#of course she pledged herself to the first person to have answers!!!!

[fear-ne]

after that whole conversation i am even more convinced liliana became pregnant right at the cusp of her powers manifesting. i think her powers grew as her belly did. and the nightmares. and dreaming of her child being torn from her. and the red red moon. the red red storms. not understanding. and then her child is born under the same light of the ruddy moon that haunts her. same eyes, same hair, same threat of a curse. and so she runs.

#Liliana is like 46 to me you don’t understand #she is a young mother did she even want to be a mother????? #MENTAL ILLNESS DYNASTY #of course she pledged herself to the first person to have answers!!!! #ohhhh i hate her so much but you understand right??? her terror???? her need to flee??? #liliana temult #temults

[reccyls]

Hi🐷 When does William realize that he is in love with Kate? Has he had that type of relationship with other women?

Hello! I apologize for the time it took me to answer this question (and also apologize to the person who sent me a similar ask a while ago too). I was still in the middle of trying to grab some more of William's POV stories to try and pinpoint when exactly he realizes he's in love.

To be fair, I still don't have the exact answer, but my best guess is as follows:

He is not yet in love with her during chapters 13, which is more or less around the time that Kate realizes that she is in love with him. He still sees her as "one of the flock", I suppose I should say. One among many of the people who he has helped to realize their desires and be more free. She confesses her feelings in chapter 14 but he lets her down at that point.

Now, post chapter 14, William has to leave Crown for plot reasons so he departs from the castle on his own. He and Kate don't meet again until chapter 18, when she jumps in the way of someone trying to stab him.

I'm quite sure this is the start of a turning point for him. I'll need his POV to be exactly sure, but this is about the time when he starts referring to Kate as his robin, in particular.

But more than that is Kate's confession and pledge to him in chapter 19. Kate confesses again, but more than that, she's made up her mind, and she wants to do what her heart tells her to: to devote herself to William and to protect him. The only time he'll die is if she dies in the course of protecting him. Whether it's from his destiny, or wickedness, or justice, she doesn't care. This is what she wants to do.

This time when she confesses, William doesn't turn her away. Here's something different in his gaze when he looks at her. She still can't tell if he actually does think of her as someone special, whether he loves her in the same way she does him. But William, who would accept nothing from any of the people he saved, not even a single flower, had allowed himself to accept her life.

As for the second question (which, actually, someone else has also asked about and I have also been quite late in answering, whoops), I don't believe he's ever been in love with someone else, especially not to the point of him actually acknowledging those emotions and allowing himself to feel them freely. I'm quite sure he's slept with people before, he's too experienced to not have, and I'm very sure he'd have slept with others if that was their desire. But chapter 19 is the first time William allowed himself to accept something that his partner was offering. So, that's got to count for something, right?

#ikemen villains #william (ikevil)

[eikonbound]

He's awake! The Phoenix lives!

Everyone around Jote is rejoicing over the miracle that is the dominant's recovery. And she's excited for the news, too, of course. But that excitement is paired with a sense of dread for what is to come.

Joshua had been asleep for long enough that Jote began to wonder if she would ever have to truly interact with him. But it's been a little over a week now that he's been conscious. Thus far she hasn't spoken to or seen the dominant; she's been told that he needs time to process this new place he's woken up in and all that has transpired in Rosaria.

But now it's time to meet him face to face. Jote fears the knot in her stomach will never unravel -- she's utterly unprepared for this task.

What will aiding the Phoenix look like? Will he take kindly to having someone hanging on his every word? Will he dislike her right from the outset? How can she possibly offer him support after waking up to such tragic news?

The Undying exist for this very purpose -- to pledge their servitude to the Phoenix and ensuring that Joshua and the Rosfields as a whole are protected. This is all Jote has ever known. Her teachers assure her that she's prepared for it, but it's easy for them to say; they've never had the burden of an Eikon's safety crushing their shoulders.

With a gentle push to her back by her mentor, Jote gingerly opens the door to Joshua's room. The room is dimly lit and she has trouble making out his features at first. When he lifts his head and meets her gaze, Jote is struck by how much he does recognize the Phoenix - striking features and his orange-red head of hair. His nose comes to a slight point at the tip, reminiscent of a beak. His eyes are the most noteworthy part of his appearance. They’re a beautiful blue, like a perfectly clear and bright sky. But he looks haggard in a way a boy shouldn’t be able to appear. Jote can’t imagine how he must be feeling in the moment; his story is painful to merely hear, never mind experience.

She walks over sheepishly at first, but catches herself shrinking down. This isn’t what she was taught — how will the Phoenix be able to trust her if she hardly seems capable of handling herself? Jote corrects her posture, straightening her back.

Once she’s directly in front of him, Jote bows deeply, holding the pose for a beat before rising again.

“Your Grace, it’s an honor to make your acquaintance,” Jote says, deep reverence in her tone. “I’m Jote. I am to be your companion and protector."

She's sure that it's a lot for him to learn, and she doesn't enjoy being yet another person to pile information on top of him that he surely isn't prepared for.

Moving to sit on the chair beside his bed, she takes a moment to pause before speaking again.

"How are you feeling, Your Grace?" she questions, open to whatever answer she receives from him.

@flamesofrebirths

#flamesofrebirths #i hope this works for you! i had a lot of fun writing it!!

[songbirdtana]

(You know who this is lol) Put every idea you got about the Glee cast all going to high school in NY and Brittany becoming Spider-Girl on your blog. ❤️

This took me so long, but when I’m asked to share my au ramblings from the dm’s I gotta do it🥰

I’m gonna put this all under a read more because it’s so long💕

This isn’t even half of what was thought of for this au btw lmao and most of this is my unhinged ramblings but here we go

How Britt gets bitten:

Okay so during the deliberation on this au, there were 2 theories of how Brittany gets bitten put forth lmao

The first was that Brittany gets bitten while doing a lab tour (maybe for a scholarship program she was applying for, with her genius math brain) with her aunt *we’ll get to her in a minute*

The second was that Brittany was having a massive 16th birthday party at some big old venue or something and she goes to get away from the noise of everything. She ends up stumbling into an off limits/dusty room and gets bit. Santana finds her as she stumbles out. She insists she’s fine but when she wakes up the next morning and…uh oh👀

*OKAY SO Brittany’s aunt is the sort of uncle Ben/aunt May figure…so you know where this is going lmao

Brittany has an aunt who she was really close with. Maybe she was the only other person who seemed to share Brittany’s way of thinking, and was the only other queer person in the family who Brittany could confide in. She wasn’t close with the rest of her family so spent a lot of time with her aunt. Then one day…her aunt is tragically killed because she was just being boldly who she was. At this point, Brittany already had her spider powers but never used them for anything other than for fun. However, like spider-man lore, her aunts death motivates her to step up and go after the bad guys (she feels guilty that she hadn’t used her powers to save her) and pledges to protect the people like her and her aunt💕

Who finds out when and how?

Sam finds out first. He’s the big superhero nerd and is a big Avengers fanboy, so he immediately is noticing the classic signs of a friend hiding a secret identity. Brittany sneaks out of class one day and he follows her and catches her coming out of the back entrance to the school in her costume. At first, Brittany is terrified that he’s going to tell everyone, but he just begs to be her tech support guy in the chair😂 so he becomes sort of the Ned role of the team lmao

Then Rachel finds out. She only finds out because someone manages to get a video of spider girl singing and Rachel knows that voice. The girl prides herself on being trained to be able to distinctly pinpoint the details of someone’s singing - should she be in a blindfolded musical hostage situation lmao Rachel just will not let go of figuring this out and one day, Brittany sings in glee club and it all clicks. Of course, she then corners Brittany after class to confront her and Brittany’s so caught off guard that she reveals it all😅 Rachel doesn’t necessarily have an official team role but becomes the designated ‘distractor’ when Britt needs to get out of a social situation to go get into spider girl mode.

Santana finds out next and is livid that Rachel got to know before her😂 One theory of how she finds out came from the drama side of my brain😌 Santana’s really worried because Brittany keeps disappearing and avoiding her at times. Their relationship is just starting and she needs answers. So one day, Brittany stands Santana up again and she’s like “fuck this” and starts to leave where they were supposed to have their date. On her walk home she sees Spider Girl get into a fight in an alleyway and the bad guy gets away. Brittany is super beat up and, thinking she’s alone, takes off her mask to make sure her face isn’t messed up. They immediately lock eyes and it’s just dead silence for a few moments. Santana is initially upset to find out like this but pushes that down to go help make sure Brittany’s okay. Santana’s like “you could have told me, you know. I would have stayed.” And Brittany’s like “I needed to keep you as far away from this as possible. I’ve already lost someone I care about, I can’t lose the person I’m in lo- I can’t lose the person I’m in love with too.” And it’s just a sad yet mushy, romantic Brittana moment🥰

Kurt finds out because Brittany had been going to him for fashion/sewing help so she could make her diy costume. Then one night, spider girl sneaks into Kurt’s house and asks for help repairing a big tear in the costume and accidentally references something Kurt has only told Brittany before👀 He confronts her the next time they’re having a sewing lesson and Brittany blurts out everything. He almost immediately tells her that he’s making her a whole new costume because the one she made herself was so bad and he was cringing every time he saw spider girl lmao

And Quinn technically knew the whole time (she’s very observant) but never said anything until Brittany came and told her herself.

Recruitment to the avengers

So Brittany gets recruited to the Avengers shortly after the events of the first Avengers movie. She sees all the fighting and damage and decides that she has to do something, so puts on her suit and runs out. She holds her own pretty well with the og 6 and at some point (but only where just the avengers can see her) her mask gets torn and her identity is shown to them. The avengers had been keeping tabs on her for a while but never pinpointed her identity until now. Maybe Brittany also loses a couple people in the fighting, nobody she’s super close with but any loss hurts all the same. She isolates herself afterwards because she feels so guilty and won’t even talk to Santana about it. She spends almost every night on top of one of the taller nyc buildings just to sit in silence or yell or cry. Then one night, Tony tracks her down and talks to her about the life of a superhero and what that means - the good and the bad. He then formally invites her to at meeting at Avengers tower to talk about recruitment and mentions that the deal will include therapy to help her move forward and mentally survive this life🥺 He then offers to fly her back home because she’s too mentally drained to swing home safely, but instead of taking her to her place, she asks him to drop her off at Santana’s. Brittany climbs in Santana’s bedroom window, goes over to cuddle her and finally talks about her feelings over what happened with her💕

She’d have admiration for the og avengers members and maybe trains sometimes with Natasha, with mentoring from Tony, but I feel like her Marvel group would be some of the younger members.

Yelena and Brittany become really close friends. Yelena appreciates how normal being friends with Brittany makes her feel and even (once she’s warmed up a bit) asks Brittany to teach her some cheer moves and tell her all about Glee club, and she imagines that she got to be a regular high school girl with her🥺 However, it takes a long time for Yelena to get on with Santana because they can both be very similar and spend most of the time they’re in the same room insulting each other lmao

On the other hand, Kate Bishop becomes really good friends with Santana lmao They both meet in college and start hanging out/studying together and it isn’t until Santana comes to visit Brittany at Avengers tower one day that they realise another big thing they have in common lmao And Kate and Brittany have a great friendship cause I feel like they share similar vibes??

Finally, Kamala Khan is like a little sister figure to Brittany in the Avengers💕 Brittany takes her on trips to comic book shops (Santana sometimes comes with and Kamala jokes that they’re her nyc moms lmao) and will give her boy advice and how to navigate being a superpowered teen in high school. She feels like she’s taking on the role her aunt had with her and carrying on her legacy with helping guide the younger superheroes💕

*Disclaimer: I can struggle sometimes to write out long winded thoughts in a coherent way. So if most of this makes zero sense and is a grammatical mess - it’s my brains fault (adhd✌🏻) and I do apologise😅💕*

Also I’m probably never going to have the attention span to write this au out fully. So if anyone for some unknown reason gets inspired by this brainstorm specifically, pls pm me and give credit💕

#answered #anonymous #anon who I know - thanks v much you’re the best💕☺️ #glee #brittana #brittany s pierce

[diviner-alva]

3/30 - The way she accepts him

Well if you are familiar with my rambles and ted talks, you've seen me talking about how Kotallo was the first person Aloy accepted at least twice. The first posts might seem a little repetitive I know but we're just warming up for the follow up boys.

We see that she didn't just accepted him, but she straight up forced him to come along and help her take down the Bulwark, even though we know perfectly well she could easily have done it by herself. Yet she wanted his company, why? It's hard to say for sure, but I think it might have been because making Tekotteh suck it up was something she wanted Kotallo to have a part in, she knows too well how it feels to be humiliated and sneered at for something that's not your fault, I think that maybe she wanted Kotallo to be the one to put Tekotteh in his place, and he did with the "So send them now unless your word means nothing", "I didn't hear you". But who knows what she was actually thinking when she said that (your thoughts are more than welcomed in the comments, I like seeing different opinions because they drive me to reformulate mine).

About the cannon scene (hehe I will sneak that scene anywhere I can, as I should because it is pure gold) Aloy could've carried that cannon by herself, if you ever fight a tremortusk and remove the plasma cannon aloy will walk with it, slower than him yes, but she can carry it. But even if she couldn't, they could make her strap it on the back of a charger. The point is, she let him carry it for her, because she knew he needed to prove it to her and himself (but the way Aloy is, I was expecting her to be "I need no man to carry stuff for me", so tell me Aloy what was your goal here, you seemed very impressed with his strength for a minute there).

And finally the moment we all fell in love with Kotallo (I mean if you haven't already by the "That was an unkind comparison" or "I have a strong back" so let's say that this cemented the love) when he pledged his life to her, not her cause, her. He had no idea what was her mission, her goal, her obstacles and he threw himself fully at it anyway, this is mostly because she was so supportive of him during the bulwark, as I mentioned in the previous post. And you see the first reply she comes up is "but Hekarro needs you" she doesn't say "you don't know what I have to do" "this isn't a fight that can be won with martial prowess", she either never doubted that he would handle the focus just fine or she just wanted him with her since the beginning. She knows Hekarro needs his marshals, Kotallo being the most experienced of them, so she at first asks if Hekarro needs him, which of course he does but she's worried he is being sent away, discarded after the kulrut was done and more marshals were promoted, that's why Kotallo answers "It is what I choose". And after that she has no complaints, she just embraces his help and support so fully that I just think it's beautiful, they know what it is to be shunned and perhaps that's what made her just want to take him away from his tribe and along with her.

And the last one is a farewell at the base, I rarely see Aloy's voice so soft, he doesn't force his help upon her, just says that he's there if she needs, giving her space and independence, he believes she's more than capable on her own. He knows if it were with him, he wouldn't like people forcing themselves to help either, even before his arm, tenakth don't usually accept help after all. That deep mutual understanding they have is what's beautiful, is what made her answer sound so soft and thankful, that's what made be include it because I just think it's beautiful.

---

<- Previous post "2/30 -The way she admires him"

-> Next up "4/30 - The way they smile to each other"

#Kotaloy #Kotaloy compilation #aloy #kotallo #aloy x kotallo #horizon forbidden west #hfw

[violetsareblue-selfships]

Hello, everyone. I’m also going to answer a few questions about our beloved April. How could I resist the chance to talk about her? - Kazuha

10. What’s your favorite thing about s/i? Like in general.

That’s a little unfair a question... How am I supposed to pick just one thing about my favorite person, hmm? So, I shall give you two: one physical and one personality trait. Is that fair?

My favorite physical trait about her... has to be her eyes. I’ve been looking into her eyes throughout my life and they’ve always brought me such a sense of comfort. Plus, they’re super pretty - how many haikus have I written about them? I’m sure April has an answer to that. (Honorable mention would be her hair: I adore styling it, what can I say?)

For her personality... It has to be her loyalty. She’s stuck by me in times when I thought it would make sense for her to turn the other way. When I first set out to wander Teyvat, she went with me despite the risks and she’s stayed with me through everything. I am so lucky to have found her - to be the one that she pledged her loyalty to.

22. What’s your favorite thing to do with s/i?

Hmm... I suppose my absolute favorite is kissing her. We could spend hours together just the two of us, holding the other close. It’s even better if we’re in a secluded meadow with the warm sun beaming over us. Nothing could make me more content.

19. Thoughts or marriage? Is it your thing or nah?

Even since I was younger, the only person I could see myself marrying is her. There’s no one else important enough to me (and I don’t think anyone else could reach this level of importance - not that I’ll give them the chance to try, not while she’s still here.) I don’t think either of us are much for a large wedding, but I could definitely see it happening.

8. Can you list some of s/i’s favorites? Like their favorite movie, animal, season, color, etc. How much do you really know about them?

Of course I can. Her favorite animal is the wolf and then it’s a tie between dogs and foxes.

She has a few favorite colors, but the primary one is blue (though if you ask her at the right time, she might answer red since it’s the main one I wear).

Her favorite season is spring - more for the gentility of the sun during the warmer days (it’s not too hot, not too cold. she prefers colder temperatures than warmer since her vision grants her the ability to keep herself (and me usually) warm easier than it is to cool off - i try my best with my vision to cool her off in the hotter months).

Her favorite food is actually one we discovered on trip to Fontaine - it’s a cheesy pasta dish. She adores cheese of all different kinds.

For her favorite dessert (and she also adores desserts), it’s a tie between the mochi that we grew up eating and cupcakes. Though, she isn’t one to turn down desserts.

