocodiles start to get accustomed to her, and even a bit affectionate towards their new “mother”. Medusa also trains them to patrol the island and protect it from any intruders, as a way to keep her dirty business hidden from any meddling authorities.

Iago

-It’s confirmed in canon that Jafar found him on the bazaar so I’m mostly sticking to that.

-The first time the vizier saw the parrot he was in a small, miserable cage, repeating phrases over and over again with a pained smile and a voice that hinted disdain at every and single one of the costumers.

-He wasn’t feeling empathy towards the animal, but rather a certain curiosity on how much it resembled his situation with the Sultan… It could be described as strange reflection.

-“We are not so different you and I”

-“Wouldn’t be that sure of it, noodle goatee”

-Oh fuck, it talks.

-Jafar bought him in a heartbeat.

Kronk

-Yzma needed a new, young, and strong gent to help her around so she put an out an employement advertise.

-No one responded, knowing damn well how much of a horrible boss Yzma was.

-Well, except one man. Kronk was already well-known in the village for his kindness and willingness to help everyone, especially the children and the elderly.

-And Yzma fitted in one of the two categories so he applied for the job. She took him in because 1) He was strong and kind enough to make him do all sorts of jobs for her and let her treat him like trash; and 2) He was the only candidate.

-He kinda started to get a bad reputation shorty after starting to work for Yzma, but he acted like he didn’t mind and stayed true to himself despite of the jobs the older woman gave him.

Note: I took some ideas from @alittlecursed because their blog is great and a good source of inspiration

#my gods I'm feeling so productive #kronk #iago #brutus and neron #flotsam and jetsam #diablo #pain and panic #the emperor's new groove #aladdin 1992 #the rescuers #the little mermaid #the sleeping beauty 1959 #hercules 1997

[handsomesilco]

No one knows what it's like // Handsome Jack fic

-

Handsome Jack x fem!reader in first person. A short fluffy thing I wrote to soothe myself. Loosely inspired by 'Behind blue eyes'.

I apologize for any grammar mistake.

Enjoy xx

//

I sipped the liquor in the cup as I laid on the comfortable couch in front of the library. Jack's office had always been quite amusing to be in: the greatness of it all was breathtaking to say the least. I loved that nice spot in front of the fireplace that he left out for me to hang around. I knew that it could change with a simple touch of his sleek fingers on the console... And that the airlock room would come out in its place. A corner of delight suddenly transformed into a corner of murder and death.

I've never been a fan of Jack's ways to deal with... Liabilities. I don't think anyone in the entirety of Hyperion ever stood up for that. There were many wrong ways about the man... The dark side couldn't be ignored. It was huge, a deep dark shadow which became evident right there on his devilish grin. Was I scared of his behaviour? At times. Was I also tremendously in love?

His footsteps announced his arrival in the office; I got up from the couch and finished the expensive drink he used to buy just for me. Seeing him come in with his scruffy hair and that tired look on his face made my heart warm and my lips curved into a smile. He hadn't realized I was there yet so he started mumbling a little song to himself. He hated getting caught when he did that.

«Oh, come on Jackie. You know I hate that song.» I complained with a giggly voice.

He startled for a second and his eyes went right for the source of the sound. His stare was to die for, his heterochromia a challenge to my heartbeats.

«For fuck's sake, kitten. You could at least tell me before coming in the office.» he grunted while rolling his eyes in an attempt to sound assertive. I couldn't keep the laugh to myself and I almost ran towards him. I could see he was terribly tired and probably not in the mood for my excitement; however, his absence had been something I had to endure for way too long. He welcomed me in his embrace, grinning as his hands came into touch with my soft curves. We stood like that for a while, holding each other as tight as we could. We both needed a break from everyday life. He sniffed into my hair, kissing them afterwards, and then rest his head on mine.

«Today has been the worst fucking day ever, buttercup. And I'm afraid it's not nearly finished. So many things still to do, fricking bandits to shoot and vault hunters to check up on. You know they already reached Sanctuary? How fucking unbelievable.» he grumbled disappointingly, glancing the computer on his desk from afar. I broke the embrace and I looked at him straight in the eyes, making sure he did the same with me. I could see there was anxiety, sadness, fatigue and determination in them. I could see the broken pieces and the desperation to glue them in together. He really believed in his mission, he believed in his own greatness, or so he was forced to do so as not to wipe out everything he was and lived up to be right until that moment. He really thought he was the hero. I couldn't bring myself to defend his position entirely; I knew there was some kind of wrong in both parties, I knew he was too ambitious and his plan could eventually get him killed in no time. Which is why I was always there by his side, no matter the moral behind it. He needed someone to stand up for him, he needed someone to save him. Someone who knew what it was like to be a somewhat bad man. But also... Not necessarily the villain of the story. Behind his beautiful blue and green eyes, there was a soul. Broken, damaged, loving soul.

«Can I help in any way?» I pointed out, gently caressing his chin where the mask met the skin underneath. He knew I was always ready to be there for him but he couldn't believe it. Everytime, he paused to think if I was serious in my support. If I was... Truly an ally of his. If I really loved him without any tricks up my sleeve.

«I don't think you can, pumpkin. Buuuut you could always stay here with me and... I dunno. Dance for me or something. Show me the beautiful lingerie I know you have underneath that pretty dress of yours. Keep my brain occupied. And... Maybe something else, too.» he scoffed mischievously, holding me tight in his arms. He started looking at me with that intense smirk of his which could always get my head dizzy.

I know that going back to sex was... A way of escaping the deeper feelings. But I was fine with that. I was gonna show him my outmost love in the language he knew how to speak. And I was gonna prove to him, for the millionth time, that I was never gonna leave his side. I took his head in my hands and pulled it towards me. I kissed his soft lips over and over again, tasting the flavour of his mouth even with the mask on. Who knew; maybe he would have let me take that off this time. Let me see the man behind the beast, the scar behind the façade. He took my hand and brought me over to his desk, sitting down on his chair and welcoming me in his lap.