Is that enough favorites? I’d say I know more about her than anyone else except her and her parents. It comes with growing up alongside her. I also know how some of these favorites have changed over the years, but I won’t keep you here any longer.

#self shipping #self ship #f/o #romantic f/o #fictional other #f/ovember #f/o takeover #blanketed by autumn leaves💖🍁 #crow don't look #we're going to ignore the fact that this has been typed out for like a week+ #here - enjoy some soft kazu <3

[kalims]

Alright, I know that Zhongli x Mother!Reader is not canon (wish it was), but how would Reader react to the Fatui? Especially since three of their Harbingers have forcefully held their child down, forced them into a brutal no bars beat down, and tried to assassinate them? Basically wronged them in a way that would make any decent mother's hackles rise.

And how would the Fatui react to the Traveler's mother personally coming after them?

‼️MAY CONTAIN SLIGHT SPOILERS FROM INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST PART II ‼️

Ah, from the way you put it alone actually makes me realize how brutal and heartless the fatui is. Dear god, I think you've opened my eyes. I will forever admire the three harbingers, I believe that they own have their own story as to why they've pledged their loyalty to the tsaritsa but they currently seem like.. a bad guy which I live for! Mihoyo did such a good job writing them! Moving on no one cares about what I think, we all want out mother reader so let's move on!

I'd like to see that aether and lumine both seperately took on some of the mother's personality traits so in short, mother reader is usually reserved yet headstrong in a way. However mother reader IS the reader, so her personality can be any of what you visualize!

Before I continue, aether is somewhat the traveler mihoyo uses whereas lumine is the one he'd have to look for so let's go with that.

Mother reader would have a reaction any average mother would have after hearing that bad people are after her children/aether, she'd be of course angry. Her first instinct was to pummel them down and teach them a lesson as to what they'll be faced with once they initiate an action like threatening her kids once more.

Buttt, I also envision that she'd lose her senses. You know the feeling of being overcome by rage then you no longer have control over your actions? I think that's what she is.

Even you can't convince me otherwise that losing your own blood and flesh, a being that you've poured your sweat and tears into. Is the most painful thing a parent, no less a mother could feel. She just can't fathom a world without the twins! In a way she'd react somewhat violently. Even if she truly loved zhongli, the twins are her whole world. She'd crumble if she lost them.

The only way to stop her from losing her shit and going for the tsaritsa herself is if zhongli absolutely promised that he'd talk to the tsaritsa himself to stop their attempts on the twins life. In exchange for her to calm down, so kinda like a contract? You can't blame him! His natural instinct to solve problems like this is just to propose a contract as he always did.

As to what the fatui would react to?

I think they would no doubt be shaken by her anger, even if it's just a little. Who wouldn't? Mother reader goes batshit crazy once she just spots a fatui agent or something, her first action was to send them back to the tsaritsa to convey a message. 'Leave my kids alone or I'll come for you.'

The tsaritsa would be frustrated, a woman had been interrupting her plans again and again! Though she could tell that the little threat was no joke, said woman had been marching on fatui camps and beating them up. The cyro archon would have taken care of the problem herself but there's a doubt, the travelers always beaten her soldiers when they encountered them, they even held up to a fight with an archon! Who's to say their mother couldn't too?

SO YEAHHHH, it all stops once zhongli does his contract thing.

WHEWWW, that was so long. I actually enjoyed writing that! I hope that answers your question ;)

The contract from zhongli includes the tsaritsa needing to leave the kids alone while mother reader will in turn leave her organization alone too! I THINK?!?!?

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #zhongli x reader #zhongli #LMDOAJSKSS #childe #la signora #scaramouche #will you do the fandango #lumine #aether #YUH #⛩️ — INBOX

[mercy-burning]

Hangover Duty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader’s birthday party leads to some rather endearing drunk antics. Category: Fluff Warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption, mentions of the prison arc (is that a proper content warning? idk lol) (As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in content warnings! I always want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 4.4k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Funny story, I woke up at like 3 in the morning last night and just sat up and cranked this out in one go, unprompted. I’m not sure why inspiration struck that late (early?) but I’m rather proud of this one considering I just woke up to edit it a few hours ago 😂, I hope you like it!

***

Watching her gradually get more drunk as the night went on had to be the most amusing and incredibly endearing way to get back into the groove of things. It was nice, actually, being able to have a good time with his friends without constantly being reminded of what's happened in the past year.

Especially considering this year Spencer was determined not to miss Y/N's birthday. Last year he'd been in prison, and rather than being able to celebrate with her and their friends, rather than getting her a card or writing her a letter, she'd written him a letter that detailed in depth how she refused to celebrate until her best friend was there to celebrate with them. Of course he felt awful about the whole thing, and when JJ had dropped off the letters that week, he made her tell Y/N how sorry he was and how he wished more than anything that he could have been there.

And naturally, after dealing with Cat another time and settling his mom down, the first chance he got, he told Y/N himself.

She was in the hospital after that incident with Mr. Scratch. She was the first person he saw in the hospital, and she was fine, arguing with the doctors about leaving to help her team. But once he showed up, telling the doctors he could get her to sit down, they left, and he pulled her in for the biggest hug they'd ever shared.

And the first thing he told her was, "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

She'd only laughed and squeezed him tighter, replying with a short, yet simple, "Shut up."

He promised to himself then that no matter what happened, he would never miss another one of her birthdays again.

Since it was the first one since all that had happened, Spencer planned something a little extra special. Weeks ahead of time, he talked to Rossi about being able to rent out a bar for the night, Y/N's favorite bar to be exact. Just for themselves. As to be expected, it took a bit of convincing, but eventually they'd been able to successfully rent out the bar for one night, and though Rossi was insistent on paying everything, Spencer wanted to offer as much as he could.

Penelope, of course, insisted on putting up decorations. She roped Luke into helping her, and though he played off like it would be torture, for one thing he was happy to help celebrate his friend's birthday in any way he could, but he also was terrible at hiding the fact that he was more than happy to help Penelope with anything she needed, whether it actually pertained to the party or not.

Everyone told her they were all just going to meet up for drinks after work that day. Y/N was more than okay with it, explaining to them how she was just happy to be able to spend her birthday with her friends no matter where they were. They told her to meet at 7pm when in reality they would all be at the bar an hour and a half early to set up and make sure everything was perfect.

When Y/N actually showed up, Spencer had never seen her so radiant. Even as she was swarmed by Garcia putting on a pink party hat for her that promptly read "Birthday Girl", her hair slightly out of place because of its placement on her head, she was the perfect example of human perfection. She greeted everyone with a huge, beautiful smile accompanied by lots of 'thank you's and 'I love you's, and when she finally got to Spencer, he tried not t hold her to him for too long.

One of the reasons Y/N loved this specific bar was because of the karaoke machine. In fact, drunken karaoke was a decent weekly occurrence with the BAU, and while they'd been no strangers to the act, it only became more frequent when Y/N joined the team. For years now they'd spent many hours singing just as many songs as anyone could think of. And even while drunk, Y/N was a natural. She slipped up on words and slurred them together once in a while, sure, but her voice was easily the most impressive of the bunch, not to mention she never failed to get anyone and everyone to join in.

All that to say Spencer made sure they would be able to use the karaoke machine before they rented out the place. He even attempted to teach himself how to work it, but try as he might, he ended up calling on JJ to help him do it.

Throughout the night they all took turns singing songs, and at one point Y/N finished a song and made a speech, standing up on the bar. (Deep down Spencer was a little nervous that she would hurt herself, or that somehow the owner of the bar would find out that she'd broken one of many rules he had about renting the place out. But that was neither here nor there when he saw the glowing smile she had on her face, looking at all her friends with the most love and admiration he'd seen anyone carry in a while.)

"I'm jussali'l tipsy at the moment, so m'sorry if I don't make any sense," Y/N slurred together, obviously very drunk. Everyone laughed and she continued, clutching the microphone in one hand and placing the other over her heart like she was going to say the Pledge of Allegiance. "I jusneed to say how much I love y'guys. Thank you for celebratin' with me and makin' my birthday real special. I'mean, you fricken rented out a whole-ass bar! That's so nice!"

As she squealed out the last sentence, Spencer couldn't help the wide smile that broke out on his face. She was just so radiant, glowing with warmth and love and happiness and everything good in the world.

She was also struggling to get off the bar. He rushed forward to help her, and she fell forward, into his arms with a giggle.

"You okay?" he asked, his concern blowing away in the wind when she looked into his eyes with another winning smile.

"No thanks t'you," she answered, promptly 'boop'-ing him on the nose before she reached over to the bar and grabbed a full shot glass. After downing the drink, she brushed passed him with a slap on the butt and another giggle, right before she loudly asked Penelope to cut her another slice of cake.

Spencer knew she wouldn't have been so bold had she been sober, but the whole situation still made him feel all warm inside, like he'd taken a shot of whiskey himself.

Luke came up to him, clapping him on the back and snapping him out of it. "This mean you and the birthday girl are finally a thing now?"

"W—what? I don't know what you mean..."

He was obviously lying, and Luke could tell. He laughed a little, nodding towards Y/N, who was currently laughing with Emily and Penelope, a bright blue smudge of frosting on her nose. "She really missed you when you were gone, man. Even put her birthday on hold until she could celebrate with you."

"Well, we've been best friends for years, and she loves her birthday. It was... A hard year. It makes sense."

"Okay, that's fair, but do you know how bad it was? No presents, no birthday wishes, nothing. She demanded we act like it was any other day. And when I brought her a cupcake, she just set it on your desk and left it there. It sat there for about a week before she finally threw it out."

Spencer looked at where she was standing, eating more cake and swaying lightly to the music that was now playing over the speakers. "Really," he mused, not even thinking about it.

Luke sighed beside him. "Look, you can... believe what you want, but we've all noticed it. You two are practically inseparable, and the way I'm seeing you look at her right now tells me everything I need to know."

Even being called out like that, Spencer couldn't make himself look away. And even if he did, he wouldn't have really known what to say. Because all that was running through his mind at the moment was how right Luke was. How much he couldn't help but feel warm and safe when he was in Y/N's presence, and how she made him feel like the only person in the world sometimes.

He wondered then if maybe in the next day or two he should tell her how he felt.

One by one each member of the team eventually left the bar to go home. Each time one of them did, Y/N gave them the biggest hug and mumbled an abundance of 'thank you's and 'I love you's, much like at the start of the night, only this time her words were slurred and higher-pitched and very much laced with alcohol.

The only three people left at the end of the night were her, Spencer, and Emily.

Y/N came up between them and wrapped both her arms around their shoulders, pulling them in for a messy group-hug. "How'r we gonna clean this place up?" she asked dramatically, looking around once they all pulled away.

"I'm going to clean this place up," Emily said, giving Spencer a knowing look. "Since it's your birthday, your best friend here is going to make sure you get home safe and sound."

He definitely didn't see that coming, but somehow he felt like he should have. Regardless, he was more than happy to take the job. Especially when Y/N jumped up and down and threw her arms around him, giving a big old, "Yaaayyyy!" into his neck. She pulled away and gripped his shirt, bouncing on her feet with a large grin. "We can take my car and we can listen t'that CD I was tellin' you about and when we get t'my house we can have a sleepover!"

"Anything you want," he told her with a smile. "Go get your stuff together and we'll go."

As she wandered around the bar to find her shoes that she'd taken off somewhere along the line, Emily nudged Spencer with a smile. "She loves you, you know."

"She's drunk," he countered.

And as if on cue, right then she held one of her shoes up in the air with a triumphant gleam in her eye. "One down!"

"Okay, well, even when she's not drunk, she still loves you."

Though his heart swelled at the thought, he changed the subject. "You don't have to clean everything up. I was going to come back tomorrow morning and do it myself anyway."

"Eh, don't worry, I'm happy to do it." Emily nodded towards Y/N, who was walking around with one shoe on and picking up the other on the floor next to the cake table. "Besides, something tells me you're gonna be a bit preoccupied with hangover duty."

I wouldn't want any other job, he thought to himself.

And even though the nearly-impossible task of getting her into the car should have stressed him out (she kept getting out of the car as Spencer walked around to the driver's side, until finally he promised her a cheeseburger if she would stay), he still wouldn't have had it any other way.

They stopped at McDonald's on the way home, like he promised, and she was practically buzzing with happiness with the food in her lap. She made him sit in the parking lot and wait until she was done eating so she wouldn't spill anything. And in the dim light of the car, parked under a streetlight and watching her eat her food while she rambled on about the most random things, Spencer didn't think he'd ever felt more content.

He tried to keep her quiet as they made their way up the steps to the third floor of her apartment building. They were going to take the elevator but Y/N insisted it would eat her alive, and he quickly agreed to take the stairs as not to make a scene and wake everyone up with her crying. Her shoes came off again on the second flight of stairs, because she kept tripping and then laughing, pretending to fall back and almost scaring him to death.

Now he was unlocking her apartment door with her shoes in his other hand as she clung to his side. As soon as the door was open, she pushed past him and called out for her cat, Murphy. It didn't take long before the white cat jumped up on the counter to meet her, and she squealed and enveloped him in a crushing hug, picking him up and spinning around to meet Spencer, who was closing the door behind him and setting her shoes on the ground.

"Say hi to Murphy! He loves when you come to visit!"

It was true. Though he never really found himself fond of cats, as soon as he visited Y/N's apartment for the first time Murphy clung to him immediately. It didn't take long for the two of them to become as well acquainted as Y/N had been to either of them. Whenever he came over, Spencer liked to think of them as a small little family.

"Hey, Murph," he said, reaching out to pet the cat's head as he wriggled a little under Y/N's strong clutch.

She dropped him after shoving her face in his fur, and wasted no time taking Spencer's hand. "C'mon, I've got some vodka in the cupboard."

As she dragged him further into the kitchen, he squeezed her hand and tried to pull her to him, away from the cupboard. "Y/N, it's almost one in the morning, you need to go to bed."

She turned to face him and whined. "But it's my birthday, you can't make me."

"Well, technically it isn't your birthday anymore since it's past midnight. So, really, I can make you. Come on."

She whined again as he dragged her along to the bedroom. Once they got inside, he sat her down on the bed and reached out to pull off her party hat, which was lopsided and almost placed on her forehead like a unicorn horn. But when he touched the string, she grabbed his hand.

"I wanna leave it on," she said softly.

"It's not safe, you could choke yourself in your sleep," Spencer countered, brushing her hand away and taking the hat off. As his fingers brushed her cheek, she sighed and closed her eyes, a few seconds before letting out a little giggle.

"That tickled," she laughed as he set the hat on her bedside table.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he started to feel all warm again. "Sorry," he whispered, taking the time to memorize the way she looked right then. The curls in her hair had fallen flat, and her makeup was a little smudged, but the lazy smile on her face and the way she blinked up at him with her big, beautiful eyes would always be worth remembering. He could have stayed in that moment forever, just sitting in that comforting silence.

But alas, she was drunk, and unable to be quiet for more than ten seconds.

Y/N lightly poked him in the chest and laughed. "Hey, d'y'think Murphy ever gets tired?"

"I'm sure he does," was all Spencer said, trying to get her to lay down. She did so as she spoke, rambling on about what she thought her cat might have done when she was away at work. But she stopped talking altogether when Spencer tried to put a blanket over her.

"No," was all she said, kicking her legs up.

"You don't want a blanket?"

"No, I want you to be in the blanket with me."

He thought about it for a second before motioning for her to scoot over. "I'll lay with you for a little while, but you have to promise me you'll go to sleep, okay?"

She giggled triumphantly as he laid down beside her and draped the blanket over their legs. "I told'ya a sleepover would be fun."

Spencer reached out and lightly rubbed her arm, knowing that always got her to fall asleep. "I know you did."

But she didn't close her eyes. She was unusually quiet though, just silently staring at his face before she sharply pulled her arm away. "You're tickling me again."

"I thought you liked when I rub your arm, it helps you sleep," is all he said.

Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled it up to lay between them on the pillow, separating their faces. She placed it palm up and rolled up his sleeves so she could rub his forearm, too. Her touches weren't as light, but she giggled all the same. "Am I tickling you?"

He wanted to tell her the truth, which was that she was not tickling him, and it actually felt really nice. But because it might make her feel better, he lied, and told her, "Yes."

"Good," she laughed, moving her hand faster. Now she was just tracing his forearm with her middle finger like she might rub out a stain on the carpet, and Spencer tried to wiggle his arm away.

"Y/N..."

He didn't say it to be mean or irritated, in fact his voice was level and soothing as not to alarm her at all, but all the same she gasped and immediately pulled her hand away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"No," he reassured, moving a little closer to her. "You didn't hurt me, I'm ok—"

"Let me kiss it and make it feel better," she continued, ignoring him completely. Before he could stop her, she grabbed his arm and brought it to her mouth, pressing gentle lips to the crease of his elbow trough the fabric of his shirt, then moving the tiny kisses along up his arm until she made it to his wrist. She didn't stop there, continuing to kiss the palm of his hand and even along his fingers, right until she reached his fingertips.

He laid there, completely still and mesmerized as she flipped his arm over and worked her way down again, kissing the backside of his hand and keeping her lips pressed to his wrist for approximately four seconds. Then she flipped his arm over again and kissed the palm of his hand once more, repeating her many kisses until she got to his middle finger.

He should have seen it coming.