«Jack I lo--» I started out before he shut my mouth up with his finger. He knew what I was about to say and he almost always never allowed me too. It was still to heartbreaking for him. He needed to keep his boundaries up, still. But the look in his eyes told me a different story. And now, for the first time ever since the moment we met, he whispered something in return.

«Me too, princess. Me... Me too.»

#handsome jack #handsome jack x reader #borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands fanfiction #borderlands fic #handsome jack fanfiction #handsome jack fic #handsome jack imagine #comfort character

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Magical Loopholes

Chapter 63:  The Savior’s Test

One by one, the family exchanged glances at each other, doubtful and hopeful glances all at once before Emma gave the final nod and David left the shop, he assumed to fetch the dog. It was only once he'd gone that he turned to his fearless defender, realizing that their lunch had been interrupted yet again.

"Belle…I'm sorry that we-"

"It's fine," she assured him with a hand on his arm, smiling gently. "I'll stay."

Stay. Stay to watch. Stay to see him help. Stay to defend him. He couldn't help the smile that broke out over his face. He was beginning to enjoy having someone on his side a bit too much. If the others weren't there, he would have kissed her, but Emma chose that moment to clear her throat as if reminding him that they were, in fact, still present. He sighed in irritation of all they'd interrupted.

"In the back," he snapped before he led Belle back ahead of them. The sooner this was over, the better.

Fortunately, David returned quickly, leading the spotted dog into the back room on a leash. He smiled as he crouched down and urged the beast over to him. "Hey boy, good boy!" he cooed, using every trick to befriend the animal that Mr. Oak had taught him in his youth. The dog responded with a couple of happy licks as he stopped perfectly in front of him.

"I ah…didn't know you were such a dog person!" Belle said with a chuckled beside him.

"Well…a long time ago, in another life, I got to know a sheepdog or two." Yet another part of his life she had no knowledge of yet, a part he wanted to tell her about, a part he could be telling her about now over lunch if it weren't for this mess.

"That's fascinating," Emma drawled sarcastically. "But unless you can speak dog, how is Pongo gonna tell us anything?"

"With magic, of course," he commented. "It won't allow us to communicate, but it will allow us to extract his memories."

"Extract?!" David stressed his heart rate hitching.

"You don't have to worry. He won't feel a thing," he assured them. He wouldn't do this if it hurt the beast. Aside from the fact that Belle would never forgive him, he wasn't that much of a monster.

"Why should we trust you?" Emma argued. "You could just as easily use magic to fool us."

"Because I'm not going to be the one using magic…you are." He smiled as they have finally arrived at the best part of his plan, the part most informative and important to him.

"Me?" the girl questioned. "How?"

"You have it within you, told me so yourself," he pointed out before glancing to Mary Margaret. "You witnessed it, didn't you?"

That was a calculated guess. Emma hadn't said that Mary Margaret had seen it, but he assumed that by now, if she hadn't seen it herself, she'd at least heard about it. The look of nervousness and lack of denial from the Queen confirmed his suspicion.

"Emma, you don't have to do this," Mary Margaret pointed out as if her daughter was about to drink poison instead of performing a moderately difficult spell.

"If it tells us something about Archie's death, then so be it," she responded.

Excellent.

He carefully removed a box from his cabinet and searched inside to collect a memory keeper he'd once gotten from Clopin. Powerful things in their world somehow Mr. Gold knew it had transcended worlds somehow to arrive in this one as a "dream catcher" to another group of people.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked of Emma.

"A dream catcher," she responded appropriately, sounding almost as nervous as her mother.

"Well, it's capable of catching so much more," he explained.

He gave the artifact a bit of magic, just something to spark it to life after so long, and then summoned Pongo's gaze up to him and dragged the catcher down the dog's head, neck, and along his spine. It glowed as he did it, burning brighter and brighter before he finally pulled it off the animal, and he judged for himself the weight of what he'd collected. What he saw inside of it was interesting, very interesting indeed.

"What is that?" Belle asked beside him.

"Memories," he answered, standing up and shifting a bit so that she could see for herself there was no harm to the beast or in what he'd done. "Now, Miss Swan…you show us what happened?"

"How?" she asked as he presented it to her, and she reached out to take it. "It's just a jumble."

Was it now? A "jumble"…not nothing. That was very informative indeed. But with a bit more teaching, perhaps…

"Will it," he pressed. "Will it, and we shall all see."

Emma swallowed. Her heart sped up as she took a breath and looked into the catcher; her eyes flickered with concentration, her brows knit together as her muscles strained. There was a spark in the air, something made of magic, something powerful and strong that made the side of his mouth twitch into a smile-

"I can't," she responded.

He held in his laugh though it was hard given how predictable that had been. She'd felt it too. She had to have felt it inside herself. Now she just needed to learn not to run from it.

He took a step closer and nodded at her. "Yes, you can."

Again, she swallowed hard before giving a small nod, as if she understood what he hadn't said, as if it was all clear to her. And then she glanced back at the catcher, closed her eyes tight, and again it began. The race of her heartbeat, the furrowing of her brow, the strain in her muscles…and then the spark. Only this time, it was as if she'd grabbed hold of it, as if she'd recognized what it might have been last time and was clinging to it…her magic. It tasted delightful, even if it was some of the strongest Light Magic he'd ever been faced with. Intoxicating, delectable, extraordinary…and so very, very dangerous if it ever went up against his own. If it ever clashed.

A storm raged around the Savior, a cloud of black on the streets of Storybrooke as streetlights were destroyed, and she held the dagger in her hands. The Darkness found her.

"Emma, you're doing it!" David's voice tugged him out of his vision, the first he'd had in far too long. But one he couldn't dwell on at the moment, not at a time like this even if it if did feel like the Seer was trying to tell him something. Because there, in the keeper, were memories. Clear images of the night before, a traumatic event he'd plucked from the dog's mind for her to see.

Archie answering the door, "Regina!" He let her into the room, and the pair began to talk, words that the canine mind could not come to terms with. And then Regina reached forward, put her hand around the grasshopper's neck, and-

"Oh!" Mary Margaret threw herself into David's arms at the same time he felt Belle shudder and stir behind him. She didn't squeal or cry as Mary Margaret did, but he could still feel her heartbeat, tuned to it as he was, smell the fear pouring off her. He'd been honored that she'd wanted to stay during this, but he hadn't thought to consider the effects of potentially watching the woman who had threatened her life for decades kill another human being in front of her eyes.

"You were right all along!" Emma breathed as he managed to wrap his hand gently around Belle's.

"I'm sorry, Emma," David breathed as he comforted Mary Margaret, though what he was sorry for he wasn't positive about. Frankly, as Belle teetered on the edge of breakdown herself, he didn't really care. Nor did he care why Regina had suddenly decided to murder the bug when she'd been so against killing the biological mother of her child, her real threat, days ago. He just wanted the shop back again so he could calm Belle down.

"And now if you are quite satisfied that I am not the murderer you're seeking-"

"We'll go," Emma finished for him quickly. "We have to find her! We have to catch Regina and make sure Henry is okay so she can't hurt him!"

And that was that. In the blink of an eye, David had whispered something encouraging to Mary Margaret that forced her to pull herself together so they could go with the dog. He watched them go, saw them to the front door, and then magically locked it the second the bell finished ringing before turning back to Belle.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he whispered. She wasn't crying, not yet at least, but the hand he moved over her arm confirmed that she was trembling. Obviously, and understandably, shaken from what she'd seen. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

And then she gave in. She launched herself into his arms with a desperation that made him hold her just as tightly as she was holding onto him. How could he not, after the way she'd defended him in front of them, stayed by his side, endured those memories…she deserved every last ounce of comfort he had to give. So, he hushed her and cooed her. He rubbed her back the same way he did when they were in bed, hoping it might ease her as it did her nightmares. He made sure only to tell her true things, that she was okay, that she was safe. He reminded her that Regina had yet to come after her since she was free and promised her that if the bitch knew what was good for her, she wouldn't dare try now, for if she did, it would be her last day on this earth.

Finally, she peeled her head up off his shoulder, and he could see the tears that had gathered in her eyes. "I knew you hadn't done it."

The words were like a punch to the gut, shocking. They were unbelievable simply because he could see that she believed them. Every last one of them. She'd known he hadn't done it…from the beginning, she'd known. His defender, ally, lover, and True Love…so many new experiences, new thoughts, and emotions swirled inside of him every time they were together. And sometimes it was so overwhelming the best he could do was pull her closer and let her hold him as he held her.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark one #Mr. Gold #Belle #Pongo #Archie Hopper #jiminy cricket #Regina Mills #Evil Queen #Mary Margaret Blanchard #Snow White #David Nolan #Prince Charming #Snowing #Emma Swan #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness 35

Jaune’s life goes bad in this one.

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We marched in Leonardo's empty stronghold, Qrow in front and with legs that were only getting stronger. And Oscar was in the back. We rolled up on Haven in force and fully expected things to go sideways. I hadn’t allowed my friends to go in thinking anything but. Anything else would only get somebody killed. 

Not this time. Not my friends. Never again. 

We pushed our way in through a set of double doors into a large atrium. It was huge and in Mistrali style. It had plants and art lining the walls all of which ran up to a set of double stairs around a single central statue. 

“Why hello.” Lionheart greeted from the top of the stairs. He wasn’t waiting for us in his office like last time. Alarm bells went off in my head. My instincts screamed at me. Ruby walked beside me and her careful patience held me in check. Her own instincts had always been more on point than mine where non-Grimm were concerned. “Thank you for coming. There seems to be more of you than last time.”

“Yeah well you know what they say, the more the merrier,” Qrow inclined his head. “So what’s going on with the council.”

Lionheart appeared to be armed, for all that he was alone in a vast empty room. I suppose we were too. 

A portal, same black and red swirling mass that I'd seen Yang and Weiss emerge from, opened beside Leonardo. Out started to step people. People I recognized. 

"Raven…" Qrow murmured. "Jaune and Oz were right. It's a set up."

I witnessed the enemy line up. I started with the Scorpion, his eyes and mine met and he licked his lips. His gaze went past to Ruby and he glared, mechanical tail writhing in the air behind him. He looked fairly pissed. No doubt he wanted revenge for the missing appendage. 

I went down until I stopped at a huntress with tattoos and claw-like weapons. I recognized her as Vernal from when we fought.

"You!" She recognized, looking at me. "You're that huntsman."  She was the bandit from GaiLong with the wicked semblance. Or... 

"Jaune?" Ruby asked from beside me, not recognizing the blue eyed girl. 

"Vernal." I cleared the air, pieces fitting in my mind. "You're the spring maiden."

"You and I have unfinished business," she said, glowering. She'd have to get in line. I stared beyond her at Cinder. The two groups of hunters stood, sizing each other up in the middle of the atrium. Then out came Cinder's accomplices. Emerald and Mercury. 

Raven herself never came through the portal. Instead it collapsed and Vernal's eyes flared with maiden power. 

It seemed I indeed had unfinished business with two of the four maiden's if you counted Cinder. 

"Steady Jaune," Ruby murmured. Easier said than done. I wanted to activate my semblance and fling myself at Cinder. But she had two lackyes beside her. They'd get in the way. If I wanted to do this right I'd need to be careful. If I wanted Cinder to die I had to play things straight. 

Anything else and it would be my friends who suffered.

"You killed Pyrrha. I'm going to take you apart for that," I whispered.

"Who?" Cinder asked. "Oh the would-be maiden. You can hardly expect me to remember everyone but she does stand out to me."

I wanted to rush her. I wanted to charge my semblance and backflip up there and take her the fuck apart. Ruby reached out and grabbed me by my hand and my heart rate slowed down. I felt our aura's overlapped and the tension I felt in my heart eased slightly. 