He was so caught up in the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin that it completely slipped his mind that she was still drunk. So when she wrapped her lips around his middle finger and sucked it into her mouth with a laugh, he pulled his arm away and sighed.

She actually cackled with laughter, slightly flailing her legs under the blanket. "Gotcha!"

"Ha-ha," Spencer deadpanned, wiping his finger on his shirt.

He wasn't really sure what to say once her laughter died down, but once he opened his mouth to suggest they try sleeping, she spoke first.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

He studied her for a moment. "You're not going to try anything funny, are you?"

She laughed, leaning forward and brushing her nose against his for the briefest of seconds before retreating and looking him in the eye. "I wouldn't dream of it."

There was no way he could say no. "Alright. I'll be back in a second."

Spencer got out of the bed and turned to leave, but she leaned forward and grabbed his hand. "Wait! I have to tell you a secret first."

If he stayed and listened to what she had to say, it was probably dangerous territory, because in the movies this was always the moment where there were drunken confessions of things you never wanted to say out loud, right? And he didn't want to do that to her, but realistically she was probably going to say something ridiculous about Murphy. Right?

Nonetheless, Spencer turned around and looked down at Y/N. "What is it?"

She pulled his hand, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "Come closer. It's a secret."

He leaned down, but she pulled him again. "Closer!"

Finally, he made his way down to her face, turning his head so she could whisper in his ear.

But she didn't. Instead he felt her press a kiss to his cheek, emphasized with a loud smooch-ing sound when she pulled away. He looked down at her to see the biggest smile on her face.

"S'all I wanted to say. You can go now."

He smiled back at her before nodding and leaving the room, his cheek and arm practically burning from where she'd kissed them.

And when he came back with her water, she was fast asleep.

***

More than anything she just wanted the banging to stop. But once she realized it was in her head, and it was there because she'd been drinking all night, her irritability was even worse.

"Fuck," Y/N grumbled as she struggled to open her eyes. When she did open them she found Murphy curled into a ball at the foot of her bed, his white fur a stark contrast to the deep maroon color of her comforter.

The next thing she noticed was the smell of something... burning? But there wasn't any sound to be heard other than the beating of her head, so she had to wonder if maybe somewhere outside there had been some kind of fire. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

She wasn't going to investigate, but then she heard her front door open, and despite the pounding in her head, Y/N sat up straight, almost scared out of her mind. Instinctively she reached beside her, knocking over a pink party hat in the process, and grabbing the baseball bat she kept there in between her bed and the table.

As quietly as she could, Y/N crept through the bedroom until she reached the door, pressing her ear against it to hear anything more. She heard plastic bags rustling around, and though that was fairly innocent in terms of menacing sounds, it still didn't quell the feeling that punched her in the pit of her stomach. Though, to be fair, she was certain a lot of that had to do with the copious amounts of whiskey and other liquor she drank the night before.

She took a deep breath before slowly swinging the door open and taking a few quiet steps into the hallway, just before she had to turn the corner to get into the kitchen. The noise got louder as she approached, and after taking another slow, deep breath, Y/N jumped out and held her bat out in front of her.

"FBI! What Are you doing in my house?"

"Holy shit!"

Spencer was standing in her smoky kitchen, clutching his hand to his chest. "Y/N, it's just me! Put the bat down!"

It clattered to the ground as she sighed out and shook her head. "What the hell, man, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Right back at you! I was just bringing you some breakfast..."

Y/N surveyed the kitchen and found that, sure enough, there were what looked like wrapped sandwiches on the counter. "Why is it all... burn-y in here? What happened?"

Spencer looked around nervously, his hands fumbling at his sides. "I, uh... tried to make you French toast. I know it's your favorite, and I know that greasy food is supposed to help with hangovers, so I tried to make some bacon, too, but it turns out that I really suck at multi-tasking in the kitchen, and I burned it all... So, I went with gas-station breakfast, which I figured was the next best thing."

The way he spoke reminded Y/N of a little kid who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to. He was extremely apologetic, almost in a way that made her think he thought she'd yell at him.

Now she remembered just a little of what happened the night before. She remembered drinking a lot and then Spencer taking her home, but she was so tired and out of it that all the little details weren't clear. Or present at all, really. All she knew when she looked at him in her kitchen right then, was that she'd never been more happy to see anyone while hungover. Especially since that someone happened to be her best friend and brought her breakfast.

She smiled and walked over to him. "That was really sweet of you, thank you."

Spencer looked down at her and smiled. "Sorry about scaring you."

"Eh, don't be. It was a good wake-up call," she laughed. "What would I do without you?"

He reached his hand out and brushed some of the hair from her face, at which she almost melted. "I think I should be asking you that question."

Something came to her mind just then, and she wasn't sure why. But she took the risk anyway, turning her head and kissing the inside of his palm.

"W—what was that for?"

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt right."

She didn't know how long they stood there, smiling at each other, but it felt different, like suddenly the air around them had shifted overnight into something palpably electric. And it's that energy that urged her to say something she'd been afraid to say for so long.

"Hey, I uh... I don't know if this is weird timing, and you can say no even though it was my birthday yesterday, don't feel pressured to say yes, but I—"

"Yes."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I don't care," Spencer said simply. "Whatever it is you want, it's yours."

"So, if... If I asked you to dinner tonight—"

"Yes."

Her stomach churned, but this time it had nothing to do with the hangover. The pounding in her head was more of a dull thrum now because the pounding in her heart overpowered it. And it grew even more intense when her best friend took a step closer, placing his hand to the side of her face.

"I wouldn't kiss me right now if I were you," she warned, tilting her head to the side. "Hangover breath is basically a bio-hazard, and you're going to completely rethink going out with me."

Spencer shook his head and leaned in even closer. "I don't care."

As he kissed her, she lost herself in him completely and came to the conclusion that he was the only hangover cure she would ever need.

***

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff

[capitainelevi]

38, 69, or 75 lol but pls do it post Rumbling if you can of course! i just can’t get enough of what their life would be like 😪

Thank you for your ask!! ❤️❤️

Drabble challenge: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece. "You leave whenever you feel like it.", “Mind if I join you?”, and “I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”.

Home Once the war ended, there was no need for Petra to ask: Levi would always choose to spend his remaining days by her side. Petra helps Levi heal while they look forward to brighter days. Canon universe. Word count: 2577

She had always been by his side.

Over time, Levi assumed that it would always be that way. He got comfortable as the years went by, despite the danger surrounding their lives. Petra had been his shadow for years, his right hand, to the point where she became an extension of him. The threats they faced together, the sadness, and the loss they shared, consolidated an unbreakable bond between them. Levi trusted Petra with his life, as did she.

Petra was the only one left. The last one to stay by his side. And he was about to lose her.

Sensing death surrounding her, Petra gave her captain a heavyhearted smile. The last thing she would have wanted was for his last memory of her to be of her shedding tears. There was no chance for them after all, no happiness to be found. Not after all they had done. Petra whispered- "Heichou... goodbye." as her vision went black.

Petra opened her eyes abruptly, terrified of the images still floating in her memory. Had she been a titan? No, it must have been a nightmare. Was it even a nightmare? Petra ran her fingers through the pebbles, trying to grasp herself onto reality. The last memory she could recall was of the heartbreak written all over Levi`s face as he silently bid his farewell.

As the mist surrounding her started to fade, Petra caught a glimpse of her captain, standing against a rock, with tears running down his cheek. A feeling of relief washed over her as she crawled her way to him, her legs too weak for her to stand on. Petra threw herself in his arms, squeezing him in a tight embrace, trying to convince herself that it was all real. That they had made it. Feeling Levi`s arms wrap around her trembling form let her tears run freely down her cheeks, and Levi let her cry against his neck.

"Is this over?"

Levi ran his hand up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her, not being able to grasp what Petra must have felt just mere minutes ago. He was still wary about it all being over. They had known nothing but fighting for survival for all those years, and he could not grasp the idea of peace.

"I don`t know."

Levi could not recall the events leading up to him laying on a hospital bed with Petra asleep in a chair next to him. Embraces, more tears, people yelling, Petra clinging to his neck, the way to the hospital, they all felt like a dream. Was Eren truly gone?

"Heichou, you`re awake."

The first thing Levi observed was the tiredness written on her face, the dark circles surrounding the hopeful look in her eyes, and he wondered just how long he had been asleep. He just nodded at her, his throat too dry for him to form any words. As if reading his thoughts, Petra put the water cup against his dry lips, and he nodded again in thanks.

"Everyone came to visit, but you`ve been out for three days."

Without giving it a second thought, Levi worded the first thing sitting on the tip of his tongue- "Is Eren gone?"

Petra just nodded, feeling grief wash over her at the image of the hopeful boy that looked up to her for guidance all those years ago. The boy that she involuntary helped massacre most of the world population.

"Did he come to you, Heichou?"

That was no surprise to Petra. Eren must have known there was nothing he could have said to the both of them that would convince them that his actions were the right ones. Nothing that would make the two of them feel like their squad`s sacrifice to protect him had not all been in vain.

"I think there is no need for formalities anymore, Petra. I`m retiring.”

Petra felt a wave of nostalgia hit her at his words, but she supposed she should have expected that. She tried not to let anxiety overcome her as the thoughts of his imminent departure took hold of her. Petra gathered all her courage to ask him about his future. Their future, she hoped.

"I suppose you`re right, Levi. What will you do now?"

Levi took his time to answer, but at the end of it, he was sure of his decision. There was no turning back for him. No regrets.

"Paradise`s not home for me anymore."

Petra was aware of the lump forming in her throat at hearing his words, troubled by the idea that the home they sacrificed so much to protect could not be called home anymore by the person she admired the most. But at a careful reflection, Petra was unsure if she had that same devotion towards Paradise as the first day she pledged her life to protect it. She tried to keep the tears at bay, at the thought of a life without Levi in it.

"Petra, you don`t need to ask. You already know this."

She had trouble containing the smile forming on her lips as a sense of relief washed over her. Her captain knew her so well. Not my superior anymore, she had to remind herself. Now that their mission was over, Petra hoped that something beautiful could blossom between the two of them, but she was content just by being by his side until the end of their time. Her love for Levi had always been strong, and while she knew feelings were not his forte, Petra saw that at the very least, Levi cared deeply for her.

"Where will we go?"

Levi just shrugged, the idea of a future still strange for him. He never expected to make it out of the war alive, and now, he had something to look forward to and someone to accompany him along the road. He was pleased Petra was going to be by his side, even if for a little while. But at the same time, his heart was conflicted. She deserved better than anything he ever had to offer her. But he would not take the choice away from her.

"Marley`s not a shithole, at least. It can be a start."

Petra listened to Levi debate what choices they had by himself while her thoughts were occupied with the words she needed to put together in her letter to her father. Her father had always been supportive of her choice of joining the military, and Petra prayed she would also be supportive of her following her heart this time.

Their conversation was cut short as the doctor entered the room, and when Petra tried to leave to give them privacy, Levi stopped her. He felt like she needed to know what his future struggles would be. Petra was relieved when the doctor emphasized how lucky Levi had been not to have a spinal injury, but the damage to his leg was still severe. She made a silent promise to him that she would be there by his side through his rehabilitation, no matter how much that took.

Petra let him rest as she went to get everything ready for their departure, leaving an agitated Levi behind her. "You can`t do all this shit by yourself."- he had argued with her, but she declined his offer to help her. As soon as the door closed behind her, Petra grinned, overjoyed at the idea of a future with him, even if that meant putting up with his foul mouth for many years to come.

As soon as Levi was well enough to leave the hospital, they both presented their resignation to their queen, anxious to put that life behind them. It made Levi`s stomach churn at being called a hero, but for Petra`s sake, he just kept quiet while the military praised their actions. Levi squeezed his fists so hard he could feel his skin bleeding thinking of all the countless lives that were lost in vain. That he indirectly played a part in. One look at Petra, and he knew she felt the same as him.

They both preferred the quietness of countryside life and using their savings, along with the money they accepted from Historia after many arguments they were able to afford a small house, comfortable enough for the two of them. But the surprise came when they started working on redecorating the house, and Levi popped a question which made her drop the paintbrush from her hand.

"How do you feel about kids?"

Petra`s mouth fell open, unsure of what to make of his question and the indifference plastered on his face as he asked her something she dared not think about. She had always loved children, but the military life she chose and motherhood were two dreams that she felt she could not achieve together. Petra tried not to get ahead of herself and picture holding a baby with her amber eyes and his raven hair in her arms before she knew what he meant.

"I haven`t given much thought about it, but I`ve always loved children."

Levi shook his head, frustrated at his lousy wording. He had hoped Petra would have picked up on his request. "Not kids. Teenagers."

"Teenagers?"

As Levi talked about Gabi and Falco losing their families and how, while they were still brats, they were still good enough kids who could come live with them, Petra could not help but smile. She had made a good choice. Levi Ackerman was a good man through and through. They welcomed the children into their new home as soon as the house was ready for them. Having the kids there, it gave them purpose.

But the next weeks had been hard on all of them, as Levi`s rehabilitation process was going to be long and hard on him. The wounds he suffered took a toll on him, as he went from being Humanity`s Strongest Soldier to someone with not enough strength to use a crutch yet, all in a matter of days. But Petra was determined to help him through it as best as she could.

Their days were filled with frustration, yelling, and cusses, and their nights were silent, with only the ghost of their former comrades and friends keeping them company. When the children asked if Levi was alright, Petra tried her best to put on a smile and explain to them that it was hard for him, but they would overcome it together. She had to believe that.

It was a particularly rough day when Levi finally snapped at her. His leg hurt like a bitch, his arms were sore, and he was tired of Petra`s optimism. He wished he could take the crutch and put all his frustrations and anger in it and use it to smash everything in the room to bits.

"I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!"

He regretted the words coming out of his mouth instantly as he saw Petra`s face twist in hurt. She left the room without taking a second glimpse at him, and when he tried to yell for her to come back, he had no words for her. Sometimes, Levi thought he must have been doing it on purpose, pushing her away in the hope she could chase the life that she deserves. Petra was the best woman he had ever met, and he had nothing to offer her. Nothing but anger and frustrations. He pictured her alongside a handsome, tall husband and a child in her arms, and he regretted keeping her by his side even more.

But Petra had never complained to him. No matter how many words he threw at her, how angry he was at life and himself, she never answered back, and she never blamed him for his roughness. He truly felt like he never deserved her.

Gathering all the courage he had left, Levi went to look for her and attempt to apologize to her, but he knew there were high chances he would mess that up as well. Levi once again wondered how Petra put up with him. He found her working on her candles, a hobby Petra had gotten into since they moved into the cabin. The villagers were ecstatic when Petra opened up a stand for Sunday market, and Levi had to admit he enjoyed the fresh smell her candles brought to the house.

"Mind if I join you?"

Petra just nodded, but she chose to work in silence while he watched her. Her eyes widened in surprise when he asked if he could help her, and while she was unsure of his crafting skills, they needed to put their fight behind them. She understood how hard it was on him, but she was at a loss in how to handle him. But she was confident in her decision to stay by his side, no matter what.

As expected, Levi had managed to make a mess of their kitchen in an instant, and Petra burst into laughter when his eye twitched at the sight. She knew an unexperimented Levi and candle making in his kitchen would be a recipe for disaster, but it was well worth it. Even with the chaos they now had to clean up. Hearing her laughter for the first time in months made him realize how much he had missed it.

"I`m sorry, Levi, I don`t think my clients would appreciate the products."- Petra giggled as she examined the attempted candle.

"Then they have shit taste."

They cleaned in silence until Levi cleared his throat to get her attention. Petra waited for Levi to gather his thoughts, and when no words came out of his mouth, she took hold of the conversation. She never wanted him to feel bad about what had happened.

"We don`t need to talk about this, Levi. It`s okay"

But his next words took Petra by surprise- "You leave whenever you feel like it."

Petra didn`t raise her sight from the floor as she barely whispered- "What would you have me do?"

Levi felt his blood boil with anger at seeing the woman he cared for more than he would ever admit put up with him. He both wished for Petra to leave him and stay by his side until he drew his last breath.- "Anything, Petra. I deserve it. Fucking yell at me, get angry, fuck, even leave me. Go be happy."

Petra tried to contain her sorrow, but she could feel the tears running down her cheeks. She wished Levi would see she would never find happiness without him by her side.

"But I am happy, Levi. I just want to stay with you."

"Stupid girl."

But it was her choice, and he was not going to push her away. Seeing Levi smile at her for the first time in months only made her cry harder, and she threw herself in his arms when he called for her. Levi let her cry for as long as she needed, the mess in the kitchen soon forgotten.

They spent the rest of the evening in front of the fireplace, with a cup of tea in hand. Levi thought it was about time he asked the question, and he put his cup down and straightened his back.

"Maybe we should open up a teashop."

Petra was adding more wood to the fire, but Levi could feel her smile as she answered- "I think I`d like that."

ao3

#ahh sorry for the delay I`ve been a bit busy #rivetra #petra ral #rivetra fanfiction #rivetra fanfic #my writing #I hope you like it!!

[argisthebulwark]

You should do kiss prompt 19 "One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss" for Brynjolf cuz I think it would be so hot is tld kissed him but they weren't sure he felt the same way cuz lately he's been avoiding them only for them to not even get to finish the sentence cuz he kissed them back so eagerly

incredible solution to him ignoring tld thank u. prompt post.

brynjolf/female ldb. the guild celebrates the skeleton key being returned and some drunk idiots admit their feelings. 

content warning: sexual themes, alcohol consumption. minors dni. 

“One, two, three, drink!” 

The Dragonborn squinted against the burn of alcohol in her throat, trying to hide the shivers it sent through her. She’d never been one for straight liquor but had been invited to celebrate the status of the Guild taking its rightful place of influence in Skyrim once more. The recruits didn’t need to know that it had taken three souls devoted to Nocturnal and a horrifying trek through the Twilight Sepulcher to achieve, all they had to know was that she’d finished it. 

“Guild Master, you’re looking a bit tipsy.” Vex commented, sending Delvin into a fit of laughter. She grinned at the comment, choosing not to remind her that they were all tipsy. Dirge kept a watchful, sober eye on the thieves from a distance as they repeatedly gave cheers and speeches congratulating themselves for the return of the Guild. Even the Face Sculptor nursed a drink in her seat. 

“Don’t say that Vex,” Brynjolf cut in, cheeks rosy when he looked in their direction. The Dragonborn saw him bite his lip and felt the familiar ache rising in her stomach. She’d wanted him for so long, allowing herself long glances of him in the Nightingale armor not enough to sate how badly she wanted him. “She’s pretty when she smiles, don’t ruin it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything.” Vex shot back, sliding her empty cup to Vekel. “At least you finally admitted you think she’s pretty.” 

The Dragonborn stared down at her hands, cheeks burning at their words. Yes, she wanted him - but each time she’d attempted to talk to him, to rekindle the friendship they’d built for so many months, he’d brushed her off with a comment about having more important things to attend to. She knew that it was nothing more than an excuse and that somehow made it hurt worse. 

Nothing had been the same after Mercer had betrayed the Guild. Brynjolf’s entire life had been upturned and he’d grown cold, withdrawing from those around him. He didn’t work with the new recruits, didn’t even work with her anymore. He clearly had more important things to do and she felt foolish every time she remembered how many times she’d tried to talk to him. 

“Of course she’s pretty, isn’t that why Brynjolf plucked her off the street?” Delvin added, making the Dragonborn wish she was sober. When she was sober she could banter with them, could hold her own conversationally. When she was drunk she felt like a foolish girl who wanted nothing more than for Brynjolf to sweep her off her feet and pledge his love for her. 

“Shut up old man.” Brynjolf shot back, some of the playfulness gone from his tone. At least she wasn’t the only one embarrassed by the comment. “Sure she’s pretty, but she’s also a better thief than any of you lot. Obviously I was right.” 

“Let’s give the Guild Master a break before her cheeks burst into flames.” Vekel cut in and the Dragonborn could have kissed him. His blessedly kind voice redirected the conversation to the latest shipment of skooma coming in through the Windhelm docks, sending the thieves into riotous arguments over who could get to it first, which of the recruits they should bet on. The Dragonborn nodded her thanks to him before sliding Vekel a pouch of gold to cover their drinks. 

“So,” Karliah plopped into the open seat by the Dragonborn. “Why haven’t you gone for it yet?” 

“He doesn’t feel the same.” The Dragonborn shot back, surprised by the sharpness of her tone. “He’s made that clear.” Karliah snorted as she took the Dragonborn’s drink. 

“Clearly you’re drunk if you think that.” 

“It’s been made abundantly obvious. He’s been brushing me off for weeks.” 

“Have you asked him?” Karliah’s brow arched up as she observed the rest of the thieves. “Directly?”

“No, I think I’ll pass on public humiliation.” 

“Fine.” Karliah turned and hopped back out of her seat. “Brynjolf, switch seats with me. I need to speak with Delvin.” 

“Sure, lass.” Brynjolf agreed and the Dragonborn thought her face would burst into flames. He lowered into the seat beside her, clapping her on the back as he sat. “I wanted to talk to you, anyway.” 

“About?” She avoided eye contact, staring intently at the wall over Vekel’s shoulder. 

“Sorry about that ‘pretty’ comment.” His hand stilled on her back, remaining there. She didn’t want to ruin the moment but could feel herself awaiting the usual comments about having more important things to do than speaking with her.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“Not that I don’t think you are,” he sucked in a deep breath before continuing and she braced herself. “I just, I know it’s inappropriate for me to think of you that way but I can’t help it, and sometimes when I look at you -”

“What?” She rounded on him, stunned. He was smiling at her reaction as surprise cleared her anxious brain. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m sorry I said that in front of everyone. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward. It’s just, I can’t look at you sometimes because I know it’s not right for me to feel that way about you when I’m the one that recruited you -”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. The Dragonborn flung herself forward into his hold, lips meeting his as her arms tangled around his neck. She felt his arms steadying her but she didn’t care if they fell, didn’t care about anything other than the heart exploding in her chest and the feel of his lips on hers. He tasted like liquor and ale when he kissed her and she wanted to melt into his hold. He was even better than she’d imagined. 

The ecstasy of kissing him subsided when she remembered each time he’d told her that he was sorry, that he was too busy, that she wasn’t important enough. Even as he nipped at her lower lip she felt herself withdrawing at the memory of being ignored by him.

“I’m sorry.” She pulled back, wiping a hand across her lips. She couldn’t stop thinking of all the times he’d ignored her or brushed her off, the shame she’d felt when he clearly had better things to do than talk to her. Maybe she’d misunderstood. “I’m sorry, do you even want this?” 

“Oh, lass. More than you know.” He chastised before kissing her again. She was practically crawling into his lap when he kissed her deeper than before, tongue and teeth turning her backbone into putty. His hands roved through her hair, down her back, over her hips, everywhere. It was passionate and full of promise, a filthy kiss that left her lips swollen and her heart racing. 

“I think it’s time our honorable Guild Master got some rest.” Brynjolf taunted against her lips, an arm tightening around her waist. She was giddy at the thought of him in her new bed, her new chambers. She felt steadier on her feet as she followed after him, fingers laced with his and lips still tingling from his kiss. 

“What were those important things you had to do?” She forced herself to ask once they were alone. He smirked at her, drawing her closer until his nose brushed against hers. 

“Distracting myself.” He admitted, sending her heart into a frenzy. “Trying to avoid thinking about how badly I wanted you.”

#brynjolf #skyrim #anon #asks #writing #minors dni #not exactly smut but has suggestive themes #tw: alcohol consumption #tw: sexual/suggestive themes

[willowandfog]

Taking Flight

Summary: Kagome has been struggling with her disability most of her life but she's never felt anything but normal with Inuyasha always steadily by her side. But when her neurologist approaches her with the chance to recover full use of her leg, she takes it.

A childhood friends to lovers, soulmates AU

Read on AO3 or Below the Cut

Sorry this is a day late, work got in the way and I literally fell asleep at my desk yesterday trying to write this chapter ^.^

See you soon for chapter six, first date!

Kagome would never let Inuyasha find out about the fact that she had brought work with her. It really needed to get done, and even though she was technically already on vacation she felt responsible for it. Besides, she knew that she would need the distraction it would bring. She was staying with her mother, Inuyasha and herself had reluctantly agreed to sleep apart for the night. 

Stupid tradition. She thought. It’ll be good for you guys, they said. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they said. 

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed. Leaning back she tried to loosen her shoulders and relax a little further into the tub. She would admit that it had been nice to just sit and have some girl time over a lovely dinner with her mother and Izayoi, and her grandfather adding in cheeky commentary every now and then. Steam rose from amongst the lavender scented bubbles as Kagome closed her eyes and shifted her head, trying to get her neck into a more comfortable position, the loose tendrils that framed her face growing damp from the brief dip into the tub. 

The tension in her body began to melt away and she hummed in appreciation. 

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

Inuyasha was in a daze as he sat on their comfortable tan couch. He was in Kagome’s normal spot because it held her scent more than anywhere else, other than the bed; but he decided he wasn’t going to be that guy, laying in bed missing her, yet. The television was on but he wasn’t paying attention, he was missing her; he’d been away from her before, obviously. But never like this, not in a long time, not since they had both turned eighteen and moved into the apartment together. They spent their work days apart but they always, always were together while they slept. It helped soothe them both, him more so with his youkai instincts screaming at him to bond with her. When she was safe and content in his arms he was settled, he was at peace with himself, mostly. He found that the youkai was most quiet when he was being intimate with Kagome and they had been abstaining from that for the past week. 

He sighed, throwing his head back. He felt like there were bugs crawling under his skin, like his youkai was going to claw out of his body and rip the door off its hinges and go find its mate. He knew where she was staying, of course; she was spending the night at her mother’s, but knowing he wouldn’t see her till tomorrow afternoon, and the thought of sleeping without her was driving him crazy. A knock on his door snapped him out of his stupor. 

Kagome! No, stupid, Kagome wouldn’t need to knock. 

With a sigh, he rose to answer the door. When the door swung open he let out an audible groan.

“What do you guys want?”

“Greetings, my liege. Thy fair maiden has bestowed upon us a quest.” Miroku grinned at him as he presented his arm full of liquor bottles. 

“What the hell are you talking about and why are you talking like that?”

“Because he already started drinking in the car and you pick the weirdest friends.” Kouga stated from his position behind Miroku, arms folded across his chest.

Inuyasha sighed. “So why are you guys here?” He stepped to the side to allow them inside.

“Thy maiden-”

“No.” Inuyasha said as he closed the door. “You, speak.” He pointed to Kouga before crossing his arms and continuing. “Why are you here? I’m not great company right now.”

Kouga raised a brow as he ventured over to the couch, just as he was about to sit Inuyasha let out a fierce growl.

“I don’t think so, wolf.” Inuyasha spoke through gritted teeth. “You will sit over there.” He pointed to the armchair. “Don’t think I don’t know why you zeroed in on that spot.” Inuyasha went over and sat in the spot Kouga had tried to claim. 

Kouga rolled his eyes before moving to the chair. “Kagome sent us over as the idiot said. She thought it would be best if you had friends over to help you make it through the night. Well technically she said ‘could you guys go over and have a guys night, Inuyasha might have a tough time by himself.’”

Inuyasha’s heart ached and he found himself rubbing a hand across his chest. Of course she would make sure he wasn’t alone without her. She was the most amazing, thoughtful person in the world. She was so sweet, kind, and never selfish. She should never have to do anything for herself, she should be taken care of, always. 

Inuyasha suddenly stood, he had to go to Kagome, she might need him. He had almost reached the door when Kouga was blocking the way, holding a hand up as if that would stop him. 

“Move. I’m going to Kagome, screw this sleeping apart shit.” 

Kouga didn’t move. “Come on, Inuyasha. It’s just one night, Kagome is safe at her mother’s and you’ll see her tomorrow. You’re getting married tomorrow, the next time you see her she will be walking down the aisle to pledge herself to you. You’re a man, not a wild animal, pull yourself together.” 

Kouga rested his hands on Inuyasha’s shoulders and turned him around, giving him a nudge back towards the couch. “Now go sit, let Miroku pour you a drink and we can hang out and be bros or whatever.”

Miroku handed Inuyasha one of the bottles of bourbon he had set on the coffee table before sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“Really?” Inuyasha questioned him, sitting. “You think trying to get me drunk will help with my decision making and that I might feel less like shit about the fact that she’s not here?”

Miroku shrugged. “Nah. Just thought a little might help you relax. Try not to be so aggressive, your mate is fine, you’ll see her tomorrow, and for now you sit and relax and hang out with your friends.”

Inuyasha sighed as he twisted open the bottle and took a swig. “So why are you here? We aren’t friends, acquaintances at best.” 

Kouga let out a chuckle. “‘Cause Kagome and I are friends, and she asked me to come over. She wanted someone that would be able to help in case you went all crazy youkai on Miroku trying to leave the apartment.”

“Ok, ok. Fine. I know that this is something that Kagome agreed to, and she obviously wants to stick with it, so I’ll try my best to reign in the urge to bolt out of here. Pick up a bottle Kouga, let’s get drunk.”

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

Kagome sat on the guest bed, back propped up against the headboard, her comfortable Slytherin pajama bottoms on paired with one of Inuyasha’s shirts that was far too large on her small frame. Her damp hair was thrown into a messy bun on top of her head and she had her work laptop in her lap. As she typed furiously away on her computer her mind kept trying to wander. She wondered if Inuyasha was holding up ok, knowing that this separation would be harder on him with his need to bond. 

Checking the time, she knew that Miroku and Kouga must be there by now, she hoped they were distracting him. She contemplated texting one of them to make sure they were over there and that things were going alright, but decided against it since she knew that Inuyasha would have a harder time if he knew she was worrying over him. She was briefly curious to know what they were doing to occupy their time but decided against that line of thoughts so she tried to focus back on her work. 

When she found her thoughts straying again sometime later, she closed her laptop on a huff. Climbing from the bed, she placed her laptop back into her bag before making her way to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. As she was brushing her teeth she thought about Inuyasha, and how he had always placed her needs first. Hell, he had built his life around her, his career was even chosen for her benefit. Wanting to be able to take care of her the best that he could, he had gone into physical therapy, spending years in school and gaining his doctorate. 

The surgery she had undergone had worked as well as could have been expected, she could mostly walk correctly, she had a noticeable limp at times but never required her crutch, and when her leg would get sore or start cramping up, she would just wear her leg brace and everything would be fine. Now that she didn’t need constant therapy, she wondered if Inuyasha would think or want to change specialties. She hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with him about it yet, with her healing and rehabilitation after the surgery and with the upcoming wedding, but she made a note to do so soon. 

She would be forever grateful that he had chosen a physical therapy career, but it also caused her some guilt every now and then. He had picked his path because of her; if she hadn’t had her stupid injury, would he still have gone down that road? She didn’t think he would have, and she would make sure that he knew how much she loved him for his decision but that he didn’t have to stay in a career that he didn’t enjoy, especially if there was something else he would rather be doing. 

She snuggled under the covers, tugging the extra pillow over to cuddle with, wishing once again that she was back home with Inuyasha. 

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

“I still can’t believe you tried to kiss her!” Miroku burst into another round of hysterical laughter, almost toppling off his seat. “You’re so lucky,” he sucked in a breath between his laughs, “that Kagome is so soft-hearted. Inuyasha,” more laughter escaped him, “Inuyasha would’ve killed you!”

Kouga tried to resist Miroku’s contagious laughter but couldn’t, finding himself chuckling even as he glared at him. “Well, i-s was worth it; I was a hair's breaths away from being Kagome’s fir-rsst kiss. If I would ‘ave kissed her and died as a result, it would have been worth it.” 

Inuyasha growled. “Watch it.”

“What?” Kouga gasped in feigned disbelief. “You should take that as a compl-lment. Your mate is highly dessirable and she wants only you. If the roles were r-reversed here, and gods do I wish they were, I’d be rubbing it in your face. If I got to touch that perfects body, and kiss those lus-...luscious lips and smell her delicious c-”

Inuyasha pounced, tackling Kouga from his spot on the edge of the chair and rolling with him to the ground. They rolled over one another over and over, both trying to get the upper hand, both too drunk and uncoordinated to function well. 

“Here’s an idea,” Kouga said between the rolls, “we should hav-a rematch, winner getsss to marryy ‘Gome tomorrow.”

Inuyasha jumped to his feet, swaying, and put his fists in the air. “You got it. Y-your’s so going dow..n” He tilted his head as if confused by his own words. “Kick yooour ass again.”

Kouga slowly rose, using the back of the chair for balance. “Dream on, doggie...dog boooy.” 

When Kouga took a wavery step towards Inuyasha, raising his own fists, a loud snore snapped both of their attention to the couch. Miroku lay sprawled out on the couch face down, arm dangling off the side, empty bottle dangling from his fingers. 

Inuyasha dropped his arms and straightened. “Better idea. I go lay on ‘Gome’s sside of the bed, and dream ‘bout how ‘morrow she’ll be my wife and my soul bond-ded mate.”

“Nooo.” Kouga whined as Inuyasha stumbled towards the bedroom. “Come back, fight. I wanna marry ‘Gome.”

“Dream on, wolf.” 

As Inuyasha dropped face first into the bed, he pulled Kagome’s pillow close, snuggling his face in deep as he held it tight to his chest. He breathed in a deep breath of her scent, missing the chirp from his pocket, as he quickly succumbed to his drunken sleep. 

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

Kagome laid there, staring into the darkness, realizing that she couldn’t sleep without the sound of Inuyasha’s soft snoring and his warmth surrounding her. She groaned at herself as she felt the beginnings of tears start to form, swiping at her cheeks when they escaped. Giving in, she rolled over and grabbed her cell phone from the night stand. Rolling back into her spot, she sent a text to Inuyasha, telling him that she couldn’t sleep and that she thought hearing his voice might help.

She lay staring at her phone, waiting for almost an hour before she decided that he must have gone to sleep already. Putting Friends on the television, she laid on her side and hoped that sleep would come soon. 

@ruddcatha @superpixie42 @dawnrider @smmahamazing @bluejay785 @lavendertwilight89 @mamabearcat @fawn-eyed-girl @clearwillow @i-dream-of-soup @liz8080 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs

#inukag #inuyasha x kagome #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inukagfluffweek2021 #inukagfluffweek day 5 #pining

[nemycchi]

Among the Stars

A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction

General Rating

Angst, Love, Family, Betrayal, New Beginnings

Maybe, in another life, this was not how things would have ended.

Lumine likes to think that that is the case. That somewhere out there—across the stars she once traversed, across the worlds she once explored, a version of herself is living contentedly. Maybe in a quaint house filled with various trinkets from her adventures, maybe even in a big mansion overflowing with memories of her conquers—the details do not matter, as long as it is a home.