I remembered the words she gave me at the top of the Gold Saucer carnival ride. If I wanted to have that, if I wanted to be hers, I had to wait. I had to approach it like Yang had mentioned to me, slow and careful. I'd have my chance at Cinder's throat. 

I would. 

I heard a noise from behind me, the great double doors on the atrium closed as an enormous man shut them. "The Whitefang are setting up the charges. No one's getting in, an' no one's getting out." 

"Leo I have to say I'm enormously disappointed in you." Oscar or maybe Ozpin said. 

"That boy is Ozpin, he must be." Lionheart said. 

"Ozpin is here?" Cinder asked. 

"That's not a problem, is it?" Vernal interrogated. 

"No. Leo, open the passageway to the vault." Lionheart pranced over and did something to the statue in the middle of the room. The dais began to descend, no guesses where it was heading. 

"Ozpin?" The enormous man growled. "You're the boy from the train station." He growled and surged forward. Ruby got in his way and shot him. There was a whorl of petals and she blocked his approach. 

I began to move forward as our two sides clashed in combat. The moment breaking like glass. 

I approached Cinder, sprinting over the ground with a scream. She blocked with a summoned sword and we clashed again and again. She smiled at me, sharp calm in the face of my jagged anger. Vernal only stood off to the side. 

I brought my sword down on her hard enough to crater the floor but she only stood firm, one sword turned sideways, her eye flaring up with maiden power. 

“You better mean it,” she whispered.

“Boy do I.” I hit her with the diagonal forward slash where I whipped my blade and my hips into it and leaned back. She blocked it with a casual smirk. 

"Stop messing with me!" I shouted. 

"But it's so easy." She laughed. I charged a little and activated my semblance, bringing the sword to bear against her as wisps of blue flame clung to me. 

"I'll show you," I growled. 

We flew at each other, she was on a platform of red flames which carried her forward and I was propelled by my will with one arm stretched forward and the other back, holding the massive weight of Crocea Mors. 

I surprised her by backflipping at her and I hit hard enough to send her sliding back. My strength doubled, my speed increased. 

I struck out holding onto the mobility and muscle improvements. 

She held out a palm and a torrent of flame shot at me but I skirted around it without traction and front-flipped at her bringing my sword down in a massive stroke. 

I slammed her and her weapon shattered like, well, like glass. She fell back. Her aura flared as I bit deep into it. Then I finished the trick and Limit broke, a whirling of blue attacks stormed her as I went for the finishing touch and tried to take her down. I knocked her back into the statue hard enough that pieces of it shattered off her face. 

She whipped to her feet, eyes narrowing as I stood stock still, flexing and charging my next semblance. She let out a scream and a torrent of air whipped over us all flinging us and her own allies about. 

Without my semblance she put me on the back foot. She came at me spinning like a top with her glass weapons. She slashed at my stomach then tried to take my head off with a swing of her opaque weapon. 

She summoned a series of molten arrows and the pieces stabbed my stomach and penetrated my aura hard enough to do some real damage to me. They were hot enough to leave welts behind where they struck. 

She rolled over my back and dragged me down in a choke hold with her weapon around my neck. Getting choked hurts for those unaware. The blood in your head throbs in time with your heartbeat and it's a bunch of pressure on your neck. 

The person doing the choking can control how much it hurts based on how hard they do the choke and you have one guess which decision she made about how to choke me out. 

She made it hurt. A lot. 

I kicked back at her and she dragged me to my knees. I managed to get my center of mass under my legs again and dropped my sword. I picked her up and slammed her into the statue. I did it again. And once more before she slid to the side and kicked off me, pushing me into the statue. 

The back of my head rang like a bell against the hard stone. 

When I got my bearings I slid baseball style and picked up my weapon. When I got back to my feet I faced another opponent. 

Black. 

I just had to trust that my friends had found their own opponents and we’d be fine. Together we can do this. 

He gave me a leering grin. "Jaune, right?"

I said nothing, leveling my broadsword at him. I finished the last bit of charge and turned on Limit Breaker. It was faster to charge now than ever before. The result of practice or something more? I was unsure. 

I wanted to get past him and fight Cinder again but she was descending in the elevator on a flux of wind and magic. Her eyes met mine and she gave me a beautiful smile, only marred by her half face. She blew me a kiss, promising vengeance. 

Black kicked at me and pushed stepped towards me but I had my semblance activated and outmaneuvered him by hovering. 

He tried to breach my space again but I timed him out with a tremendous swing of Crocea Mors. He blocked it with his legs but the blow sent him reeling. He stumbled back a few steps. 

He reengaged me more cautiously the second time, without the arrogant smirk. 

I struck Mercury back with my sword with a falling aerial attack. It was devastating and it rocked him on his feet. 

We clashed again and he bounced off my massive blade. I rolled my wrists and another flying kick was met with the edge of my sword. He kicked off of it and tried to force me into the ground. 

I was nimble with my semblance, though. I just rolled away from the pressure. 

I spent my semblance while in mid air and hit him with all five hits of Cross Slash. He blocked them all arms and feet dancing about but I could tell the experience wasn't comfortable. I saw him wince, especially at the tremendous last hit. He tried to punish me but I hadn't over extended. It was all safe pressure and I punished his own jump kick by bringing my sword all the way around my body as I glid through the air. 

Even without my semblance I had grown fast. Not fast enough to escape another snapping round kick. Then another from the opposite side. He'd penetrated my range and was seeing fit to make it hurt like hell. 

He kneed me in the face and I managed to stumble back.

He tried to approach me and I swiped upwards. The move caught him and launched him airborne. I did it again and launched him a little higher. The tip of my blade tearing into him. 

I bench pressed Mercury, juggling him with the massive sword. I hit the ground and swept the blade upwards, knocking him into the air again and I bench pressed him one more time. 