As long as it is with him. As long as it is with them.

She pulls at her crimson scarf—worn-out from years of use, both from her and its previous owner, as the winds of Snezhnaya blows harder, sharper and colder against her skin. She should be well-acquainted by now to this harsh weather seemingly ever-present in this region of Teyvat from constant visits but she shrugs it off as the lack of warmth reminds her of the years that went by.

Ah, there it is again. That fleeting feeling—like a thief in the night, sneakily closing in when your guards are lowest. Kind of like how he easily slid into her life unabashedly, taking her world by storm—

And apparently leaving with a destruction of the same magnitude.

But she guesses that she should be thankful—for he left something to remember him by. Far more important than anything she has right now, far more important than she is and will ever be.

Lumine sighs deeply. It seems like her old friend—a ghost of tantalizing blue eyes and soft touches, is back again to prompt her to spiral back down into the abyss—into the void she so desperately avoids recalling lest she forgets the present, which is far more important now that she is not on her own anymore.

So, despite the turn her thoughts took, she smiles. Though she thinks he would be disappointed at its bitterness as she trudges on the snow-covered cobblestone walkway, steps slowly but surely taking her back to him.

For a second, she has the half-thought to turn around and start walking away, but no, she has been steeling her resolve for the last four years already, and she knows that it is time to face him once more. Maybe for the last time. Not to fight again, but to let him go. For her sake, for their sake.

At last, with finality in her eyes, she stops before him. Her hand reaches out to touch the polished marble and its coldness seeps into her core, even through the fabric of her glove.

“Hey. I’m here.” she whispers into the thin air reverently, silently praying to Barbatos that he carries her words to him.

And as tears start tracking down her eyes, she promises herself that this would be the last time she weeps for him.

For her sake. For their sake.

 

---☆☆☆---

 

Four years ago, she found herself and Childe tucked away in an open cave, not too far from the Harbinger’s headquarters in Snezhnaya. There, under the dark of the night and the guidance of the stars—he succumbed to his feelings.

“I love you, Lumine.”

And she cried. She never knew that she was capable of such fickle thing that mortals of Teyvat do in distress or in utter elation. In her case, she would attribute it to relief—to the consolation that through her seemingly never-ending journey in this world that persisted for years, her love would be returned.

No, scratch that. Despite the lack of utterance, she believed that it was not her who fell first. Rather, it was him. Though from the hesitance in his eyes and the hint of reticence in his voice, she figured it was a fact that was hard to swallow. Especially for him—a footman of the opposing side.

And so even in that moment, regardless of the warmth coursing through her veins, she found herself asking why now.

“But, Childe—”

Before she could continue, he stopped her by pressing a finger on her lips.

“Sshhh. Come now, ojou-chan. Let’s not think of trivial matters such as allegiance and all that, okay? I can practically see the gears in your pretty little head turning at an alarming rate!” the playfulness in the way he spoke was not lost on her.

Fresh tears still streaming down her eyes, she thought about what this could mean. At the end of the day, it was useless. He was still a Harbinger and she an outlander bound to oppose them. They were destined to face one another, especially then when war is literally on their doorstep—with the Tsaritsa pledging allegiance to the Abyss Order and the knights of the rest of Teyvat on their way to Snezhnaya.

A war is brewing, and their love would be nothing but a thorn on each other’s side.

Yet, even with that knowledge, she chose not to say a word anymore for she knew that he knew as well.

A flash in his usually cold stare and she was brought back to that surreal moment. His finger slid from her lips to her jaw, slightly tracing its curve before cupping it in his hand.

“Just for tonight, let’s forget that. Just for tonight, can I be… Ajax and you—Lumine?” he whispered, pain evident in the shift of his tone.

Gold met the pleading ocean and she realized the weight of her answer. It’s now or never.

And so, allowing herself that moment of weakness, she surrendered. Just like how he did. They will be honest. To each other. Just this time. Just for tonight.

As she raised herself up on her toes, hands reaching out to him, she promised that she will never forget this. The warmth of his arms around her, the sound of his voice as he called out her name in reverence, and the latter satisfaction as their love burned hotter than the brightest star in the sky. She wished upon its luminance that she could keep him like this, with her.

Forever.

 

---☆☆☆---

 

The time of judgment was not kind for it decided to show itself the day after that fateful night. The cold of Snezhnaya never seeped into her bones deeper than it did that moment, with her still standing and four of the Harbingers down the ground.

It was a battle she could not afford to lose. She cannot allow herself to waiver, even with blood coating her arms and one leg clearly limping. She cannot lose—she must buy time until her allies arrive. The outlander trudged on and dread churned in her gut at the inevitable fate that lies ahead of her.

And there it really was. A scene she never wanted to see.

The rest of the Harbingers stood on her way, including him.

She watched the brief flash of pain across his eyes before he looked away.

No, Ajax. You knew the consequences. You cannot hesitate now.

Lumine smiled bitterly at the reminder. She knew this yet at that moment, she genuinely wished she never came down in Teyvat, or that she was just a normal mortal in this world instead. Maybe she would not have to swallow down her tears as she gripped her sword harder in one hand, anemo energy already collecting on her other.

She knows that she is a breath away from losing, with their sheer number against her sole prowess, yet she fought on. She jumped at elemental strikes of varying colors to her best ability, she dashed to evade a multitude of physical attacks on her person with agility she did not know she still possess.

It went on and on, like a game of cat and mouse—with her being hunted down and one slip-up could mean her end. However, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, she cannot help but notice the lack of enthusiasm in the chase of hydro spears coming after her as she twisted between pillars. He was clearly trying not to hit her and she hated it somehow.

Though it seemed that that moment of distraction as she observed was the perfect opportunity for her other opponents to send her flying across the platform. She gasped loudly as she landed on her broken arm and leg.

It hurts.

Her eyes glazed over, unfocused, as she spotted icicles rushing towards her from all direction. Maybe this was the end. Maybe it would be better this way for her. Maybe she bought enough time already. Maybe she was enough.

She closed her eyes, awaiting her demise as she laid broken on the ground. But it never came. Instead, she found herself covered in a bubble of hydro magic frozen in patches. Through the gaps between the ice, she spied the man she came to love standing in front of her.

No, it can’t be!

But it was apparently the reality as she watched his former allies charge at him for this act of treason. Before another burst of ice covered the bubble, she remembered hearing a faint whisper.

“I’m sorry, ojou-chan.”

 

---☆☆☆---

 

Jean and Barbara arrived, along with other knights which prompted the remaining Harbingers to flee. Three additional to the first four they came across with of the Tsaritsa’s strongest footmen lied unconscious and another one was barely breathing a few steps from the bubble they found her in. As the familiar pulse of healing thrummed in Lumine’s veins, she did not waste time and she scrambled to reach him.

His mask lay useless and cracked beside him, his bow beyond repair. His clothes were in tatters except his scarf, which somehow remained intact. All these were duly noted but at the sight of his eyes, she crumbles—presence of the Knights of Favonius be damned.

She cried her heart out, as his breath slowly stuttered even more—as the almost non-existent glow in the blue depths darkened even more.

The acting grandmaster of the knights was somehow moved and she sat next to her, placing her hand on the fallen’s chest to attempt to heal him. But from the way she took her hand back abruptly, and the manner with which she looked away, Lumine realized the cold and harsh truth.

Right then, the unforgiving wind of Snezhnaya breezed through them. It was not strong at all, yet she felt faint—as if it took her life away. And as the coldness settled deep in the recesses of her heart, she swore she heard the faintest of a wish as a whisper in the gust.

“Keep living, ojou-chan.”

 

---☆☆☆---

 

Back in the present, Lumine kneels on the ground in front of the marble stone depicting his name. It has been four years since that day yet she remembers each and every detail of their parting clearly. She recalls with bitterness the moment when they won for it certainly did not go without its costs.

Aether is safe and is now back in their realm. As for her, she is left down here in Teyvat—for she has found herself something to tie her existence on. She does not just live for herself now. She lives in honor of his name—in honor of what they created, of what he left behind. And she swears that she will continue to do so until the end of her days.

But sometimes, as loath as she is to admit, she finds herself unable to forget his eyes, his touch, his everything without pain. It hurts. And it still hurts to this day.

So, she resolves that maybe, it is not something she has to carry anymore. That maybe, she must let go to be able to feel again. Not in that manner—for she knows that she will never love again the same way, but for her to be free once more.

Lumine tightens her hold on the scarf as she pries it away from herself. Tears continue to fall down her golden eyes as she folds it neatly and places it atop the stone.

“You’re free now, Ajax.” she sobs, acknowledging the conclusiveness of her words.

Just like that day, the winds blow gently and she looks up to the night sky filled with a multitude of bright stars.

It is over.

Done.

It is time to move on.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she stands up and turns her back from him. One last time, she reminds herself not to look back anymore—for her sake, for his sake. She walks away, with finality—allowing the comforting familiarity of the darkness of the night to embrace her in place of the warmth that will never be there anymore.

 

---☆☆☆---

 

“Careful now—”

Upon opening the door of her past lover’s family house, Lumine feels the landing of a soft body on hers before she heard the last of the warning.

“—Big Sis. I was going to warn you, but she got to you first!” Teucer sheepishly chuckles from the distance.

She laughs a little at his antics before setting the small girl currently taking up residence on top of her on her lap instead as she sits down on the wooden floor.

Deep blue eyes seemingly filled with tears stared back at her with such an intensity reminiscent of the person she got it from.

Ajax.

“Mhm, did my little angel miss me that much?” she pulls the girl into her arms and she nuzzles her hair affectionately.

She felt more than heard her affirmation when Alyona—her daughter, their treasure—buried her head deeper into her chest. She cards her fingers through her sunshine’s golden locks and slowly rocks her back and forth.

Lumine sighs as her earlier thoughts come back again.

Maybe, in another life, this is not how things would have ended. Maybe, things would have been different.

But there is no reason to dwell on trivial matters such as what-ifs and what-nots anymore. She will be happy, she will be contented. She will be home—as long as she is with her—Alyona, her new beginning.

“Say, little angel. Would you like to hear about a new story? Of the brave knight named Ajax?”

#genshin impact fanfiction #chilumi #childe x lumine

[emospritelet]

Manifesto - chapter 10

It's been 84 years...

Last time, Sutherland convinced Belle to join in with a Government consultation. Cue snark and UST

[AO3]

-

Belle stared at Sutherland, her pulse thumping at the base of her throat as she met his eyes. He had that tiny smile on his face, his eyes glinting, and she licked her lips nervously.

“I - I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said lamely, and he pushed upright.

“Well, it is my house,” he said. “After a fashion.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” She closed her eyes, swallowed, and opened them again. “I just meant I didn’t think you’d concern yourself with a consultation, that’s all. I - I thought it might be one of your Ministers.”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t,” he agreed, reaching for the coffee. “But we’ve decided to give this policy more priority, and given that it’s a cross-government initiative, I thought I’d show face.”

“Right,” she said weakly. “Great.”

“Oh, I won’t be here for the whole thing,” he added. “I suspect I’ll leave after lunch. Coffee?”

“Thank you.”

Belle looked around the table, spying pieces of folded card printed with names marking each place. She read over the names, trying to find her own.

“You’re here,” said Sutherland, placing both hands on the back of one of the chairs and pulling it out. “Please. Take a seat.”

For a moment she was frozen in place, but then she lifted her chin, stalking around the table and sitting down. He pushed her chair in, and she murmured her thanks, squeezing her thighs together as he reached over her shoulder and grasped a cup and saucer between thumb and forefinger, slowly pulling it over until it was in front of her. Belle watched the movement of his hand: long, tanned fingers above a perfectly white shirt cuff, and wanted to sigh. Nope. Still fancy him. Dammit!

“I trust your journey here wasn’t too tiring,” he said, crossing to the chair opposite the door and taking a seat.

“It was fine,” she said automatically.

“And the accommodation?” he went on. “I’m sure Anna arranged something suitable.”

“Yes, it’s - uh - lovely.”

He nodded, reaching for his own coffee, and Belle glanced down at the table. There was a folder of documents in front of her, a close-up picture of a smiling multiracial group of people with their arms around each other in front of a gleaming modern building of steel and glass. Shaping a Stronger Society was written in yellow font on a dark blue background. Belle opened the folder to reveal a sheaf of documents, the day’s agenda lying uppermost.

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day,” said Sutherland, making her jump. “We’ll do our best to keep you lubricated. There’s plenty more coffee, if you need it.”

Belle automatically took a sip of her own coffee, and was spared the ordeal of making conversation by the door opening to reveal Anna. She was followed by several men and women in suits, and there was a buzz of conversation as introductions were made and seating places indicated. Belle smiled at the man who was directed to sit next to her. He looked a little out of place in his tweed jacket with elbow patches, glasses perched on his nose and red hair curling back from a high forehead. Belle read his nameplate.

“Dr Archibald Hopper,” she said. “Are you an academic?”

“Oh, Archie, please,” he said, with a warm smile. “And yes, I was a practising psychiatrist for many years. More recently I’ve been teaching at Cambridge, so that and research take up most of my time.”

Belle sat up excitedly.

“Oh! I studied at Cambridge,” she said happily. “So of course I have to say there’s no finer university for you to be teaching at.”

“Well, I certainly won’t argue with that,” he said with a smile. “And everyone knows who you are. A modern day freedom fighter for literacy, which is an excellent cause. Miss French, I believe.”

“Belle’s fine,” said Belle, with a grin. “What’s your interest in this?”

“I’ve been studying the psychological impact of poverty and deprivation and its links to poor health and other life chances,” he said earnestly. “I think your interests and mine probably overlap.”

“I should think they probably do,” said Belle. “Although I imagine your credentials are somewhat more impressive than mine.”

“On the contrary,” said Archie. “You have experience in the field, as it were. I’d certainly be interested in hearing your perspective on the literacy programmes you’ve introduced.”

“You heard about that?” she asked, surprised, and he smiled.

“There were a number of pieces in the press after your - ah - meeting with the Prime Minister,” he said. “I understand you’ve created a useful community resource built around literacy for all ages.”

Belle opened her mouth to explain what she was doing, but was cut off by Sutherland clearing his throat.

“Right, well, good morning everyone,” he said, leaning on the table and glancing around at the occupants. “We have a full schedule, and I’m sure you all want to make the most of it, so I won’t be doing the creeping death of introductions around the table, as you’re no doubt relieved to hear. We can save the obligatory networking for the tea breaks.”

There was an appreciative chuckle from the attendees.

“You all have a pack of documents in front of you,” he went on. “This contains information on everyone here, including interests and expertise. I’m pleased to see such a range of talent around this table, and I’m excited to see what we can achieve together. I know you all take the development of this policy as seriously as I do.”

Belle found herself nodding along with the others. Sutherland certainly knew how to command attention.

“The documents also set out some of the initial research provided by the government departments leading on this policy,” he said. “Of course you all have your own experience, and no doubt your own sources to bring to the table. I fully expect this to be a challenging session with a lot of strong opinions being aired, but I’m confident that we can avoid too much bloodshed.”

There was a ripple of laughter, but Sutherland’s eyes lingered on Belle a little longer than the others. She met his gaze steadily, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“You might well be wondering why I’m here,” he added, looking around. “The Shaping a Stronger Society policy will fulfil several key campaign pledges and lay the groundwork for lasting change. I thought it right that I give it the high profile it deserves, particularly when it cuts across so many Government departments. We need to be presenting a united front on this.”

“I’m sure the fact that it’s election year is a happy coincidence,” remarked a woman with a white-blonde bob over dark roots. Belle read her nameplate: Ella Deville-Waters. Sutherland grinned.

“Well, you know what they say, Ella,” he said. “Politics is eighty percent timing, ten percent luck—”

“And ten percent knowing how to lie with a straight face,” drawled Ella, making everyone chuckle.

“Thought that was at least sixty percent,” muttered Belle, and Archie laughed and managed to turn it into a cough.

“Let’s get started,” said Sutherland, glancing at Belle again. “I know there are a few of you with presentations to give on your own areas of interest, and I’m assured the technology is working, so I’ll hand things over to each of you. Anna, could you help Miss French set up the first presentation?”

Belle blinked rapidly.

“Me?” she said weakly, and Sutherland smiled.

“Gets it out of the way, hmm?”

She supposed it would.

-

Standing up in front of a sea of expectant faces turned towards her, Belle momentarily wanted to run from the room. Once she started speaking and concentrated on her passion for the subject, however, she forgot that she was presenting to a bunch of politicians and academics in Downing Street. The fifteen minutes she had been allotted went by more quickly than she thought possible, and prompted a number of questions that she was able to answer easily. She sat down with a thump next to Archie afterwards, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, and he sent her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the next speaker, Ella Deville-Waters. It turned out that she was Undersecretary for Education, and she spoke eloquently about the importance of early years learning.

There were other presentations, each followed by an opportunity for questions, the final talk being given by Archie. Belle scribbled notes as he spoke, and made a note of the papers he referenced; they sounded like something she would be interested in reading at a later date. When the questions were finished, Sutherland announced that they would break for coffee, and Belle felt herself sigh in relief. She was surprised to see that it was eleven-thirty already; the morning was almost over.