It felt like a bad matchup for him and I seemed unstoppable. He backed off when he finally hit the ground and shot at me with his legs. I had range on him and I was brutally strong. Even without my semblance I was fast enough to combo him. 

I countered with a blade-beam. We found ourselves staring the other down, our projectiles canceling out. 

I heard Nora cry out somewhere to my side but I couldn't let my focus waiver. I had to have faith. Ruby let out a grunt behind me as I continued to glare at Black. When I last got a peek, Ruby was engaging the tall man with Yang and Qrow. I heard him let out a bellow as he fought my friend and girlfriend and mentor. 

I supposed that left Weiss, Nora, and Ren fighting the Scorpion and Lionheart with Oscar. Oscar being one of the weaker members of our own squad I felt a flash of concern for him but I could ill afford the distractions. 

I stood still charging my semblance, my aura flaring as I approached the tipping point. Black got the memo. He had to approach me or I would become an even bigger threat. 

I'd kill him too. Black deserved it for what he put Yang through. 

He came at me pushing off the ground with a flare of his boots. He kicked at me high which I deflected, then he tried low and I punished him with a rising aerieal attack. I side-flipped at him bringing my sword around my body in a massive swing. He was forced to block it and I had him trapped beneath me. 

I backflipped in place, threatening Mercury the entire time I was airborne. When I hit the tile I reached out and grabbed him where he was blocking, picked him up off his feet and slammed him into the ground. 

He leapt back up to his feet but I was already airborne and threatening another devastating landing aerial attack the entire time. He watched me with a wary look in his eyes, he knew how dangerous my falling attacks could be and while he wasn't quite scared he was over respecting me. 

I hit the ground once more and reached out and slammed him into the ground again. If he thought he could just block against me, he'd have another thing coming. 

I backflipped in place and was seriously going to do it to him a third time in a row when he boost-kicked off the ground and hit me in the face. 

I fell back but caught myself on the tile, flipping back to my feet. 

Cinder was back up the vault shaft, Vernal wasn't with her, and she had what I could only suppose was the Relic in her hand. A dangerous sly smile on her face as she flexed a hand and blue power flared around her one remaining eye. 

A sniper shot struck Cinder's hand and the relic went flying. Her gaze snapped to Ruby who must have fired the shot. Her eye flared with power. Vernal was dead, then. I wanted to stand between her and Ruby but I held my position against Black. 

Leonardo Lionheart picked the lamp up. 

"Jaune stop him!" Ruby called out, she had her eyes on the prize. I was closest to acquiring the relic. The relic was what mattered. 

I disengaged Black, hitting him with a triple sword swing, the first two attacks holding him in place before the last, blinding fast, flung him away. 

"I got him!" Yang called out, communicating with me that Black wouldn't be free to harass one of my friends in the back. 

I activated my semblance and chased Lionheart. I slashed at his shield-like weapon with Crocea Mors. 

I chased him down the school corridors, the swings of my sword tore up the hallways as I sprinted after him. He fired dust back at me which I narrowly dodged again and again. I hovered in place and threw a blade beam at him but he blocked with his shield.  

He retreated down a narrow passageway away from the rest of the fighting, the relic still in his free hand. 

I kicked him back and threw him into a room and inside there was this glowing, hovering, Grimm, thing. It had long sweeping tentacles beneath a large orb. Before I could spend my semblance on either it or Lionheart a woman's voice boomed from it. The voice was quiet and calm but it seemed to come from inside my head as well as the orb. I collapsed as my forehead pulsed with pain. 

"Now what's this?" I heard the voice say. I felt it too within my head. It was a woman’s voice and I heard it all the time.  

I recognized it intimately. I knelt on the ground in front of the Grimm and looked up through my throbbing eyes. 

"What have you brought me, Leo?" 

"M-m-m…" I stuttered out. "Mother!?"

I'd heard that voice in my dreams and beyond. In my worst nightmares that voice terrorized me. I recalled a thousand horrible dreams as I crouched on the floor of that room. 

"Oh you must be Merlot's." The voice purred. I could see her face through the orb. "And haven't you done well for yourself. For us. Hush now. Don't speak."

The voice in my mind commanded me and I bit down on my tongue rather than utter a word. Blood welled up from it in my mouth. I couldn't fight the compulsion. No matter how hard I tried to speak or move I couldn't. I had to obey the thing on the other side of the Grimm. I tried to scream out, the agony in my head far worse than the middling pain coming from my mouth yet all I managed was a quiet moan. 

Salem. 

"We expected you to fail. I expected you to be thrown out by Ozma when he discovered you didn't even have aura. Yet here you are," Salem's voice went on. "You will bring the relic to me." She decided. 

"But your grace…" Lionheart tried, he'd regained his footing. The Grimm thing lashed out with one of its tentacles and ripped his throat out. Blood poured out over the room as Lionheart choked on nothing but blood and his own gore.

"Bring me the relic, child. My child. Long have you and your sisters filled my dreams. Jaune Arc, was it? Yes, I know your name."

I could still say nothing. Blood poured over my lips as I trembled beneath the thing. She was reaching out through it and controlling me so thoroughly I managed not a single other thought. 

Obey me. The compulsion demanded. It shook something loose inside my mind and I thought I was going to go mad. I reached out and picked up the relic. With trembling hands which slowly grew smoother I strapped it to my waist by a belt. 

"Jaune!" It was Nora at the door. "Ruby did something to Cinder, she and Emerald are-" she broke off. She looked down and saw me with Lionheart's corpse, kneeling before the tentacled Grimm. Ren stood behind her, shocked looks on both their faces. 

"Kill her," the voice purred from the orb and in my mind. "And the boy."

I couldn't help it. I whipped to my feet and struck against Nora. I spent Limit with intent to kill. I caught her by surprise and blew her off her feet and through the adjacent wall. 

Ren cried out in fear. He drew his blades against me but I swept them aside. I charged Limit between our clashes and soon I would have it again. We collided and I laughed madly in his face. Soon I could kill these two and be on my way to Mother. Nora lept from the crater I'd put her into and tried to bring her hammer down on me. 

"Jaune why are you doing this?!" Nora screamed. "What's going on?!" I slashed at her with the long edge of Crocea Mors. She ducked and backed off, spinning away from me with her hammer in hand. 

I choked on blood and my own mangled tongue worked in my mouth. Parts of it were hanging on by threads of flesh. "Because Mother told me to," I cried out, voice warbled by my destroyed tongue. The words were indecipherable as they exited me. I couldn't stop my movements anymore than I could stop the sun in the sky. 

It was something ingrained in me. Deep in my bones. I slashed at her twice before I chased after Ren. I knew he would give me the greater trouble. I brought the sword down on him in a massive overhead slash which slammed him into the ground. Nora's hammer pinwheeled and caught me center of mass and threw me into a wall but she was holding herself back. 

I could feel her holding herself back. She clobbered me again and once more. Around the shoulders and chest. She was still not giving it her all, though. If she kept that up I'd win and kill them both. 

She had to stop me. 

She had to kill me. 

"Jaune what did that thing do to you?"

I gargled blood and babbled out something unintelligible. I laughed and tried to scream at the same time. I was sure I was frothing at the mouth besides. All I could think of, all I could focus on, was the desire to kill my friends and if they kept holding back I'd succeed. 

I hit Nora like a ton of bricks. I slashed into her aura and bit deep. I cut at her again with a horizontal slash that flung her to the side. 

"No!" Ren cried out. 

He slashed at me and rained bullets as he jumped over me. I caught one of his blades and hit him like I was swinging a home run. It caught him in the chest and I saw his aura flare up. 

"That Grimm must have done something to him. Jaune you have to snap out of it! How do we help him?!"

I knew all their weaknesses. I slashed a golf swing at Ren which nearly put him through the ceiling and ripped a long cut in the paper walls besides. 

I was all over him with my sword. Swinging away and chipping at his defenses. I'd break through eventually and then… and then… and then…

I muttered madly under the pressure I felt in my thoughts. They were going to die. They must die. 

"I don't know," Ren grunted under my assault. "Jaune please," he begged.

I brought my sword down on him tearing up the thin papery walls. He blocked again and again but he wasn't fighting to kill me like I was him. Instead he tried to disarm and subdue me but I backed off. Warding with the long blade, I swept it at his face. 

I flew at him like I was a monster and slashed low then high then back and forth in front of my body. I brought the blade all the way around my body and down on him, trying to crush him if I couldn't slice him. 

Nora came at me and I caught the handle of her hammer by my free hand and threw her into Ren. They collided and went tumbling down, over the headmaster's office desk. 

Nora jumped up at me but I met her in the air with a massive helmsplitter and knocked her through a few walls with an expenditure of Limit Break Braver. 

I stood in the middle of the room then. Just charging and waiting for Ren to rise. He came at me low, having seen what kept happening to Nora when she went high but I knew all his moves and never let him get close enough to grab me. I side-flipped and slashed him into a wall. Then I hammered him into it again with a giant swing. 

Nora came at me again and I ducked under the swing. She reversed it and tried to catch me up in it but I blocked with the side flat of my blade and swept down towards her fingers. It forced her to back off and I climb-hazard her up onto the next floor and slammed her back down again. My blade flashed and sung through the air as I pounded her. 

Ren came at me screaming and I kept him off me. I was fighting to kill him and he was fighting just to stay alive. It showed. I backflipped over him, jumped off one of the narrow walls and Limit Break Cross Slashed my friend in the back as I hung upside down in the passageway. 

I hung in place as I delivered the terrifying attack. There was nothing he could do being caught up in it but grunt under the weight of the blows. 

One. A slash to the side. Two. An ‘x’ across the legs. Three. A blow to his ribs. Four. A horizontal slice across his chest. Five. The last of the kanji hung in the air.

Each of the five hits struck true. The second to last one shattered his aura and the last one cut him so deeply at the stomach I knew he would die. I severed his spine and he nearly fell into two gasping halves. 

"No!" Nora called out. "Jaune how could you?!" She kept at me with tears in her eyes. She brought the hammer down on me and I bounced off the floor. I slashed at her while she stood guard over Ren and relentlessly whaled on her while all she could do is block. 

Some hits got through. She couldn't block everything and, even with Ren dying behind her, she still wasn't fighting back to kill me. 

I reared back, took aim and thrust forward with Crocea Mors. It slid through her crackling pink aura and blood welled up in a fountain as I ran her through. 

She softly touched my face as I speared her all the way to the base. 

I slid my sword into her small body all the way to the hilt and with a last shudder, she died. 

She fell back onto Ren and they passed together. 

Like that I was the last member of team JNPR. 

I wanted to claw my eyes out, I wanted to scream, all I could do was start walking in the direction I knew, knew, Salem to be. I snuck out of the school through the entrance we'd come in on that day we met Lionheart, tearing my way through the walls. I snuck away from the rest of my friends.

She'd looked so much like the blonde woman I knew to be my Mother… but her skin was ghostly white like Grimm bone and her eyes were red instead of pale blue. 

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

#rwby #ruby rose #mercury black #jaune arc #cinder fall #vernal #raven branwen #qrow branwen #oscar pine #ozpin #hazel rainart #lancaster #ruby rose x jaune arc #war of the roses #white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #ff7 #ffvii #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc #jenova #salem #jenova!salem #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #lie ren #nora valkyrie #merlot

[tomhardysteeth]

Counting Heartbeats

[ao3] Joe x Nicky 2.7k words During the time it takes Nicky to come back to life after an accidental death, Joe thinks back on their 900 years together. 

It hurts every time. 

The waiting, the tattoo of his heartbeat growing stronger and faster the longer the wait as a tangible reminder that all hearts permanently stop beating eventually.

This time is very stupid. 

Joe and Nicky were just eating a lovely dinner together in one of their safe houses when Nicky laughed at something Joe had said and subsequently began choking on the food Joe had cooked. Joe, of course, tried to save him, but it was a fluke accident that inevitably ended in Nicky’s death.

Joe counts the rhythm of his heartbeat as he waits. He holds Nicky’s head in his lap on the floor and strokes his thumb across his reddened cheek and hums a soft tune as he counts.

The first time Nicky had died was clear in Joe’s memory, because he had been the one to kill him and watching a man come back to life is not something easily forgotten (at least, not the first time). Joe thought he was just imagining things, until Nicky stabbed him through the chest and Joe experienced the nothingness himself, the unquantifiable dark emptiness of nonexistence before he impossibly breathed himself back to life and killed Nicky again. And again and again and again until other soldiers began to take notice, and there was a moment of understanding, a moment of looking into each other’s eyes for the first time not as enemies but as allies, and they fled together, wordlessly, into hiding because they knew that they were the same and that they were different.

They learned each other's languages patiently and painstakingly, and for a while they spoke a combination of Arabic and Ligurian, oftentimes switching mid-sentence and then switching right back. Once they could fully understand each other, the first real conversation they had was about what it felt like to die.

“Did you see what you were fighting for? Heaven?” Joe asked.

Nicky shook his head and smiled, his eyes cast down thoughtfully at the ground of the cave they were holed up in. “There was nothing. Every time. Nothing.”

“And when you wake, it feels like no time has passed, and that all of time has passed.”

Nicky laughed and nodded his head. “Yes. Exactly.”  He looked at Joe, considering. “What we were fighting for is meaningless.”

“Your religion? Maybe. The god you worship, did he rise from the dead?”

“He did. Perhaps he was like us.”

“So does that mean he was a man, or that we are gods?”

Nicky laughed again. Joe quickly discovered that he liked that small, quiet laugh and that he liked being the one to cause that laugh. 

It made sense, in their own little pocket of the universe, when Joe kissed Nicky for the first time. They had been living together, hiding together, running together for a year, maybe two, and they had met Andy and had some questions answered while others continued to pile up, but meeting her put things into perspective. They had an inherent bond with her, of course, but it was different than the bond they had with each other. Until they met Andy, they believed their bond was born primarily out of having the same affliction, but Joe remembered recognizing right away that he would never feel for Andy what he felt for Nicky, that the intensity of his affections were reserved for one person only. And he could feel it, too, without ever having talked about it, that Nicky felt the same. Their love began easily, with gentle touches and secret kisses, and it was altogether thrilling and scary, monumental and simple, and even if they had had just one lifetime together instead of a hundred, Joe would still feel like the luckiest man alive.

The next time Nicky had died was also clear in Joe’s memory, because he loved him, he loved him, he loved him, and he watched the light extinguish from his eyes, and Andy was there with a firm hand on Joe's shoulder, holding him back and yelling in his ear, Nicolo will come back, keep fighting! But it did not stop his heart from hammering furiously in his chest until Nicky came back. That time, Joe felt before he saw; the beat of his heart evened out before he even saw that Nicky was alive. His heart knew.

“When I die, do you feel it?” Joe asked Nicky, one night when everything was still new, when they still felt young and years still felt like years instead of minutes, when they had been together for a single year and it felt like a significant amount of time, a collection of moments, of firsts, to hold and cherish for the long future ahead of them. “Do you feel the pain?”

Nicky was on his back, Joe curled under his arm with his head resting on his chest. He could feel Nicky’s heart beating softly beneath him. “Of course I do,” Nicky replied.

“We began together, do you think we’ll…?”

Nicky squeezed Joe closer against his side. “‘Began,’ is that what you call it? I think of it as being born together.”

“You didn’t answer my question, love.”

“You know I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Humor me.” Joe lifted his head to press a kiss to the underside of Nicky’s jaw. “Please,” he mumbled against his neck.

Nicky huffed a laugh. “I sometimes wonder if it’s not the time that matters but the number of times we die. Maybe Andromache is still alive because she has only been killed 200 times, and maybe on the 300th time she will not come back. If it takes many millennia for that many deaths to occur, then she will live for many millennia.”

“By that logic, if she wanted to die, she could kill herself over and over until she reaches the magic number.”

A beat passed before Nicky said, “It is probably best if we don’t tell her this theory.”

“Agreed.”

“I know it is illogical, but I do keep count,” Nicky continued. “As much as it is possible, I want us to stay close to one another in how often we die.”

Joe traced a line with his finger down Nicky’s chest, the skin smooth and unblemished despite how often it had been stabbed. “Yes, it would be good to try to die as little as possible.”

Nicky kissed the top of his head, burying his whole face in Joe’s hair. “I know we are young, but I fear it will never get easier to see you die. I will worry every single time that it is your last.”

Joe squeezed his lover tight, in confirmation that he felt the same.

After a decade together, Joe began drawing. Everything. He still felt like a young man, but memories are tricky, and the one looming fear of his life was that the vastness of time ahead of him would make him forget all the good he had already experienced. How fortunate he was, to be scared of eternity not because of loneliness and heartbreak and loss but because of having too many good memories to recollect. 

Nicky became exasperated with him, with how often he stopped whatever they were doing so he could draw whatever they were doing, or just draw Nicky because “you made a face I like, I need to preserve it.” Parchment was not easy to come by, but Joe was relentless in his efforts.

He drew and drew and drew, a constant as rocksteady as their love for each other.

For a period lasting nearly 50 years, neither of them died. They still fought battles, with Andy deciding when and how they would fight, but they survived each one like very lucky mortal men. It was during a skirmish with a small group of religious extremists somewhere in Europe that Nicky’s throat was cut clean across, and Joe cried out in pain so loud that Andy pulled him against her body and held him tight until he felt his heart calm. 

That was the first time he remembered feeling old. He and Nicky had been together for so long, what felt like so long, they often acted like old men. Their love deep and settled and sure, they spent many days together not even speaking, only small touches, sexless for weeks without noticing. 

But after Nicky’s throat was slit, a fire ignited in Joe, a myopic feeling of impermanence making him hungry for every touch, every kiss, every fuck. He mapped his body with his lips for several nights in a row, kissing and licking every inch of skin, opening himself up while swallowing Nicky’s cock, bringing him right to the edge with his mouth before readjusting and sinking down, riding him slowly and surely because they had all the time in the world.

And after, lying naked together, Joe scooped Nicky into his arms, back to chest, and whispered against his ear the many ways in which he loved him. 

The next time, it was Joe who died a brutal death, and it was Nicky who experienced an existential crisis that resulted in many pleasurably sleepless nights.

When they grew past the age of a normal lifespan, they began counting in decades instead of years. There was a decade of boredom. A decade of bliss, and a second, third, fourth decade of bliss. Then a decade of bickering with one another. A decade of attempted relationships with others outside of Joe, Nicky, Andy—they tried having pets, they tried making friends, they even considered finding a way to raise a child together. 

But they were outcasts, and not because of their supposed immortality. They could lie about that, could know a person for years before it became an issue, but for the other reasons. The other reasons were not so easily overlooked. Christian and Muslim, holding hands—they avoided much of Europe for many years. Progress is not linear, however, and so they could spend several years in a place where they could be themselves, only to move on to a place where they could be killed for being themselves, and this was over and over again, for hundreds of years, and in the 21st century they both finally began believing that progress was a line and not a circle only to stumble upon a small town in the American Midwest where they were refused a room at three different hotels. The decade was the 2010s.

They had never broken up. Not once in 900 years had it even come up. They needed space sometimes, sure, but the one thing they had learned from living so long is that time is not real and that a decade together can pass in a moment while three days apart can feel like a year, and so they had never spent more than a couple weeks apart from each other in 900 years.

There was longing, yearning, stretches of time where they wanted to escape the life that was chosen for them, and there were many years that they did not fight any battles, that they did not even see Andy. They both went through periods of depression, mania, and every human emotion in between, identity crises and existential dread, and sometimes the only thing tethering them to reality was the steadfast surety of their love for one another, that when all else seemed lost, they had each other. They checked on Andy a lot during their lowest moments. It was impossible to imagine how she had survived all this time without an anchor.

Living so long rattled one’s moral compass. Any hard decision, any mistake would be forgotten or would prove unimportant with the ever patient and forgiving passage of time. Hundreds of years, killing countless men, it is not possible to feel them all, to remember them all and carry the burden of all that death. No matter how many wars they fought, Joe was never fully confident that they were on the right side or that there was a right side. There was always the nagging deep in his subconscious that there could be more, that they could be doing more with the time they were given, but he wasted years and years trying to figure out what. Once they became old enough to read about things they had lived through in history books, it seemed obvious that they should have done this, could have done that, focused more on this, ignored that, and the world would be a better place if they had just been able to see the big picture. Living through so much of the world’s history made it feel like the responsibility of the world’s trajectory was on their shoulders.

“We can only do what we can do,” Nicky would say, every time Joe had to get his jumble of thoughts out, and he somehow always had the grace to be gentle with him, even after having the same conversation hundreds of times. “We are only men, after all.”

They were not always careful, or they were not always lucky. They had been tested on by doctors, priests, scientists, witches; it was hard to keep track of all the times they had died on operating tables, only to be discarded when their secrets could not be revealed. These deaths were painful, like the others, but for some reason they made for the best sex afterward. We are only men, after all.

When Booker was born, they began fighting smaller battles. They were for-hire for any job that seemed like the right thing to do. After Booker’s last son passed away, the four of them lived together for many years. They all four liked each other, then they hated each other, then they loved each other. There was a sadness in the set of Booker’s shoulders that time could not heal, a grief somehow heavier than the kind Andy carried. It was through Booker that they learned that grief does not compound or diminish with time, it comes and goes as it pleases. 

And then came Nile.

It hurts every time.

At beat number one hundred ninety-nine, Joe’s heart evens to a steady pace. At two hundred twelve beats, Nicky coughs his way back to life, red skin fading back to white, blue eyes blinking open.

Joe’s face splits into a grin as he looks down at his lover. “That was all my fault,” he says as a tear slips down his cheek. "I finally cook dinner for once, and you die."

Nicky reaches up and cups his jaw, fingers pressing lightly into his beard. “It’s OK, that’s the first time in several hundred years that you’ve accidentally killed me.”

“I told you, it was Andy that accidentally shot you in the Revolut—”

"I know, I know." He smiles warmly up at Joe. Quietly, he says, "You're OK. I'm here."

“What are y’all doing?” 

Nicky and Joe both lift their heads at the sound of Nile's voice. Nicky sits up and leans his weight back against Joe’s chest, both of them still on the floor of the kitchen.

“Joe was waiting on me to come back to life. He poisoned my food to see what would happen.”

Joe playfully bumps his shoulder against Nicky. 

Nile raises her eyebrows at them. “Cool. Um, I was hoping I could talk to you guys for a minute.”

They help each other up and gesture to the kitchen table as they talk over each other with of course you can talk to us, anything you need, we’re glad you came to us. 

Nile sits across from them and folds her hands on the table. “You’ve been alive nearly a thousand years, right?”

They both nod.

“Do you remember what it was like? At first?” She scratches the side of her face, her eyes wide as she looks down at the table. “Because I’m 27 and I still feel 27 even though I know I’m gonna be 27 for, you know, a really long time. I don’t feel old yet, and I don’t feel like I’m gonna feel old for a while. But I can’t even imagine what it’s like to live for so long, like, am I even gonna remember any of this in a couple hundred years? How do I make sure I don’t...forget?”

Joe and Nicky share a look. Nicky nods his head, silently telling Joe to get up. 

Joe excuses himself. He has some drawings to retrieve. 

#the old guard #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #immortal husbands #the old guard fic #my fics #i was doin this for the clout but then i had a lot of fun #sorry i'm like this lmao