The rest of the day went reasonably well and the group generated some robust discussion; despite Sutherland having said he would be leaving after lunch, he showed no sign of doing so, and took the lead in steering the conversation. There was general agreement on the merits of expanding opportunities for all, and the desired outcome of the policy. Disagreements arose when it came to discussing how to get there. There was a frank exchange of views between Belle, Ella, and the brusque Sir George King, who worked for the Treasury. He seemed to take any suggestion that money would have to be spent as a personal affront. Anna had to step in and smooth things over more than once, and Belle could feel her patience draining away as the day drew towards evening. The draft call for evidence that was produced was the last straw.

“This doesn’t go nearly far enough,” she said bluntly, lifting the paper and dropping it on the table. “The questions skirt around the real issues, and there’s no meat on the bones of this thing. Whatever responses you get won’t address what we’ve been talking about all day. It’s papering over the cracks at best.”

“This is merely a scoping document,” said Sutherland mildly. “And a first draft at that. You can’t expect the policy to be fully-formed at this stage.”

“No, but if this is the direction we’re being nudged in, the whole thing is pointless,” she said. “How can you expect us to even start to make a difference if you refuse to fund it properly?”

Sutherland took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been over this, Miss French,” he said, sounding weary. “Budget constraints—”

“Yes we have been over this, and as I’ve said, budget constraints only ever seem to apply to policies that benefit the many over the few,” she said tartly. “Your Government may have managed to sweep the whole Pennine Consortium debacle under the rug a couple of years ago, but I remember the reports about the amount of public money that was being poured into that project, and it turned out to be going into the back pockets of the Home Secretary’s relatives!”

“Paying out according to contractual agreements is normal practice in business, I believe,” he said, in a bored voice. “The matter was investigated and the Home Secretary was cleared of all wrongdoing, as I’m sure you’re aware. ”

“My point is that billions were paid out for defence contracts with no questions being raised about whether they were affordable.”

“Clearly you didn’t watch the Select Committee hearings,” he remarked. His voice was a flat drawl that was doing nothing to stop her rising irritation.

“They were held after the money had been spent, not before, that’s my point!”

“And of course the purchase of tanks is entirely analogous to the development of literacy programmes.”

“I’d argue that the purchase of tanks is of decidedly lower value, actually,” she said.

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to make these decisions, isn’t it?”

Anna cleared her throat.

“Perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?” she suggested. “Ella, what were you saying about school opening hours?”

“Oh, we can talk about that later,” said Ella cheerfully, waving a hand. “I’d much rather listen to this argument.”

“No one’s arguing,” said Sutherland coolly. “Miss French has a passionate nature, it seems.”

“Thanks, that’s not at all patronising,” said Belle, in a dry tone.

“Passion for public service is to be commended,” he said, matching her tone. “I thought I was giving you a compliment.”

“No you didn’t.”

Sutherland fixed her with a dark-eyed stare, his mouth flat. It was strangely arousing, and she could feel her breathing quicken. She told herself it was irritation.

“Your input here is valued, Miss French,” he said, his jaw a little clenched. “But I’d be grateful if you would allow us to guide you through this process, given that you know nothing about the way Government works.”

“No, I don’t,” she agreed, losing the last of her patience. “I don’t know about policy-making and contract negotiation and tendering and public procurement. And likewise I’d say you and most of the people that work for you don’t know what it’s like to worry about where the next meal is coming from.”

“Which is why we’re seeking the input of a wide range of stakeholders such as yourself.” He was trying for a smooth tone, but his eyes were flashing, and she could sense he was getting as annoyed as she.

“If you’re not prepared to listen to us, then it’s all empty gestures, isn’t it?” she protested.

“Wanting your input and allowing you to set the parameters of this thing are two entirely different things,” he said coldly. “I’m sorry if your expectations are out of step with reality.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.”

“Right!” said Anna briskly, slapping the table and making everyone jump. “That seems like a good place to break until tomorrow. It’s been a long day and I’m sure everyone could do with some fresh air.”

“Could do with a stiff drink, I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Ella, and there were appreciative murmurs from the others.

Belle sat back in her seat, listening with half an ear as chairs scraped back and papers were gathered up. Sutherland had already gone, stalking out of the room, and the others were throwing curious glances at her as they pulled on coats and drained cups.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Belle,” said Archie, tucking his folder of papers into a battered brown leather bag. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right about the scope being too narrow.”

She gave him a grateful look, and a smile, and he ducked his head a little and sauntered out. Belle sighed, toying with the cold cup of tea in front of her as the others began to file out. She felt drained, wrung out. Was this what it was like every day for politicians? She wondered how they coped. Maybe it was why so many seemed to go grey so quickly.

“You settling in for the night?”

Anna’s voice made her look up, and Belle realised they were alone.

“Sorry, I was miles away,” she said. “I feel as though my brain’s been scrambled and stuffed back in my head all wrong.”

“Welcome to Whitehall,” said Anna, in a deadpan tone, and Belle giggled.

“Sorry for letting my temper get the better of me at the end,” she said. “I’m not cut out for politics, it seems.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Anna. “You have the ability to see to the heart of things. He wasn’t joking when he said your input is valued, you know.”

Belle sighed, running her hands over her face.

“It just - it feels like I’m wasting my time here,” she said. “I know I don’t have much longer before the library has to close, and - and yet I’m down here in London, in what seems like a hopeless uphill battle! Maybe I should just go back to Avonleigh and try to do what little good I can.”

“You may have longer than you think,” said Anna, gathering up some papers. “The Prime Minister approved a scheme for local authorities a few days ago. It offers grants to support providers of breakfast clubs and after-school learning.”

Belle sat up.

“Like the library?” she asked, and Anna shrugged.

“Seems likely, doesn’t it?” she said. “Oh, we’ve made sure that local authorities have to use it for the intended purpose, by the way. The scheme is due to launch next week. I’d keep my eyes peeled to the website, if I were you.”

She put the papers in a leather satchel and took out another folder before slinging the satchel over one shoulder. Belle was smiling, her heart swelling with what felt like hope for the first time in months.

“A reprieve for the library?” she said. “And it was his idea?”

“Like I said.” Anna hitched the satchel on her shoulder. “He does listen. You might not think so, but he does.”

“Listening’s all very well,” said Belle. “It’s the choices that are made that are the issue.”

“There isn’t always a choice,” said Anna firmly. “Or at least, not one a Prime Minister can make.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Difficult decisions have to be made,” she added. “Sometimes hundreds each day. Everything’s urgent, everything has an impact, and he tries his best to make the right call based on the information given by people he trusts. He doesn’t always get it right. No one could.”

“Maybe not, but—”

“He has to balance fifty competing interests with almost every decision he makes,” she went on. “The papers turn on a dime and whoever’s lauded one week gets pilloried the next. Everyone around him is looking to him to lead and half of them are willing him to fail so that they can step into the spotlight. I won’t let that happen if I can help it.”

She picked up the folder of papers, turning on her heel.

“I’ll show you out,” she said over her shoulder. “I expect you’ll want an early night after today. Or a large drink. Or both.”

“You care about him,” said Belle, and Anna stopped dead before slowly turning back to face her.

“Yes,” she said simply. “He’s a good friend. And whether or not you believe it, Miss French, he’s a good man.”

Belle was silent for a moment.

“I haven’t made up my mind on that score,” she said eventually.

“Oh, I didn’t say he wasn’t a stubborn bloody pain in the arse at times,” added Anna. “He’s definitely that.”

Belle couldn’t help giggling.

“Well, bearing all that in mind, and in the interests of cooperation,” she said. “I suppose I really ought to apologise for snapping at him.”

Something in Anna seemed to relax at her words, and she smiled again.

“He’s used to being snapped at,” she said dismissively. “He gets far worse in the Commons, let’s face it. But an apology would probably make him more inclined to listen to you, so I certainly won’t stand in your way.”

Belle nodded agreement, and Anna jerked her head towards the door.

“I was going to take these reports to him before I head off,” she said, holding up the folder. “If you felt like going there now, I’d be happy to tell him you want to have a word.”

Belle hesitated, but nodded, and Anna smiled briefly and headed for the door. The interior of Downing Street was busier than Belle had expected at that time in the evening, aides hurrying with laptops and drinks and phones clasped to their ears. Anna led her down a wide, thickly-carpeted corridor and paused outside a heavy office door, where two Special Branch officers nodded to Anna and eyed Belle suspiciously before stepping aside. Anna rapped smartly on the door, and Belle heard a muffled bid to enter from behind it. She could feel her heart thumping in trepidation, and when the door opened she could see a room with a high ceiling, dark green carpet and a dresser in dark, polished wood where several cut crystal decanters sat, their contents gleaming in shades of amber and ruby. There were two leather armchairs and a couch around a coffee table in the same dark wood. Bookshelves stretched around two walls of the room, and Sutherland was sitting behind a heavy desk opposite the door, scribbling something. His eyes narrowed as they met Belle’s, but Anna walked forward, cutting off his view.

“Brought you those updates on the infrastructure options,” she said breezily, holding up the files. “If you want to go through them later let me know. I thought I’d go and get something to eat.”

“So I know why you’re in my office,” he said evenly, sitting back and putting down his pen. “Not too clear on the presence of Miss French. Unless she thought of something else she wanted to call me.”

“Actually I’m here to apologise,” said Belle, making his brows lift in surprise. “So I’m not about to insult you unless you start something.”

Sutherland’s mouth worked, as though he was trying not to laugh.

“Uh - thank you, Anna,” he said, glancing away. “Yes, go and get some dinner. I think Miss French and I can have a conversation without it coming to blows.”

“Good,” said Anna. “Behave.”

Belle was unsure who that last comment was directed at, but Anna left the room before she could ask, shutting the door behind her with a click. She turned slowly on her toes to face Sutherland, who was leaning back in his chair and tapping his papers with a pen, staring at her.

“Anna told me about the local authority grants for educational services,” she said. “That should help a lot more libraries stay open.”

“That’s the idea,” he said, with a shrug.

“Providing librarians know it’s available, of course,” she added.

“There’ll be an announcement when it’s launched,” he said. “Of course there’s nothing to stop you contacting your peers and explaining the process.”

“I guess not.” She fiddled with a button on her jacket before smoothing her hand against her skirt. “What made you change the policy on local grants?”

“I didn’t,” he said abruptly. “Just provided - clarification around eligibility.”

Belle took a step forward, until she was almost touching the desk.

“Well, that clarification should mean I won’t be closing the library doors this year,” she said. “Lucky for me, hmm?”

“Surprising as it may seem,” he remarked. “I do actually take into account the views of interested parties when making decisions. Where I can.”

“Hmm.” Belle leaned on the desk, pursing her lips. “Well, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I don’t like losing my temper and I try not to if I can help it.”

There was a tiny, amused grin on his face.

“A pity,” he said. “It was rather refreshing.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t all that satisfying from my perspective,” she said. “Dealing with politicians is making me more cynical than I’d like to be.”

He gave her a twisted little smile.

“Well, that’s no bad thing,” he said. “The moment you start wanting to be cynical it’s probably time to run screaming for the hills.”

“At nine this morning I almost did run screaming,” she admitted, and he chuckled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “I enjoyed your presentation. It was delivered with your usual passion, and I think you may have brought some of the others on board.”

“I think Sir George King would rather I’d stayed at home,” she said, and Sutherland shrugged.

“If it was up to him we wouldn’t spend any money at all,” he said. “On the whole, today went rather well, I thought. No physical blows were exchanged, and there was almost no profanity. One of the more sedate policy meetings I’ve attended, truth be told.”

Belle smiled.

“We’re all here for the common good, I suppose,” she said. “Although in some cases I’m not sure how much common good they’re really interested in doing.”

“First rule of policy-making,” he said. “Try not to kill off half your contributors in a fit of righteous anger. Tempting though it is.”

“Hmm.” She was amused. “I don’t remember reading that one in the welcome pack.”

“Unwritten rule,” he corrected, raising a finger. “I think the pack said some bollocks about understanding motivation and managing expectations.”

Belle bit back a grin.

“I guess I’m not cut out for a career in diplomacy,” she said, and he smiled.

“Gets easier the more you do it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thank goodness you’ll believe one thing that comes out of my mouth.”

It was said in a dry tone, but he was still grinning, and she returned the smile. There was a moment of silence, and he pushed up from the desk, crossing to the dresser.

“I was going to have a drink,” he said. “May I offer you one? There’s whisky, port, brandy… If that’s not to your taste I could easily have something brought in.”

“Uh - okay.” Belle was beginning to feel as though she had stepped into a strange parallel universe, where small town librarians sat and drank with the leaders of nations as a matter of course. “Thank you. I’ll take a brandy.”

“Excellent choice,” he said vaguely, and opened one of the doors of the dresser, taking out two brandy glasses.

Belle watched as he reached for one of the decanters and poured two small measures. His suit pants fitted him very well, skimming his rear as he moved. She shook her head, telling herself to stop ogling the man. Sutherland turned, glasses in hand, and nodded towards the armchairs.

“Take a seat,” he said.

Still feeling as though she was dreaming, Belle took the glass he held out and sat down, crossing her legs and watching as he put down his glass and lowered himself into the seat opposite. She took a sip of her brandy to take her mind off how good he looked, and how much better he might look if he lost the tie and unfastened the first few buttons of that crisp white shirt. The brandy was very good, far better than she was used to, and she licked her lips, enjoying the taste of caramel and spice and the pleasant heat on her tongue. Sutherland took a drink, sucking in his cheeks and setting down his glass on the coffee table. He looked tired.

“Are your work days usually this long?” she asked, and his eyebrows flicked upwards.

“It’s barely six-thirty,” he said. “I still have a few hours left in me.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a work-life balance,” she observed. Sutherland pulled a face.

“Gets a little quieter at recess, but no, I don’t suppose it is,” he said.

“Are you married?” she asked, and Sutherland shook his head.

“Divorced.”

“Oh,” said Belle. “I’m sorry.”

“No no, it’s fine,” he said, sitting back. “It was amicable. We’re still friends.”

“Oh.”

“She’s engaged to a High Court judge now,” he added. “I wish her every happiness.”

“Oh.” For God’s sake, Belle, say something intelligent. “You have kids?”

“A daughter,” he said. “Grown up now. Early twenties.”

“Oh.”

Sutherland took a drink, seeming to savour the taste of brandy on his tongue before swallowing. His gaze was steady, his eyes dark, and she could feel faint stirrings of desire in her lower abdomen. She looked down into her brandy glass, watching the ripples in the amber liquid and telling herself to snap out of her crush.

“What about you?” he asked then, making her look up. “You married? Children?”

“You mean you didn’t have me checked out?” she asked dryly, and he shrugged.

“Maybe you’re good at hiding things,” he said. “Or, as is more likely, Anna told me and I forgot about it.”

Belle bit back a smile.

“Well, hiding a husband and children would be beyond me,” she said. “Luckily I have no need. No family. Well, there’s my dad back in Melbourne, but apart from that I’m on my own.”

“No large, intimidating boyfriend?” he asked. “Or maybe a girlfriend, what do I know?”

“Neither,” she said. “Last relationship was pretty crappy, to be honest. Made me want to take a break for a while.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “I understand.”

“I thought you said you were on good terms with your ex.”

“Well…” He waved a hand. “I vaguely remember what it was like to be young. Aeons ago.”

She scoffed.

“Come on, you’re not that old.”

“Bloody feels like it, sometimes,” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s what comes from running the country,” she said pertly. “It’s why I stick to running a library.”

“No doubt that comes with its own stresses.”

“Only when I’m threatened with closure by arrogant, shortsighted politicians,” she quipped, and he snorted in amusement.

“Well, thank fuck there aren’t many of those around.”

Belle giggled before catching herself, and he was grinning as he leaned further back in his chair. His eyes gleamed when he smiled, and she couldn’t decide whether it was more or less arousing than when he was angry. A dangerous path for your thoughts to take, Belle.

“Did you say your daughter was in her twenties?” she said, trying to steer the conversation onto a safe topic. “Is she at university?”

“No no, she’s finished studying,” he said. “She’s started work in the City. Not in politics, thank God.”

“You wouldn’t want her to go into politics?” she asked, and he wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t think she’d be happy,” he said. “It can be a lonely, painful existence, and you make as many enemies as friends. Probably more, if I’m honest. She has a gentle heart, and I wouldn’t want to see her harden it to survive.”

“It seems a shame that people have to,” said Belle. “I think politicians could stand to be more compassionate, not less.”

Sutherland took another sip of his drink, eyeing her as he licked an amber bead of brandy from his lower lip.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “Alas, we have to deal with the world as it is, not as we might want it to be.”

“So why did you decide it was what you wanted to do?” she asked. “Did you always want to end up running the country?”

“No, I can’t say it was a childhood dream,” he admitted. “I started out as a barrister. The politician wasn’t born until I was in my late thirties.”

“So why politics?” she asked. “I’m guessing it wasn’t for the money.”

Sutherland pulled a wry face, taking another drink.

“I was earning more at the bar, certainly,” he said. “Far better work-life balance, as well.”

“Ego, then?” she suggested, and he grinned.

“That was certainly part of it.”

Belle waited, and he sighed, turning the brandy glass between his hands.

“Would you believe me if I said I thought I could make things better?” he asked.

“My new-found cynicism wouldn’t,” she remarked, and he chuckled.

“To the tragic death of innocence.”

He raised his glass in a mock toast, and Belle grinned, raising her own before sipping her brandy. The drink was almost gone, and she found herself regretting having drunk it so quickly. She would have to leave as soon as it was done, and to her great surprise she was enjoying their conversation.

“Do you think you have?” she asked. “Made things better?”

Sutherland hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers.

“I suppose it’s a work in progress,” he said. “But I’m trying. Perhaps not in the ways you would want me to.”

“I don’t suppose what I think matters,” she said, and he shook his head.

“You might be surprised at what matters to me, Miss French.”

He took another sip of his brandy, his eyes fixed on hers, and she could feel herself shiver. She drained her glass, setting it down on the table with a loud clink.

“Well,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I should go. I feel as though I’ve been wrung dry and turned inside out, and I could really use some sleep before I have to do it all again tomorrow.”

He smiled at that, setting his glass beside hers.

“In that case, I’ll show you out. Anna will expect me to have read those papers by the time she gets back.”

“She seems very committed to her job,” observed Belle, and he grinned.

“Couldn’t do my own without her,” he said. “I need someone to keep me in line.”

“I won’t argue with that,” she remarked, and he chuckled, a deep laugh that made her belly clench.

“I can see why she likes you,” he said, and strode to the door, opening it up and nodding to the Special Branch officers outside. “Good evening, Miss French. It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

Belle nodded, slipping from the room and heading back along the corridor. A smiling woman with a dark ponytail and a brisk manner showed her out, and she stepped into the street with a sigh of relief. The press pack had gone, and she walked down towards the gates, smiling thanks to the police officer that let her out into the street beyond. It had been a long day, there was another to come, and her crush on the Prime Minister was developing into full-blown lust.

#fic: manifesto #sutherelle fic #sutherelle #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic #anyelle

[bestillmyslashyheart]

butterflies on the wind

Booker

Nile gives herself a weekend. Three days, counting Friday because she needs that extra day, to grieve, to cry, to scream and shout at the unfairness, to drink her misery away. It’s been months since she woke up from having her throat cut and for the most part, she’s adjusted pretty well, if she did say so herself. Andy, Joe, and Nicky had helped, had been wonderful support really, but Nile had had to leave her entire life behind. Everything and everyone she had ever known; it was all still out there and she had to stay away, she had to cut herself out of her life and somehow be okay with that.

She wasn’t. No matter how much she pretended she was. So she gave herself a weekend to mourn and rage against her new reality, to let it all out, and then she’d be okay.

She’d be okay.

Nile woke cold and gasping on the banks of the river on Sunday. The last two days were mostly a blur of tears and anger and alcohol but she didn’t remember being near the river. There was a moment of clearness, the disconcerting breath of fresh air after coming back, before her head revolted violently. Nile twisted to the side and vomited into the river.

“Death by alcohol,” drawled a familiar but unexpected voice. Nile spun, or tried to, in shock. Booker smiled crookedly. “It is the only one that leaves a mark.” He tapped his head. “Even we cannot avoid the hangovers.”

“What,” Nile’s teeth chattered when she tried to speak. “What are you doing here?” She tried again.

Booker looked around them, like the walls of the Seine had all the answers. “It is Paris.”

“I know it’s Paris.”

He laughed. “Nile,” he said gently. She almost felt like he was being condescending but not quite. “I am French.”

Right. Napoleon. 

“Aren’t you sick of it yet, then?”

“A little bit,” he confessed. “But where else would I go? The rest of the word is painfully inferior.”

Nile groaned. She stood up and shook her limbs, the warmth returning to them. “You’re French.”

“For better or worse,” he agreed. “So what brings you to my fair city?”

“I needed to get away and I’d never been here before,” Nile shrugged. She resisted the urge to rub even more warmth into her arms but Booker must have seen it on her anyway because he took off his own jacket and handed it over. “Don’t you need it?”

He shrugged. “I am used to it.” She waited for him to ask again why she was here, why she’d gotten so drunk she’d somehow ended up dead in the Seine, but he didn’t. “Need another drink?”

Nile thought about it. She couldn’t truthfully said she didn’t. “I shouldn’t.”

Booker accepted that with a nod. When he turned to leave, Nile found herself following. They walked quietly side by side until they’d made it back up to the streets and Booker turned left when Nile needed to go right. 

She stopped. A few steps later so did Booker. “I’m that way.”

He nodded. “Stay away from the booze,” he warned. “It will not do you any favors.”

“I don’t want it to,” Nile confessed. “I wanted to not think. Just for a little while.”

A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “I know the feeling.” He didn’t say anything else so Nile turned away. They still had over 99 years to go.

“Nile,” he called softly when she was almost too far away to hear it. “Not thinking for a little while will turn into not thinking for a long while if you are not careful. A lifetime of oblivion is not nearly as much fun as it sounds sometimes.”

Nile accepted the advice with a careful nod and watched as Booker disappeared down a side street. 

It was only when she got back to her hotel, she realized she still wore his jacket. No one said a word when she turned up at the latest safe house with it in tow so she kept it. The next time she wanted to not think, she curled herself in the jacket instead.

Nicky

It was late, late enough that even Andy had succumbed to sleep. Nile headed for the kitchen when she passed Joe and Nicky’s room. Through a crack in the door, she saw Joe curled up on the bed, alone. Nile wasn’t sure she’d ever seen either of them sleeping alone; they were always curled up around each other, even when one needed to sleep and the other didn’t.

Nile forwent the kitchen in favor of searching for Nicky. It took only a matter of moments to clear the small house before she stepped outside.

A few yards from the house, on the edge of the cliff which offered stunning views in the daylight, was Nicky, his body casting a small shadow in the moonlight.

“Nicky?” She called softly. He didn’t respond and Nile instantly went on alert. She couldn’t see any danger but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any. The others’ senses were far beyond hers, honed over many many more years, and she’d learned to trust them more than her own. “Nicky?” She hissed.

Slowly, Nicky turned his head to indicate he had heard her. “Everything’s fine,” he told her softly. “What are you doing up?”

Letting her shoulders relax slightly, Nile crossed the yard to where Nicky stood, not saying a word until she came abreast of him. He had his eyes closed, his head slightly bowed, and he didn’t so much as glance at her as she came into view. “Couldn’t sleep,” she replied softly. “You?”

“Praying.”

Nile startled slightly. “You pray?” After what Andy had said the first time she caught Nile praying, she hadn’t expected any of them to believe in God.

Nicky’s lips turned upwards. “I do.”

“Andy said-”

Now, Nicky laughed. “Andy hasn’t believed in anything in a very long time. She has not had reason to.”

“But you do?”

“I do,” he bowed his head a bit more in acknowledgement. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “Though what I believe in, I cannot say.” Nile cocked her head in confusion. Before she could ask, Nicky continued, “I have had my faith my entire life, I see no reason why I should abandon it just because I live longer than I expected to.”

Nile suddenly remembered that Nicky had fought in the Crusades, the most famous of religious wars. “You fought for God, once,” she wondered.

“Of course,” he smiled. “I had already pledged my life to His service, fighting for it was a given.”

“Pledged your life?”

Nicky finally looked over at her. “Before I died the first time, I was a priest,” he told her. Nile’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Nicky laughed. “Priests then were not quite like priests now. The rules were different.”

“Apparently.” Nile returned Nicky’s kind smile. “How do you reconcile our lives and your faith? I’m having trouble.”

“I cannot tell you that,” Nicky told her. “It is something you must decide for yourself. But for me? I discovered what was most important. My faith and my prayers. I don’t always know what I’m praying to but the act of it gives me comfort. If you ever need to talk about it, I am here, but I have always found faith to be of a personal nature.” He paused. Nile watched in amazement and confusion as a look passed over his face that she had only ever seen directed at Joe. “Or you could abandon your faith like a heathen.” His voice raised slightly and he leaned back into Joe’s arms as they wound around him. Nile hadn’t even heard him approach.

“You believe in your God,” Joe said teasingly. He nosed at Nicky’s hair. “And I will believe in mine.” From the look on his face, Nile inferred that Joe was not talking about a celestial god. From the look on Nicky’s face, she knew she was correct. “I can’t sleep, Nicolo,” he whined.

Nicky rolled his eyes but let Joe pull him back into the house without complaint. 

Nile listened to the door close and turned back to the view. She was familiar enough with it by now that she could imagine the sight before her, even if she could not see it. Taking a deep breath, Nile let it out slowly and felt some previously unknown tension leave her with it. Her faith had always been important to her and a part of her had feared the day it wouldn’t be any longer. But if Nicky could still believe even after a millennia...

Andy

When they’d first met, Nile could not have guessed how old Andy was. Depending on her behavior or her clothes, she could appear of a similar age to Joe and Nicky, or as their older sister, or even as their mother, at least in relation to Nile. She had an ageless look to her that Nile had marveled at, especially after realizing just how old she really was.

But that was no longer the case. Andy had found her first gray hair this morning. Or rather, Joe had found it and immediately teased her about it until she rushed into the bathroom to stare at herself in the mirror.

When she didn’t come out after 20 minutes, Nile knocked on the door. “Andy?” The door opened.

Nile eased it open to find Andy still as a statue, her hands braced on the edge of the sink, and her eyes fixed on the strand of gray hair that fell just on the edge of her hairline. “Andy?”

“I never thought I’d get old,” she whispered. “Even before. I only ever knew two people who were old enough to have gray hairs and I knew I would never be one of them. I was a warrior and warriors didn’t get to grow old.” Her voice was barely audible. “When Lykon died and I knew that one day I might get to, I never even considered the possibility that I would get to actually live with my mortality. I just assumed-”

She assumed that she’d discover she could finally die when she didn’t come back. 

Nile closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of the tub, unsure what to say. Even in the face of Andy’s mortality, Nile had long resigned herself to never aging, to never seeing her own hair turn white. 

“You can stop,” she found herself saying. Andy looked at her in the mirror. “Joe, Nicky, and I can keep going. You can stop. You can grow old.”

Andy smiled and it wasn’t brittle. “No.”

“Andy-”

“I’m not going to stop,” she said firmly. “And I will grow old.” Her smile grew. “The two are not mutually exclusive.”

Nile stared at her. “You don’t have to do this, Andy. Not anymore.”

Andy rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them. She placed the towel carefully back on the rack and opened the door before facing Nile. “Neither do you. But you’re going to.” She left without waiting for Nile to reply.

It was true, Nile supposed. She didn’t have to do this, this job of theirs. But she was going to, because it’s who she is. 

Something settles inside her at the thought. She’s not here with these people, doing these jobs, because she has no other choice. She does have a choice. She’s chosen this.

Joe

The anger felt good. It felt right. Andy was dead. The skies should rage and the ground should quake at her absence but the earth stayed silent and the skies stayed clear and Nicky knelt quietly over her in prayer and Nile wanted to scream. Andy was supposed to have more time. She hadn’t even gone gray yet.

Nile left. 

The compound was empty, everyone else already dead, and Nile ignored the bodies in her way as she sought clearer ground. A ways away, death in her rearview mirror, Nile screamed. Loud and long, the sound pierced the air. When she stopped, her chest heaved and her hands clenched in tight fists. There was no one left to fight but oh did Nile cra-

Her head whipped to the side with the force of the punch. She went with it in a faint attempt to lessen the blow. When she spun around to face her attacker, her gun was in her hands and pointed at Joe’s face. He ripped it from her without a thought and Nile lashed out.

Her hits landed hard and his landed harder. When her leg snapped and she fell to her knees, Joe went with her. Their bout lasted a few more seconds before Nile just stopped. 

The anger fled her as if it had never been there and left only sorrow in its wake.

Joe’s arms were around her before she even realized she was crying. He held her as her leg knit back together and then he held her longer. When her tears ran dry, Nile noticed the wet spots on her own shoulder and reached up to hug Joe back. 

“I’ve never felt so angry in my life,” she confessed in a breathless whisper. In hindsight, she hated the feeling, knew it had no place in her.

“Grief is funny like that,” Joe replied. He put his chin on her head and held her closer. “Makes you feel things you don’t want to. But it’s all part of the process.”

“Breaking my leg is part of the process?” She asked sardonically.

She felt him smile. “If I hadn’t, what would you have done? You wanted a fight, Nile, and there is no one else around to give it to you.”

Nile knew he was right. She had felt the rage under her skin and the itching for violence. It was gone now and despite the grief, she felt better for it. “Thank you.”

“No need,” he replied immediately, like he always did. 

She pulled back to look at him. His cheeks were shiny with spilled tears. “What do you need?” She asked, even as she knew the answer.

Joe smiled. “The only thing I have ever needed.” He glanced over his shoulder and Nile followed his gaze to find Nicky kneeling next to a covered body. “We have had time to prepare for this and we will be okay. We have each other.” Joe turned to her. “You’ve had Andy all these years. Will we be enough?”

Nile wanted to say yes, wanted desperately for these men who had become her family to be enough, but they all knew that Joe and Nicky had a habit of forgetting the rest of the world when they were together and Nile wasn’t sure she could survive on her own right now. She looked up at Joe, unwilling to admit it aloud.

He read it on her face anyway and nodded. “Alright,” he sighed. “We’ll go find Booker.” But it hadn’t even been ten years, yet, and Joe was the one who had needed the time apart.

“Joe-” she started to say.

He shook his head. “It’s all part of the process,” he said, echoing his earlier words. Nile cocked her head in question. “I needed to grieve the man I thought I’d known and the relationship and trust I’d thought we’d had. Anger was part of that,” he confessed. “But so is forgiveness.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “We will find Booker.”

Nile swallowed the lump in her throat and sent a quick thanks to God for giving her these people to spend forever with. She wouldn’t have made it on her own, or with anyone else. “Let’s start in Paris.”

#the old guard #tog fic #my fic #nile freeman #joe x nicky #minor tho

[defyances]

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀

( where yugen is so incredibly obsessed with this woman that she decides to rant about her )

on: her followers

to start us off, we’ll discuss the main event of irelia’s performance: her relationship with blossoming blade. they are very close with each other, and it can be interpreted as platonic or romantic. i only say this because they establish their relationship as teacher/student, a platonic/familial bond that can be as powerful as a romantic one. but i also digress, given the affectionate remarks they give each other such as:

irelia: i wish i could give you silks, but i must give you steel. blossoming blade: stay by my side. i cannot ask for more.

irelia: ionians into formation! blossoming blade: i’d follow you to the black heart of noxus itself.

&& there is so much more. blossoming blade is not confident in her ability to fight, much like irelia && her lack of confidence in her ability to lead, which might explain why irelia has some sort of connection to her. she sees her as a mirror of herself, and much like she needed at one point, blossoming blade needs someone to support her. so, she will give that plus much more. lastly, irelia’s reaction upon blossoming blade’s death; it is simply undeniable that they love each other.

i am a bit bothered by the lack of interactions between irelia && zinneia since it is implied that zinneia is her former mentor:

irelia: zinneia, you are a master at your craft. zinneia: and fate has sent you to give my craft purpose.

irelia: as a child, i watched you dance at the placidium every spring. zinneia: it was your bravery that brought me to the fight.

i was hoping to have more information on their relationship && the sort of impact zinneia had on irelia, but at the same time, it gives me the opportunity to fill in the gaps! given zinneia’s interactions with the rest of irelia’s followers, she is an elder ( we will not talk about how that isn’t reflected in her card art ) who leads the dance program at the placidium. while irelia’s o’ma taught her how to dance, zinneia perfected it with her lessons, and she became the mother/grandmother figure in her life once all her family members passed away. it assures me that irelia did have a support system ( even if a part of her might disagree. ) i will do a more thorough ( * headcanon based ) look at their relationship in another post.

when irelia said she is a warm && caring person, she really meant it. she cares a great deal for her followers as shown:

coastal defender: generations tended this land. i cannot leave. irelia: we must retreat for now, but i promise we’ll return.

ribbon dancer: stand behind me! they won’t hurt you. irelia: if they hurt you, i’d never forgive myself.

fighting for your freedom is important, yes but not so recklessly. if a battle isn’t turning out in their favor, irelia would rather retreat and keep her followers safe rather than dying in vain. her tone is mother-like, always worrying for them even though they are confident and determined to protect their home, and at their deaths, she is torn apart. she is both grateful ( ‘ your sacrifice mattered ’ ) && heartbroken ( ‘ so young . . . ’ ), which is why i emphasize her hesitance to believe in herself as a leader. she is responsible for their lives and for each that falls, she fails. she cannot fail them ( something she says herself upon the death of her card ); her people deserve to live to see the day of bittersweet victory.

on: noxus

as expected, irelia harbors a lot of hate towards them, and rightfully so. however, what i want to talk about is riot confirming my assumption on how deep this hate runs.

imperial demolitionist: for the empire. irelia: so young, already so wicked.

imperial demolitionist: remember the objectives. irelia: ‘murder the innocent’ and ‘destroy their homes’?

for those who don’t know, imperial demolitionist is a child. irelia is speaking to a child and not in a tone you would expect an adult would talk to a child ( especially one who was brainwashed to commit awful atrocities. ) this confirmed my headcanon of irelia’s white && black mentality: no matter who you are or how you came to be, if you are noxian, she will kill you. she will refuse to see you as anything but a tyrant, and she will continue to allow this hate to fester and dehumanize noxus as a whole. she won’t even refer to them by name! she has her reasons, given how much they have taken away from her, but it doesn’t make it right. as we all know, noxus has slaves, ranging from adult to children, and will send them to war whether they volunteered or not. they have to act in order to survive, but irelia can’t see that they’re trying to live; she sees them trying to kill her home, so in turn, she’ll kill them. && that is a flaw i will cover more on in another post.

even though the faith in herself wavers, the passion to protect ionia doesn’t with how confident she talks back to the noxians. she threatens them, promises to kill them, even when faced with their technology and their machinery. she has that much faith in her people and the land, and it’s admirable. no wonder why people follow her.

on: shurima

i never expected interactions between irelia and the shurimans ( especially with azir and nasus ), but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless! azir && irelia are two fierce leaders, fighting tooth and nail to secure the safety of their homes; however, the difference between their idea of leading is evident within their interactions.

azir: a leader must see victory beyond each loss. irelia: my heart weeps for every fallen ally.

azir: war is an instrument that can make or destroy its leaders. irelia: instruments create beauty; war ends it.

from my perspective, azir isn’t so affected by the loss of lives in the war like irelia is ( it could be because he’s become desensitized after leading for so long or he truly doesn’t care ), and i could be wrong as i am not so familiar with azir. but with irelia, it is obvious that she is very sensitive towards the death of her people. whether they were close to her or not, as far as she knows, they were innocent souls, and they were dragged into this war unprepared. so many lives lost, so many deaths unjustified — it is simply unfair to her people, who have done nothing wrong. && no matter how many times she’s seen a body belonging to the first lands, it never hurts any less. she’s been able to mask that pain over the years she’s grown, but she still grieves, and it can be seen/heard whenever someone very close to her dies.

another difference i like to point out between the two leaders is their viewpoints on war: azir sees war almost like survival of the fittest. in the second quote, war is a way to create leaders, the best of the best while irelia sees it as destroying the beauty of life. war is a massacre, no matter which side wins, && even though she also strives for victory, she will only remember it as the day that peace died.

nasus: sorrow weighs upon you, but death could bring you peace. irelia: not yet, curator. i am far from done.

this made me snort because it’s basically nasus telling irelia, “k’ing yourself would make you feel better,” but i’m sure it isn’t meant to sound that way. rather, he understands her grief && how badly it is affecting her, so he is “testing” her will to see how strong it really is. if she had the opportunity, would she die && end her suffering there, or would she continue to preserve despite the agony she holds in her heart? irelia answers almost incredulously; if she dies now, ends her suffering now, who will lead her people to victory? certainly not anyone she knows/trusts. so, she cannot die. she will not die, not until she knows that her home is safe. ( this plays a bit into my headcanon that irelia doesn’t really fear death since she anticipates the day of reuniting with her family && ending her torment. )

there isn’t much to say about her interactions with the soothsayer && the voice of the risen other than she’s grateful for their aid in these trying times.

on: miscellaneous champs

lastly, i’ll be touching upon her interactions with in-game characters — which, suffice to say, isn’t a whole lot. it’s a bit disappointing. i expected more interactions with shen, karma, riven, and zed; i expected interactions with yasuo, yone, and lulu ( who is apparently in ionia?? ) but unfortunately, we weren’t given that. but i won’t say i’m heavily disappointed either because we did get some interactions with ionian && noxian champs plus extra.

shen: the balance requires a watchful eye. irelia: ionia needs brave hearts and able hands, too.

much like akali, irelia does not believe in waiting around && letting the land fight on its own. she even questions shen’s philosophy because of the slaughter that happened, which makes me theorize her faith in the spirit; clearly, she still believes in it but not so deeply like shen and the elders.

karma: ionia speaks through me. irelia: then tell me when this bloody fight will end?

she even questions the spirit of ionia itself, in a tone that is tired and desperate to end this terror. she is a lot nicer to karma in lor than lol, which confirms my suspicion that while irelia was initially frustrated with karma’s ( lack of ) action, she has come to understand her reasoning through the years that they’ve worked together.

zed: pledge yourself to the shadows. irelia: noxian tyranny has already forged our bond.

riven: [ dies ] irelia: irredeemable.

isn’t it crazy how irelia would rather side with the “evil” shadow master rather than the former noxian? of course, zed isn’t all bad, and riven isn’t all good, but it just further proves how she doesn’t treat noxians as humans at all; however, i would also like to point out her interaction with riven is if she’s against her. irelia would perhaps give her a chance if her quote in-game with her proves anything: “you want redemption? join me, and kill your masters!”

&& i’m still flabbergasted by her interaction with zed. she might not entirely agree with him, but she’ll work with him without hesitance. after all, they do share the philosophy of killing all noxians.

irelia: join us, prince jarvan. dance by our side. jarvan: i’m afraid i was born with two left feet. it’s a lightshield thing…

jarvan: noxus will pay for what they did to your people. irelia: yes, demacian prince. we will see to that.

so not only does she have shurima’s support but also demacia’s! a bit shocking since demacia is antimage and irelia is technically a mage, but i am glad to see that she and jarvan are on good terms.

irelia: my family...h-have you seen them? kindred: drifting between innocence and consequence.

STOP!! astra and i literally discussed this: if irelia was given the chance to talk to kindred, she would most certainly ask for her family && question why she was spared. of course, kindred would answer ominously, which in this interaction, makes me curious. between innocence and consequence? what do they mean? is her family stuck in limbo? are they currently being judged based on irelia’s actions in life? or are they waiting for irelia to join them? perhaps we’ll never know.

#˗ˏˋ⠀ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧. ›› the day you died，you did not tell your body. #/ wow this is the most i've written for a character ever #/ three hours n i was just rambling nonsense at the end sfjdhsb

[serosgirl]

✧˖*°࿐ goodbyes ❛ i’m no good at goodbyes ❜

i cried while writing this, so i will not be reviewing for mistakes </3

warnings: angst, vague description of injury, death

abrupt recollection prompted deku to still his steps. imagery frolicked about his frenzied cranium, startling memory reiterating itself with colorful illustration depicting previous years. “i hate goodbyes.” the chime of her voice caused izuku to erect in earnest. planted upon shambles towered by rubble were his frozen heels, shoes glued onto the pavement as he listened diligently to the echo of her voice.

“i hate goodbyes.” her berate of common curtesy acquired perplex expressions of her peers due to impending curiosity. midoriya rapidly pinned his gape of awe upon the lax figure of his classmate who comfortably reclined against the backrest of her metal desk. [yn] grudgingly kicked at the tiles under her feet, chewing the inside of her mouth as if musing her previous claim.

deku fervently extended his arm, thrashing the extremity towards the girl who paid no mind to his commotion. with a desperate cry of her name, izuku hysterically conducted attempts to encounter her envisioned silhouette, but his futile efforts wrenched a furious exhale of contempt when he presently couldn’t will the energy to move. he was subjected to the loom of his lurid memory, heart briskly thumping away as the depiction continued to enact before his widened lids.

his transfixion, contemporary constrain and suppression, ascribed to his rapture fathomed with will induced from transpiring portrayal. the first-person perspective narrated by izuku’s nostalgia maintained its spellbound accomplishment. hero of hosu city, deku, had become frigid; unresponsive to the present world. inapt reminisce prevailed within midoriya’s disarranged conscious.

commencing further conversion of the topic, izuku parts his lips. “how so?” fabricated from his reputative curiosity, midoriya queried his classmate in regards to her statement.

deku was keen to the pitch of his voice. octaves heavy in tone, smooth baritones glissading the surface of his pinna which signified the scene before him was truly vision of past memory, his reddened eyes descended upon the blue gowns that his peers embellished, caps signifying their approaching diversion from yuuei; graduation imminently announcing an awaiting climax.

adjusting the tight cap that was fitted to the measurement of her crown, [yn] indifferently met the ardent gaze of her friend who desired to freeze time where he stood. she dejectedly folded her arms across her chest, an endearing pout weighing the junction of her nude colored lips. “goodbye incorporates possibilities of never seeing that person again,” [yn] sheepishly adverted her stare and fiddled with her thumbs. “departure shouldn’t end in adieu because we aren’t going to suddenly vanish. our class has an inseparable bond, and i’ll never give that up. therefore, i refuse to mention goodbye because i’ll always be where i’m needed most.”

say, midoriya,” the way in which she utilized her feathery soft voice to catch his attention could have him at her every beck and call, ready to grant each and every wish she had of him. “you won’t leave me, right? forever is an eternity i wish to spend with you. i won’t say goodbye since i have no intention of leaving. my place here is with you.” child-like gleam accompanied sweet naivety harbored by the wishful girl. [ec] pools of crystalline solution were glossed in a coat of bliss. brushing plump hills of her cheeks were silken lashes of [hc], each strand slothfully stroking her skin in soft tickles. her flesh had been coated in morning glaze, bright yellow hues painting her delicate figure in a gorgeous frosting of boundless beauty. such sight enraptured midoriya until he was rendered victim of his enthrallment.

izuku hardly required time to ponder a favorable answer. he was aware as to what his evolving desire pertained to. “of course, i won’t.” he bashfully stammered amongst his confession, freckled cheeks flushing as [yn] gifted him sight of her elated countenance, a toothy, cheshire grin depicting her glee. with a smile that rivaled that of the gleaming daystar, [yn] beckoned him closer, impelling the beat of his heart to spike whenever she met his infatuated gape; furthermore inciting a gentle flutter of his beating organ before it rocketed in pounding against his ribcage and hammering his insides.

“then, you must promise me izuku!” gingerly raising a pinky, she outstretched her elbow to meet his quivering appendage; a habit he had yet to overcome but endearing nonetheless. “we’ll seal our promise like this, so you can’t go against your word.” demonstrating how to conclude their vow, [yn] intertwined her lone finger with his own, curving their touch until their thumbs brushed with a cheeky kiss. midoriya overheats at the tender visual of her doe eyes and the meaningful caress of her soft fingertips, melting into a state of undeniable adulation.

“cross my heart.” falsity laced not a letter of his sentence. genuine with his oath, he oozed confidence that contradicted his earlier composure. “i’ll make sure to uphold our promise, and i’ll carry it to my grave.” oppositely, choice lies not within the hands of mortals.

luck, serendipity, and fate do not require provision as all are consequence of historic action. destiny is bound to transpire regardless of will; circumstance will arise of its own accord whereas luck is spontaneous; an unforeseen coincidence that plays in favor of the user. happenings do not transpire as consequence of fabricated arrangement. a mere promise held no weight pertaining to flow of céleste. destiny intended to forsake the hero of his pledged proclamation. mercy was naught of midoriya izuku. bestowed upon him as a curse of a mythical entity, the obligation of conducting such a claim as his was not a duty that befell his shoulders but his companion.

similar to the dancing flicker of a flame, sharp cognizance returned the hero to the cruel reality of his present setting.

wind fiercely nipped and bit the delicate skin of his ears, sharp pressure assalting the sensitive flesh of his red nose and rosy cheeks. his consciousness awoke to his numbing position, fingers tense and reaching for a figure who no longer remained where he last scouted her visage.

his head gyrated furiously across the landscape, eyes panically darting along the ruins of a demolished city. howling gales sung at infrequent consistencies of pitches that squealed into his ears. he was swift in covering his ears, clenching his lid into a compressed squeeze as if it were to alleviate the harsh throb of his skull.

he was oblivious to his predicament, victim to the villain who manipulated his bewildered state and gamboled about his mind. voices overwhelmed his sense, submerging the hero into a fury of resounds that excruciatingly wailed into the drum of his ear. images stunned midoriya into an immoveable state, his meek plea for the dizzying motion of memories to cease inaudible.

he frantically thrashed his head about, even resorting to knocking his own head as to prevent the vigilante from further obstructing his thoughts. his fingers roughly fumbled with the roots of his hair. antagonized and subject of interest, izuku was devoid of perseverance. proper alternatives had yet to be created due to his inability to formulate coherent thought, but an inception of an adored recollection paused the whirring and performed an act before his eyes.

“if you’re obligating yourself to save others, who is going to protect you?” the question was far from anticipated. [yn]’s spontaneous and random query left izuku rambling under his breath, attempting to generate a logical response. his distracted yet engrossed expression of concentration erected a hearty laugh from [yn]’s gut. “don’t worry,” she peered at him through her fluttering lashes and prudently held his hand. “i’ll make sure you’re safe. that will always be my first priority, so don’t worry too much, okay?” she gifted his hand a reassuring squeeze and lead him towards his established headquarters.

the recollection brought a serene smile to his face, even more so whenever the shrill ache to his ears dulled at the perception of [yn]’s voice. she had been one to put his safety before his own, and while her action would continue to be interpreted as thoughtful, izuku would resent her efforts. she had no responsibly to selflessly sacrifice her life for his own. deku remained as reckless as he were in childhood, encountering death more times than he had his birthday. [yn] subjecting herself for his brash action was a calamity midoriya swore to prevent. if it were to require his last breath in place of hers, he would readily spare each fiber of his anatomy. he swore it; he swore to be dead before a wound be placed upon her skin, so how come his troth had been trampled?

ruin; his life had fallen to shambles just as deku began to reach the peak of euphoria. blemish; bruises of all shape and color indent her skin in concerning increments. urgency; izuku abandoned current threat as he rushed to [yn]’s area of impact, finding her battered figure abused and broken. explode; engulfing the male until he was erupting with overwhelming vexation.

timidly scooping her into his arms, izuku saddened at her dwindling complexion. “hold on, [yn]! bear with it just a little longer. paramedics should arrive any time now.”

she huffed a short giggle and drowsily blinked. “i’m not going to need them, izuku.” she rested her eyelids in contemplation, obviously musing over thought of her predicament, immobile extremities contorted in variations she could not identify. her chest awfully caved into her ribcage, belated breaths labored and much more harder to acquire.

“yes,” refusing to agree, midoriya argued with sense and continued to refute against her given claim. “you do need them, [yn]. once they arrive, they’ll take great care of you.”

the wounded woman hummed, not entirely bothering with bantering in opposition to the number one hero. “you want to know something funny, izu?” she utilized a nickname that hadn’t been brought up since elementary. the thought caused izuku’s heart to swell in accumulated grief.

he wanted to reprimand her. demand that she use the name whenever she’s healed and safe within his presence. “what is it, baby?” midoriya severed their professionalism and delicately brushed soothing stripes among her discolored cheeks.

[yn] smiled at the name, beaming an appreciative twinkle that still flickered with her harbored fondness. “my perception as to bidding farewell still hasn’t changed. i hate saying goodbye,” bitterly laughing at her circumstance, [yn] cracked a crooked smile, teeth bathed in scarlet blood but still possessing her undeniable charm. her jest of pity quickly turned sour whenever her sight involuntarily whisked into splotches of blurs, obscuring the male from her sight. her cheesy grin faltered into a wavering frown, her voice trembling as tears gathered in the wells of her eyes. “but, i think i have to.”

whimpers shook her shoulders and she weakly wiggled her fingers in an eager attempt to hold onto izuku; hold onto something to ground her to reality. was it selfish of her to make such a wish? express her truehearted desire? she longed for a few moments more, willing the black in her vision to subside for a chance to talk to her lover just a second more.

izuku cradled her slumped position in the crevice of his arms, brushing a thumb beneath her eyes as to wipe away her current sorrow. “if you hate it so much, don’t,” years intended to build midoriya into the hero he was today could not have prepared him for a scene such as this in thousands of centuries to come. he was a hero for fucks sake! his job was to defend and protect, but yet you could no longer muster the strength to weakly cling onto the sleeve of his costume. “don’t say goodbye. stay here with me, please, [yn]. you’ve made it this far, baby; achieved goals you formally thought impossible. your presence has generated sanction within the lives of people you hardly know. you’re so strong, [yn]. you’re brave and courageous. children look up to you and aspire to follow in your steps.

there’s so much of your life left to live. who says your journey has to conclude right now?” the fingers that previously clutched onto his emerald collar had steadily laxed from their coil, her drooping limb motioning to fall onto her lap. deku hastily grasped her wrist, bringing the cooling flesh of her palm against the firey hot beds of his cheeks. leaning into her vacant caress, the boy cried, “don’t leave me, [yn]. there’s so much more,” unresponsive to his outburst, [yn]’s soft gaze continued to peer upon izuku’s tear-filled optics. a lone droplet parted the corner of her glass eyes, obtaining midoriya’s desperate search for signs of persisting life. with a shudder he continued on, “there’s so much more i wish to do with you.”

he miserably searched for small ministrations; a twitch or quiver, perhaps the fluttering of her tear-swollen eyelids, but he received only the inanimate stare of [yn]’s dull hues. she had departed; left izuku to continue his journey alone. their vow splintered into fragments, falling to shards that clattered and emphasized the hero’s current state: heartache prompted by desolation.

spitefully, deku tightened his hold around her limp shoulders as he exclaimed frustrations to a sky who could not hear his snivels. “forever, right?” contradictory as to the pledge sealed by their past, eternity concluded far soon than anticipated. a pitiful disruption of izuku’s voice initiated angry sobs that vigorously dug his knees into the crumbled debris. “you promised me! you promised me, [yn]!” he screamed to the heavens as if he would summon you from the throne of clouds. “did our promise mean nothing? your place here is with me!”

deku beat upon his chest whenever his lungs began to constrict, depriving him of air to supplement his wheezing cry. hot tears wept his tormented figure. the droplets descended the hills of his cheek and splattered upon the lifeless complexion of his companion. “i promised to take our vow to the grave so why,” attacks of breathless inhales prompted an intermission as izuku’s sniffles dared to throttle his composure. “why are you the one to go first?”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #my hero #my hero academia #izuku #midoriya #izuku mydoria #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoria x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader