#since she already went through the whole pain while being human (keeping the aspect of the little mermaid's feet getting cut by knives

[lowlylux]

I am a Sinner (You are a Saint)

Chapter Ten | For The Hope Of It All

Ship: HeiKazuScara

Rating: E

Status: In Progress

Word Count: 3.1k

Description:

“You shall be cast out of the heavenly realm indefinitely.”

Kunikuzushi feels arms grab his own as he is forced to his feet. He struggles, keeping his eyes on his mother only. “Mother! Don’t let them do this!” The guards continue to drag him away, even if it is a struggle. “Mother!” He knows the gate to the human realm is growing closer to him. The more time passes, the less chance he has to escape. But the divine never back out of their decisions…never. He looks to his mother one last time, hoping that she at least looks at him. But her gaze refuses to meet his own.

When he is finally cast out, the air rushing past his entire body, he could only visualize his mother’s pained expression.

He has never felt so alone…

ao3 link

Scaramouche hasn’t really interacted with Heizou in a few days.  Yes, he has talked to him, but any moment he is potentially alone with him for more than a few minutes.  Perhaps it is due to him being terrified of the possibilities of a conversation, but he really doesn’t want to think about it.  If Scaramouche could, he would forget certain aspects of the day he saved Heizou.  But, that does prove to be difficult.

Heizou seems to make it his personal mission to catch Scaramouche alone, much to the angel’s dismay.  And considering the fact that Heizou has been given a month off due to the whole situation (to Kazuha’s protests, as he thought it should have been longer), Heizou has far too many chances to get Scaramouche alone.

But, since Kazuha wanted Heizou to be as comfortable as possible, at least he has decided to take some time off as well.  So at least Scaramouche doesn’t have to deal with avoiding Heizou for hours at a time.

The angel curls up on an armchair, scrolling through random articles on Kazuha’s laptop, glancing at the couple every once in a while.  Heizou is in Kazuha’s arms as they watch some bad horror movie, the two laughing every once in a while to make fun of the ridiculousness of the movie.  He looks away when Kazuha meets his eye.

“What are you looking at now?” Kazuha asks.

“It’s some article about an anime…it looks cool but I’m already spoiled so I doubt I’ll watch it.”

“That sucks.” Kazuha mutters, resting his chin on Heizou’s shoulder.  “Heizou?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking about something…”

Heizou shifts slightly, obviously trying to make sure Kazuha is still comfortable, but also just wanting to look at him.  “Oh?”

“Well,” Kazuha starts as his grip tightens a bit as he holds Heizou close to him.  He moves his head, proceeding to kiss Heizou’s neck sweetly in a manner that makes Scaramouche blush at the sight.  “We haven’t gone on a date in so long….”

“We went on a date….uh…”

“The week before Scara appeared,” Kazuha mutters, once again resting his chin on Heizou’s shoulder once more.  The blond looks toward Scaramouche, smiling a bit, “and that’s not a terrible thing.  We just haven’t thought about it.”

Scaramouche almost jumps at the fact that Kazuha is talking to him, squirming at the fact that he is being stared down.  “Well that’s…good.” He still feels terrible, even if Kazuha is insisting he shouldn’t be.  He really doesn’t want those two to have issues, especially if he potentially does something that could hurt their relationship.

“So, I was thinking…do you want to go to Kiminami tonight?”

Heizou beams, unable to face Kazuha but still seemingly attempting to anyway.  He’s practically bouncing at this point, evidently extremely excited over the idea.  “That actually sounds like a good idea.”

“That’s why I suggested it,” Kazuha hums, going back to the movie he’s watching.  “We can get going after the movie.”

“But the movie isn’t even very good…”

Scaramouche barely even notices it at first, but when he does it almost makes him blush at the thought.  Kazuha is softly tapping Heizou’s thigh, which happens to be bare since he is wearing shorts.  The action in itself isn’t anything important.  But, the fact that Heizou straightens his back, immediately stopping his protests, is definitely indicative of hidden meanings within the actions.

“We’ll get ready after the movie,” Kazuha mutters, eyes trained on the television.

“Okay…”

●•·•●

Kazuha likes going on dates, mostly because he can spoil the other person.  It’s honestly a good thing he’s pretty well off, because if he was broke he would rather go without eating for a week then let his date go home without something.  He’s always been a gift giver, mostly due to the fact that it makes the person receiving the gift happy.  That’s partly why he loved taking Scaramouche shopping, seeing the angel’s face light up made his day.

But it’s…difficult with Heizou.  He can’t shower the man with gifts, because Heizou is well off as well.  So, he has to get creative.  While Heizou can afford to go to fancy restaurants, he likes the cheaper options.  So, Kazuha makes sure to take his boyfriend to places he knows Heizou likes.  That, paired with anything that Kazuha can think of, and he successfully makes sure Heizou has a good time.  And, if Heizou is having a good time, Kazuha is enjoying himself too.

It really didn’t take that long to get ready, not that Kazuha thought it would.  Yes, both Heizou and him dressed nice, but neither of them are entirely dressed as if they were going somewhere fancy.  Heizou is quite literally wearing a leather jacket, so no one would really classify it as fancy anyways.

But the two still find themselves in Kazuha’s car, some music softly playing through the speakers.  The road to the city is smooth, an easy drive for anyone who decides to take the time to do it.  Kazuha has always liked the road late at night, the tranquility around him far too divine to logistically ignore. 

Kazuha’s grip tightens a tad on the steering wheel as he drives, his gaze looking to the road.  “Hey Heizou?”

“Hmm?” Heizou hums, seemingly excited about the date as he is looking out the window as if he has never seen this road before, even though this is the same road he drives to work.  Now that Kazuha thinks about it, perhaps Heizou is excited to finally be out of the house.  He hasn’t really left for a while after all.

“What is going on between you and Scara?”

Kazuha doesn’t have to see Heizou to know that he has paused, most likely looking at Kazuha in shock.  “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Kazuha trails off, still not dropping his gaze on the road.  “Ever since you two came back from…the incident,” Kazuha starts, still refusing to vocalize what happened, “Scara has quite literally refused to be alone with you.  So what happened?”

“…”

The silence is deafening, and Kazuha doesn’t like that.  Mostly, he dislikes Heizou hiding things from him, but he also dislikes the multiple possibilities running through his mind.  “Heizou, tell me.”

“…”

“Heizou-“

“I kissed Scaramouche.”

The car swerves before Kazuha even realizes that he did so.  For the first time in the car ride, Kazuha tears his eyes from the road, instead deciding to park the car and stare at Heizou.  “Tell me everything.”

Heizou shifts uncomfortably, refusing to meet Kazuha’s gaze.  “When he was telling me that I needed to run back when Dottore got me…I didn’t know if he’d live.  I didn’t even know if I’d live…” Heizou trails off, seemingly attempting to figure out how he is going to phrase things.  “So I kind of just…kissed him?”

Kazuha can’t help it, he starts to burst out laughing.  “Were you cheesy too?  What exactly did you say when you did it?”

“…I told him that he needed to live.”

Kazuha laughs harder, resting his forehead on the steering wheel.  His shoulders shake due to his laughter, and while he is well aware of the fact that Heizou is not laughing at all, he can’t help but still find the scenario funny.  Not the details that led to the scene, obviously, but just the idea of such an action reminds Kazuha of those cheesy romance movies.

“I thought you’d be mad.”

“Why the hell would I be mad?” Kazuha questions, his brows furrowed at the idea.  “We both said that as long as we communicate, going out with other people is fine.  You communicated, albeit reluctantly, so I have no reason to be mad.” Kazuha sends a look to Heizou that isn’t particularly meant to be taken seriously at all.  “If you would’ve lied about it, then I would’ve been pissed.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

“Dude, we’re both poly…non-monogamy is kind of our thing.  Would you be jealous if I kissed Scaramouche?”

Kazuha doesn’t want to think about the fact that Heizou’s pupils visibly dilate at the idea.  But, since Heizou clears his throat, clearly wishing to distract from the idea, Kazuha doesn’t dwell.  “I wouldn’t be jealous, no.”

“I’m just pissed because you did it first.”

“…what?”

Kazuha runs a hand through his hair, chuckling at Heizou’s reaction.  “Did you not realize that I’ve liked him?  Thought I was pretty obvious.”

“Ah…” Heizou mutters, unbuckling his seatbelt so that he can rest his head on Kazuha’s shoulder.  “So we like the same guy?”

“I think so.”

“And does he even like either of us?”

“I’m not sure.”

“We are screwed aren’t we?”

“Kinda.”

Both Heizou and Kazuha burst out laughing together, resting on the other.  They don’t laugh for a long time, their chuckles dying down within a minute, morphing into a comfortable silence between the two.  Kazuha looks toward Heizou, staring at him for a moment before saying, “what are we going to do?”

“Confess to him?”

Kazuha lifts his head, going back to sitting up so that Heizou and him can look at eachother.  “But would that be okay?  I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

But Heizou just shrugs, clearly not knowing the best course of action either.  “Pretty sure I already did.” His smile drops at the idea, an expression that represents a grimace showing up on his face.  “If he doesn’t even like me like that I’m fucked.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Kazuha asks, even though the thought has crossed his mind.  If Scaramouche doesn’t actually like him in that way, it could genuinely ruin the dynamic all three of them have.  “Heizou, you’re perfect.”

“…you’re a really bad liar.”

“It’s not a lie,” Kazuha casually says, not really moving.  But, an idea comes to mind, one that he cannot ignore.  “Wait, do we even know if he’s gay?”

Both of them sit up, staring at each other in shock, mostly due to the fact that neither of them thought of that before.  “He…wait do you think he might be homophobic?” Heizou asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Well think about it, he’s from heaven!  What if they talk about how being gay is wrong?” Heizou questions, shaking Kazuha’s shoulders a little as he talks.

And Kazuha can only stare at him in shock.  For someone who is supposed to be possibly one of the smartest people in the country…Kazuha’s boyfriend is an idiot sometimes.  “Heizou…if he was homophobic he would’ve said something months ago.”

“…I didn’t think about that.”

Kazuha rolls his eyes, pushing Heizou away playfully.  “I think we should get going, don’t want Kiminami to be overcrowded.”

“We’re still going to Kiminami?”

Kazuha raises a brow, staring at Heizou for a moment.  “Obviously we’re going to Kiminami.”

“But what about Scara?”

Kazuha glances at Heizou, offering him an unsure smile.  “We’ll figure it out once we get home.”

●•·•●

When Scaramouche notices the two humans return home, he can’t help but feel happy for them.  Both of them look happy, holding hands as they enter the house.  Clearly, they had a good time, which is great.  He likes the smiles on their faces.  He likes the small touches shared between the two that are obviously an attempt to be covert. 

Both of them collapse onto the couch, leaning on each other immediately in a way that is far too sickly sweet for Scaramouche to even be able to stand.  But, Scaramouche pushes those thoughts away, instead forcing himself to talk to them.  “How was the date?”

“It was actually pretty nice,” Kazuha says, eyes scanning Scaramouche’s expression as if he is searching for something.  “Did you eat tonight?”  Scaramouche attempts to avoid eye contact, mostly due to the fact that he still really doesn’t know how to cook.  He shouldn’t be embarrassed, mostly due to the fact that he was never taught, but it’s still embarrassing in his mind.  “Scara…”

“…no.”

Kazuha doesn’t frown, he doesn’t grumble, and he doesn’t even look annoyed with Scaramouche.  In fact, he seems more concerned than anything.  Kazuha and Heizou share a look before Kazuha stands, grabbing Scaramouche’s wrist lightly so he can tug him toward the kitchen.  

“Do you not know how to cook?” Kazuha asks, already grabbing a few items that can make a quick meal.  He doesn’t sound like he is judging Scaramouche when he asks, sounding more curious than anything.  “It’s okay if you don’t, I can teach you.  Beidou and Ningguang taught me so I’m actually pretty good.”

“Angels never really needed to know how to cook…”

“Well, you’re leaning now so put on an apron,” Kazuha says with a smile, already slipping on his own apron.  Scaramouche hesitantly grabs for the extra one, which he assumes to be Heizou’s, and slips it on.  That action easily brings a smile to Kazuha’s face, causing a small bit of blush to settle on Scaramouche’s face as he thinks about the fact that he made Kazuha smile.

Scaramouche cannot help but stare as Kazuha starts cutting vegetables.  His shirt sleeves are pulled up, so Scaramouche has a full view of Kazuha’s arms.  Honestly, just a small bit of visible skin and veins becoming visible for a few seconds at a time should not distract Scaramouche, but it unfortunately does.  And Kazuha looks like he’s in his element completely, knowing exactly what to do in every moment.

Kazuha is humming as he scoops up vegetables and puts them in a pot.  Scaramouche almost jumps in shock when the flame on the stove erupts, quickly starting to heat up the food.  “Let this simmer for a few minutes, and you’ll be all set,” Kazuha says, placing a lid on the pot and taking off his apron.  He looks at Scaramouche, seemingly thinking about something before intently staring at him.  “Scara, Heizou told me something that I want to talk to you about.”

Scaramouche freezes at those words, nervously staring at Kazuha.  “Kazuha, I-“

“Are you okay?” Kazuha immediately asks, stepping closer to Scaramouche as he talks.  The human looks sincere, looking directly into Scaramouche’s eyes.  “Heizou meant well, but he should’ve asked.”

“I…” Scaramouche tails off, quite distracted if he’s being honest with himself.  “It wasn’t terrible.  I mean…I didn’t mind it…particularly.”

Kazuha grins at such a statement, which surprises Scaramouche.  He assumed the human would be mad…not happy.  “So you like Heizou?”

“No!” Scaramouche exclaims, raising his hands in protest on instinct but immediately regretting it due to the action accentuating just how close he is to Kazuha.

“Scara…” Kazuha mutters, grabbing Scaramouche’s hand.  The action makes him look away, a bit too embarrassed to really face him.  “Not all humans are monogamous.  Heizou and I have already discussed that if either of us were to become attracted to someone else, it wouldn’t change anything.” Scaramouche feels a hand on his chin before he is urged to look up, greeted with Kazuha being extremely close.  “So if you like Heizou, that’s okay.”

Scaramouche’s eyes widen at the idea, his mind wandering for a second before he banished those thoughts.  No, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.  Although, he really can’t help it when he stares at Kazuha, the reality of Kazuha being so close that he can touch the other without even extending his hand out.

And Kazuha, being observant, seems to notice this as well.  “Can I try something?”

“What would that be?”

“I want to kiss you,” Kazuha says in a straightforward way, his face a few inches from Scaramouche’s.  “But if you don’t want to, I understand.”

Scaramouche really can’t think at this moment.  It’s like multiple thoughts fight to take over, leaving his entire mind a mess.  And he doesn’t feel pressured into answering any sort of way, which makes it easier.  “Why?”

And Kazuha genuinely smiles at this question, his eyes crinkling a bit.  “I like you.  That’s actually pretty much it.” His nose scrunches up immediately after saying those words.  “Why the hell are these types of things so cheesy?  I don’t even know how I could phrase that differently.”

“Yeah…that was pretty cheesy,” Scaramouche says while chuckling, not ignoring the fact that Kazuha’s expression turns hopeful for a moment.  His eyes involuntarily glance at Kazuha’s lips for a moment before he can even think, causing him to blush a bit.  “But it’s okay.”

“Yeah?” Kazuha asks, getting a bit closer.

Scaramouche just pauses for a moment, his thoughts short circuiting.  “Yeah, it’s okay.” Kazuha leans a bit closer, obviously searching Scaramouche’s eyes for anything that will say he’s uncomfortable with the situation.  And, while Scaramouche still isn’t quite convinced that he deserves anything like this, he also isn’t against it.  So he can only nod at Kazuha.

Kazuha takes this as the confirmation he needs, pressing his lips onto Scaramouche’s.  At first, Scaramouche doesn’t really know what to think…at first he really can’t think.  But when he is able to think, he cannot help but feel awkward over the fact that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  Kazuha is holding his hand still, but the way he is doing so makes it where Scaramouche can pull away at any time.  He finds his heart rate increasing, especially as he starts enjoying it.

But that is not to last.

Kazuha pulls away, making sure to look at Scaramouche in a kind manner.  “Are you okay?” Scaramouche just kind of nods, words stuck in his throat.  It’s not common for him to be speechless, but here he is.  So Kazuha just presses a soft kiss onto Scaramouche’s forehead, almost humming in content. “Good.”

“That was so sweet…”  Both of them look startled as they turn toward the new voice, who just so happens to be Heizou.  Heizou just waves, knowing fully well that he ruined any sort of moment they were having.  “Absolutely nauseating too.”

“You’re just mad because I talked to him about it before you could,” Kazuha retorts, stepping away from Scaramouche so that he can check the soup.  “Well, the soup is done, so that’s something.”

But Scaramouche just kind of stands there, kind of confused.  “Don’t we need to talk?”

“Hmm?” Kazuha looks at Scaramouche, a soft smile on his face.  “If you want to, we can.  Or we can eat and talk later.”

“But this is…”

“Are you attracted to Heizou?” Kazuha questions, still holding the pot of soup.  Scaramouche nods, making Heizou practically beam in happiness.  “And are you attracted to me?” Once again, Scaramouche nods in response.  “Then we can talk later, but you need to eat.”

And, even if their conversation took a while to actually happen, Scaramouche does have to admit that the soup was really good.

masterlist

09<< >>11

#lowlylux #fanfiction #genshin impact #heizou #genshin impact fanfiction #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #genshin #eventual smut #fallen angel au #heiscara #heikazuscara #kazuscarahei #kazuscara #kazuhei #scarakazuhei #scarahei #scaramouche #archive of our own #ao3

[swordmaid]

Gosh Ell✨😍 vampire Jam is amazing, but mermaid Brie is absolutely my fave (with super long hair!)🧜🏻‍♀️ love them both and you obv

awe thank u!! honestly i think mermaid bri looks really cute haha she earns her freckles when she turns human and her skin gets more and more exposed to the sun (”: 

#i still dk how the au will end tho bc in one hand maggy taking her eyes in exchange for a heart seems cruel already #since she already went through the whole pain while being human (keeping the aspect of the little mermaid's feet getting cut by knives #everytime she walked) but on the other the sea took galladon so she can go freely #but it seems weird to bring that up so late mdfgndgf im still thinking........ #maybe i am down for a blind bri ending but that just seems So cruel idk hhhhhhM #Anonymous

[luxwritesfanfic]

Right Where You Left Me

Reader gets déjà vu in a way she never expected. Or, the one where Sherlock is the gift that never stops giving. AU!Bucky because he always has your back. Enjoy!

Author’s Note: There is a lot of angst and multiple different aspects that could be very triggering for some within this work. Please be mindful of the trigger warning below and if you see something that you feel should be listed, message me and I will edit accordingly!

Trigger Warning: Severe depression, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt (overdose), forced vomiting, talk of death in general, angst with a happy ending

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You couldn’t really tell how long you’d been lying in bed for. Time was such a foreign concept to you now. It was either before the fall, when you were happy and he was with you, or after the fall, where you were all alone. You weren’t alone physically because your friends would never allow for that. Since the fall, you’d been staying in Sherlock’s flat, and Mrs. Hudson would always bring you a plate of whatever she was cooking and put it in the fridge. And like clockwork, she’d come every Sunday and clean the fridge out from where you didn’t touch any of the plates. She never seemed to mind, though, and she never stopped bringing you food.  

Bucky would come by every day and check on you and help you do things around the house. And by help you, he did everything for you. Mrs. Hudson would let him stay in John’s old room whenever he needed, and he’d make sure you showered and that your laundry was done. He would tell you he does this because he loves you and that even though you weren’t born his sister, you would die that way.

John had moved on and moved out and you were happy for him. Mary was lovely, and you wished you could move on with your life, but you couldn’t. You knew he was taking it just as hard as you and that you both just had different ways of coping with the pain.  

When you had to quit your job, Mycroft was immediately there and offered to take care of you financially. “Please, allow me to do this for you. It’s what my brother would have wanted. He couldn’t stand me when he was ali—here, so the least I can do is make him happy where he is now,” he said quietly. Pigs must’ve been flying in the window behind you because when you reached to hug Mycroft, he met you halfway. You cried nonstop for days after that.

You had tried to be better after the scare, not for you, but for your family. You don’t remember much from it, but you do know that no one brings it up around you and you haven’t been left alone for longer than a few hours since.

You woke up with your face propped up against something cool, but you could barely open your eyes to see where you were. Your stomach was in the most pain it had ever been in and everything around you sounded so far away. You remember being yanked back and fingers were shoved down your throat and someone, Bucky, was standing over you and holding you up saying through tears, “I know it hurts and I’m sorry, but you have to throw it up, Y/N. You have to. I can’t lose you, too.”  

Everything hurt and in between gags you could hear Mrs. Hudson crying and begging whoever was on the phone to get there faster. You had never heard anyone scream like that and you were sorry you were the one who caused it.

Even though you’d promised Sherlock he would never lose you, Fate stepped in and you lost him. When you thought about the turn your life had taken, you just told everyone you were keeping your end of the deal.  

Bucky knocked on your door and stuck his head in. “Mornin’, Y/N. I’m gonna start some laundry and make us some coffee and then I’ll be back, okay?” You could tell he was worried by the tone of his voice, but he did a good job of hiding it. You didn’t say anything back to it and he didn’t expect you to.  

Bucky came in a little later with some towels in his hand and a coffee in the other. “I know you’re not feeling real good today, so I was thinking I could wash your hair for you? You can just bend over the tub and I’ll do all the work. I’ve even been watching some videos on how to braid and then you won’t have to worry it matting up either.” He set the coffee down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed next to you.  

By this point you were already crying into the pillow because how could the people in your life love you this much when you had nothing to offer them anymore?

“I love you so much,” you cried, and Bucky’s heart broke at the sound, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry and I love you.”

He brushed the hair away from your face. His hands were warm, and it made you feel human again. “You don’t have to be sorry. I love you and I will take care of you for however long you need me to. God knows you would-- and have, done the same for me. So, let me wash your hair for you and I can tell you all about how Lestrade constantly shits on Anderson now as an eternal tribute.”  

You smiled and although it wasn’t full of life, he was just as happy to see it. You ended up just getting a shower and Bucky rushed next door to get you a sandwich in hopes that you’d eat for him, too.  

As you were brushing your hair out, you heard multiple voices. You heard Bucky, and he sounded… shocked? And then there was John and then just as you were about to reach for the door you heard it. You would know that baritone voice anywhere. Barging out of the bathroom and almost tripping over your own two feet, you came to a full stop.

“Sherlock?”  

There he stood in the middle of the room with John a few feet behind him, and Bucky with his back to you, seemingly always ready to protect you. It looked like him and it sounded like him, and hell, it even smelled like him. You couldn’t believe it.

“Y/N.” He went to make a step towards you but seemed to have think better of it. It was better if he assessed your reaction to seeing him first. It had been so long since he had last seen you and while he silently fought the raw want he had to hold you, he knew you were seeing red.

“I don’t even—I can’t-- can’t even comprehend this. Where do I start? Where the fuck have you been? You were dead, Sherlock! I watched you…” You squeezed your eyes shut, steeling yourself the best you could. You weren’t going to cry. You had too much to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John and Bucky slip through the front door. You were sure that was their best bet.

Sherlock said nothing as you went off because there was really nothing for him to say. He understood why you were so mad with him, even if he wasn’t generally self-aware when it came to his own feelings, he wasn’t that daft. He had come prepared for this and he was going to make it right.

“No, you know what? Don’t say anything. I don’t even want to hear it. I have been fucking rotting in this flat while everyone else was able to move on with their lives. I was here, because I couldn’t live without you. My world stopped. I do nothing, Sherlock, nothing but sit and lay in your bed and cry into your old shirts!” You were yelling now, hands running through your hair as you tried to make sense of it all. Somewhere in the back of your mind you made a mental note to thank Bucky for making you get up and shower this morning.

“I quit my job, Sherlock. Mycroft has been paying to keep me alive and Mrs. Hudson and Bucky take turns to make sure I’m still breathing every other hour because they’re scared that if I’m left alone for too long, I won’t be. And poor John, I see him and start fucking bawling because then all I see is you. I stopped caring about everything, and everyone else, because the only person I cared about looked me in the eyes and walked off a fucking building!”

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.  

“Seriously, don’t speak. You don’t get to just waltz in with John after all this time—you know what? There’s the million-dollar question. Was I the only one who didn’t know you were alive? Because so help me God, Sherlock, I’m this close to losing it.”

He didn’t know whether or not he should actually speak, but he took the cue after he started to physically feel the heat from the deathly glare you were giving him. You quite literally looked deranged but that didn’t stop him from taking a step towards you. He always seemed to chase danger, and you were no exception.

“No… you weren’t the only one. John only just found out a few weeks ago, and only a few select people knew the whole time.” Sherlock was careful with his words. He knew he was walking on thin ice.

You didn’t say anything to that, and Sherlock found that even scarier than when you were yelling.

“Hah, select people, huh? I like that one. So, where were you staying? Were you in London this whole time? Shit, you could’ve been downstairs for all I know. I guess I wouldn’t be a select person to know that, though, would I?”

Sherlock grimaced. Things were going worse than he imagined, and he already figured it would be pretty bad. That was an understatement. “I had to jump around often for everyone’s safety, but I stayed in London for the most part. I stayed with Molly when I could.”

You laughed in his face at that, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, turning your back on him lest you start laughing again. He watched you with furrowed brows and you knew he wanted to speak but you couldn’t do it right now.  You took a few steps towards the kitchen window and looked out at the bustling London streets beneath you. For months your world stopped, and it seemed so real when in reality nothing stopped at all.  

“Great, great. That’s so great. Splendid, really.” You murmured to yourself and perched your free hand on your hip. Drumming your fingers against your lips, you began again.  

“Bucky had to glue the windows down because he thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly.” The tone of your voice was venomous and if looks could kill, Sherlock Holmes would be dead for real this time.

Sherlock winced. “Y/N, please, let me—” You cut him off, speaking louder this time. Your face was void of emotion, but your eyes betrayed you as the tears started to fall freely and your voice cracked under the weight of everything that was being said.

“Bucky had to glue the windows down because I thought I was going to jump, and you were staying with Molly! Damn you, Sherlock Holmes! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” You grasped at the kitchen counter to steady yourself as you gasped for air between the sobs that you couldn’t contain anymore. Your heart ached so badly that you actually clutched your chest, afraid that it was going to break through your ribcage and abandon ship. You could barely register Sherlock coming up behind you through your tears and as he willed you to face him, you noticed that his eyes were brimmed red and glossy. Even sad, Sherlock looked as beautiful as a doll.

“I always come when you call, why didn’t you come for me?” You cried, fisting your hands in his shirt so tightly that you thought heard buttons pop. Your head was swimming and you had never felt more betrayed in your life. How could Sherlock turn to anyone but you? Had you not made it clear that you would do anything for him?  

“I called for you every single night, Sherlock! Begged for you, mourned you, I—” The tears wouldn’t stop flowing and your voice was starting to crack from its sudden and harsh overuse.

It was then that Sherlock wedged himself so close to you that you didn’t even have the space to move your head and look up at him. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your back and you were being squeezed so hard to him that you thought you’d either die from a heart attack or suffocation. And even now at the hands of Sherlock, neither seemed that bad. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispered against your forehead again and again as if he was repeating a chant he had been practicing for some time.

“I love you so much and you didn’t even call! Why didn’t you call?” Your words were lost to the both of you now, spoken into his shirt and distorted by your sobs. Sherlock held you as you cried and tried to contain your shaking body against his as you let out months of sadness and pain and despair. You were so overwhelmed that you couldn’t think straight.  

“I know, I know you do, and that’s why I couldn’t call. I couldn’t call for you.” He held onto you as he spoke like you would disappear. Sherlock had decided before he even stepped foot into the flat that he would not lose you again. In his time away from you, he was subjected to feelings he could only describe as both love and heartbreak in equal measure. Being apart from you had left him feeling a void that nothing could fill, but it was his love for you that he relied on to keep you safe and away from him.  

Sherlock pulled back from you and while it was only by a few inches, you suddenly felt worlds away. You go to pull him back to you when he gathers your hands in his and leaves a trail of ghostly kisses along the spread of your knuckles.  

“I have never begged for mercy in my life…” He murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. He was determined; that much you could tell. Your eyes widened as he lowered himself to one knee, and then two. “Until now. I have hurt you in ways that are beyond comprehensible. Please, grant me the mercy I do not deserve to explain myself. I am willing to bare myself before you if you’ll have me.”

You were in shock at the sight of Sherlock on his knees before you. You had heard him apologize maybe twice in your time of knowing him and here he was, begging for you to hear him out. All you could do is nod.

You expected him to stand up again, but he sat in place and looked up at you with so much love in his eyes that felt all the anger you were harboring dissipate under his gaze. He took a deep breath and prepared himself. If you were ever going to forgive him, he knew that he would have to be honest. And he knew that if he was going to be honest, he would have to admit the feelings he had for you and hope that he could express them in a way that you could understand.

“There were constantly people watching you, and John, and pretty much everyone else who held any value in my life,” he explained, rubbing his thumbs over your fingers as he spoke absentmindedly, “they knew you would be suffering, they counted on that. And if you weren’t, they’d know something was going on. Your suffering had to be real, or else it wouldn’t have been believable. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark. But I had no choice. When I faked my death, I had some help. I stayed with Molly here and there because she already knew, and my relationship with her is is…different for ours.” He paused.  

You were hanging on every word he said. You could tell he was being sincere, and even though you were upset, you understood. If leaving Sherlock meant protecting him, you would do it too.  

He cleared his throat and started again. “Molly was a safer option. They would have expected less of a reaction from her. And if things were to go wrong…” Trailing off, Sherlock squeezed your hands. You knew what he was trying to say, and you didn’t dare breathe. “You were not someone I could lose. It couldn’t have been you. So yes, I stayed with Molly, but I worked constantly to make it so that I could come home to you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Sherlock,” you whimpered, pulling him to his feet by his collar and back to you where he belonged. He followed suit quickly like he was reading your mind.  

For what seemed like the first time today, you were truly taking him in. He was just as beautiful as he was the day he left you. You reached up to brush away a stray curl from his eyes and smiled at the way he seemed to try and follow your touch.  

There were so many things that you couldn’t be sure of, but this is something you’d always know to be true. You loved Sherlock, terribly, terribly, so. If loving him was the only purpose you ever found in this lifetime, you would be sure not to fail him.

You were lost in other when the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs drew your attention. Sherlock followed your gaze as you watched John enter the flat from the living room.

“Is everyone okay up here? There was a lot of yelling and then it got pretty quiet…” As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you braced against the counter with a small amount of space between you and Sherlock that he must’ve recently graced you with because you could barely move before. His hands rested on your hips and your hands had found solace on his shoulders. John looked like a deer caught in headlights before he covered his eyes with his hands and made to walk back out, determined not to ruin the moment that all of London was waiting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! Don’t mind me, pretend I was never here!” He called out as he dashed back down the stairs so quickly you thought he had fallen and you were sure you heard him say to someone, “I told you so!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation and when you looked back at Sherlock, you realized he was already looking at you. Even after everything today, you still caught yourself feeling nervous under his heavy gaze.  

“So, it’s okay when you stare but not when I do?” You teased, hoping that he couldn’t see the blush you could surely feel. Sherlock squinted his eyes at your comment as if he didn’t understand what you meant but gave you a devilish smile all the same.  

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. “But you are confirming that you do stare at me, right?”  

You were torn between smacking the smirk off his face or kissing it, whatever compelled you the most and right now it was a tie. Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands down to his arms and gave them a squeeze. Not even realizing you were thinking out loud, you whispered something about having déjà vu. This caught Sherlock’s attention, and he moved tiniest bit closer to you. “Déjà vu? How so?”

Cursing yourself under your breath, you laughed and dipped your head down between the two of you, laughing at how ridiculous all of this was. “Jeez, it’s been years now. I had the most realistic dream that’s stuck with me all this time.”

Sherlock tsked at you and moved to bring your head back up so that he could properly see your face. He cupped your cheeks and in the most familiar way and just like in the dream, you were breathless.  

“Go on,” he urged, voice like velvet, “tell me what happened in your dream.”

You all but melted under his gaze. Sherlock, in any form, would always have this effect on you it seemed. His thumb brushed along your lower lip as his own parted. Physically he was with you, but mentally he was far away committing this memory to only a place he could see.

“Use your words. I’m paying raft attention, aren’t I?” Once again you thanked Mrs. Hudson and her choice in countertops because if it was any less sturdy you were sure you would collapse and bring him down with you. On second thought—

Any coherent thought was lost to you when Sherlock nosed your cheek, and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips or the words after.

“I told you I loved you, Sherlock. That’s what happened in the dream.” Your words were spoken so quickly in the effort to chase after his lips but he held you still, waiting and wanting in front of him.  

You whined like a child. None of anything that happened today was fair to you, but one kiss and you would forgive all of London for keeping your detective’s secret.

“Well, I guess the only proper response to that is for me to tell you that I’ve loved you for ages, my dear girl.” He smiled against your skin and you thought that this was it. You had officially lost your last marble, and this was the delirium finally setting in. You welcomed the insanity happily.

“Say it again, please. I need to hear you say it again.” You begged, everything hitting you at all at once.

“I love you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you, and it’s only ever been you. It couldn’t be anyone else but you. You…didn’t you know that?” His eyebrows rose up and you stopped him in his tracks. That was Sherlock for “are you dumb?”

It was then that you decided you were done with talking before he had the chance to say anything smart. You pulled him down to you so quickly that you missed the shock that flashed in his eyes when your lips finally met. After years of yearning and pining for the man in front of you, you finally had him right where you wanted him. There were so many things you wanted to say to him, but no words would express how you truly felt about him and lucky for you, Sherlock was more of a hands-on learner.  

When you finally broke apart, you got to admire the man of your every hour in all his glory. The mussed hair and kiss swollen lips really added to his already suave look and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “You’re handsome. So handsome, seriously, it should really be a crime. I can finally tell you that without any shame.”

He returned your smile tenfold, and you thought if you could make his eyes crinkle like that just one more time in your life that it would be a life well lived. He acted as if he was mulling your statement over, rolling his bottom lip between teeth. “You could’ve mentioned it before. It might’ve helped me make my deductions much sooner.”

You slapped him on the shoulder but then worked on smoothing his shirt out while he watched you with a gentle fondness that he reserved just for you. You still had so many questions that you wanted answered but you knew those could wait. Something had been generous enough to answer your most asked prayer and you weren’t about to be ungrateful for even a second.  

Placing one last (for now) kiss on his cheek, you led him to the door to the flat and swung it open. “Hey, has Mrs. Hudson seen you—”

As if on perfect cue, Mrs. Hudson shrieks so loudly that any bad memory you have of her yelling is now a good one.

“Sherlock!”

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock imagine #sherlock #sherlock has feelings #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #luxwrites #bucky x reader #au bucky barnes

[xuyaa]

Age gaps

Ahh... I dread this but I'll speak anyway. I keep seeing people have a problem with big age gap couple in fandom. Now before your nostrils all fluff up let me say this, if you can't have an open mind or too fragile for my input please take your leave. This would be wasted on you.

About age gap on fandoms couple (canon or crack) I personally have no problem as long as both parties consent (without child grooming or forced relationship aspect) and considered legal at the start of their relationship and the legality here is not referring to our modern standard but on the couple's world and time. I'll try to explain but it might get long and boring but if you're still okay, continue.

I'll give an example, during the age of samurai if the situation permits like Uesugi Kenshin they can join battle at age 13 and there are still other examples of other famous child samurai. We call it child now because time change but during that time they were considered an adult once they enter battlefield. Why? They already trained years prior to kill and to protect their lord. Example of this in anime would be Himura Kenshin from Rurouni Kenshin. His first marriage was when he's around 16 and that was an acceptable age at that era since he was considered adult at age 14. So even though I find it icky if modern day teenager marry at that age, I can understand Kenshin's situation. If I'm still okay reading about him killing people around at even younger age I'm not gonna complain about him wanting to marry (although it's not that simple white and black for him).

You get what I'm trying to say?

More example of the acceptable norms in past era. During certain era in certain place like for example Victorian England and prior, 14 year old boys and 12 year old girls are passable for marriage depends on whether the family want it or not as it's more political than anything else. Same in China for example during the Manchurian Dynasty 14 year old girl is considered adult enough for marriage. And usually the age of the husband is always older by few years up to few decades (officials and emperor). But of course over time all of the above would change. Not by much maybe? Depend on the country I say.

Still we can't just hold the old days custom and norms on our modern day standard that would be akin to the present you calling your two or three year-old self a moron for defecating and not wiping your own ass. Or like when you do something stupid at your young age (pick whatever stupid situation that you have take as a lesson. Done?). You just didn't know better back then but now you do and from your failure you learn, although it would be better if you learn from other's lesson but I say pain is an effective lesson for oneself. Would you rather have that memories of your lesson be removed or ignored? I wouldn't. I don't know if I might do the stupid thing again just to find out whether I can or not. Same as this this whole age gap, young age marriage in the past and present in some customs thing. Don't erase the fact, don't gloss it over because people have and can still learn from them. My grandma married at young age and I came to be as the result of her choice.

Have you ever seen high schooler called Robert D Jr handsome? I've seen it recently on youtube. They call him very handsome and another video talked about cool and handsome senior male models. I've scrolled through the comments and no one seems offended that these high school girls simping for male old enough to be their granddad. These girls called them daddy and commenting how hot they are and the comments either agree or saying the girls reactions are cute. Huh... reverse the situation if these old models commenting female korean idol for example and calling them cute or hot what would people think? "creepy" "pedobear" even though senior female might think the same lines, heck maybe even we think the same lines. See the double standard people use? Maybe not everyone, but the loud ones are there. They're so loud I don't even know if they're majority or minority. I have celebrity crush too when I was young and as it happen, he's my father's age and to be frank, I would not mind an older partner if said partner is compatible and emotionaly mature. My sister is 17 years younger than her husband and they turn out well because her husband is matured enough to understand her ups and downs emotion back when they're dating, even before. Are all men mature emotionally as they became older then? No, just as not all oranges is sweet. My sister is 10 years my senior but she's more bratty than I am sometimes. Is it wrong of my bro in law to be with my sis?

Oh you're just trying to defend pedophilia anywayヽ(`Д´)ﾉ.

No stupid, I'm trying to make you think. I don't accept pedophilia, shotacon or lolicon. My sis is old enough to be called spinster when they go out. Anyway, when you follow a certain series, try to see it from their era and custom's perspective. Some era is okay with 16 year old marrying. Some tribes in Asia allow marriage between cousins while others and the majority of the world frown upon them. That's just how they see and do things. For me as long as both side consent without pressure and not in the case of 'parents sending their child for marriage without their input' thing I'm okay to leave that alone, I'm pretty much sure we're on the same page there. I hope.

So, just as when you come to another country, you adhere to their rules and norms or you have no right to complain if they deport you out for not learning beforehand and breaking their rules. Or when you have a guest come to your home and they suddenly start demanding you to do stuff their way, you should kick them out if not slapping their face. Or if you want to be kind, explain how you do things in your home and hoping they would understand and respect it.

I'm jumping around but see what I'm trying to say? I'll get to another anime example.

In Naruto for instance, they became genin at 12 and killing people left and right. People are okay with that right? Yeah well, since it was soo popular I suppose... besides it's pretty glossed over in both manga and anime. But the same people that's okay with children killing left and right, would they be okay if suddenly the mangaka put in story about one of the chara going on seduction mission? If it's carried out well as in the chara being bamf, maybe no problem. But if things went south for the chara? I'm sure there will be outrage, especially if that's a female chara or worse if it's one of the main like Sakura. See? People hold the characters, the series and the mangaka to their own convenient double standards. Back to the age gap when shipping, I pick Naruto as example because apparently Sakura was just so shippable that people actually ship her with Kakashi and even Madara and she makes easy example. Don't ask me why she's shipped with Madara and I don't ship any of the two with Sakura. Anyway, if Sakura is mature enough to choose to kill as a teenager (and don't give me crap about Sakura never killing on screen. Their line of work involves lots of death and she's been through war) she's mature enough to decide her romantic partner even if it's suddenly Orochimaru(ㆆ_ㆆ) (did they even exist?). You can say her taste is terrible because he's an asshole but don't say it's gross cause the age difference because apparently Orochimaru can just rejuvenated to new body and be as good as a babe (I wish I could too). Anyway saying it's about age on these kind of chara is just straight up lie on people's part. Another example I can think of atm is snk. I've seen people against pairing the 104th with the veterans because of age gap. Now I'm not trying to be rude, but hear me if you please. The whole 104th are trained child soldiers and they're killing titans and even humans. You're all okay with that? If you still follow the series far enough and liking it maybe you enjoy seeing the action sequence, drama and intrigue? The fact that you still come back to the series after this long proves that you're still okay with all the gores and blood spilled with all the glorious child soldier most of all. They become soldier because of circumstances you say? I'm glad you think so too! Although I must point out, the 104th did CHOOSE to be soldiers (just as Naruto and co choose to be ninja). They could be farmers or thugs for all we know. All the soldiers in snk choose their occupation, thay all trained and decide to join the Survey Corps, in fact the only one that join reluctantly in the first place is the former thug although he continues in the end. That aside, their circumstances certainly are different than us don't they? They don't even know a car and blip exist before Marley... They must have a whole lot of different mindset and norms than ours too for a civilization whose life are about survival against titans that's 100 years behind than other civilization in their world. Ever think of that?

Seeing modern day teenage in romantic lights are indeed hard as I'm sure the majority can't even survive without their gadget and parents' money. I certainly can't at that age. Immature. Even those in their twenties and thirties are immature these days. But now when one of those child soldier who have a whole lot of different mindset and maturity level is being shipped with older chara, you're against it. Okay. Maybe it's indeed easier for you to see 15 year olds regardless of their profession to commit act of violence and even kill than to love... (does that sounds okay to you?)

...I'm not saying killing mindlessly is alright because it is NOT. But that would need a whole lot different threads and time to spare and maybe someone else can do it or already done it before me.

But here's the good thing, even when the ship starts when they grow and at the modern legal age of 18 and 19, or even far above like centuries, it's still not okay for some people to ship them. I don't mind if it's your preference and you don't go disturbing other's corner when they don't even enforce their ship as words of god and even acknowledging that 'yes, maybe it's not canon and just our bits of fun' but sometimes it got to the point of belittling those who do ship age gap couple and treat them like a criminal in need of help or wishing them death. Seriously? Yes. People are that immature.

If you don't like a ship because you think your own is better, fine. Do your thing in your corner but don't go to other people's corner just to talk shit without even knowing why they ship what they ship. Most of this ship is just in our head in the end, and even if your ship is canon it does not make you any greater in real life.

I can't think of anything else to say now, but thanks for reading with open mind. ◝(⑅•ᴗ•⑅)◜..°♡

Now before anyone waste their time typing out comments, I refer to my first paragraph. Here's some imaginary flower for you all🌷

Apparently I'm not clear enough so I fix my wording. I'm here not defending minor and old people relationship but age gap couple who happen to be aged up to acceptable age despite their profession. Here's some choco🍫

#shipping #again apparently #kakasaku #madasaku #sasosaku #rivamika #rivahisu #hopurai #don't know what else to tag

[annabethisterrified]

Book Review: THE TOWER OF NERO (The Trials of Apollo #5)

***No spoilers until you go under the cut!***

After months in the human form of Lester Papadopoulos, the former god Apollo is nearing the end of his trials alongside the young Meg McCaffrey. All their adventures and misfortunes have landed them back in the place it started-- New York. Meg and Apollo must defeat the final, most powerful emperor of the Triumvirate, who also happens to be Meg’s manipulative stepfather. Meanwhile, Nico, Will, and Rachel have important roles to play as the final battle looms. Even if they can defeat Nero, a more terrible enemy awaits in the form of Python, Apollo’s nemesis. Still, if they can succeed, Apollo will finally be restored to godhood. But after everything he’s been through, going back to the way things were doesn’t sound so great anymore. Apollo and his friends will have to find a new way to make all the sacrifices and pain they’ve experienced and witnessed worth it. That is, if they can survive their final trial.

As both the culmination of The Trials of Apollo series and the Camp Half-Blood Chronicles, The Tower of Nero excels at bringing the complicated, moving themes of the saga into final, meaningful reckonings. Nero proves to be a chilling and impressive enemy who forces Apollo and Meg to put everything they’ve learned through their journey together to the ultimate test. New and old characters combine to see the story to its end, and long-time readers are rewarded with actualized development and a bittersweet farewell. The Tower of Nero is a fitting and robust conclusion that shines with all the heart, humor, and growth that makes this saga a worthy frontrunner in children’s literature.

SPOILER SECTIONS BELOW

Welcome!!!!!!!!! Y’all. Y’ALL. I am REELING. If you’ve been around here a while, you probably know I’ve been online here since 2012 (?????!!!!!) where I subjected by followers to weird takes and frantic excitement about the upcoming installments of Heroes of Olympus, then Trials of Apollo. Since I was ten years old, this story has been such a huge part of my life. Now I’m 22 (?????!!!!). So. How am I feeling? I’m feeling like I need to flip over every piece of furniture in my house. In a good way. Look. I gotta break this down into three parts because I’m the worst!

I. TRIALS & TRIBULATION

The Trials of Apollo, to me, felt like the inevitable conclusion to Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Heroes of Olympus. We went through two series where we intimately followed the lives of young demigods growing up through two brutal wars, dangerous quests, and personal reckonings. Gods certainly made appearances, and some were more helpful than others, but the message was always clear-- the demigods were on their own. Two wars fought, two wars won, and at what cost? For what change?

Bringing a god down to earth (both literally and metaphorically) is really the only way a story like this could be rounded out. Especially when the god in question is Apollo. He’s the son of Zeus, who punishes him by turning him mortal. This family set-up already has enormous implications in reference to the previous chain of mythological events: Zeus killed his father Kronos, Kronos killed his father Ouranos, etc. 

Prophecy is also the scaffolding of this entire saga. Everything is dictated by it-- every quest relies on it, most of the demigods we meet are led by it, and the whole Greek/Roman world seems to build their lives around it. My point is, Apollo was a great character to use as the mouthpiece of this last series. He’s been present throughout the previous two series, and he’s relatively unaffected by the Greek/Roman divide. The enemy, the Triumvirate, is also an exciting antagonist-- they’ve fueled and funded the previous two wars, and their obsession with becoming “gods” is loaded with implications as Apollo races to return to his own status as a god.

Apollo himself is also a completely terrible being. From the first pages through his perspective, there’s certainly little sympathy or commiseration with our narrator. Apollo is many things: spoiled, petulant, selfish, and arrogant. He is not good, and now, he is no longer a god. Still, his voice and struggle remained compelling and engaging throughout the series. 

His bond with Meg McCaffrey is, without a doubt, the emotional heart of the whole series. I think they both see aspects of themselves in each other, and it was a genius move to make her the stepdaughter of the enemy. Nero literally sent Meg to be Apollo’s controller and thought that she would easily bring him down; the fact that both these very troubled people cling to each other in the face of such manipulation and frightening circumstances-- and then repeatedly choose to fight their ways back to each other time and again-- is really what makes this series work so well.

With Meg and Apollo at the forefront, after The Hidden Oracle the series takes on something of a “tour” format. We discover new places and revisit old characters across the country, which was definitely exciting for long-time readers to see familiar faces undergo even more development. (This might just be me, but I don’t think ToA can really stand on its own without the worldbuilding/establishment of the first two series-- that’s not a knock on it, but so much of it picks up where the previous series left off, which might make it a disorienting read for someone new to the world.)

Of course, the obvious midpoint reversal of the series is the death of Jason Grace in The Burning Maze. A flip switches completely-- not just for Apollo, but for the whole cast. This is not an incident that just “happens” and is swept aside. In the final two installments, Jason is threaded throughout the story, showing how grief is never truly over. But his sacrifice saved everyone he loved, and had profound impacts on everyone he knew. As brutal as it was, I appreciated how Jason really changed everything through his choice. 

By the time Apollo and Meg return to New York in The Tower of Nero, they are better, stronger versions of themselves. The things they once wanted-- godhood restored, or a father’s approval-- are no longer appealing. Their development (both individually and as friends) is utterly believable and hard-won. We see characters from The Hidden Oracle return changed, too. Losing Jason has dredged up dark feelings within Nico, Rachel is warding off the influence of Python in her mind, and Will’s healer heart is put to the test in yet another final battle. (Listen, this kid played instrumental roles in The Last Olympian, The Blood of Olympus, AND The Tower of Nero. The fate of the world really is in his capable, glow-in-the-dark hands.)

Together, Apollo and team venture into Manhattan for a very intense, exciting, and profound final reckoning with Nero. (CHAPTER 20, ANYONE????) Both Apollo and Meg, once and for all, come into their own and reclaim their power and independence. The pay-off is immaculate, and it’s jarring to remember the Apollo we once knew-- the easygoing one from The Titan’s Curse, the snobbish one from The Blood of Olympus, and the self-pitying one from The Hidden Oracle. His development throughout ToA is seamless and incredibly moving, and we’re left with a protagonist that we can truly, unequivocally root for and love.

II. HAVE YOU LEARNED?

When Nero is defeated, the real enemy still lurks. Apollo’s age-old nemesis, Python, has long haunted him. Their final reckoning is one-on-one, and after everything Apollo’s learned and been through, he goes into his last battle not necessarily caring whether he lives or dies-- he just knows Python must be defeated, no matter the cost. Don’t get me STARTED on his last conversation with Meg!!!!?????? (”Just come back to me, dummy.” I LOVE THEM) 

So, yeah, I’m already crying at that point. Apollo (slowly regaining his godhood) goes into this completely by himself, assuming all risk and responsibility. He’s forced to sacrifice the Arrow of Dodona, and eventually chooses to sacrifice himself by flinging them both down to Tartarus. But we don’t stop there! Oh, no, we go all the way down to Chaos. The primordial soup of all the pantheons, all of existence. Python crumbles, and Apollo clings to the edge-- he clings to life.

This is it. This is the literal rock-bottom moment of the saga, and I’m completely unsure of how he’s getting out of this one. Who’s going to rescue him? What can he even do at this point? Genuinely, I had no idea where this was going-- and I never would have guessed that it would be the goddess Styx who shows up. She’s played an important, but also very minor, role in ToA. I was baffled at first-- I thought, what does she have to do with any of this? But then it ended up playing out in like the most breathtaking, moving way possible. It’s one of the most defining scenes of the entire 15 books to me. 

She only asks him: “Have you learned?”

This is the goddess of promises and oaths. Since The Lightning Thief, we’ve seen how oaths are tossed around like confetti. Percy’s very existence (not to mention Thalia and Jason’s) is because of a broken promise. An oath to keep with a final breath is one of the revisited elements throughout the Heroes of Olympus series. Apollo makes willy-nilly promises in The Hidden Oracle, which he later regrets. 

Then, at the end of everything, Styx only asks Apollo if he’s learned. All the talk of promises and oaths in this story doesn’t actually have anything to do with “keeping promises”-- certainly, so many promises are broken we can’t keep track. It all boils down to whether we learn from what we experience and use that to become better people moving forward. It’s about making sure we mean what we say and what we do. It’s about commitment and devotion to the people we love and the things we care about. Promises don’t matter. Only action does. 

I can’t understate how thoroughly pleased I was that this was the final reckoning of the saga. It was an unexpected and completely profound moment, and such an important scene to use as the emotional climax of the book.

III. WHERE WE GO FROM HERE

After 15 years and 15 books, The Tower of Nero had to find a way to bring the saga to a close without nailing the coffin shut. More standalone novels are surely on the horizon (I’m looking at you, Nico and Will), but as a whole, this saga did need to come to a satisfying end. 

Let’s pick up after Apollo is restored to godhood. He wakes up to his sister Artemis, and the very first thing he does? After finally returning to his true form, the thing he’s relentlessly yearned for the whole series? He just breaks down sobbing. He’s miserable. There’s no relief or joy in the realization that he’s once again an Olympian. 

I’m always a sucker for the trope of “Character does everything possible to reach Goal only to realize that Goal isn’t actually what they want or need at all”, so of course, I was moved to see Apollo learn that he doesn’t actually care much about whether he’s a god or a human anymore. (In fact, he later remarks that he envies Lu’s new ability to grow old and age alongside Meg and her foster siblings.)

I was doubly-moved that Apollo’s restoration to godhood was not an action on Zeus’s part. From what little context we get (a lot happens “off screen” and even Apollo isn’t sure), it appears that Apollo either reclaimed his own godhood through sheer force of will to return from Chaos and reunite with his friends, and/or Styx aided him. But it seems obvious Zeus wasn’t involved, which has HUGE implications for the power structure of the Olympians moving forward.

A lot of us, myself included, had certain expectations for how Apollo’s inevitable reunion with Zeus and the rest of the Olympians would go. I, for one, was excited to see Apollo either tell off his father, or possibly assume a position as the new Camp Half-Blood director or New Rome’s pontifex maximus. Instead, we got a somewhat quiet, but incredibly tense interaction between all the Olympians. The closest thing to an outburst is actually between Hera and Zeus, as she tells him off for not mourning his son Jason, as Apollo did. (Dare I say....I liked Hera for a moment?) (ALSO, I’m fully on-board with the theory that Zeus did not intervene in Jason’s death as a punishment for Jason publicly calling him “unwise” in The Blood of Olympus.)

The whole scene reads as a powder keg. Already, it’s established that Apollo, Artemis, and Dionysus (and possibly even Athena and Hera) have no illusions of Zeus’s grandeur. They do not view him as family, or even as a leader. He’s simply just the one with enough power to punish the rest of them when they get “out of line”. 

Apollo began naming Zeus as his abuser fairly early on in the series. Perhaps witnessing the way Meg thinks and speaks about her stepfather Nero made this clear for him. In either case, he begins to explicitly mirror the very same advice he gives Meg in dealing with her abuser: distance yourself from the abusive person/situation, and accept that tyrants do not change and it is not your responsibility to attempt to make them “see the light”. Thus, Apollo makes no appeal or argument to Zeus– he understands by then that it’d be fruitless. Instead, he’s concentrating his energy on doing everything he can do with what he has; he’s committed to being a protector and friend of demigods, and he sees that other gods are beginning to (if not already) see Zeus’s wrongness. (More on this here.)

Was it what I expected going into the book? Nope. But I have to admit that it was really exciting to see Zeus try to hide the very real fear of realizing that his son Apollo is no longer afraid of him, and is quite possibly more powerful than him, too. Apollo switches gears entirely away from Zeus, and focuses his energy back on the friends he’s made and the children he has. It’s a refreshing reminder that it’s often more productive to concentrate on helping others instead of harming those who harm us. 

That being said, I would have liked a few paragraphs or pages discussing what practical differences there will be for the lives of young demigods in the wake of this change. I understand that might not have worked given the very condensed timeline post-returning-to-godhood (the story ends literally the same day or day after), but I do hope and believe that Apollo’s transformation is going to change the way demigods perceive gods-- and what they will expect of gods in the future. Just look at how Apollo is received by the campers at CHB. They’re ecstatic to see him. They think of him as a hero. Apollo is coming back just to help and spend time with his kids, his friends, and the campers, and he’s going to keep coming back. The other gods are certainly going to feel some pressure to follow suit. 

Speaking of Apollo’s reunions...shall we?

I loved that we got to see all the main-players one last time. Mimicking the “tour format” of the series, we get to watch Apollo catch up with his loved ones, who helped him learn how to be a better person throughout his trials.

It was sad, but reassuring, to watch Nico come to terms with Jason’s death. I like how he outlined the differences between Hazel’s and Jason’s deaths, and why he isn’t interfering out of respect for Jason. Watching Jason appear to Apollo (ambiguously as a ghost or as a figment of Apollo’s dream-imagination) was another moving reminder of the stark differences in the ways that different demigods prioritize and think about what it is to be a hero. Jason’s idea and Percy’s idea, for instance, are super different because of the way they were raised. Percy would put anything on the line for his family and friends; so would Jason, of course, but he also has a much broader view of what’s worth sacrificing your life for...which is admirable in ways, but also painfully sad, since a lot has to change in order for Jason’s death to carry weight. Over the course of the last two books, I think it’s very safe to say Jason’s death did change just about everything for the people who knew and loved him, and even those who didn’t. 

Whew. Okay, back to Camp Half-Blood. Nico and Will are clearly now very comfortable with each other, and it’s refreshing to see how they both watch out for each other and bring out the best in one another. I’m excited for their inevitable solo book, but regardless, it’s good to see Nico getting the help he needs (from his own experiences, from Dionysus, Will, etc), and for Rachel to get some distance from her terrible parents by living out her art student dreams in Paris. 

Then, we drop by the Waystation. I simply cannot get over the fact that Calypso is at BAND CAMP. Anyway, it’s unsurprising to find out that she and Leo are still “complicated”, but I’m glad she’s experiencing the highs and lows of mortal life, and that Leo is working on helping out vulnerable youth (and has two mom figures in his life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Glad we get to see Thalia and Reyna both happy and healthy, too.

Next up, Camp Jupiter and New Rome. LOVE that Hazel and Frank have both reclaimed the curses that haunted them since The Son of Neptune. They really both did just...like...basically die to bring down the Big Bad and then come back better than ever. (Side note: I still obviously have issues with the fact that Hazel is SO YOUNG! There was no reason for her not to be 15/16 like the rest of the Argo 2 crew! Ugh.)

Anyway, then we say goodbye to Percy and Annabeth. Except for the annoying continuity error in terms of the timeline of them learning about Jason, I really really really loved this parting moment with them. I know some readers wanted Percy and Annabeth to stay in New York, but it always felt very natural and meaningful for me that they’d want to relocate to New Rome. That was always the Big Dream for most of Heroes of Olympus, and it makes sense to me that they’d choose to live somewhere designed for demigods to actually live and grow old and raise families. Besides, I’m quite certain they’ll frequently be visiting New York. I digress. 

It was super bittersweet to see these two finally off on their own (and basically living together, as Apollo teasingly implies) going to college! Definitely a huge sigh of relief and satisfaction after following all their exploits since they were twelve. I’m so glad we get to see them (all things considered) happy and excited for their new life together. They certainly stepped back in this series, as they deserved. But they still lose Jason, and that’s something that weighs heavily on them and likely always will. Apollo calls Jason “the best of us”, and I don’t think that use of “us” is lost on Percy, Annabeth, or anyone-- Apollo’s identity and alignment is with them now, which will hopefully lead to positive change.

Then, simultaneously the saddest and happiest (?) reunion-- with Piper. This was obviously really heavy, since the last time Apollo sees her is in the wake of Jason’s death. For me, I’m very proud and excited by the fact that Piper is the only character who basically forges a whole new life (outside of the sphere of the Olympians) for herself. She’s far from other demigods and gods, and is committed to reconnecting with her mortal family and making a beautiful life. She has a new friend, too, which is absolutely awesome. (I mean, we all KNEW, right? But it’s really great to see this confirmed on-page.) When Piper told Apollo that he did right by Jason, I definitely lost it. And I also just really loved the final beat with her-- Apollo’s stammering a goodbye, but Piper’s already turned around to walk back to her new friend and her new life.

The final farewell, of course, went to Meg McCaffrey. She’s reclaimed Aeithales, and is now foster-sibling-extraordinaire by rescuing Nero’s other adopted demigods and giving them a new chance. Meg’s really matured and grown into such a kind and strong leader, but it was super bittersweet to see how much she still values Apollo. Their reunion just about broke me. They share a bond that no one else will ever understand, and they brought each other out of darkness that nearly ended them both. I literally can’t think of a better final dialogue than what they share:

You’ll come back?

Always. The sun always comes back. 

I’m fine!!! 

Anyway, this brings me to the closing lines of the story. Just as Percy opens The Lightning Thief by directly addressing the reader, Apollo closes The Tower of Nero by bidding farewell to us. 

Call on me. I will be there for you. 

On so many levels, this line works really well as the ending. For me, and I imagine for you too if you’re reading this, these 15 books are a pillar of our childhoods. We grew up alongside these characters, and found enormous excitement and identity and magic in these pages. The story may have come to a close, but it lives on within us-- it’s something we can return to time and again for enjoyment and understanding.

More than anything, this story pulled off something I didn’t really know was possible: it makes me feel genuinely and enthusiastically glad to be human, no matter how strange or hard it gets.

____________

My fifth-grade teacher assigned The Lightning Thief as mandatory reading when I was ten years old. I picked it up reluctantly, but from the first lines, I just completely fell into this story. Twelve years since that assignment, I’m now a traditionally-published author myself...writing about what else but mythology, of course. These books saw me from elementary school all the way to post-college life. It’s hard to imagine where I’d be without them-- certainly, I’d never have achieved my lifelong dream of becoming an author, nor would I have found such an incredible online community like the one I’ve found here. I consider myself extremely lucky to have grown up alongside these characters and their incredible story. 

I know we’ve likely got more standalones in this world to come, but this is still the end of the saga. I’m sad to see it come to a close, but I’m so ecstatic with the send-off we got, and I’m excited to let the story settle and become a part of me-- something that will always affect how I see the world, something that reminds me of why I write, and something that’s always there to welcome me home.

#review #tower of nero #trials of apollo #the tower of nero #the trials of apollo

[kieraelieson]

Centaur AU 5

To say Thomas worried the rest of the day would be an understatement. He tried to keep it to himself, but it must have been palpable, since Roman came into the stable bright and happy, and his smile dropped immediately. His eyes went wide, clearly sending messages to the others, but he didn’t say a word until his jockey was gone.

“What happened?!”

“It’s not that much to be concerned about,” Logan said. “My legs are hurting, nothing more.”

“The vet has been called at least!” Roman said, a flash of anger in his eyes. “If—“ his words fizzled out as he turned to see Thomas.

“No, no, Thomas called the vet. She’s coming tonight to help,” Patton said, his tone calming.

“Well,” Roman looked like the wind had been taken out of him. “Good.”

And that somehow reminded Thomas. The very visit probably wouldn’t be over in a few minutes, he would be late to get home again. He was now Extremely glad he’d gotten a cell phone for Remy. Perhaps after a month or so he could afford one for Emile too.

He went to the phone, ignoring the quiet talking from the others.

Remy didn’t pick up right away, and Thomas called a second time.

“Look, I don’t know who you are—“

“Remy, it’s Thomas.”

“Oh. Sorry, this is a weird number. Wait—- don’t tell me you got lost this time!” Remy laughed. “Emile! You’ve got to hear this!”

“No, no, Remy, I’m not lost, I’m still at work. I just called to say I’ll probably have to stay late again.”

There was a vague, displeased grunt. “What, overtime twice in a row? You did negotiate for overtime pay, right?”

Thomas sighed. “No, I’m not sure I’m even getting paid at all for it.”

“What?!” Remy yelled. “Thomas, you are A Doormat!” The sound went a little fainter. “Emile, tell him! He’s not even getting paid for staying late!”

“Really, Thomas, you do need to stand up for yourself in terms of fair payment,” Emile said.

Thomas chuckled slightly, sighing. “I know. I really do. This is just more important than that. I’ll explain when I get home, and I’ll even try to figure out a way to renegotiate.”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Remy promised.

“Be safe and reasonable,” Emile said. “If you get very tired, it may be better to quit before your task is complete or to stay the night there.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” Thomas said. “Love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, all the mushy ‘we love you too’,” Remy said distantly before hanging up.

Thomas smiled a bit. He really missed them, even though it’d only been a few days, they seemed really long.

And then he heard a car stop and a door shut. Hopefully that was the vet.

He turned to offer his most reassuring smile to the centaurs before going out to meet her.

“Oh, hello, are you Thomas?”

“I am, yes, and I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Dr. Avery. Would you help me carry some things?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not surprised something finally happened,” Dr. Avery said, her tone rather annoyed. “I’ve been saying all you recent grooms are lazy and uneducated.”

Thomas tried not to take offense, but really, he was undereducated. He hadn’t had barely an idea of what to do.

“For a centaur like that one you need to be applying liniment all the time, and keep support for his legs between, and he really ought not to be sleeping standing.”

Thomas nodded, extremely glad for the information, though a part of him grated against the tone it was delivered in.

“And he really needs some kinds of exercise other than those competitions. Without the variety, eventually he’ll be unable to do anything else. Maybe it’s even too late already.”

Thomas nodded again.

They entered the stable, and the silence was almost oppressive. All four centaurs stared intently at them, very still, and not making a single sound, not even in response to Thomas’s small smile.

Dr. Avery went right into Logan’s stall, and he narrowed his eyes at her slightly before moving into the middle of the stall, crossing his arms and staring firmly at the wall. It somehow cut into Thomas to see it. As if the vet visiting was something that had happened long ago, and ended very unpleasantly, and this was some sort of unpleasant truce. But he didn’t know what to do about it. He, they all needed a vet, and he strongly doubted he would be able to call his vet. There would be so much paperwork, even just to begin, and Logan was hurt now. Not to mention that the owners might well hate the idea of switching vets.

Dr. Avery unwrapped Logan’s legs and ran her hands carefully over them, making small displeased noises as she found… whatever she was finding.

“Thomas, go out to my truck, there’s a portable x-ray machine. Bring it here.”

Thomas ran to obey quickly.

The vet examined each of Logan’s legs very carefully, and then studied the x-rays, frowning intently, but not saying much. Thomas felt like his breath was held the entire time, waiting on the professional judgement.

“Well, first of all,” she said, still staring at the papers.

Thomas nodded quickly. “Yes?”

“This is going to be expensive to treat,” she said, her tone sour. “There are a number of faint cracks in the cannon bones. I’m quite frankly shocked he hasn’t broken his legs. He needs to stay off his feet as much as possible, and his legs need support, as well as dietary supplements to build up the bones again. He will not be able to participate in any of those competitions whatsoever for 12 weeks at the very least.”

Thomas nodded firmly. He was sure… well, he was desperately hopeful that the Authiers would pay for it.

“But on top of that the mental aspect cannot be discounted. I’ve known this centaur for quite a few years. It will be a long, and painful recovery, if it’s handled just right. I don’t think he’ll pull through it. Centaurs are finicky like that once injured.”

Thomas felt as though she’d managed to slap them all in the face, and Logan at least twice. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked or angry.

“Add all that to the likelihood that he won’t be able to do many competitions afterwards even if he did somehow pull through it, and from the inactivity his muscles will be atrophied, he won’t be the same for… perhaps six months or more. I don’t know that you’ll, or rather, that the Authiers would find it worthwhile to keep him around anymore.”

Thomas felt like he might fall over. His voice came out squeaky and faint. “Are-- are you seriously suggesting that---”

“Putting him down. Yes.”

There was a choked sound from Patton, who looked both absolutely terrified and like he might throw up. Thomas wondered if he looked the same way. There was suddenly a scream.

“NO!” Virgil had reared up and kicked the door, hard.

Dr. Avery paled. “Why is he loose like that?! That is a violent centaur!”

Thomas, in what was probably a powerful move Emile would berate him for later, managed to shove everything down all at once and put on a conciliatory smile.

“Thank you so much for coming. I will talk to the Authiers, and call you again with their decision. If you leave, it will be easier to get him under control again.”

Virgil was still screaming, the sound more animal than human, and the stall door would not hold much longer.

“That’s at least a three man job! I’ll get the tranquilizers.”

“No.” Thomas said firmly. “Please leave. Now.”

Dr. Avery shook her head like he was crazy, but grabbed her stuff and left.

Thomas shut the stable door, and then heard a cracking of wood. In seconds Virgil was in front of him, rearing up threateningly. If he hadn’t already so far detached himself from the situation, Thomas might have screamed. And then he would have most assuredly died. But he didn’t, he raised his hands slowly and silently in surrender.

“You won’t touch him!” Virgil screamed.

“Virgil, please. I swear to you I will never let anything like that happen to Logan. I swear. I will do everything I possibly can, and if that doesn’t work I’d kidnap him before I let someone kill him. I promise Virgil, everything I can, I will do to make him safe. I promise. Please. Please walk back to your stall. Or to Logan’s. I’m sure he would appreciate you with him.”

It was as if dark clouds started to be blown away as Virgil stood down, taking a step back and turning to look at Logan.

Thomas collapsed to his knees, suddenly sobbing.

Something was going on, but he didn’t know what, only that his breath was coming short and he couldn’t stop himself, nearly curled up in a ball, heavy sobs wracking his body. And then strong arms picking him up and holding him in a hug.

“It’s alright. Everyone’s safe for now.” Someone said. “You did the best you could.”

Thomas tried hard to stop crying. He needed to be the strong one. He needed to fix everything. “I’m so-sorry, I’m trying.”

“It’s alright. We’re all alright for now. Let it out now.”

Thomas slowly managed to regain some kind of composure, and realized that Roman was holding him, knelt down on the floor with him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. You- you shouldn’t have to--”

He was cut off and surprised by Roman squeezing him in a tight hug. “Thomas, you’re giving us the best you have. Thank you. It’s enough.”

And somehow that made him want to cry all over again. Not the same desperate sobs, but it still made him sniff, and quite a few more tears ran down his face. “Thank you, Roman.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, his voice quiet and low. “Did-- did you mean what you said?”

Thomas nodded firmly. “I’ll never just stand by while they kill someone. Especially not for being hurt.”

Patton burst into tears, which, judging by his wet face, were not the first by far.

“Is Logan ok?” Thomas asked.

Virgil looked up at Logan’s face, which he could see from his place snugged up against his side. “He’s out.”

It took Thomas a second while his brain screamed ‘he passed out???’ to realize Virgil probably meant he was heavily dissociated. Thomas couldn’t blame him. But… this was probably what the vet meant about centaur’s and their minds once they got injured. It wasn’t their fault, it was a whole life long of trauma. But for Logan to get well again he would have to be present.

But not yet. He deserved to calmly make his way back. He deserved… anything, after being talked about like that. Someone literally threatened to kill him while he stood there listening! Thomas felt anger rising up in him, bringing with it a rush of heat and energy. He was calling the Authiers. And he was not taking no for an answer.

He took the phone with him into the closet, where he couldn’t be so easily overheard. None of them deserved any more bad news.

“Hello?” A familiar voice asked, with loud music in the background. It was the woman who had hired him, and he felt bad to say, he didn’t remember her first name.

“Hello, Mrs. Authier, it’s Thomas Sanders.”

“Oh, Thomas! Do you need something?”

He was going to have to phrase this right if he had much hope. “I’ve been looking into the things that the other grooms did, and I’ve found several problems.”

“Uh huh. Well give me the quick version, I’m a bit busy.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “One of the centaurs needs medical care, and I need more time here. I’d like to be hired full-time, and be able to bring things over here to stay.”

“Oh, that was excellently quick. Is that everything?”

“Um, yes?”

“Great. I’ll give you an empty check for the medical care, and send my lawyer to talk with you in the morning about rearranging the schedule. Are we good now?”

“I… yes. I think so.”

“Great! There’s a party up at the main house, and it’ll go most of the night if you want to join.”

“Uh, thank you.”

“Call anytime, you’re a good summarizer!”

And then she hung up. Thomas was dumbfounded. It was entirely not how he’d expected it to go at all. He was wondering more and more what kind of crazy people he was working for.

He called Dr. Avery, and went to voicemail, which he preferred quite a bit. “Mrs. Authier approved the medical treatment. If you can come in the morning and give me care instructions, I’ll do my best to be sure they’re followed.”

And then Thomas let out a long, relieved sigh. He came out of the closet to many tense faces.

“She said yes. We’re going to treat Logan, and help him the best we can.”

Roman and Virgil sighed in relief, and Patton nearly cried again. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“And,” Thomas said, and suddenly had all eyes fixed on him again. “I think, I might be moving to stay here. Would that be alright with you guys?”

There was a strange silence.

“Well, what we think about it wouldn’t really change anything,” Roman said.

“Of course we’d love to have you!” Patton said, overlapping Roman’s words.

Thomas nodded solemnly. He could understand if they didn’t want him here. They barely knew him, and it’d take away the privacy they had at nighttime.

“Well, for tonight then, I need to wrap up Logan’s legs again, and probably after all that mess Virgil at least could use a brushing down. Would that be alright?”

Thomas looked mostly at Virgil, who nodded, but reluctantly, and didn’t meet his gaze.

And Thomas had to admit, even with the exhausted numbness settling over him, he was scared to be between Logan and Virgil, even though he knew, and they knew too, that he was only trying to help. Logan was still almost frozen, a glazed look in his eyes as he turned lazily to watch Thomas.

Thomas ran a hand gently over Logan’s flank, and over again. He didn’t know if Logan would appreciate petting or if he’d be annoyed or insulted by it. He just wanted to find some way to help, and to perhaps comfort and reassure a bit.

“I’m really sorry. If I’d known what she was going to say I would’ve had her outside to talk.”

Logan didn’t respond at all.

Thomas tried giving a rather wry smile, but it fell a bit flat.

“If you’d come out of this stall, Virgil, it’d be easier for me to brush you,” Thomas said, turning and going back to the closet to get a curry comb.

Virgil was standing in his own stall when Thomas came back out, and he was standing stiffly, his eyes darting around a bit, though he turned his head away to make it less obvious. Thomas wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he didn’t blame him. He felt antsy and jittery himself, and just wanted to get done and get home.

But as he entered the stall Virgil stepped away from him. “I’m sorry. F-for earlier. I-I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s alright,” Thomas said, raising the brush. “Just stand still now and we’ll be good.”

Virgil flinched back and away, holding his arms close to his chest, a wide-eyed scared look on his face. It finally registered to Thomas that something more was wrong than just fading adrenaline.

“Virgil, I’m tired and kinda crashing, it’s making me kind of dumb, and I’m gonna need you to communicate here with me, ok? What’s wrong?”

Virgil’s eyes flicked to the curry comb, but he didn’t say anything. A tremor started and ran over his body.

Patton came to the rescue, leaning over the walls.

“Virgil doesn’t like that brush.”

Thomas frowned down at the innocent curry comb. “It’s no worse than any other brush, Virgil.”

“It hurts! Especially when you’re mad or tired.” Virgil blurted out, shutting his mouth immediately after as if he’d said something bad.

The only way this kind of brush would hurt was if it was practically slapped against…. who was Thomas kidding, with the rampant abuse, it was incredibly likely that exactly that had happened.

“It wouldn’t hurt if it’s done properly,” Thomas promised. “Would you let me try? If it hurts you I promise I’ll go back and get your favorite one instead.”

“You promise?”

Thomas nodded firmly. “I promise.”

Virgil shook his head, a tremor running down his whole body. “Promises break.”

Thomas thought about it for a minute, and then went out and grabbed a lead rope, tying one end around his wrist.

“Do you trust Patton? The whole time I’m brushing you he can hold the other end of this rope, and the instant it hurts you he can pull my hand back.”

Virgil looked to Patton, who seemed more than a little nervous about the idea, but still nodded and accepted the end of the rope.

“O-ok.”

Thomas gently set the brush against Virgil’s side, waiting for the flinch and shiver to die down a little before he moved the brush at all. Virgil was all covered in sweat, and Thomas tried to move just right to get it off without moving too quickly and startling him.

He was a little surprised, but also a little not, that by the time he’d finished one side Virgil was relaxing into it. It must feel good to finally reach through all the hair and get properly brushed, and to get really clean.

He’d just wanted to get home a bit ago, but this was more important. It wasn’t just brushing down a centaur, it was getting Virgil to trust him, to trust brushes. It was healthy for Virgil’s coat too. And probably it was helping relax a lot of stressors for him. He needed it, far more that Thomas needed to get home. So he took his time, did it the best way, which also happened to take a long time.

And once he was done Virgil was so relaxed his eyes were drifting shut.

“There. You did very well, Virgil. And thank you for helping, Patton.”

Patton smiled and yawned. “You’re welcome, Thomas.”

“I’ll probably head home now. Is there anything else any of you need?”

“It’s nearly midnight,” Logan said, startling Thomas by speaking.

“Yes?”

Logan just gave a small nod, as if that meant something to him. “Thank you.”

Thomas nodded. “You’re welcome.”

He closed stall doors and turned off all the lights but one, finally leaving. When he got home, for some reason, he didn’t go into the house, he went into the stable. Only barely awake, he dropped onto the hay next to where Emile was stretched out, laying prone.

“Thomas?”

Thomas gave a weak grunt in acknowledgement before falling asleep.

#centaur au #my own work #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #character!thomas #death mention #past abuse

[pantheon-god-of-war]

I made a post on Twitter and learned that Pantheon x Aphelios is a genuine ship like Aphelios x Sett is? Honestly I only ever cared about 200 years when I kicked his face in while ulting bot. I think his story while tragic is very isolating. So I went back to read through the lore of his again to make sure I remembered everything correctly from the first time I read it back when he was released. 

Now bare in mind I do not ship bash, if you like the ship more power to you, I won’t discourage anyone from shipping what they like. It’s all fiction. That said I will analyze the two of them and see if I can find some common ground from the lore material we have. 

Aphelios and Alune were both children of the Lunari and were heralded to be these great children of destiny for the lunar faith. From a young age they had all this weight thrust upon them to defend the Lunari as fighter and seer. This supposed great destiny, while it turned out to be true is quite brainwashing for young children and incredibly manipulative. It is stated that Aphelios had a very strong and deep connection with his sister which in turn hurt him when she was not there since he likely felt isolated and had severe problems fitting in with others. Its a common phenomenon that certain individuals who have a singular best friend or sibling suffer immensely when that person leaves and they are left to deal with others, much like some of us have most fiends online these days and desperately wait for said friends to get on so they will have company. It even says that without Alune his faith wavered, clearly tying him immensely to her so much that there is a dependency on her closeness that correlates to his effectiveness in combat or even as a functioning human being as it is said that he lost his very purpose. It seems like while Alune firmly believes in the Moon Aphelios believes in her and whatever she stands for, so will he. I don’t want to say Moon Simp here because they are brother and sister but in essence he very much does what she commands, even in game. Its a very unhealthy sort of hyper dependency as without her he just falls apart. 

In this desperation he comes across noctum on a spiritual journey and consumes it only to later understand that he is to live as a conduit for Alunes magic. I like this excerpt out of his story because it highlights the duality and the tragedy of their relationship. 

Only now did they understand their destiny. Aphelios would hollow himself out with pain, but would become a conduit for the moon’s power. Alune would live alone, isolated in her fortress, but she would guide her brother, able to see through his eyes.

While it is tragic it really takes away from his own character. He has no real will of his own at this point, Alune is faithful to the moon and guides him in any way she sees fit as she is the seer, he is merely the earthly vessel for her actions that are in the best interests of the Lunari. 

With Aphelios previously already being quite anti social as he only focuses on Alune this connection should amp it up tenfold. Imagine having the only person you really care about in your head constantly talking to you and telling you what to do so long you are under the painful influence of a harmful substance. It makes him the epitome of a living tool, because he does not speak or feel and because he is hyper fixated on his sister. When you hollow your body out with a poison that numbs you to all sorts of feelings there is really little sense for physical companionship as you have numbed yourself to the point of not being able to speak, with constant pain coursing through you. That is without Aphelios innate antisocial behavior

All and all this paints Aphelios as a silent killer who works alone, gets his missions either from Alune exclusively, or convenes with Lunari elders on what targets need to be eliminated. He very much reminds me of Agent 47, take the job, maximum efficiency, get it done, get the next job. His destiny or purpose is to serve the Lunari and keep them safe and anything that keeps him from achieving his singular purpose is either an obstacle or not worth his time. 

Pantheon is a whole new problem in that he hates everyone on the mountain, to varying degrees but still. His one big defining trait is that he stands up to the gods, aspects and darkin. He renounces the power of the aspects and the gods dominion over Targon and will fight nearly anything to follow his belief. He threatens Aurelion Sol, fights Xerath and generally just howls at every aspect ascended, demi god, or darkin there is. When mom told Atreus to pick his battles he simply said “I’ll pick em all” and off he went kicking everyone ass. 

Pantheons place in Targon is very uncertain. I said this before when he got reworked that this stance against the gods will put him at odds with everyone on Targon. The Solari and Lunari believe in their respective gods, the Rakkor or Targonians all believe in either of those gods or worship other constellations since in Targon this ascended magic is something to aspire too. People look up to the stars, ask them for guidance, read their fate in the stars, trust them and even pilgrim from every corner of the earth to worship and marvel at the gods. Pantheon would be at odds with every single person and while he won’t slaughter everyone I think the canonical thing for Pantheon to do is just leave mount Targon and fight other gods OR actually challenge and kill Leona, Diana Taric and so on. Which would be a very dark but also very possible path. Kill the aspects to show the masses that their gods do not save them and demand exponentially more than they ever return. For that Pantheon would have to end the Lunari and Solari faith and completely reshape the way people on Targon think about the stars, and as much as I love Pantheon I do not see that as something possible, nor do I see him as the kind of man who would force anyone to agree with him. He carries his rage and resentment but he will not force it upon another, rather confront the person responsible and settle it with them (the gods). 

Now Pantheon did fight with the Ra’Horak in his fight against Xerath. Where it was actually the Ra’Horak fighting Xerath before Pantheon arrived. I am guessing that was because the first sun disc was constructed in Nerimazeth and the Solari desired it for some reason, but I am getting off track here. Pantheon helped the Solari warriors, which leads me to believe that perhaps he can exist on Targon in a way. But with the circumstances I think it was more him fighting against Xerath. Since that thing was clearly a godlike entity that he was all but ready to kill. The Solari just happen to be there and he decided to aid the mortals fighting against a god, that does not mean he agrees with their beliefs. 

Had Aphelios fought Xerath, would Pantheon have helped? Sure, probably. I think Pantheon would also help Leona and Diana against Aatrox if they needed his help again. It’s all a matter of hierarchy. Who is the greatest threat and who is a lesser one. So I could see them working together against a greater common foe for sure but more I think not. 

His quote to Aphelios is at first glance more positive, but considering all the underlying character traits I think it is a little darker than what it at first implies. Pantheon knows that it is human destiny to fight for survival and only those strong and brave enough do not shy away from the pain and anguish that decision costs. Pantheon understands Aphelios motivation, why he fights, that does not mean he supports it. 

To Pantheon, Aphelios is a man so zealous and devoted to the moon that he would willingly forsake his humanity, poison himself and suffer for eternity so that he could enact the will of the moon, a god. This is going to really set of Pantheon’s past when the god of war possessed his body, forced him into the back of his own mind only to do what he wanted with Atreus flesh. That is the exact breaking point on why Pantheon and Aphelios will hardly ever see eye to eye. One of them a devoted zealot, willing to surrender it all in service to the moon, the other a warrior who despises the gods and their machinations above all else having once been at the mercy of one of them. With Aphelios added antisocial character I really doubt they would ever exchange much words. Perhaps Pantheon extends an olive branch and tries to get Aphelios to live for himself. But Aphelios would refuse, if no one else could sway him from this singular purpose in life which he has grown up with since his birth, this random warrior won’t be able to sway him either and here the line from Pantheon comes back in as a sort of, “I understand and hail your conviction.” before the fight, where he respects the resolve, but not the reason for it. 

That’s why I don’t think they are quite shippable. The only two people I could really see Aphlios with is either Diana or Taric. Diana only if she embraces her role as leader of the Lunari where she comes to appreciate what Aphelios does for her people but is worried about his own mental health, from one antisocial who has grown above it to another. She could perhaps understand and through said knowledge know how to help him open himself up more. That is if she cared enough. Taric on the other hand would feel the damage and pain in Aphelios, and as all life should be beautiful so would he try to mend Aphelios. He clearly has the warmth, care, compassion, and patience to deal with someone as secluded as Aphelios, gently prying him open until he finally lets himself feel again and maybe finally finds someone who can help him open up to other Lunari and Targonians. Isolation is a terrible thing and it leaves horrible scars. I see only Taric in a position where he could mend those scars. Pantheon likely would not care, he is cold and angered himself, no mercy for the strong, as he says. That’s why I think they would clash or would just never get past the cold nodding before combat phase. 

This isn’t to bash any people who like the ship, I just thought id give my two cent on Pantheon x Aphelios and why it never occurred to me to ship these two. I get that emo x himbo is a thing, probably also why Aphelios x Sett is so loved, but from a lore and character standpoint I don’t really see it. 

This was a post I’ll link to twitter, but if you have input or a different opinion I am always open to discussion and new viewpoints. Go crazy! 

#Pantheon #Aphelios

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 3

The staff meeting during the following Friday of the entrance exams has always been one of Nedzu’s favorite days. Several variables are set loose all at once and he gets to watch the chaos happen.This year, in particular, has an interesting candidate.

Viridis Muska.

Quite obviously, they aren’t Japanese and their records state that she moved here with her legal guardian 7 years ago after an accident unfortunately killed her parents. Her identity is as clean as his favorite tea cups and her homeschooling was explained by needing to learn the language. Their quirk registry matched up with most of their actions as well.

Most.

She had first garnered attention by finishing a whole hour early. Even some intelligence quirks don’t finish that fast. Especially since it was a test Nedzu personally made. Then there were her responses in the history section. It almost appeared as if she forced herself to use third person writing. The descriptions were remarkably detailed and certain events held smaller but no less important information that doesn’t exist in any textbook.

He would know.

Then came the practical. Her use of her quirk to enhance certain aspects of their physical abilities while also using it sparingly to prevent quirk exhaustion was intriguing and well throughout. Releasing the 0-point as time was ticking down Nedzu had expected everything to go as calculated.

Unknown information, however, always changes that.

The knowledge of where the other examinees were, the quick reaction time, the healed ankle. None of that was listed in her abilities and the government always keeps track of healers. In fact, looking over her quirk registry, it's surprisingly vague. As if the person who wrote it made sure that unless someone had personally seen the quirk in use, the description sounded fine. Yet after seeing the quirk in use, the description became lacking.

It was past intriguing, it was fascinating.

Watching the staff members file into the room, Nedzu couldn’t help the feral smile on his face. He had a sneaking suspicion as to why this particular examinee was so unknown. Afterall, no matter how hard Nedzu tried, the “veil” never lifted for him. He wasn’t one of them and he didn’t personally know anyone who was. If Viridis was what he thought they were, then Nedzu might finally get answers.

“Now let's get to it!” Nedzu chirped, reveling in the shudders the teachers tried to hide at his excited tone. The only one to succeed was Aizawa, but he also was personally taught by Nedu during his third year since Nedzu wanted to cultivate his skills. Now the man was the best underground pro there was.

They shuffled through applications and sorted them based on accepted, pending, and rejected. Midnight was in charge of business and design, Power loader for support with help from Ectoplasm, Cementoss and Present Mic for general, and Eraserhead along with Vlad King for heroics.

30 minutes in, Aizawa spoke up.

“Nedzu, I’m assuming examinee #2438 is who you were watching yesterday? Viridis Muska?”

Nedzu grinned at him and nodded. “Yes, as you might know considering your underground status, I have a sneaking suspicion that she is from ‘beyond the veil’.”

Aizawa actually dropped the paper he was holding. His eyes grew slightly larger as he dropped his head into his capture weapon to hide the bottom half of his face. Yamada, who despite what people thought, was also involved with the underground. Thus, the gasp was expected. Everyone else, however, looked confused.

From the back, where he was looking over some teaching material, Yagi Toshinori aka: All Might raised his hand like a student. Nedzu almost chuckled at the thought.

“Yes All Might?”

“What is this ‘beyond the veil’?”

Nedzu knew he would ask that but acted as if he didn’t and thought about it for a moment. In reality he was already going to tell his staff this year about the existence of the veil despite knowing nothing about what actually lies beyond because the underworld has been spiking in activity lately and there was a chance that big moves could be made soon.

Turning to face the room as a whole Nedzu dropped his typical smile and allowed his serious to show through his eyes before he spoke.

“This info may not leave this room. It is imperative that only a select few even know the name. The term ‘beyond the veil’ is the official title for the shadows that have hidden out of society and humanities view for thousands of years,” Nedzu watched as his faculty began paying rapt attention to his words. It wasn’t often that he got serious afterall.

“It pains me to say it but even I don’t exactly know what lies beyond this veil, however I do know that whatever is there is something beyond human.”

“Are you saying that humans aren’t the only creatures on the planet?” Vlad asked, confusion and disbelief lacing his words.

“Absolutely. In fact, those that know of the existence of the veil theorize that the only reason Humans have the abilities called quirks was because someone mingled with what was beyond. Viridis Muska is clean, clean in a way that only someone like me would even notice the slight discrepancies. Yet these discrepancies were only noticed because of my Knowledge of the veil. If i didn’t know, I wouldn’t have noticed how strange her abilities really are. Or questioned why her words in the history section seemed over-detailed.”

The room was silent for a few moments, then Aizawa moved and placed the application on the class 1-A acceptance pile.

With a grin, Nedzu nodded.

“I’ll be the projection to Viridis. I wish to invite her for a cup of tea.”

Eras was casually leaning against the tallest window in the house, a leg dangling over the side of the window sill as the other was pulled up next to them. A book rested in their hand against their raised leg, a cup of tea held in the other. Since the window she was sitting next to had a very clear view of the front of the house, Eras was able to see out of the corner of her eye as Muska fell face first into the moss ground while holding up an envelope.

Eras spit out her tea as she laughed and Muska got back up and ran into the house.

“SUGAR MOMMY THE MAIL CALL!” Muska screamed as she burst into the house. In response, Eras simply held out the hand with the book and let it drop to the ground, smacking Muska in the head from above.

“WhaT ThE FuCk?” Muska screeched as she snapped her head up to glare at Eras. A smug grin stretched over her features and she swung a leg over the pole off to the side of the door and slid to the ground.

“The acceptance letter came in then?” Eras asked, heading over to the kitchen to drop her mug in the sink.

“We literally don’t know whether or not I got in?” Muska said as she followed. Tibbles jumped from the catwalk as Muska passed the door frame and landed on her shoulders, a loud meow interrupting Eras’s rebuttal.

“Oh fuck off.” came Muska’s reply to whatever tibbles said. She waved off the next meow and walked over to the kitchen table. The black furball jumped off to sit next to Muska while on the table.

Once Eras sat on the opposing side, Muska tore into the envelope. Expecting a letter. Not a black disc. She and Muska stared in bewilderment before the disc lit up and projected a person up into the room. Nevermind.

“Its a fUCKIN RAT MAN?”

It's not a person, it's a Nedzu.

Tibbles, who had taken offence to the projected rat, dog, thing, swatted the projector and almost sent it flying if it weren’t for Eras’s inhuman reflexes. Catching the disc and reorienting it back where it was placed in the middle, The projector continued with little care of the scare he just gave the three.

Vaguely, Eras registered that Muska had passed and with flying colors, coming in second on the exam. Internally, though, she was searching for why Nedzu was sending out a projection. She had left a slight surprise in Muska’s quirk registry in order to figure out if the rat knew about the veil and what's beyond. Though she wasn’t expecting it to be found out so soon. What had Muska done to contradict the registry?

It clicked just as Nedzu cleared his throat once more.

“Also, seeing as you have achieved the highest score in the last 20 years of UA’s history on the written exam, I wish to extend a meeting to you to talk over tea. I am quite fascinated by your answers. Especially in the history section. Welcome Viridis! This is your academia!”

The light in the room came back to normal levels as the projection ended and Eras slammed her head onto the table, startling Muska out of her apparent shock.

“Uh, What?” The witch asked, completely unaware of what she did.

“What did you do during the practical?” Eras asked, muffled by the table top.

With a confused look, Muska went on to talk about their experience. From scouting to planning and scrapping some bots. Then as she got closer to the end, Eras was able to confirm her suspicions.

“This one girl had fracture so I healed that real quick and then focused on greenie-”

Well shit, Eras hadn’t expected Muska to instantly show off her healing capabilities. Now they had a meeting with the rat-man. Eras groaned and cut off Muska mid rant about red flags and someone named Midoriya.

“What?” Muska asked, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

“I made your quirk registry purposefully vague to accommodate for your other abilities and people wouldn’t know what to look for if they had never heard of the veil before. Nedzu probably saw you use Healing abilities, which I never mentioned to make sure the government didn’t flag you as a healer, and compared that to your probably almost first person account of history and connected the dots. Now you have a meeting with a rat man to talk about you possibly being a part of the veil.”

It was silent for a bit before a loud meow and purr followed and Muska slammed her head on the table.

“We know Tibbles, you don’t have to rub it in my face like that.”

@baguettehead

#bnha mha #bnha #mha oc #mha fanfiction

[butterfly-winx]

I'm not sure if you've already answered this but could u talk about everyone's first experiences with magic?

No I haven’t and I can’t claim I have thought about it long enough to have rock hard hc, but it’s a fun prompt anon, so here we go:

Bloom:

Aside from being protected from the flames of the house burning around her as a baby, Bloom’s first conscious brush with magic was actually using her innate aspect. She has always been a sensitive kid and everybody assumed it was just some form of hyperempathy when she talked about other people’s feelings with high accuracy. But when she categorised people into colours depending on their auras, she meant it. Then as sensitive weird kids be, Bloom was picked on a lot in late primary and middle school and that’s when her temper started to show. Bloom got angry easily and it only riled up the other children more to get her to show a reaction. Before that it was mostly tears, but one memorable occasion Bloom’s control over temperature manifested with her burst of anger and she made everyone and herself develop a sudden high fever. She fainted from it unfortunately and spent the next two years transfixed by all sources of fire and flames eventually circling back on her obsession with fairies and all things magic. The older she got the less she paid attention to the colourful auras until they completely faded from her everyday sight and only cropped up when she herself felt her emotion in a disarray. As Bloom got older, other magic effects started to crop up with higher frequency, like her “magically” avoiding injuries or recovering from them super fast, or never getting burned on hot pots as the Dragonflame started to feel cramped unused in her body. When Stella was being threatened by the goblins and the ogre, Bloom’s fight or flight instincts automatically allowed the Dragonflame an outlet. (She then of course followed Stella down a rabbit hole of an adventure and got a place in Alfea due to her new friend’s quick thinking and forgery)

Stella:

With two proficient magic users as parents Stella was practically hounded over as adults in her life anxiously waited for her to show signs of magic. She went through magic prep courses trying her hardest to please everyone who was so important to her. She wanted to be magic so bad, always afraid of that infinitesimal chance that she didn’t get all the right genes from her parents. At age seven she was kind of a late bloomer for fully magic children to yet show any sign of magic sensitivity, and she spent another short holiday with her mother’s family up north. it was Stella’s favourite pastime to wander as close to the edge of the estate as she dared to alone in the constant twilight of the Solarian pole. Her favourite spot was a little cropping of shrubs populated by lighting bugs that always flocked to her when she came by. The loved collecting the shiny rocks as well that lit up at her touch and create her own little sun filled garden in the back where no one would bother her for hours. In retrospect Stella can tell exactly why she hasn’t come forward with all of these light related oddities, wanting to keep her island of peace to herself, but back then baby Stella really just didn’t clock that this could be related to her magic aspect. Her grandma eventually noticed and eased her into the thought that yes, she was definitely magic. After that the expectations were laid on even thicker instead of getting easier to bear as Stella got instructions at school and from both of her parents after school. Luna was very helpful with first developing Stella’s magic, so Stella actually started off with a stronger focus on her moon based powers. Radius with his control over bright skies was not very useful and Stella soon started feeling guilty over that and took up sun focused spells and fey magic explicitly to please her father. Radius would have loved her no matter what, but Stella’s insecurities were early risers and she felt the need to please others, so she was more than happy to follow his footsteps and enrol off planet in Alfea, his alma mater.

Musa:

She was equally under observation, only because she is mixed (human-elven) and it was unclear which type her magic would manifest as. Maylin herself a magic using elf would have loved to teach her daughter all she knew, but there was of course always room for her to chose a human stream, should she take after her human father more. That Musa was magic sensitive was a well known fact ever since she was a baby and was able to produce... quite a cry. Maylin was lovingly warned that her daughter was likely to be a musical type along with a gift of full sound-blocking earbuds. At age six Musa could remember the melodies of over 300 pieces of music of ranging complexity, regularly got birds to sing for her and had impeccable hearing - all in all she showed signs of having a promising future as a magic user. For her to be gifted with skills in music that brought Maylin and HaoBai together was a blessing from the Heavens. Then Maylin died and Musa and her father’s world shattered with her. Grief can have complicated effects on one’s magic, and Musa age 9, appeared with dried up magic meridians like she was a l 90 year old. It took a lot of family counselling and well timed teenage rebellion for her to pick up music and with that magic again. And it was hard work, let her tell you that. Both letting magic inot her and developing a feeling for it and doing it all while hiding from her father, afraid he’d want to ban her music and snap instruments again (it happened once, and HaoBai isn’t proud of how much the pain of loss had consimed him at that moment). At fifteen she finally had enough and decided to go head first for it, insisting her half-orphan “recompensation fund” to be used as tuition at Alfea College for fairies, despite never having received any magic prep education. Through brute force, luck and insane talent Musa aced all entrance examinations and made it despite it all.

Techna:

As childbirth on Zenith is, it was completely up in the air whether Techna would be magic or not.  All the early childhood signs Techna showed for their aspect were at first more or less mis-categorised as autism (which they absolutely have, but them going through technical books detailing the technological systems of ancient civilisations daily wasn’t just that). The first one suspecting they have magic was actually Techna’s elder sister, Electra. Electra five years older than Techna was very into the idea of a baby sister and loved smushing and cuddling Techna, which Techan absolutely hated and kept giving Electra static shocks out of nowhere. Once Electra understood where static came from and identified that there was absolutely nothing charged around Techna when they did that, she became suspicions. The whole family found out when during dinner, Techna announced in the calmest voice possible that they have heard the car talk and it told Techna exactly what was wrong with it setting an end to their parents tense discussion about the car having issues. The car was sent for repairs, confirming what Techna had  said and Techna was taken for a magic sensitivity test having that confirmed. (Baby Techna like: oh yeah I could always hear machines they just usually don’t have anything worthwhile to say). She wasn’t quite five at this point. Magic isn’t as widely practiced on Zenith and it took Techna’s ranerts a while to find a magic prep school for them to attend after school, which ended up being outside the borders of Transjordan actually. The daily drive was very long and exhausting both for teen Techna and the parent of the day who had to drive them, so they started talking about sending Techna to a boarding school once they were old enough. Techha was left to do their own research and they realised they had quite many options, even with just narrowing it down to fey magic that were closer to home than Magics, but they all advertised themselves as “girls’ colleges” and even pre-gender realisation that just irked Techan for an inexplicable reason. They much preferred going to a coed school, so Alfea ended up as their first choice on the application form.

Layla:

In Layla’s case, detecting her magic sensitivity was incredibly difficult, seeing as she grew up practically constantly submerged in water playing with her cousins by the shore. Androsi people naturally have a large lung capacity and are able to dive long. That Layla dried super fast afterwards and never got salt rashes was also brushed under the rug ascribed to good royal hygiene and skin care. When she started being schooled in the castle Layla was colossally bored. She received basic magic training just because, no one actually expected her to be magic since they believed she didn’t show any sensitivity for it, and kind of for shits and giggles Layla took it and ran with it. Layla discovered privately in tidal caves just what a mistake that was able to make the water be kind to her and mold and move just so she could always get out unharmed. She surprised everyone at age eleven when during a banquet the visiting princeling was annoying her just so much, she used her water magic to turn his strictly pomaded hair into a bird’s nest, overshooting and drenching the next three dignitaries around him as well. The party stopped. At first Layla though she was going to get into so much trouble, caught under the strict eyes of her father, but as it turns out, he was overjoyed. Layla was put on a fast track for learning magic and surprised people once again choosing fey magic and being able to transform at the tender age of 13. She was never sent to Alfea, but received the offer from Faragonda after the Darkar incident thinking Layla could easily make it to Enchantix (which she did, this girl is talented).

Flora:

Both of Flora’s parents are untrained magic users, so her being somewhat sensitive at least was also expected. Flora loved sitting to the side watching her father run the potion shop when she wasn’t chasing all her other parental figures and watching what they were doing with curious eyes. She loved it when her aunti Nimali gave her bumps and scrapes a little kiss so she started doing that to all sorts of things including her father’s ingredient plants. He was indulging her harmless kid fantasy, knowing full well that most of his magic plants responded to emotions like they had a soul and was more than surprised when he found these plants not only healed but sprouting wildly whenever Flora gave them a small “get well smooch”. The village talked it all over and Flora was given over to the local magic users to train with and shadow what they were doing. Her interest in potion making however prevailed and by the time she emerged from Nature’s Teaching Path having singlehandedly ran the little children’s colony it was very clear that Flora would need to receive proper training from a proper institution. She was just too good at magic for her family to fail her not being able to offer her more knowledge. Flora wanted magic with frankly for her startling greed and ambition, but she hated the idea of moving away. She could have just gone to Woodland College like most other magic users, but even there the entrance exam examiner was suggesting the school was too small for her. (And Flora kind of felt that - she overthought the whole exam because it was just so simple, she just had to touch the plant, and will the box to float. Her aspect of plant growth might not have given her complete control over the environment, but she was still a lot better than her peers.) The teacher spoke to the Council about the potential of sending Flora off planet and now that had her attention and full investment in doing everything the Council demanded to get her a visa to study in Magics.

Out of the six Layla and Techna were able to transform already before they came to Alfea, Flora and Stella had unstable first attempts (Stella during her own first year that is, not her re-run), while Bloom and Musa were the only ones who fully had to learn it from scratch during their first year.

Stella and Layla pay their tuition from royal funds, Flora is Lynphean Council sponsored and Bloom after the first year paid from Callisto’s royal fund (oops) is on a Magics scholarship for minority cultures as a surviving Dominian. Techna benefits from Transjordan’s education scheme which gives students a basic income, their parents supplement the small remainder, while Musa is 100% self sponsored from aforementioned widower’s trust fund they got after Maylin’s passing.

#winx club #asks #worldbuilding #magic lore #I went a little bit beyond and talked about how they ended up at Alfea as well #Anonymous

[novelsandtea]

Book Review: A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Rate: 4.5/5

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it. The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other. Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts. Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

 This is the fourth book in Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses world. If you haven’t read the first three books – Go read them! Not only are they amazing stories, but this book will not make much sense without the background, even if it is more of a spin-off from the core trilogy. 

I really liked this book! It has a little bit of everything: drama, quests, banter, romance, danger, spice (okay more than a little bit there). Its over 750 pages long, and I spent almost every free moment I had reading it and was finished in three days. That’s saying something since I’m not a particularly fast reader. I had worried about getting into a story that was not only not focused on my favorites from the previous books, but one of the two POVs was probably my least favorite character of the entire series (hello Nesta). By the time I finished it, however, I was cheering for every success these characters had! I seriously recommend this book, especially to anyone interested in a story that has a slower build but is still packed with wonderful moments that will have you at the edge of our seat.

Aaaand that’s really all I have for the non-spoiler section! Full review below.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Since finishing the book, I’ve sat down and really thought about the plot of the story. As Maas’s books are typically very action packed, I had gone into this book expecting the same. While still having some real tense action scenes, a lot less happens in this book which is surprising considering its size. I think that is telling of Maas’s talent in her character development and her ability to make a story of recovery and growth as riveting as one filled with war and battles. The majority of the story is focused on Nesta and her healing from the traumatic events she had gone through during the previous books. I truthfully never really liked Nesta, and I found her to be incredibly selfish and harsh. Even in the beginning of ACOSF, she is always angry and lashing out at everyone around her. While it had me wanting to pull out my hair, I ended up loving that we get that unapologetic broken character in the beginning. We follow Nesta throughout her entire arc of recovery. We see her in her lowest of lows and are right alongside her as she learns how to work through her traumas and pain and face the person she has become. I especially loved the focus on healing broken relationships and accepting both responsibility and forgiveness. Not everything is perfectly healed by the end, but we do see Nesta walking a better path having accepted all parts of herself, both dark and light. A lot of time is spent on Nesta trying to push down that darkness and death that she associates with her powers. Seeing her not only accept that part of her but finally understand how she can exist beyond it was so impactful, and I think it does a good job of holding a mirror to similar feelings that I believe a lot of people have experienced. I really loved the hike and breakdown that followed her explosion at Amren’s place and the reveal to Feyre. The way mental health is represented in this book is refreshing, and so many parts of it felt so raw and real. It really struck a chord with me, and moved me in many ways as I was reading. It may sound cliché, but reading about Nesta learning to heal helped me acknowledge and accept parts of myself.

While Cassian is half of the POV in this book, it truly does feel like Nesta’s story. That being said, I did love the parts of Cassian we had. I loved reading his struggle with wanting to be there for Nesta in the ways she needed but also needing to protect himself. I adored how he truly saw her and always accepted every part, even all the ugly spots. When he felt the mating bond snap into place but left knowing Nesta couldn’t deal with it at that time, gah I was dying. Cassian never once pitied her. He wanted to help and protect her, but he knew it was a journey she had to do herself. He is a leading force in Nesta’s growth and constantly offers both his own strength and vulnerability. I really enjoyed seeing the love grow between them, especially as Nesta learned to open herself more to the possibility of healing and finding her own place and purpose. I just really can’t get enough of them together! I also really loved the moments we got between the three brothers – I was surprised by how much I had wanted those scenes. It was exciting to get a closer glimpse into that aspect of Cassian’s life, and the bond between him, Az, and Rhys.

I can’t avoid at least mentioning the smut in this book. All I will really say is this book has really stepped fully into the adult category. The scenes were extremely intense, steamy, and pretty descriptive. If you were looking for that typical Maas smuttiness aspect, be prepared for this book to be several notches above what we’ve seen previously (and a lot more of it).  

I could seriously talk about this book forever, but as I already fear I’ve begun to ramble, I’m just going to list some of my favorite things I haven’t mentioned yet below:

 The House!! I loved the relationship that developed between it and Nesta. Their interactions really became conversations, and I loved the idea of a sentient object becoming a core force in Nesta’s life. Also only-bubble baths and a baby pegasus are always a win.

Every snarky comment between Nesta and Cassian. Extremely entertaining and witty.

The entire Court of Nightmare scene with the dancing. So powerful and I loved seeing Nesta in her element.

The process of Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn coming together. I really loved reading about their training together, and the chapters once they meet up in the Blood Rite were some of my favorites. Their mini romance book club was precious.

A Rhys and Feyre baby! While I had some issues with this plot point, I still enjoyed the place it had in the story. The reactions of Cassian and Azriel was one of my favorite moments of the entire book.

The introduction to what I assume is the next major villain for the rest of the series. While it didn’t feature too largely until the end of the book, I think it did a good job setting up the situation for future installments.

The search for the Dead Trove. I really loved each moment we get, especially with the kelpie during the search for the mask. Good stuff

A few things I didn’t love:

I didn’t love how often Mor was gone. I know she did not really have a role in this story, but it would have been nice to see her more in passing as we did other characters.

The whole early delivery aspect of the pregnancy plot line. It felt a little plot convenient to me, and no explanation was ever given. I did like Nesta’s sacrifice and that moment, but I didn’t like how and why it happened.

I didn’t love that Rhys was trying so hard to hide the truth about the pregnancy from Feyre. I can kind of understand it when thinking about how he knew they were all probably going to die (that dumb bargain what the heck) but it is still stupid. Not the biggest issue to me, just not my favorite thing.

How much time we spent focused on the queen only to have her completely removed from the entire story in a blink. I know Nesta was insanely powerful at the time, but I just wanted…more.

I went into this book with very different expectations from what I got. I really enjoyed reading it, and I will definitely be getting the next book when it is published. Whether you loved or hated Nesta in the earlier books, I would recommend giving this one a chance. It sure changed my mind! Let me know your thoughts, I would love to discuss it!

#nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #sarah j maas #acosf book review #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta #cassian #rhysand #feyre #feysand #book reviews #books #acosf spoilers #nesta archeron #azriel #gwyn berdara #elain archeron #emerie #fae #library #novels #acofas #acomaf #acowar #sjm

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Whumptober Day 18: To Fix What Is Broken

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 18, follow-up to Day 12. Set after Httyd 2, not canon-compliant with THW. Years after their mistake, the Gang may need to force Hiccup to break down the wall he's constructed since then. It may not end as terribly as it did last time.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: None

Words: 5 187

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: "Panic Attack”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: NOTE: The rape/non-con elements in this fic are purely implied and referenced. Nothing is explicitly shown.

Not sure how much I've succeeded at portraying a panic attack in this one. I’ve only done it once before and it’s in an unposted one-shot. So I have no idea how well I’ve written a panic attack.

Might also be too long. I tried to look at what needed cutting, but I had no idea what.

Also written as a follow-up to Whumptober Day 12, which I will be linking.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3 to Whumptober Day 12

Ao3 To Whumptober Day 18

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In the end, nothing got fixed. After his outburst in the Dragon Academy and doing "damage control" with his father, Hiccup somehow managed to convince him to let him go back to the Edge, and then it's like everything went back to normal.

Normal as in Hiccup pretending like nothing happened and continuing on as usual. Giving orders, prioritizing dragons and beating Dragon Hunters, sassing, the whole charade. He simply goes about his business, truly as if nothing happened that day, as if they hadn't hurt him and he hadn't hurt them.

A part of them is selfishly relieved and wants to go along with the pretend, but a slightly bigger part of them knows it isn't right, that Hiccup is simply ignoring the issue altogether in the hope that it will just go away.

So they've tried to bring it up with him. At dinner, during game night, during a patrol, any moment where he can sit down and have a talk. But he always shuts them down as soon as the subject is brought up, telling them not to make such a big deal out of something so stupid and small and to let it rest.

Sometimes they don't even get the chance to start talking before Hiccup would leave the room as soon as they sit down. There's just something about the way they sit down whenever they try to talk to him that tips him off to what they're planning on doing.

This whole thing has made him a hypocrite because he wouldn't just let this rest if the person suffering isn't him. Though to be fair, he would be a lot more sensitive about it than they have been.

The worst part is that their attempts at reaching him aren't only in vain, they make things worse between them and him, too. Though he and Toothless seem to be doing fine, the two of them go off together without the rest of the Dragon Riders a lot more than they used to even at the very beginning of the Dragon Academy.

Hiccup spends more time by himself, while game night often keeps going until the wee hours of the night, he only stays for an hour or two before retreating to his hut or forge to do whatever.

And then they get captured again. The Riders fight and fight to make their captivity end as soon as humanly possible, to save Hiccup from more hurt, but when they get home, Hiccup and Toothless disappeared for days.

So instead of suffering through this period of pain on the Edge, he was suffering through it somewhere else instead, with only Toothless there to see it.

It's so unhealthy. The way he avoids it altogether, pretends like nothing is wrong, like his head isn't full of what he's enduring. The way he runs from his second home, from his friends, to suffer completely on his own only to return and continue to act like nothing's happened and like he hasn't been gone.

So they let it rest, feeling like they have no other choice. After telling Stoick had been disastrous, after returning to the Edge, after attempt after attempt ends in failure, they decide to let it rest. Maybe them "letting it go" will, at the very least, urge Hiccup to stay home when he has these troubling episodes. That way, he's safe with them when he has them and not off to Odin knows where.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, life has a way of confronting someone with their traumas.

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

Years pass.

Drago Bludvist happens, Hiccup finds out his dead mother isn't actually dead, Stoick is killed, Hiccup becomes Chief of the Hooligan tribe at the young age of 20, and Eret joins the Dragon Riders. Once again his life is turned upsidedown, but besides a few references here and there, Viggo's criminal acts are never talked about.

Despite this, the Riders know that the former Dragon Hunter Chief is far from forgotten, even while dead.

Because Berk is a very handsy place and Berk doesn't know about Hiccup's ever-growing aversion to touch. They act around him as they always have, Hooligan friendly, and his friends have seen his discomfort that everyone else is either blind to or attributes to his awkwardness.

On that front, Eret is very observant, keeping it at friendly shoulder pats.

But it isn't just the "no touching", the Riders can see Viggo's influence on other aspects of Hiccup's life.

They can see when he's having a particularly bad episode by the bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep, by the weight he loses when eating becomes a problem, or when he suddenly and inexplicably needs to leave a room and won't be back for hours.

They've never disturbed him before, but they know he's at the cove with Toothless when he does this. So at least they know he's safe.

But Hiccup's wardrobe isn't lost on them either. Going from a simple tunic and somewhat plain armor to layers upon layers with armor on top and belts in more places than they need to be, one dagger strapped to an arm, and his Inferno strapped to his thigh,... the Riders aren't idiots.

Berk may think it's his taste for the dramatic, but they know that he's making up for a concerning lack of a sense of security. Viggo's death hasn't made him feel any safer and Stoick's has made that even less so.

It's all leather, too, all except for his tunic.

It always takes him minutes just to reach his main tunic and knowing Hiccup that is bound to bite him in the ass someday.

And it did.

Having allies means coming to their aid in their time of need and that can sometimes result in one of the Dragon Riders getting hurt. This time, it so happened to be Hiccup.

Aiding the Berserkers when an enemy tribe thought to raid them, the Dragon Riders came to help and in the ensuing battle, Hiccup got knocked off Toothless.

It is easier to down a disabled dragon than a fully-abled one, even with a rider, but throughout the years, their grace in the sky hasn't just grown, but their chances of being downed have lessened.

Unfortunately for Hiccup and Toothless, that means crashing just hurts more. As a dragon, Toothless is sturdy and can therefore shake a crash or two off, but as a mere human, Hiccup cannot.

Unable to just walk it off, he was taken to the healer to be looked at and treated. He'd been unconscious the whole way there, a blessing because that meant he didn't need to feel them move him and cause him more pain in the process, a curse because that meant he woke up in a stranger's home.

"He won't let me treat him," The healer had to tell the Riders and Heather, the Berserker Chieftess. Despite her many attempts at soothing him and telling him that he needs to be examined, he still won't let her.

The Riders, standing outside of her shack, all look at each other, knowing why Hiccup is refusing treatment and too afraid to say.

Heather places a hand on Astrid's shoulder, sharing her troubled mood. She, too, knows of Hiccup's fear, having lived on the Edge for a time and experienced his episodes for herself.

"Maybe it'll help if his friends are there? A familiar face can do wonders." She suggests, while Eret steps forward.

"This is so strange. The Chief has his reckless moments, but refusing treatment just seems... not like him." He says and he's right. This is beyond being reckless, this is endangering his own life.  And not just for some stunt, but for refusing treatment!

"We can go in and see what we can do, but you're going to have let Toothless in. Hiccup won't accept treatment without him in the room." Astrid tells the healer. It's not a plan that guarantees success, but it's better than forcing him to comply with something that triggers an old fear.

The healer sighs and nods. She's not particularly happy to have a Night Fury in her home and place of work, but she recognizes that she needs to allow it for her patient's sake.

Astrid turns to face Toothless, who was all but glued to the door of the shack, awaiting the moment he could join Hiccup's side again. Was because he's already entering after pawing the door open.

So she turns to Eret instead.

"Eret, I know you want to help, but I need to ask you to stay here." She tells him and Eret nods. It's not that she wants to exclude him, it's just that he probably doesn't know and Hiccup would probably like to keep it that way. Until he wants to talk about it himself, that is. They've learned their lesson about telling people something this personal, even if they think it's for his sake.

The rest of the Riders, they follow Toothless inside. What they find is Toothless and Hiccup having what can only be called a stand-off.

"Oh great, guys, can you tell Toothless to move? He's not letting me leave." Hiccup requests when he notices they aren't alone anymore, but quickly resumes his staring contest with the dragon, who is rumbling challengingly. In a "you just try to get past me" kind of way. His tail is swaying behind him.

"Leave? You need medical attention, you can't leave!" Astrid replies surprised.

"Which I can get plenty of back home. Berk isn't far by dragon." Hiccup passes Toothless and for all his bravado, he realizes that he can't actually stop him from leaving the healer's hut.

The Riders and Toothless watch him limp towards the door, holding his side. He still looks like just as much of a mess as when Eret brought him in, including the bloody pants that he has bandaged rather messily. As someone who knows at least a thing or two medically and knows of the importance of proper treatment, this only shows his urgency to get out of here.

Catching him trying to limp past them and out the door, Astrid comes to stand before him, effectively stopping him in his way. Blinking in surprise, Hiccup looks at her.

"Wow hey, you can't just leave. A few hours by dragon is still far when you have injured your ribs. Especially when you have healer and supplies right here." She tells him and Hiccup doesn't like what he's hearing. She's making sense to him as well, of course, but his high levels of discomfort are overruling his common sense.

"Astrid, I'm fine. I can breathe fine, albeit, with a little bit of pain, I can make the trip back to Berk."

"So you say and then, once we're over the ocean with no island for miles you discover that, oh no, you suddenly can't breathe out of one lung! You faint, you and Toothless crash, and you both drown." Astrid puts her foot down and crosses her arms, scolding him for his way of thinking. "A little bit of pain" does not equal "okay".

"But that's why I have you guys, to keep that from happening." He says.

"Oh yeah, because we can definitely fix a collapsed lung on the spot." Snotlout sides with Astrid and comes to stand next to her, obstructing Hiccup's way out further.

Hiccup sighs and a look of pain passes on his face, the too deep release of air hurting his side.

"Hiccup, why don't you want to be treated?" Astrid asks, having some idea, but not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"It's just... It doesn't feel good to have a stranger..." Touch me, he wants to say, but having put up a wall between the Riders and his "issues", he refuses to say it.

"To have a stranger what?" Astrid asks, suspicious of what he actually wants to say.

"I just trust Gothi's expertise more." A rude thing to say, especially for him. They're lucky the healer isn't here to hear him.

The Riders glare at him and Hiccup looks away, uncomfortable with how rude he's just been to a woman who simply wants to help him. The words had left him before he could stop them and he regrets them already.

"Okay, we'll stay." He finally decides, but keeps standing by the door because he doesn't actually feel like moving, more so because of how much it hurts to use his injured leg.

He doesn't know what he cut his thigh on, just that it bleeds enough to require stitches and be at risk for infection. Which makes his decision to leave seem even more foolish and unlike him.

But the Riders don't blame him because they know exactly what causes this out of character behavior.

Offering her hands, Hiccup lets her help him sit down on the bed behind him. He'd been lying on it before, when he woke up and the healer tried to examine him and he was being too difficult of a patient.

Hiccup wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, he's anxious and his friends notice. Astrid crouches down in front of him.

"We can stay if you want us to. Fishlegs knows how to heal, he can even do it while the healer watches and helps where needed. We already convinced her to let Toothless stay. If having a familiar face helps you get through this, we're here for you." She talks vaguely about him not needing to be touched by a stranger or being left alone with a stranger on an island full of strangers.

Hiccup mulls it over, thinking about her offer, but then shakes his head lightly.

"This is stupid, she's not even..." A man, like he was. But he doesn't say it, whispering more to himself than he is talking to Astrid. They don't need to know. As if they don't know already.

"You're really anxious, it's not stupid." It's Snotlout who says this as he's surprisingly sensitive about this forbidden topic.

Hiccup looks up at his friends, Toothless purring as he invites himself in their space and nudges his human's uninjured leg in support.

He's not ready for this. He can feel himself sweating, his heart is pounding so much in dread that it aches, his anxiety is already through the roof.

He doesn't want to do this, but Astrid is right, this could potentially be needlessly life-threatening and he would be dragging Toothless down with him.

He just has to stop being so stupid and let the woman do her job.

"Okay, call her back in." Hiccup requests and lies back down with some difficulty while Fishlegs leaves to get her.

It'll be fine, it'll be fine, it'll be fine. It doesn't matter how many times he'll be repeating that in his mind, he'll have to do it as many times as it takes.

The old healer enters her hut again and she wants to get to work.

Hiccup watches her move around, his eyes following her as he attempts to control his breathing, as hard as it is with his ribs aching. Every breath in and out hurts him and that some part of him wants to draw shorter and shallower breaths with his rising nerves doesn't help.

She takes everything she may need. Cloth, bandages, water, herbs, anything to treat his injuries with.

It'll be fine, it'll be fine.

Everything in hand, Fishlegs helping her carry her stuff, she approaches and sets it all down.

"It'll be fine." Astrid looks at him when she hears him mutter.

But the second he feels hands trying to undo his belts, he panics. He takes her hands and pulls them away from him before rushing to sit up and hurting himself in the process. A cry of pain leaves him, everyone jumps to attention.

"Hiccup, wait, it's okay." Astrid tries to tell him, grabbing a shoulder.

"No! Nope! None of this is okay! I'm not okay!" He tells her before he winces and has no choice but to fall back down, holding his side and jostling his leg, which has bled through the bandages by now.

The Riders and Toothless gaze at him, the healer keeping her distance as she can tell this is a rather personal matter and so doesn't involve herself.

They listen to him groaning in pain, see the expression of agony as well as the sweat already glistening on his skin in the candlelight. His air intake is ragged. It is shallow and too fast, which only hurts him more.

"Hiccup," Astrid speaks his name, he shivers beneath her hand.

"No, I can't I... I just can't. I can't let this happen." This is wrong. This feels so wrong to him. The hands of someone that he doesn't know on his body where they don't belong.

In the past few years, the only ones who have been able to infiltrate his personal space in such a close manner have been his father and Toothless, maybe occasionally the Dragon Riders. Though, the Dragons more than the Riders.

And Berk, of course, but that was beyond his control. He doesn't like any of it and that is already hard to suffer through. Doing this is more than he can bear. He wants out.

He can already feel it creeping onto him. The hands.

"Hiccup, you need a healer." Astrid gently reminds him.

"I can put you under a sedative if that makes this procedure easier on you." The healer offers Berk's Chief some peace, at least for the next few hours.

"What? No! No sedatives!"

"Not even painkillers? It might help." Ruffnut suggests.

"No, no painkillers either. I want nothing." He's breathing so fast, he's becoming lightheaded. Meanwhile, his ribs burn.

"Then what do you want us to do?" Astrid asks, hoping Hiccup can tell them what he thinks will help him get through this most.

They've already gone behind his back once and it had made everything worse for him, had made things terrible between them.

But Hiccup shakes his head, not even knowing the answer to that question himself.

Gods, he can feel them. Disembodied hands where they don't belong, touching him where they were never meant to touch.

He wants to cry.

Astrid offers him her hand and he takes it too quickly and squeezes too hard. He's dying for comfort.

But he knows he needs to go through with it.

"Just go ahead with it. Just do it." He tells them uncertainly and the healer steps forward again, hands moving to his belts to undo them.

This time he lets her, but his hyperventilation worsens and so does his trembling. His eyes close as if it'll help if he can't see her hands on him. Feeling them on him is already bad enough.

He can feel other hands creeping upon him. They're bigger with more callouses and they aren't actually there, which is why they creep.

They belong to a man that isn't even alive anymore and yet, with every unwanted touch forced upon him, he can feel him again.

"Shhh, it's okay. You'll get through this. Just breathe, Hiccup, breathe." Astrid tells him and he tries to keep a hold of himself to the best of his ability.

His vest is splayed upon and more wounds are made bare. Besides the aching of his ribs, there's a splotch of blood on the right side of his lower abdomen, close to the hem of his trousers.

"He's bleeding through his tunic." Snotlout mutters, bringing attention to it. The healer takes the hem of his tunic in order to take a look.

Hiccup can feel it, is too aware of her every move. Still squeezing Astrid's hand, he squeezes even tighter and she lets him. Tears wet his eyes and when she cautiously pulls it up, they slip free and he seizes her hands again, unable to bear any more of this.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay." Astrid holds all of their hands as she hushes him.

Toothless intervenes and headbutts his human's face, a gesture of affection that Hiccup returns.

"Yeah, it's okay, we're all here with you." Snotlout tells him, stepping forward, but not daring to go as far as Astrid is going. One of them is probably enough.

"Breathe, Hiccup. Breathe."

"I can't. I-I can't."

Fishlegs comes closer.

"Then maybe I can help! Try to follow along with me, okay?" Hiccup leaves Toothless to face him, who exaggerates his breathing in a slow and timely manner so he can keep up.

It's hard, but Hiccup tries his best to follow along until his breathing comes to a more natural pace and his lightheadedness doesn't turn to darkness.

Astrid manages to make Hiccup let go of the healer and hold onto her instead.

They don't like any of this, the panic attack, the sweat sticking his clothing to his skin, or the tears now sliding down his face. His lip is trembling, his everything is trembling.

This is what he hid from them after their damning talk with Stoick for so long, this is what Viggo has done to him. Their fearless leader rendered to this. The fact that they still don't know the details haunts them to this day.

He can still face any enemy, can stare down death itself if he has to, but he can't stand being touched, not even if it's for his own well-being.

"This is so stupid." They hear him mutter, something they've heard him repeat over and over again with whatever involves his issues. They don't know what he thinks is so stupid, but they've heard him say this so many times by now.

Astrid dares to take a seat on the bed next to him and lets go of his hand to cup his cheeks. He stares up at her with a wild look of panic. If he wants her to let go, she trusts that he'll let her know.

"Hiccup, please listen," She starts and hopes that's what he'll do.

"We're all here to protect you. I know we've failed you before, but no more. You're safe with us. Tonight, tomorrow, every day for the rest of your life, you're safe." She tells him and his hands take hers, but he doesn't pull them away. Her touch is light, so it wouldn't be hard to remove them, he wants them there.

"We love you. Please let us protect you." She requests with genuine emotion.

He nods.

"Okay," He says quietly, barely above a whisper as most of his voice is stuck in his throat. It's a miracle he even got that much out.

Toothless rumbles encouragingly and invites himself partially into the bed, pretty much wrapping his forelegs around his Rider, but staying mindful of his injuries.

Hiccup lets go of Astrid's hands, gaining some control over himself.

Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut take them, watching for any reaction that might tell them this is the wrong move to make. So far, there isn't any.

This might be it, the opening they've been waiting for. For years Hiccup has been completely closed off on this topic, he's locked his fears up tight and thrown away the key. But now, perhaps the door stands open on a creak and they're allowed a peek inside with a promise for more.

Whether this is what it is or not doesn't matter at the moment. What does matter, is helping him through tonight.

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"Hey, how're you feeling?" Back on Berk, Astrid asks Hiccup this question as they enter his home a few days later.

Looking up from his blueprints, he watches them enter with a tired smile.

He's sitting on a chair, wearing a comfortable tunic to spare his bruised ribs the weight that comes with many layers. The stitched gash on his lower abdomen benefits from this, too. He doesn't like it, but Toothless is with him always and so is Sharpshot, who lies curled up on the table. His injured leg rests on another chair, the wound having been stitched closed and showing no signs of infection so far.

"Eh, tired. Maybe in need of some more painkillers. It's been a few hours and my everything hurts again." He answers as they walk further into the home, greeted by Toothless who croons their way happily. He's lying curled up around Hiccup's spot, helping him feel secure as he can't wear his "shield".

Ever since that night, something has changed in their group again. Talking with him, being around him, it's easier. It's as if there's been this tension for so long that nobody even noticed after a time, and now that it's finally gone and they can all feel that lack of weight.

"I'll go make some!" Fishlegs offers himself up and disappears into the kitchen.

"How is everything with the village outside?" Hiccup asks, hoping that his work isn't stacking up as he spends his time inside recovering. He is weirdly okay with staying indoors. So far, at least.

"We're managing things, the twins are actually fixing stuff more than they break it," Astrid informs him.

"Hey, we can be very good repair people." Ruffnut protests.

"Besides, just means there's more for us to break later," Tuffnut mutters to her, and the two snicker. Astrid and Snotlout both roll their eyes.

"We'll make sure they don't break stuff later." The latter promises with a deadpan. Hiccup smiles at him gratefully.

"Here it is!" Fishlegs returns with a painkilling, and possibly sleep-inducing, broth and hands it to Hiccup.

"Thanks," He says, taking it and then staring at it as he holds it in his hands. He's not exactly looking forward to it, these broths never taste that pleasant. This one doesn't even smell good.

He should take it, get rid of the pain, and maybe get some shut-eye. These blueprints can wait.

But first, there's been something that he's been contemplating as he waited for his friends' inevitable visit for the day. They always come by.

"Hey, um..." He starts, gaze still on the cup with the broth.

The Riders look at him, wait for him to talk, and say what's on his mind as there is clearly something.

They aren't quite prepared for the topic he's about to bring up, but the day they've been waiting for has finally arrived.

After some hesitation, Hiccup forces himself to say it.

"He never went all the way."

Surprised to hear him talk about it, the Gang listens.

"Vi-Viggo, he... He never..." Hiccup stops talking then and they don't interrupt or try to finish his sentence for him. They can tell it's taking him everything just to talk now, he's not even looking at them, hand coming up to hide most of his face from view.

Toothless purrs, sitting up to meet Hiccup at eye-level, but he's not looking at him either.

"It really did just stay with words and... and touches... Every time I got captured and taken to him, but... That's it, nothing else." It's not like they don't know that something's been done to him, but to actually hear him say it, to hear their suspicions be confirmed is something else entirely.

The twins share a saddened look, Fishlegs looks down at his hands, and Astrid and Snotlout both feel themselves tense up. It's been a good few years and still, it makes them so angry that any of it happened.

Back to the conversation, Snotlout wanted to remind him that that wasn't nothing, but Astrid stops him. Hiccup is finally talking, they should let him have his say before they comment.

Still unable to bear to look at his friends, Hiccup wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers.

"It-it-it... "It" never actually happened so-so it-so it just seemed so stupid to feel the way I did. The-the way I do. Like-like I was hurt when I wasn't." That was part of the problem, it wasn't as bad as it could've been and that made worrying about it seem so dumb to him.

He's lucky. That's what he's been telling himself. He's lucky.

"So stupid," He repeats, feeling like an attention seeker for something that was "not as bad as it could've been". So many people have suffered worse than him, he shouldn't complain.

He rocks nervously, trying to cope with the influx of memories that have festered over the years, with the shame welling up. Thus far they've only been dealt with by cramming them into the darkest corners of his mind, a fruitless effort that usually ends in frustration and anger. There they have continued to rot and chipped away at him piece by piece like an untreated infection.

Bringing it up now still hurts just as much as it would've hurt to bring up back then.

As a brief silence sets in, Astrid dares to take a step and sits down at the table on a seat next to him.

"I think you and I both know that he doesn't need to go "all the way" for this to hurt, Hiccup. What happened was so, so traumatizing, doesn't matter how far he did or didn't go. And it happened... It happened multiple times." Astrid has to swallow, feeling like she might throw up if she doesn't.

"If we were in each other's shoes, you would be telling me the exact same thing." She tells him and Hiccup finds that she has a point.

If this had happened to Astrid, to any of his friends, he wouldn't stand for them to call their reaction to being... to being... He wouldn't call them stupid, he wouldn't call them calls for attention.

"He hurt you and you have every right to be angry, even now." She continues.

"We all hurt you." Snotlout admits, coming to sit at the table as well. The others, they swiftly follow their example.

To hear them tell him that he has every right to be angry, to be hurt, is more relieving than he can ever express.

But there's a question Snotlout has been wondering about this whole time and he wonders if Hiccup will answer.

"How... I understand if you don't want to answer, but how far did he get?" If he's not ready to tell them yet, if he'll never be ready, then he'll understand.

Hiccup doesn't answer and while he's told them he never went "all the way", "not all the way" still seems to be pretty far.

He wants to cry again. The memories running rampant inside his mind, the non-existing hands that refuse to leave him, they make tears gather in his eyes.

He's in pain and has been for much too long. He feels like he's been on fire this entire time and that someone is finally putting out the fire.

It's with a mere cup, but it's a start.

Managing to look at his friends, Hiccup cautiously gazes at them all, fearing judgment as he finally bares it all.

Astrid reaches and takes his hand, squeezing it lightly. Perhaps, it's time to talk and let his family in.

#whumptober2020 #no.18 #panic attack #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfics #tw: implied non-con elements #tw: implied unwanted touching #hiccup haddock #hiccup whump #toothless #hictooth #dragon bros #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #ruffnut thorston #tuffnut thorston #my fanfics #to fix what is broken

[leavaloo]

hop x short delinquent trainer? like hop is only half intimidated cause of how short she is

Hello yes I love Hop so much?? Thank you for this absolutely blessed request

I uh. I might have gotten carried away with this request, lol. It’s basically a small fic. I had a really cute song in the background as I wrote this, so it ended up going from scary to cute, but hey! I’m real proud of this one. Hope you all love it as much as I do

Tw: Blood, blood mention, violence, fights, cuts, tending to wounds, implied gang situations, implied underground

There were reasons why Hop admired many of the people in his life, most notably Lee. For Lee, it was that despite his caring and carefree nature, he was strong and compassionate. Headstrong in some regards, goofy in others. But he was a leader, striking and heroic to many. In his ten years as Champion, he was a defender, a protector, and a friend to all.

Hop admired that.

When he met you, he was taken aback. You didn’t smile, nor did you give up your death glare. Lee was strong, yes, but his strength was warm, like a nice day in the sun. You? You had aspects of people that he admired, but you were still very... different. The brains of Sonia, the strength of Leon, the determination of Marnie and the straightforward thoughts of Bede. And yet, with all of those, you were cold.

Instead of Lee’s warmth, your strength was like being submerged into a freezing cold river. You were never afraid to speak your mind, and you didn’t need your Pokemon to beat the shit out of someone. Your fists could do the talking for you. Even without Pokemon, no one could beat you. People were scared of you wherever you went, which Hop found slightly amusing because you were an entire head shorter than him.

And Hop admired that.

Because of this, he decided that he wanted to understand what you were all about. It was a slow process, one that involved a lot of threats and glares in his direction. But no matter the bumps and bruises he got from you, he still stuck by your side. It was only after the first couple fights did he realize just how strong you were. You nearly beat someone half to death for touching you wrong, and as he watched from the sidelines, he could see that feral rage in you. That’s when he really started to get anxious around you.

You seemed to notice. Suddenly, all those death glares that you had sent his way just became really confused glances. Your threats became shallow, and you refused to go through with them. Hop had to stop a couple of times when you tried to make some jokes, but because of your nature they fell flat. He still laughed, partly to make you feel better, and partly because the shyness in your posture was so out of character for you. It was...

Cute.

It was when Hop accidentally got caught up in one of your fights that he really saw your true colors. He was tired of people slinging insults at you. And so he threw some back. It was natural, almost. He didn’t realize how protective he had been getting over you. Maybe it was your height, or the fact that he was seriously starting to crush on you. But he did it, and ended up getting a pretty nasty cut on his arm from the opposing Fraxure from it.

Hop, having grown up in a fairly uneventful household and area, didn’t realize how things worked in your world. People were out to do damage, to prove a point and to gain dominance. Hop also didn’t realize that you were a big deal in that scene. So when he got hurt, he watched as you finally pulled out your Pokemon for this fight. Your Sylveon jumped into the fray, absolutely decimating the other team, while two other strange Pokemon stood over him.

Two dog-like Pokemon, one with a dark blue coat and rocks coming out of it’s mane, the other with a light purple coat and eight long, flowing tails. The perpetrators ended up running with their tail between their legs, as well as blood down their temple, but you didn’t care. You ran right up to Hop and dragged him off the wild area.

The two Pokemon weren’t in the region, you had explained. A Lycanroc and Alolan Ninetails from Alola. But after that initial explanation, you went quiet. You took Hop’s arm, sitting him down by the campfire, and got to work. Your blue coated Sylveon occasionally would help with her ribbons, and also giving occasional healing. It was enough to stem the bleeding and at least close up the wound enough for a bandage. The entire time, you both were very quiet, with only the crackling of the fire beside you on this dark night to give a conversation.

And you looked so sad.

Every time Hop winced, you looked pained and ended up muttering a small sorry, one that was barely audible. This must have happened often with you, since you already had all of the supplies at the ready. You managed to clean off the crimson from his arm, stop the bloodflow, and he just looked you over as you wrapped the bandage around his arm.

He’d never seen you with another emotion besides anger. And now this sadness and guilt in your eyes, was it for him? He winced again as you tightly wrapped the bandage, which almost seemed to make you wince yourself.

“Sorry...”

“Stop it,” he finally said.

You stopped mid wrap and looked at him, almost broken.

“You don’t need to keep saying sorry. I did this to myself.”

“But--”

“No. Not buts. I started it this time, so stop it.”

You shifted slightly, looking down at the ground. “Y...You’re okay... right?”

That tiny question, the one that he could barely hear over the crackling fire, is what made his heart soar. You were worried for him. He could hear it not only in the question, but your quivering voice. He watched as you started to sniffle, and your shoulders started to shake. So he pulled you in for a hug. For once, you didn’t fight.

Your crying was very silent, so much so that he could barely even hear your sobs. And yet you clung to him like your life depended on it. He found his hand rubbing your back, and reassuring you that he was okay. Part of him was still intimidated by your strength, but he had to remind himself that you were human too.

“W-Why...” you got out, nose pressed against the soft fluff of his jacket. Hop stopped. “W-Why are you... s-so nice to me?”

He sighed. “Well, it was mostly cause I liked your strength at first... But then I get interested in what was driving you. You’re so powerful, and yet, you’ve yet to go and do the gym challenge. Everyone was so scared of you, and so I wanted to see what was going on.” Hop sighed again, not really knowing what to expect out of his next sentence. “A-And... and then you got cute.”

Your body tensed up, and your grip tightened on his jacket. He continued on. “I started seeing your real self little by little, and it was... really nice. I started to enjoy being around you and... color me crazy, but I consider you a friend.”

“A... friend...?”

“Yeah.”

“...I’ve never had a friend before...” you whispered.

Hop held you closer. “You have one now.” Even though I think I might like you more, he thought to himself. “Besides, I should be thanking you. After all, you’re the one that saved me back there.”

“You shouldn’t get caught up in my battles.”

“And are you going to stop me?”

“Hoooooppp,” you whined, groaning against him. He laughed, knowing that the answer was clearly no.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from your eyes and taking his arm again. To break any sadness in your eyes, he ended up starting to tell you stories. It was a gift to hear you laugh and to see you smile. This terrifying, tiny girl who had the capacity to kill another human being, enjoyed his presence so much that she wanted to protect him.

Over the next month or so, you started to change, little by little. Your jokes had more punch to them. You started to experiment with your style, and instead of dark blacks and greys, you started to put more color in. You two went out and ended up camping together sometimes in the wild area. You didn’t get in as many fights.

Maybe it was that you didn’t need to be so defensive anymore. You had someone to help and support you. But really, in Hop’s mind, this was ten million times more terrifying, because he knew where you kept all of your knives in your dresses. You really took cute but deadly to a whole new level. Hop idly wondered one night with you curled up against his chest if either of you really understood how close you were growing. He also wondered how much it would take to get you to battle Lee.

That would be an extremely interesting battle.

#pokemon #pokemon fic #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh imagines #pokemon swsh #pokemon swsh writing #pokemon swsh scenarios #pokemon swsh request #request #anon ask #kai writes #hop pokemon #rival hop #hop swsh #hop #swsh hop #hop fluff #pokemon fluff #delinquent rival #delinquent trainer #delinquent reader #f!reader #f!reader pokemon #hop x reader #hop x f!reader #hop x you #hop x trainer #tw blood #tw violence #tw slight gore

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 6 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Truth

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A FLASHBACK. It is set in the past, and you will now all get to understand why those awful cliffhangers were a necessary part of this story ;) Feel free to gawk in the comments section if you wish, but I have many more plans for this story! I think I’m going to even continue it on past the movie plot line too! I love you all my darlings, thank you for your patience. Next update might come a little slower due to the whole corona virus thing. Stay safe!

Warnings - Flufffffffff

♡♡♡

It was a beautiful day in another world, far, far away from the one we know. 

The sun was shining high in the sky, smiling down on the exotic loop-de-loops, flora, and fauna. Critters fluttered about the land, most of them average and just going about their days. But if you looked very closely and kept your eyelids peeled, you could see an electric blue blur zipping through the fields. Behind the blur, not too far away from its tail, was another blur, only it was an icy blue color, just a pinch away from being white.

The two zipped throughout the island, and you could just barely hear a soft little tune coming from the electric ice blur as it raced after its friend. 

Ah~, ah~. High and low, then high and low again. The song echoed softly over the hills, almost as if it were being intentionally silent, trying to suppress its full abilities of vocal range. The two balls of light zipped through the blades of grass, flying through loop-de-loops and racing past the echidnas until they finally burst through the door of a tiny little hit in the trees. They hit the very tall, very beautiful owl that had been sleeping on her perch with a start, and finally slowed down to a stop on the ground, revealing two hedgehogs. One was a bright electric blue with a set of the most dreamiest green eyes you had ever seen. He wore a pair of white gloves and some very worn out tennis shoes on his feet, an excited smile never leaving his face. His quills here spiky and brushed out of his face, but posed as a threat to anyone who got too close. The other one had a gorgeous icy blue coat on her. Her eyes were a bright e/c and her smile could make anyone fall in love. She had some of the softest quills anyone had ever seen, falling back onto her head in what any human would have mistaken as her hair. Two gold piercings were embedded on her left ear, and she sported the same pair of white gloves and a slightly smaller pair of shoes that the boy did.

They were very young, barely teenagers. 

“Ha! I beat you again, N/n!” The blue hedgehog taunted, sauntering around in circles around his friend. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching with close eyes as he walked around her.

“I’ll beat you one day, Sonic.” She spoke confidently. 

The young Sonic stopped and stared at her for a moment. Eventually she grew uncomfortable under his stare, waiting for him to say something. Finally, he lowered his eyelids, a sly smirk crossing his lips. Her eyes widened. She was in trouble now.

“Oh, really?” 

Y/n watched with fearful eyes as he advanced on her, like a cat stalking his prey. With every step he took, she took one back, her strong and confident facade crumbling until he finally sprang over to her. He grabbed her face surprisingly gently and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She let out a shriek, not being able to control the giggle that erupted from her as she pushed him away.

“Sonic!” She rubbed her cheek, attempting to get away from him but he was quick to grab her wrist, pulling her back into him where he kissed her other cheek again. She yelped again, both cheeks burning a bright red as his laughter filled the air. 

“Stop it!” Y/n laughed. It wasn’t too long before Longclaw’s laughter mingled with theirs. The two young hedgehogs turned back to their mentor, not even noticing that they were still holding hands. The owl’s smile slowly fell and was replaced with a stern expression.

“You two need to be more careful, running around like that! What if someone had seen you?” She glanced from Sonic to Y/n. “Or heard you?”

“No one saw us,” Sonic dismissed. “And Y/n’s been working on keeping her vocal telekawhatever under wraps-”

“Telekinesis,” Y/n corrected, her pitchy voice sounded a bit congested. “But he’s right! I was barely even singing that loud! I’ve almost gotten to the point where I can hum and still have the same effect!” She smiled proudly. Longclaw had found Sonic and Y/n in two different places at two different times, both with their own set of insanely powerful and unique abilities. Sonic was born with incredible powers that granted him super speed in every aspect of his being that became supercharged with his emotions. Y/n was born with what Longclaw had identified as vocal telekinesis. She had abnormally strong vocal chords, so much so that whenever she sang, she could move whatever she focused on. So far they had only been able to help her carry herself as a booster in order to keep up with Sonic when she was running, but they had been able to get her to lift a flower or orange here and there.

“And besides, I wanted to bring you this,” Sonic shot the owl the most adorable smile you can imagine, whipping an exotic flower out from underneath his quills. A smile began to form under Longclaw’s beak as she leaned forward to take it. Something moved out of her peripheral vision.

“Get down!” She cried, leaping forward and sweeping the two hedgehogs into her wings, slamming the door shut with her back just as the echidna tribe shot at the door. Y/n and Sonic clutched on to one another in fear, Y/n burying her face inside of her friend’s chest in fear. He held her closer to his racing chest, glancing around frantically as the guilt began to set in. They had led them here. They weren’t careful enough. The one time that they weren’t cautious and were just trying to have a kind hearted race was the time that they got caught. Longclaw was quick to tuck the little hedgehog’s under her wing as she burst out the window, flying high up in the sky, determination set in her eyes to get her children away from the danger. Unfortunately, the echidnas had very good coordination, as they sank one of their arrows straight into her rib. She let out a cry in pain, crashing onto the ground, hidden behind some trees. 

Y/n and Sonic tumbled out of her grasp, and once Sonic regained his balance, his first instinct was to grab onto Y/n. It was out of fear that if he wasn’t touching her that he might lose her to the ones that wanted their powers. Longclaw was quick to recover, ushering the two behind her as she pulled out a single bag with a handmade label on it reading “emergency.” Sonic and Y/n glanced worriedly at one another. 

“Listen carefully you two,” she struggled for breath. “You both have powers unlike anything that I have ever seen. And that means that someone is always going to want them. The only way to stay safe is to stay hidden.” The two watched as she threw one of the golden rings, opening a portal to some strange, dark forest. Y/n’s heart began to race, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she realized just what exactly was going on here. “This land is far away from here, somewhere where you two will be safe. Stay with each other, combined you two will be safe.” 

Sonic’s hand slowly found its way to Y/n’s, and this time she didn’t pull away. Longclaw handed the sack of rings to Sonic. 

“But we don’t want to leave you!” He protested.

“You must-” Longclaw was interrupted by the sounds of yelling, the echidna tribe fresh on their trail. “If either of you are ever discovered, use one. Never stop running. Now go!” She used her wing to push the two towards the portal. With one last tearful glance at their foster mother, Sonic tugged Y/n with him through into the dark woods. They turned back just in time to see Longclaw spread her wings out before the echidnas, trying to protect them from view. 

“Longclaw!” Y/n screamed, ripping her hand out of Sonic’s and racing towards the only mother she had ever known. Longclaw turned her head at the sound of the voice, a small smile lining her beak.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” 

“NO!” She screamed, running into the portal just as it dissipated. She stumbled on her feet, crashing onto the ground. Sonic zipped over to his best friend and sat down on the ground next to her, the bag of rings still firmly grasped in his hand. His gaze met Y/n’s just as the dam broke and the tears began cascading down her face. 

“H-hey,” Sonic stuttered, not being used to seeing her cry. She sobbed, tilting her head towards the ground as her body naturally leaned in towards him. At such a young age, neither of them were having a very easy time processing that they were now completely and entirely on their own. 

They only had each other now.

Sonic’s own emerald eyes filled with tears as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest, hoping she couldn’t sense how much it was racing. “It’ll be okay… we’ll figure it out.” 

Her sobbing slowed a little at his words, wrapping her own arms around his torso and giving him a hug. They stayed like that for a very long time...

♡♡♡

It had taken quite a while for Sonic and Y/n to grow accustomed to their new home. Since they were barely used to having to fend for themselves, even with Y/n’s competencies and Sonic’s ability to see the light in every situation, it wasn’t too long before they got discovered on the first planet Longclaw had sent them to. So, they went to another one.

And another one…

And… another one.

Until they finally came to a stop at the one they were on now. It was some sort of water based planet, where the grass was blue and the weeping willow trees were made of suspended particles of h2o. It wasn’t exactly the best planet for the two to be living on in order to practice their powers (they were growing with every year that passed), but they made do with what they had. The two hedgehogs were now around eleven years old, and they had already taught themselves how to build a shelter, how to find food, do chores, and ultimately protect themselves during the night. For the first couple of weeks, they had slept in shifts to keep an eye out for any predators that might come breaking down their wooden door. 

Maybe it was some PTSD from the echidna attack, but Y/n was the one who always had a horrible time sleeping, so she took most of the shifts. Out of “lack of materials”, Sonic had convinced Y/n that it would be easier for them to just share a bed, plus it made more room in their home to live. It was a bit uneasy at first, the tension in the air so thick that even a knife would have a difficult time cutting it. They had laid awake, just staring at each other until Y/n finally began to giggle and rolled onto her back. He did the same and by the morning light, they were in a tangle of limbs and leaf-sewn blankets. It turned out that Sonic moved quite a lot in his sleep, so when Y/n woke up with his arms wrapped securely around her, it was quite the pleasant surprise.

Honestly, to any other person that could have met these two, they would have easily mistaken them as a couple. From the way that even though they were opposite genders, they were able to work so perfectly. They switched on and off with cooking or finding food that they would eat for the night, and they helped each other train by imitating things that Longclaw used to say to them. Sometimes it helped them feel like she was still there… 

But besides the whole sleeping thing and spending all of their time together, the second Y/n asked Sonic for something or even was just about to suggest that they do something, he was always entirely on board. She didn’t even have to finish her sentence in order for him to be on board. She was all that he had, and he was all that she had.

Secretly, Sonic just could never find it in him to say no to her. With those gorgeous, dreamy eyes and bright smile, the way that her laugh made his heart melt, she was just so-

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. He wasn’t in love with her. There was no possible way!

She wasn’t like his sister, of course not! Y/n was more like… the insanely pretty girl that he lived with. God damnit.

Even though Y/n tried to convince herself of the exact same thing, she couldn’t help but notice that she felt differently about Sonic than anyone else she had met. No matter how many hours she spent with him, she never got tired of it. Things were always interesting whenever they were together because they both had a knack for the unusual adventures. He was always showering her with compliments (even when she tried to reciprocate he would always just turn up the heat), and he was just so sweet to her. He wasn’t too bad to look at either, if you get what I mean ;) 

As time progressed, the two grew closer, their bond knitting tighter together with every day. They had made some enemies along the way, and those enemies taught them that not every person is as good as they may seem. So they tried to stick to themselves as much as they could. It took a very long time for them to get over Longclaw as well, each day being a little bit harder to get through once the memory floated across their brains. But they knew that as long as they had each other, they would be okay.

They could run for as long as they wanted to.

But at least they’d never be alone.

♡♡♡

It was a rainy day when something horrible happened. 

Sonic was at home, goofing off as he listened to some music playing through a set of water speakers he had stolen from someone by the ocean. He was deep in the music, creating his own dance moves as he went along, bobbing his head to the beat. It was only when the door to their home burst open and a very frazzled looking Y/n slammed it shut that he turned off the speakers. 

“Hey, N/n,” he greeted, but his happiness slowly faded as he realized she was trembling. The ice blue hedgehog hadn’t moved from her position by the door, gloved hand still placed firmly on the doorknob as her eyes peered through the slight curtain covering the window next to the door. Her tail quivered like crazy and she was staying a lot quieter than normal. Sonic took the opportunity to slowly approach his friend, concern filling his eyes.

“Are you okay?” 

The second the words left his lips, she whirled around to face him and that was when he realized why she had been facing the door. She was crying. 

Tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, her nose turning a bright red. Her eyes had grown puffy, proving that she had been crying long before just now, the e/c irises full of guilt and pure sadness. Sonic could feel his heart breaking in his chest as he instantly wrapped his arms around her. 

“H-hey, what’s going on?” He stuttered, running a hand along the back of her head, stroking her hair-like quills back. After so many years of comforting one another, they had learned tricks to instantly make each other calm down. The stroking had a decent effect on her, but she still trembled in his arms as she tried to force out a coherent sentence.

“I-I didn’t m-mean-I didn’t kn-know they-following m-me…” She choked on the extra saliva in her mouth and sniffled, burying her face into Sonic’s warm chest until she could hear the steady beat of his heart. It calmed her to know that he was still here. He was safe. 

Sonic did his best to process what little he could understand that was coming out of her mouth. “Did someone follow you?” Y/n slowly nodded her head, more tears gushing down her cheeks as she pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry, S-Sonic-” She was cut off by another sob wracking up her pipes. Even if he wanted to, Sonic could never be mad at her. He held her tighter against his chest as he himself glanced through the window. His heart stopped in his chest as he saw something move.

“It’s okay, N/n, this is what we have the rings for, remember?” He glanced over at the bag sitting snugly under the covers on their bed. “Besides, this is your first time getting us caught out of my, what? Four times?” His joke was able to successfully get her to crack a smile, her tears beginning to slow down thankfully. They still kept a firm grip on one another as Sonic began to maneuver them towards the bed in order to get the rings. Once Sonic had finally grabbed the bag out from under the blankets, they let go of one another as he pulled out one of the shiny, golden rings. He held it up and thought of the next planet on their list and-

Suddenly, the door slammed open. 

Y/n’s scream was so shrill it could have shattered glass, the fear coursing through their veins. The figure standing before them was dressed entirely in black, a hood pulled over their face so that neither of them could tell who or what they were looking at. A horrible aura floated through the room.

Something was very wrong.

Sonic’s first instinct was to jump in front of Y/n and protect her, so that’s exactly what he did. Zipping in front of her in less than a second, he gently pushed the frightened hedgehog behind him and prepared to throw the ring again.

“Leave us alone!” He yelled, closing his eyes as he envisioned the next planet they needed to go to. Y/n’s hand slowly entertwined with his, refusing to let him go, when the form before them started to… laugh. It wasn’t one of those lighthearted laughs either, it was one in which you knew something bad was coming. The two hedgehogs inched closer together, their hearts pounding rapidly against their chests, noses twitching and bodies trembling as the adrenaline coursed through their veins. The sudden sound from the intruder had been exactly what they had needed in order to distract the two. 

Something sharp was pricked into the side of Sonic’s neck. He let out a sharp hiss and quickly pulled out a dart. “W-what?” He began, the room around him already growing fuzzy.

“Sonic!” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around his waist in an effort to keep him standing. The serum within it was very fast acting, as he crashed down onto the floor before her, groaning. She kneeled down before him, refusing to leave his side, and shook him rapidly, the tears now coming down her cheeks faster. She was more than able to protect herself, but she needed to know he was okay. “Please, stay with m-”

A dart sank its teeth into her neck. 

“N-no,” she stuttered, yanking the dart out of her neck and forcing herself to try and stay awake. Unfortunately, the poison coursing through her veins was stronger than her will. Her world went dark as she fell on top of Sonic, unconscious. 

♡♡♡

When Y/n finally came to, she couldn’t see anything. 

She couldn’t move either. It was almost as if something had taken away her ability to move from her brain, leaving her limbs lifeless against the cold surface she was lying down on, belly up. Her eyelids felt heavy, like a dozen quarters were resting on top of each eye in order to keep them closed. She was surprisingly calm given the certain situations, her pulse beating as steadily as it would if she were asleep. But she did feel rather drowsy… perhaps it was from whatever was in that dart…

Dart… where was Sonic?

The panic instantly began to rise, the need to open her eyes becoming almost unbearable to ignore. But she could still hear. 

“Alright,” she heard a voice murmur. Her mouth remained shut, unable to move that, either. The voice didn’t sound like anyone she had ever known, and she couldn’t tell if its owner was a boy or a girl. “End… his happiness…” The voice seemed to be fading in and out, like whoever it was was walking towards her and then walking away, presumably to another table of sorts. But ending whose happiness? “This serum will make him forget about her entirely. It’ll be like she never even existed.”

A slight tapping noise against something floated through the air, making Y/n’s frantic panicking come back full force. No.. No way… they weren’t talking about her and Sonic were they? They were going to make Sonic forget about her? But why? Why would they do that? Sonic was the only person she had! 

She couldn’t lose him!

Y/n tried with all her might to scream at the top of her lungs, to move her legs or even to just open her eyes but they were all futile. It was as though she were dead, her body as limp as a paperweight. Tears threatened to spill down her eyes as the feeling of helplessness suffocated her. The silence that continued on for countless moments made her want to die wondering what was going on. She could just picture it in her mind, her worst fear: Sonic being injected with some kind of serum to make him forget about her, and then being tossed into a portal to some realm that she didn’t know how to get to.

She’d never see him again.

Minutes turned into hours as they laid there in that torture, wanting nothing more than to feel Sonic’s arms wrap around her. To hear his voice, to feel his heart beat against her ears… She didn’t have a purpose without him. 

Footsteps suddenly sounded through the tense silence. Y/n’s body tensed, which brought a celebratory light on in her mind that she was actually able to move a little. The footsteps came closer to her and stopped right next to her head.

“Ah, Y/n the Hedgehog…” the voice chuckled darkly, sending shivers down her spine. “I’m going to make your life miserable.” 

Venom seethed from their tone, and without any warning, four needles dug themselves into her arms and legs. They pierced into the flesh so furiously that she screamed in pain, not even the sedatives she had been under being able to stop the primal instinct to such torture. Whatever liquid it was raced through her veins, spreading the white hot pain like wildfire. It felt like something was forcing her limbs to stretch and become much longer and larger than they were meant to be. Like growing pains, but set on fire. With gasoline. The pain seemed to go on for hours until the world turned dark once more. She finally released her breath in the blackness, relieved that the pain was finally over. A sudden bright light pierced through the darkness, and in her haze, she reached towards it. Blinking her eyes in order to adjust to the brightness, trees filled her vision.

“Honey? Sweetie, can you hear me?” A woman with yellow hair tied up in a bun was leaning over her, a worried look across her face. Her form twitched in and out of Y/n’s vision as she tried to focus on her.

“H-huh?” Was she standing up or sitting down? What was that smell? Who was this lady? Where was she? Wait a minute… What was her name?

“Sweetie, can you tell me your name?”

“I think… I think it’s Y/n?” 

“Okay, we’re going to get you to a hospital.”

Hospital? What was a hospital? 

...Who am I? 

♡♡♡

It was a slow day for Doctor Robotnik. He had been considering going back to college for about a trillionth time in order to gain yet another degree in something that he hadn’t already accomplished. Which was nothing. Do they even give you degrees for studying nothing?

He was resting in his home when one of his bots hovered over to him, dropping down his mail onto the coffee table before him. The main glanced down at the junk mail littering the table, but stopped at a very peculiar looking package. It was about the size of a small throw pillow he had once seen in JoAnns (no comment on why he was there), and there was a small letter taped to the top. He cautiously proceeded to swipe the letter off and opened it. The contents were even more peculiar.

Dear Dr. Robotnik,

Inside this box are two vials for two beings. You must make sure that they never remember or find them. If they consume their contents, the whole plot will be lost. 

It wasn’t signed. He furrowed his brows, wondering if one of his stalkers had sent him more men’s lingerie again. The letters tended to be very misleading. But, throwing caution to the wind, he opened the box and lifted the lid, staring down at the contents. There were two vials, just like the note had said. One was an ice blue with the title Y/n on it. The other was a dehydrated yellow, with the name Sonic written across the label. Y/n and Sonic… seemed pretty normal compared to other things he had witnessed.

And then the blue one started to sing.

♡ a.a.

#sonic #sonic x reader #sonic imagines #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog imagines #sonic the hedgehog movie #sonic the hedgehog movie x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie imagines #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie 2020 imagines #sonic the hedgehog 2020 x reader #sonic 2020 x reader #flawsome bandits

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Beauty Within the Fallen ch.I

Summary: Two misfit twins come across an enchanted castle, home of a mysterious beast, and slowly begin to form a strong bond that just might survive through anything. Even evil demons.

AU and artwork belong to the beautiful and very talented @artsycrapfromsai​. Go give her some love, guys!!!

ch. II

~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, deep within the woods of France, a wealthy man lived in a shining castle. While this man had all one could dream of - money, fame, a beautiful and intelligent wife, and three sons who were handsome in all aspects - the cup this man had chosen to fill had no bottom; it was never enough for him. Behind a mask of silver and gold, the family suffered. The eldest son, a humble man, broke away from the rich family and found love in a small, poor town. The mother, while heartbroken, was happy for her son and wished him nothing but joy, but the father disowned him and forbade any further contact.

With the heir and eldest gone, more pressure fell on the man’s twin sons than ever before. Already far too used to shouldering impossible demands and harboring guilt and responsibility, the eldest twin looked elsewhere for comfort, since it had been proven that family was not the place to go to. His brother, younger by fifteen minutes, was worried for him and acted as he felt was best. One day he confronted the problem and tried to aid the older twin. Together, as a family, they had won the battle, but they would lose the war. A furious demon soon haunted their home, cackling and proclaiming that if one loved his precious journal so much why does he not become one. The younger twin tried to fight back, to once again remain victorious and to right the wrong he had started, but the demon, who sees all and knows all, could not be fought or conned; he knew what this man was and how he saw himself, so he decided to pair the human with his twin and he turned into what he saw himself as. The younger twin was transformed into a hideous monster, and all the servants of the castle were cursed, as well. All who had loved these people, all outside the castle’s walls, were freed of their memories of them, leaving the servants and the brothers forgotten. Confident that the younger brother would never accomplish such a task, the demon had it be known that only if he could find someone to love him the curse would be lifted. They did not have all the time in the world, however; since the older twin was the first to deal with the demon, the journal would slowly lose pages as time went on. When the last page of the journal leaves the cover, the curse would remain forever and the elder twin would be nothing more than an empty shell and the younger twin would remain a beast for all time. Years passed. The brothers lost all hope, coming to face the reality that all they had left in the entire world was each other. For who could ever care for such monsters? ~~~~~~~~~~ Sandwiched in the quiet village, made of stone and bricks and hard work, sat an odd house. Odd for it’s tiny porch full of flowers and herbs. Odd for it’s pig snoozing on the top of the small set of stairs leading to the garden. Odd for it’s residence and their interests, but it was home. Boots clicked against the wood as the little girl skipped out the door and picked up her pig and hugged him, leaving a laundry basket on the floor. Her brother slapped on his blue cap and made sure his matching vest was on well. His sister followed him down the steps with the big basket and the pig followed them down the street of the little town. “Bonjour!” “Bonjour!” “Bonjour, Monsieur!” “Oui, oui, Madame! Mon plaisir!” Mabel, in her peasant girl’s dress with a pink jacket and cloth for a headband, grinned and waved at an old lady across the slow street. “Bonjour, Susan!” Lazy Susan paused her job, walking into the shop with fresh cookies, and held the tray out to the twins. “Good morning, little pinetrees! Where are you off to?” “The library.” Dipper shared while his sister munched on a cookie. He gave Lazy Susan some money and took some bread from a tray on the window. “We just finished one about a knight and a swamp and a princess.” “It was wonderful!” Mabel cheered, her cheeks full of delicious cookie. “I preferred Shakespeare.” “Well, would you like a cookie, too, Dipper?” Lazy Susan asked, knowing the boy all too well to know he would only take one when directly offered. Dipper smiled, took a cookie, and he and Mabel said “merci” before heading on their way. “Bonjour. How is your family?” Tad Strange asked the red-haired lumberjack. “Bonjour! How is your wife?” A creepy old lady asked Mr. Gleeful. “Attrape les! Attrape les!” Tyler cheered Manly Dan on as he lifted some heavy logs. “There, Dipper!” Mabel said, tugging on his vest, and the kids ran for the little library in the midst of the chaos. The library was only one room with only one wall filled with books. With Dipper being an advanced reader and Mabel as an advent storyteller, the two made their evenings entertaining with stories taking them far away. “Good morning!” The curly-haired man said behind the counter with his wife by his side. “Happy day!” “Bonjour, Madame et Monsieur Valentino.” Dipper greeted politely. Mabel rushed to one book and held it out to her twin brother. “Let’s borrow this one!” “We’ve read it three times already.” Dipper said with a roll of his eyes and a small smile. He pulled out the book they were returning from his vest and put it back on the shelf. “But it’s my favorite!” Mabel climbed up the ladder and pretended to sword fight an enemy. “New places! Daring fight! Spells and magic! Great character development!” Dipper chuckled and hushed Mabel, taking the book. “Okay, okay. We’ll read it again, but then I want to pick up Hamlet again.” “Deal!” Mabel cheered and hopped down. While Mabel was at the counter with Mr. and Mrs. Valentino, Dipper was elbowed harsly by a black-haired teenager with bad acne. “What are you doing back here, chief?” Dipper glared at him. “What does it look like I’m doing, actually using my brain.” “Oh yeah,” Robbie snarled and leaned down, his big nose almost touching the boy. “How’s that going for you, twerp?” “Dipper, c’mon!” Mabel called, the laundry basket in her arms by the door. “Let’s go!” “Coming!” Dipper ran after her, but he tripped over Robbie’s foot and fell on his face, but he quickly got up and followed his sister. The kids raced around with their pet pig, Waddles, at their heels, and laughed at each other’s company. They made their way to the Washing Well and began to do the laundry. Beforehand, they had invented a new way of doing laundry; once again, Dipper and Mabel made the perfect team, with the girl’s imagination and the boy’s intelligence harmoniously coexisting to create new inventions and ideas. Borrowing some rope and having Waddles help them, they used gears from Dipper’s vest to hook up the pig to the barrel with rope and they used gears so the barrel would turn with the special sticks inside, mixing the soap with the clothes and saving energy and work. Mabel used oats to make a circle around the well for waddles to follow, and then the twins watched proudly as their washing machine seemed to be working. “We did it!” Mabel cheered and high-fived her twin brother. Dipper then punched her shoulder lightly and said, “I told you it would work! Maybe next time we should borrow Gompers, though. Waddles is kind of slow.” “What?” Mabel dragged and laughed. “No way, Waddles is perfect! You’ll see, those clothes will be cleaner than the Northwests!” Dipper smiled as he opened the book and laid it on the stone wall, using it as a desk as he and his sister watched the washing. “Okay, okay, we should keep working on your reading. You’re getting better. Why not try to read the introduction?” Mabel smiled, a little shy when it comes to being a better reader, but she loved stories and she wanted to prove that she was smart, too, so she nodded and began to read outloud. She hoped her fond memory of the book would make it easier, guessing the words, but that proved to be false. Still, Dipper and patient and a good teacher and slowly Mabel finished the first chapter all on her own. “That was great!” Dipper congratulated and Mabel’s cheeks turned rosy. “What are you two doing?” The twins looked ahead to find Blubs and Durland staring at them, looking both shocked and unapproving. Mabel’s cheeks turned a darker red, but she tried to smile and be friendly. “Bonjour, mes capitaines!” Mabel greeted warmly. “Having a good day?” “We were, until we saw the commotion you two are up to.” Blubs said. “What’s a girl doing reading? And what on Earth is all this? Another invention?” Mabel grinned, choosing to ignore his first comment. “Yeah! Isn’t it great? Think of all the work this’ll get done!” “Mabel,” Dipper whispered warningly. “You’re usin’ up the whole well!” Durland scolded. “And no pigs inside the well!” “That’s not a rule.” “You questioning our authority, boy?” Blubs growled. “I’m questioning your objectivity.” “I dunno what that means, but I don’t like it.” Durland sneered and the two policemen pulled the barrel out of the well and bumped the soapy laundry on the dirt. “You two take your freaky readin’ somewhere else!” Dipper and Mabel hurried to pick up their clothes. Waddles waddled to them and rubbed his head on Dipper, who hugged him for comfort before continuing to clean up the mess. The twins turned for home and simultaneously groaned; hurrying to them with white hair and pale skin was the ten-year-old, Gideon Gleeful. He grinned at the sight of them and hopped on over in his baby-blue junior army uniform. He bowed a little and said, “Why, Mabel! You look absolutely radiant today!” “Thanks.” She mumbled. “Here, lemme help y’all.” Gideon said and picked up some stray laundry. “I think your invention was really neat.” Dipper raised an eyebrow at him. “You do?” “Oh, sure!” Gideon said. “Laundry’s sucha pain, but y’all made it bearable! Great job!” “Gee thanks, Gideon.” Mabel said sincerely with a smile and took the laundry from his arms. “You know,” Gideon said slyly and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “If you wanna read to me or show me some more inventions, I’m not busy tonight.” Mabel’s smile went away, suddenly very uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, not tonight.” “Oh. Already got plans?” “No.” Dipper grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go back home. Fiddleford will need our help soon.” Gideon and the policemen watched them go away. A big muscular man with no pupils emerged from a shop and said, “I’m sorry that girl isn’t into you, Lil’ Gideon.” “She loves me!” Gideon insisted. “She just doesn’t know it yet.” “What makes you wanna date the Pines girl, anyway?” Blubs asked. “She’s the prettiest!” Gideon explained. “And the nicest! That makes her the best! If I’m gonna be the best I need the best as my queen!” “Yeah,” Durland said. “But she and her brother are nothing like the rest of us.” Gideon didn’t care, and hurried to catch up to his friends. Or at least former-friends. He shoved his way past busy peasants and called out to the twins. Dipper kept on muttering “Ignorer, ignorer, ignorer!” to himself and his sister. Ever since Gideon’s little crush got out of hand and he joined the military, he had been pestering Mabel to be with him and Dipper to join the army. What used to be annoying was now toxic and they were taught not to meddle with that. Mabel, Dipper, and Waddles made it into their house just before Gideon could catch up, leaving him to switch his eye and say to himself, “Sure… kiss those other frogs, Mabel Pines… this prince can wait…” The twins sighed with relief inside their childhood home. Dipper locked the door and Mabel hugged Waddles. They were both still as they heard music and they smiled and followed it. In the main room, what was supposed to be a living room but was mostly a study and work room, an old man with a long beard and nose sat at a desk, working on a music box. The machine was small and plain on the outside, but on the inside it was many beautiful colors and had pretty iron gears. Fiddleford glanced up from his work and smiled at the children. “Y’all back. How was it in town today?” “It was okay.” Mabel said and sat next to him. “Mabel sweetie, will ya hand me… thank ya.” Fiddleford chuckled as Mabel had the piece in her hand already, smart enough to know just what he needed. “What made it only okay?” “Gideon.” Dipper said and sat on Fiddleford’s other side. “Oh. My boy, will ya hand me… no, no, not… actually…” Fiddleford smiled with pride for the boy to have known of the correct piece before he did. Both of the children were bright in their own right, as he always said. “Well, m’sorry that boy won’t quit botherin’ y’all. Shall I talk with his parents?” Mabel sighed and rested her cheek on her fist. “Nah, I just wish things could go back to the way they were before. You know, friends.” Dipper was off in his own little world. Mabel might have been oblivious to it all, but Dipper was not. Between all the polite greetings, the people had hissed rumors and comments about the Pines twins. Poor orphaned children who were stuck with their grandfather’s best friend ever since the plague. Maybe if they only had proper parents to raise them they would be so odd, like a boy with no interest in fighting and a girl who loves to read. Mabel was always told she wasn’t smart enough to read and Dipper was always told he wasn’t strong enough and should fix it. It became suffocating at times. “Fiddleford,” He said out of the blue. “Are we odd?” Fiddleford blinked rapidly and readjusted his glasses. “Odd? My kids? Odd? Never. What got that into your head?” Dipper shrugged. “People talk.” Mabel sighed, sorry for her brother. “It’s all my fault.” “What?” The boys gasped. “If only I wasn’t so… different.” Mabel picked up a bigger music box Fiddleford had built but had not yet decorated. She saw her reflection, the reflection of a girl with fat cheeks and not-perfect teeth, someone every other boy but creeps had rejected. “Ya ain’t different.” Fiddleford said firmly. “You’re special. Wanna know why?” “Cuz we’re made of stars?” Mabel guessed, eyeing her twin. Dipper smiled and took off his hat and pushed his hair back, showing off his birthmark. Fiddleford told them ever since they were little that they were made out of the same stuff as stars, both full of light and goodness. The old man smiled and gently combed Dipper’s brown hair. “That’s right, Sweet Tea. Ya remember me tellin’ ya that I was there when y’all were born?” The children nodded. “You said Grandpa Shermie woke you up in the middle of the night, but you didn’t care.” Dipper said. “You wanted to see us.” “I was born first and punched the doctor in the jaw!” Mabel declared victoriously. “That’s right, sweetie, ya were.” Fiddleford laughed and went on with his story. “Ya were so new but your eyes already shined so bright. Dipper came next, but his skin was blue n’ he was sick. Thank the Lord we knew he’d be okay soon, n’ your grandpa saw your birthmark n’ grinned n’ said, ‘Hah! That’s my weirdos! Nothing can take ‘em down!’” Dipper and Mabel smiled over fond memories of their grandfather. Their parents had died when they were babies and that was when Fiddleford moved in permanently to help take care of the kids. Grandpa Shermie died four years ago, and it still hurt a little, but now they could all remember him with smiles on their faces. “It’s a good thang y’all are weird. Ain’t nothin’ better than bein’ different.” Fiddleford assured them. “I know it’s been hard - small town leads to small minds, ya know - but hurtin’ makes ya kind n’ strong, n’ there’s no doubt in my mind that y’all are gonna do big thangs one day n’ make ‘em all feel like fools.” Dipper and Mabel smiled, but their eyes seemed unsure. Fiddleford closed the little music box and pushed his chair back. “I think that’s enough work for now.” He leaned back and grabbed the banjo that was leaning against the wall. “What should we sing first?” Mabel grinned; growing up, their lives had been full of music. Fiddleford sang to them since they were babies and taught them how to dance and sing. Dipper smiled and let Mabel and Fiddleford create good background music while he read the book from the library. “Take a little journey, Let’s go to the unknown. Let’s come back changed, We’ll feel it in our bones. It may be scary, It may be hard, But I’ll go as long as I have you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note: I tried to put in a lot of different Disney references in this story, outside of GF and BatB; if I could draw I would have totally put some Mickey Mouse ears in the background or something.

One thing that was interesting to write about was Dipper and Mabel’s backstory and Fiddleford’s friendship with their grandfather. Honestly, Shermie doesn’t get enough attention, in canon or in the fandom, so it’s always fun to include him when I can. Sorry I had to be a jerk and kill him off.

In case anyone is wondering, the song the family sings at the end of the chapter is based off of “Find Me in the Woods”, basically the perfect song for Gravity Falls (and Over the Garden Wall).

One last thing; primarily this crossover is based off of the animated BatB movie, but I did pull some ideas from the 2017 live-action movie. My opinion of the live-action movie is a tad bias, I’ll admit it (the casting of Emma Watson sold me instantly), but while it’s certainly not better than the animated movie, there are some elements I love, like the piano and the wardrobe’s love story, Lefou’s character development and Josh’s performance, the mob scene I felt was better executed, and I like this version of Maurese better. Expect SOME elements of the live-action in here, like Dipper and Mabel being inventors and their washing machine, but note that it’s mainly based off of the original animated movie.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

#GF #gravity falls #batb au #mabel pines #dipper pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gideon gleeful #beauty within the fallen #fanfiction #feel free to tell me what you guys think #sai

[love-takes-work]

The Tale of Steven - Outline & Review

The Tale of Steven is a wonderful, timeless-feeling storybook about identity, authority, and finding your own way. It's got an innovative design that requires the reader to turn the book upside-down, sideways, and right-side-up to get the whole story, sometimes all on the same spread of art and text, and as we come to find out ultimately, this "tale of Steven" really is STEVEN'S story.

We begin with White Diamond, matriarch of the Gem homeworld, setting the stage--and not only does she frame the other Diamonds uncharitably (especially the littlest Diamond, Pink), she even sets the tone by admonishing THE READER straight away, scolding us to turn the book her way to read her words. (We must turn the book upside-down to read her perspective. Very nice.)

As we listen to White Diamond tell us how ridiculous Pink Diamond is and frame her as "impossible to understand," we also see exactly why Pink felt driven to leave her home. White apparently appointed herself the authority on keeping Pink in her place, and we're treated to White's huge pale hands holding little Pink Diamond in her tiny pink throne, “right”-side-up. White's perspective is proper, and she is to be praised, you see, for understanding that Pink's desires and attributes are not worthwhile and need to be forced out of her. Pink is shown as having run away to Earth and reinventing herself as a new Gem: Rose Quartz. Suddenly, we are able to turn the book sideways and see what she's thinking too. (White does NOT approve.)

The Earth, where Rose Quartz is allowed to love herself and love her surroundings, is simultaneously called "grotesque" by White, and we're seeing the same planet through two sets of eyes. White sees Rose as "stubborn" and "absurd," while Rose just gives us an aside about not listening to White if we don't want to and giving us a choice to read the book her way. As Rose continues to depict rainbows and falling in love with a human--Greg Universe--White is getting angrier. She shrieks, "You're ruining my story!" Rose, rightly, replies, "This isn't your story."

Soon, Rose has bequeathed her Gem--the center of her being--to her half-human son, Steven, with the consequence of ceasing to be herself. Baby Steven appears with his father and Rose Quartz's three companions--Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl. White Diamond finally abandons trying to narrate this story, escaping with a vindictive comment and an attempt to frame Rose as simply Pink Diamond hiding "inside an unwitting creature." Rose's perspective expresses that she wanted her son to experience the love and acceptance she never received. And then, Steven's perspective pops onto the scene. We can now turn the book fully right-side-up to read his tale.

As the story slides fully into Steven's perspective, Rose's hopes for him still line up on the sides of the pages, longing for him to experience kindness, to never know the awfulness she went through on Homeworld, to never have to feel the criticism issued by the other Diamonds, and to be able to tell his own story one day. Steven reflects on Rose's influence on his life, how he's heard about her and the more truth he's discovered the more everything frightens him. There are many perspectives, he recognizes. Perhaps there is more than one way to read the story.

White's perspective, upside-down now, returns alongside all this. She suggests "Pink" has come crawling back to turn the world the "right" way again, and she's puzzled by Steven's appearance, but she's determined to rescue Pink from herself by separating Steven from his Gem. Meanwhile, Steven's been wondering what his relationship is to Pink and Rose--is she inside him? Is he actually her? What's real?

But they all learn the truth when Steven's Gem reveals that he was also Steven inside there. All along, he was himself and no one else. This is, and has always been, his story, and he has been right about who he is.

Several wordless frames depict Steven's two aspects finding each other, reconnecting, and becoming one again. Newly confident in who he is and having asserted as much in the face of crushing authority, Steven declares, "This way feels right to me." The orientation of the book AND the definition of himself are the focus here, and for the first time, White begins to consider that her perspective was the wrong side up in someone else's story.

Steven closes by claiming the book as his own (writing his own name in the "This Book Belongs To" space, which is superimposed over a Diamond Authority symbol with the Pink Diamond on top instead of on the bottom). The end dedication is made out "To Trans & Gender-Expansive Kids."

To reflect on this sentiment and the rest of the book, I will say that a large portion of the Steven Universe fandom already recognized some threads of a trans allegory in the animation this is based on. Steven, though he is not specifically depicted as a confirmed trans character in the show, does not demonstrate or seem to experience toxic masculinity in association with his quest to be powerful, and has no qualms about using symbolism, iconography, and apparel that is more commonly associated in today's Western society with women and girls (e.g., the color pink, flower symbolism, protective and defensive rather than aggressive and offensive behaviors, wearing jewelry and dresses occasionally without it being a gag). His assertion that he is Steven and not Pink Diamond or Rose Quartz has many parallels with a common trans narrative--including pronouns that the Diamonds refused to respect--even though it is also its own thing since human beings do not have to defend that they are not literally their mother. 

They do, however, frequently struggle with authorities in their lives "correcting" them on who and what they are "for their own good," brushing off the seriousness of the misery it causes, and these children do find themselves forced to wear clothes, use names, and adhere to roles that do not match who they are. They even sometimes hear authorities mourn the "loss" of a different-gender version of them and accuse the child of being selfish for wanting to manifest their truth instead of being the son or daughter the parent thought they had.

It is my deepest hope that authorities like this can learn to turn the book around.

It is so important for children to learn that they ARE the authority on their identity, and while some well-meaning authorities in their lives may frame their identity as a phase or a fake, they do not have to accept this view of the world, or even that it comes from a loving place. White Diamond did not sound like a stern but caring figure to me. She sounded like a tyrant who is convinced of her own correctness, determined to gaslight and shame Pink Diamond into becoming the person SHE wanted. Love is listening. Love is nurturing. Love is seeing pleasure and pain and letting those things guide you in supporting a happy existence. Kids whose gender is complicated and young people who develop misunderstood identities need books like this to center them in their own stories and empower them to show others how to read their book.

Except for the section of the book where Steven's organic self and Gem self are separated and re-combine, the message is solid for readers who have not watched the show. But because of how important that wordless series of panels is and how much background you actually have to have to understand what's happening there, I recommend this book primarily for fans of the show who have seen "Change Your Mind" and the episodes that support it. The other depictions are more powerful and illuminating for those who have context from the show also, but the main purpose of the book can be readily understood without that background. 

If you haven't seen the show, all you need to know is that Steven is a hybrid Gem/human who has a gemstone in his human body, and it gives him superhuman powers. Gem characters generate a body from their Gem, while Steven's body is organic and presumably NOT generated from the Gem. White Diamond removed Steven's Gem from his belly, expecting Pink Diamond to take form out of the Gem. She thought his organic half was just a human that the Gem was stuck in. But instead, a Pink Steven emerged and went back to his organic self to merge again, proving that he is Steven, not someone else, through and through. And he truly loves and knows himself.

A couple other notes fans of the show might enjoy: White Diamond's hypothesis that Pink Diamond was "hiding in an unwitting creature" is really interesting--she knew what Steven was but believed he was just a normal human hosting a Gem. Interesting. White's disdain toward Yellow and Blue for "spoiling" Pink is an interesting addition to what we know about her, too. Pink is pictured standing on her hands on her throne, upside-down, which is interesting since it's both "silly" and an expression of her right-side-up perspective (since, when we obey White, we're reading the book upside-down!). White's commentary that she kept Pink in line is also interesting, considering we've seen way more of how Yellow and Blue treated her and none of that was very nice either (yet they're the "nice" ones in this story, indulging her even though we know they abused her). There's a really cute image of Rose lounging on the beach with Greg in what looks like a swimsuit. Connie is in a frame with the Gems looking through a telescope. And there's a frame with Garnet holding pink and blue butterflies.

Inventive, beautiful, moving, and so necessary. Buy a copy. Let kids turn the book around.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #the tale of steven #long post #trans stories #su analysis #myblog

[chickensarentcheap]

I Found (Chapter 12)

Warnings: there is smut in this. Pure filth. Because that’s what the muse wanted.

tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @alievans007 @hemmyworthy

Four hours later Esme finds herself in the kitchen. Barefoot in denim shorts and simple white t-shirt, up to her elbows in soap and water as she scrubs the dinner dishes. Tyler works alongside of her; unusually quiet (even for him) as he dries the items waiting in the drainboard. It is these moments of normalcy that they have learned not to take for granted. That easy, smooth way that they work side by side even during the most mundane of tasks. They have never had to resort to mindless chit chat; their silences had always been comfortable, never awkward. Meshing right off the hop. Easily able to read each other's cues, recognize one another’s body language, allow their eyes and their facial expressions to do the communicating if need be. In the five days they'd worked side by side, they'd become very much in tune with one another.  Their very different skill sets playing off each other well.

And there had been the other aspect as well. Giving in to that sexual tension and suffocating need for physical contact. To feel alive again. To be reminded that they were worthy. That they were broken, but still good.

A year ago they were in entirely different places; he in that rundown shack of a house in the outback as she floated from motel to motel, working her way through North America. Spending an extended amount of time in New York City,  subletting a quaint little studio apartment in lower Manhattan.

A week before they'd met she'd started packing up her things and putting them into storage. Nik had tracked her down through G and offered her a job. She'd have her choice on where she wanted to settle down. The Big Apple wasn't on that list. Her plan had been to repeat the nomad lifestyle of living out of suitcases and ending up wherever life and the job took her. She'd been doing it since leaving the corps and it had become second nature to her. As if it were normal and everyone did it.

I have a job for you, she can hear Nik's voice as clear as day. I need some intel work done. An inside person. A drug dealer in Dhaka has kidnapped another dealer's kid. Information is slow coming. I need you to go there and get your pulse on things. Make friends with the locals. Get them to trust you. Word has it he's being held in or around the market area. But there's a catch. And I need you to trust me when I say I know it sounds crazy but I know it's going to work.

The next day she was on a helicopter heading for Australia. Out into the middle of nowhere to meet 'the catch'.

Only Nik hadn't told her 'the catch' was as insanely attractive as he was. Or as haunted and broken. He was an immensely private person; tortured by the bad decisions and the demons of his past. And she'd been intrigued by him. By the mystery that surrounded him. By the walls that he'd built up around himself. He was an enigma. A challenge. And she had found herself captivated by those brilliant blue eyes, that sad smile, and that voice. Low and steady, his accent dripping off every syllable. Physically he was a tall, cool drink of water on a hot summer day. Pleasing. Refreshing. But it was the way in which he carried himself that had drawn her in. Confident. Not cocky.  A man that lived on the edge and showed no fear.

A death wish, Nik had told her on the way home.  It's why he takes the jobs he does. It's not really the money. It's the hope that one day, the job is going to take him out. That it will make it all end.

A month later she was out of the job. Just as abruptly as she had gotten into it. Back in Australia and in charge of handing over possession of that shack in outback to one of Tyler's friends while he himself teetered between life and death in that hospital.  She'd found herself wandering down a new and often terrifying path. Starting an entirely new existence with the help of Nik and the surviving members of the tea.  A new life in a new country in a small two bedroom bedroom apartment. Spending the majority of her waking hours -a lot of her sleeping ones- at his bedside.

Four weeks after that she started feeling sick. Rundown. Taking the nausea, the headaches, the fatigue, and even her missed cycles, as signs of stress.

Until two little pink lies had told her otherwise.

She had bought the test on a sheer whim. A lineup in the hospital pharmacy bringing her directly into the aisle where they were store. She'd grabbed one, and hadn't even given it a second thought until later that evening and she'd gone into shopping back for something she'd needed.  And she can vividly remember sitting there on that cold porcelain toilet in the washroom connected to his private room. Barely thinking about that test that now lay on the sink ledge. There were too many other things to think about it. She couldn't remember when she had her last meal. Her last shower. Her family was leaving her strings of endless text messages and emails demanding to know where she was. Who she was with. Was she okay? It was too much. All too much. There was already an overwhelming heap of sadness and worry on her plate. Why would whatever higher power (if there was one) just add something else.

And then there it was. Her new reality staring her in the face. Things were already serious enough, and now there was a whole other layer being added. There was a life growing inside of her. During all that craziness in Dhaka....within those four dirty motel walls...she had had a hand in creating another human being.

She can even remember his face when she'd told him. The lucid moments were more frequent by then.  The amount of pain medication being pumped into him had let up and he was conscious more often than not. Still struggling with remembering all of the details of what happened. Things were hazy; he wasn't sure if he was recalling things that actually happened or if it was what he had wanted to happen so his brain was manifesting them as actual memories.  He  could vividly recall everything up to the moment that he'd been shot in the neck. He could even remember the sensation of choking on his own blood and feel it seep between his fingers. He was fairly certain he'd made it to the sidewalk along the bridge.  But after that...nothing. Nothing concrete and clear anyway.  

He still hadn't had a lot of strength. He grew tired and weak easily. But he would smile. Even laugh. He'd even bitch at her when she'd attempt to trim his beard and keep it under control.  And he'd wrap her in his arms and pull her down onto the bed with him and he'd hold her. They wouldn't talk.  She'd just lie there in his embrace as he played with her hair. Her head on his chest, listening to his heart.

Some days, they'd go for walks. He'd refuse to use a wheelchair, even on the days where he felt the most pain and the most weakness following his knee surgery. He hated feeling helpless. Weak. And she'd always try to ensure him that he wasn't any of those things. What he was, was alive. Recovering. And that's what mattered the most.  

It had been on one of those walks that she'd told him about the baby. Sitting on a bench when he needed a break and a chance to rest the knee.  And the sun had been high in the sky and the breeze had been crisp and fresh and the sounds and sights of live continued around them as she dropped probably the second biggest bombshell of his life on him.  It was the first time a silence between them had been agonizing. And she'd been screaming internally at him. To say something. Anything. To tell her that this wasn't the worst thing that could happen.  That this wasn't the end of the world. That this was just another thing that they'd get through together.

He had just stared at her. Shell shocked. Things had happened quick between them. They hadn't had time to catch their breath. And they hadn't wanted to fight it.  

“You're sure?” he'd finally asked, and it wasn't until he spoke that she became aware that she was crying. She usually kept tears to herself. She didn't like him seeing her in that kind of state. She had to be the stoic and solid one now, after all.

She told him about how she'd been feeling. The nausea. The migraines. The inability to sleep. The missed periods. She should have started just after the events in Dhaka. But it had never arrived and she'd just assumed that her body was in shock over everything that had went down.

Then he'd said the single most hurtful thing she'd ever had anyone say to her in her entire life. She'd tried to remind herself that this was all happening so fast. Too much, too soon. What did they really know about each other outside of the walls of that crappy motel? They'd jumped head first into...something. It couldn't really be called a relationship, yet casual sex didn't seem serious enough.  They were falling in love with one another. But they weren't in love. Not yet.

“Is it mine?”

She had wanted to slap him. She'd wanted to wrap her hands around his throat and strangle him. But she didn't blame him for asking. She understood his trepidation. If she'd fall into bed with him that easily, what's to say it wasn't a reoccurring behaviour for her?

When they'd been holed up in the motel she'd told him about her failed marriage. About her ex husband and his issues and the torment and torture he'd brought into her life. And on that bench she told him that she hadn't been with anyone besides him in over a year.  That sex had never been an overwhelming need.

Until she met him.

“You don't have to stick around,” she'd told him. “I don't expect that from you. If this isn't what you want...if I'm not what you want...you just have to say it, Tyler. I won't hate you. I'll walk away and I'll never bother you again. You don't have to be a part of this.”

Those normally brilliant blue eyes had immediately clouded over. His mouth setting into a grim line.

“Is that really what you think of me? You think that little of me? That I'd do something like that? That I'd just let you walk away?”

“You already have a lot on your plate. You're healing. It's going to take a long time. And you don't need me being in your way. You don't need me hindering you.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” his eyes had narrowed, his voice low. Almost menacing. “Is that really what you think? You think I don't want you here? You think I look at you like some kind of obstacle in my way? The only reason I'm doing this...the only reason I held on and I keep hanging on...is because of you. For you.”

That had made her cry even harder. And her face had dropped into his chest; his fingers burying in her hair as he held her to him.

“I love you,” he'd said. It was the first time he had let those words come out. He'd later confess that he'd been feeling them since the beginning. Maybe not love itself. But the realization that he was falling in love.  “I love you and everything is going to be okay. We're going to be okay.”

She'd cried into his chest. Telling him that she loved him. That she hadn't meant to fall in love with him. Maybe it shouldn't have happened. Dhaka hadn't been the ideal place to meet the love of your life.  But it had. And she didn't regret that.

For a long time, neither of them had spoke. They'd just sat on that bench as she clung to him and he consoled her. And then he'd gently yanked on her hair in an effort to get her to look up at him.  Those blue eyes had been sparkling again. There was a smile...a genuine smile...curving his lips.

“We're having a baby,” he'd said. “I'm going to be a dad.”

They have never taken things slow. It simply wasn't in their nature. After that first night in Dhaka, they never looked back.  They'd given into lust. The promise of something new. Empowered by the realization that someone wanted them. Needed them. That maybe...just maybe...their two broken halves could make a slightly dented whole.

****

“How'd it go today?” he asks now, as he stands behind her and reaches over her to place dishes on the higher shelf. “Your little girls day.”

“Good. It was fine. It was nice to forget about everything else for a while.”

When she'd gotten home, she'd run that photograph of Farhad through the paper shredder. Covering her tracks. Something she'd become good at thanks to the job. But the rule of thumb was that no matter how smart and cunning you thought you were, there was always someone smarter and far more cunning.

And that person is Tyler Rake.

She watches the way his hands move as he does something so simple as drying cutlery. They're big. Powerful. Calloused palms, long, thick fingers, scarred and swollen knuckles, and wide wrists that lead into muscular forearms.  And she notices...obviously not the first time...just how attractive he actually is. Those eyes. That mouth. The way his hair falls over his right eye. The scars and the tattoos. All mixing together to create on hell of a man.

“You're staring at me,” he says, snapping out of her reverie. A grin playing on his  lips.  “That's creepy. Stop being a creeper.”

“Dick head,” she retorts, and flicks soap and water at him.

He's mocking her. Playfully, of course. Using the exact words she'd tossed at him during their first massive blow up in Dhaka at year ago. When she'd disappeared from his sight in the market after he'd distinctly told her not to leave his side.

“I told you to stay right next to me,” he'd roared. “I told you not to wander off on your own. That I wanted to be able to see you. At all times. That I wanted to be able to feel you beside me. To even smell your hair if it comes down to it.”

“Is that what you've been doing while I'll sleep?” she'd shot back. “Smelling my hair? That's creepy. Don't be a fucking creeper, Rake.”

She'd meant it as a joke. To break the tension. But it had only made things worse. And the floodgates opened and all the pent up rage just came exploding out of them. His hand wrapping around her neck and his fingers digging into her throat, his eyes menacing as he backed her up against a wall.

“Do you think this a fucking game? Does it look like I'm fucking joking?”

The fight had been intense. His anger raw. And he'd been powerless to contain it.  Or what happened when it had transformed into something so much more.  Greedy hands pulling at each other's clothes. Hungry, needy kisses. His hands biting and bruising as he took her right there and then up against that wall.

****

She clears her throat noisily and fights the urge to splash cold water on her face. Her hormones have been out of control. Especially within the last week. He's always had a powerful effect on her. It took for very little effort on his behalf to rile her up. But this level of intensity...this level of need...was something she'd never experienced before.

“Admiring,” she corrects. “Not staring. I was admiring. In case you haven't noticed, you're pretty easy to look at.”

“Yeah?” he steps behind her once again, an arm circling her waist. Palm against her stomach, drawing her tight against him. He drops his head, his hair and the tip of his nose brushing against the nape of her neck. And he feels her shiver against him when he presses his groin against her ass.

He can't help but smirk.

So easy. It's always been so easy.

“You're not too hard to look at yourself,” he says, his breath hot against the back of her neck.  He's feeling it too. It's always been intense between them. The sex incredible. But since the decision to return to Dhaka, the desire and the longing and the desperate need had only increased. He couldn't get enough. Didn't want to ever get used to getting enough. Afraid that at this time next week, one of them may not even exist anymore.

He swallows heavily and closes his eyes. Desperately trying to rid himself of those thoughts. They'd come this far.  They'd gotten through some serious shit. There was nothing that could possibly come between them now.  He nuzzles his face in her hair; inhaling the sweet of the sweet, fruit scented shampoo she favours. Committing that smell to memory.

Just in case.

His mouth is  soft and warm against the back of her neck. Feathery kisses that make her shiver and her pulse quicken.  And his hand slides from her stomach to her stomach; both palms gliding over the cheeks of her ass before bringing one of his hands down in a ringing, stinging slap. A smirk on his face as she bucks against him, his fingers roughly grabbing at the spot he'd hit.

“You're a fucking dick!” she exclaims, wincing, struggling to turn around to face him. “That hurt. Fuck you, Tyler.”

He uses his body weight to pin her in place, sliding a hand between her legs. Feeling the heat and the moisture that pools there, even through the fabric of her shorts and the panties she wears underneath.

“That's exactly what I want to do,” his voice rumbles deep within his chest. “Fuck.”

****

They make it as far as the living room. Clothes hastily discarded, forming a trail behind them. With the baby asleep, and Nik and the rookie back at their hotel for a remote final strategies meeting with the team, they once more have the run of their own place His hands are rough and needy as they explore her body. He knows every inch by heart; every secret little spot that, when manipulated, drove her insane. He can remember the early days; that fascination and wonder that comes with getting to know someone elses body. With learning what they liked, and showing them things that they'd never experienced before. It had been that way for him. After his first marriage had broken up and he sworn off ever going down that road again, he'd had his fair share of hook ups; randoms he met in bars, friends of friends, women in different countries that -if he was in town- he could call up for no strings attached sex. Esme had been the opposite. Two men before him. Including her ex husband. So Tyler had taken it upon himself to show her exactly what she'd been missing.

Her body is softer now. Her hips wider. She's had a baby. His baby. And while it's familiar, it's still exquisite. A beautiful wonderland that only he gets to visit. And he still worships it...and her...as much as he did when they first met.  And as often as he can.

He stands above her as she lays sprawled on the couch, ready and waiting. Chest heavy, his eyes hooded as they take in every inch of her. Those dark eyes filled with desire, the flushed cheeks, those full supple breasts with their rock hard nipples. Stroking his own cock as he watches her playing with her clit. Exactly like he told her to. Growing even harder when her eyes close low and her head falls back, a long, tortured moan escaping her lips.

“No,” he says, when he senses she's close, and he yanks her hand from between her legs.  “I get to do that.”

She reaches for him but he shoves her hand away.

“Sit up,” he orders. “Back against the couch.”

She does as she is told. The perfect little submissive that she is. He gets off on it. Knowing just what he can get away with.  The kind of punishment that he can not only inflict on her, but that she can actually take. No woman had ever given him that kind of freedom with their body.  None had ever had that pure, blind trust in him.

He tenderly cups her cheek his hand, turning her face up towards him as he kisses her. Soft. Sweet. His other hand still tending to his direction, and he backs away when her fingers come in contact with him.

“Not yet,” he tells her, and then drops to his knees between her thighs. Sliding his hands between her and the couch in order to grab her by the ass, yanking her forward to give him access to what he really wants.

She gives a small cry the second the tip of his tongue makes contact with her clit. Bathing it with long, agonizingly slow licks that has her toes curling and her back arching. His fingers biting into the soft flesh of her ass when when he uses his tongue to penetrate her; jerking himself off as he tongue fucks her. Using it in the same way he could his cock. Spurred on by the obscene noises that are escaping are mouth and the fingers that are scraping across his shoulders.  

“Tyler...” she whimpers, and her hands are in his hair and her hips are rising from the couch to match every move of his tongue. “...shit...fuck...Tyler...”

And when he knows she's close...when he knows she's teetering right on that edge...he abruptly stops. Leaving her a near sobbing, panting mess as his hand drops away from his cock and he stands.

“Get up,” he demands. “I want you to get up.”  

Her legs are trembling. Weak. And he gently grabs a hold her arms and helps her to feet, pulling her into him a for a long kiss. The tip of his tongue briefly touching hers before gliding along the roof of her mouth.

“I want you to ride me,” he says. As if she has a choice in the matter. This is his game. He's in charge. And she never resists when he is. “I want you, to fuck me.”

She nods in understanding, and he runs a hand through her hair and grabs a hold of the tresses. A firm hold. But not hard enough to hurt. Just enough pressure to pull her head back so she looks at him.

He smiles. It's soft. Reassuring. They've been playing these games for almost a full year now.  She knows he'd never hurt her. That with the simplest word or the hint of discomfort, he would stop.  She trusts him. Maybe too much at times. An almost blind faith that both flatters and frightens him.

It's his turn to sit on the couch. Thighs splayed, his hand finding his own cock again. The other reaching out for her, resting on the small of her back and giving her that extra sense of security as she straddles him. Those small hands resting first on his shoulders and then sliding down onto his chest. He guides her with that hand on her back and the other around his erection, lining it with that warm, moist, welcoming entrance.

“Fuck...” It's his turn to groan, eyes closing and head falling back as she sinks down onto him.  And she pushes her hips forward, a movement that has him bottoming out inside of her.  And he releases more profanities and a low hiss when her nails dig in; scraping down his chest and over his nipples.

She pushes her torso forehead, and laying a hand on the back of his head, pulls him forward. His face buried between the valley of her breasts as begins to ride him. Slow, smooth movements that is torturous for them both. His hands slid up her thighs and over her hips. Up her back to her shoulders. And he takes one of those hard nipples into his mouth. Rolling it along his tongue before stepping up his game; fingers pressing into the soft skin of her shoulders as he aggressively sucks. And she moans at the sensation, her fingernails digging into his scalp as she moves faster.

His hands drop to her hips, removing his face from her chest and allowing his head to fall back onto the couch cushion. Sweat beads on his brow and at his temples. His chest heaves from the work it takes just to hold back. Allowing her to have this moment. Where she is the one in control. Temporarily giving her that power.

She smiles down at him and kisses him; her teeth painfully digging into his bottom lip when she pulls away.  

“You like this, yeah?” he asks, as he fights to keep his hips still “You like being in charge, don't you.”

She nods, and drops her head into the space between his neck and his shoulder. Where she kisses, licks, and nibbles at the side of his throat and bulging trap muscle.

“Jesus...fuck...” he winces when her teeth dig in. Hard enough to break the skin. And that signals the end of their little game. It's time to take that control back. He wasn't a submissive man. He never could be. Never will be. And curling an around around her waist, yanks her off of him and tosses her onto the couch.

“Kneel...” he orders, and she's watching him over her shoulder and running the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip as she does so.  He smirks, loving that innocent look she gives him. Those huge eyes and her hair wild and tumbling over her shoulders and swaying against the sides of her face. “...fucking do as I say,” he snarls, when she hesitates. “...I'm in charge here. Got it? I said fucking kneel.”

He snatches her by the hips, positing her exactly where he wants her, using his own knee to push her legs apart.

“Down...” he lays a hand on the back of her head, pushing her face into the back cushion of the couch.  “...just do as I fucking say, alright?”

She nods.

“What? I didn't hear you.”

“Yes. I'll do what you say.”

“Yes, you'll do what I say, who?”

“Tyler. Yes I'll do what you say, Tyler.”

“Wasn't so hard was it? Huh? What did I just ask you? I asked you if that was so hard. Was that hard to do?”

“No.”

“But you want it be, don't you.  You want something hard. Inside of you. Say it. Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want it,” her body shudders as she talks, and she shoves her ass out towards him. “I want you.  I want you inside of me.”

“That's a good girl. Such a good girl,” he kisses his way down her spine, runs the tip of his tongue over the small of her back. Over that tattoo that she'd gotten when she was eighteen and regretted ever since. He'd laughed when he'd first seen it. Not because it was horrible. Far from it. But because she'd actually wanted to leave her shirt on so he wouldn't see it. Mortified at her teenage decision.

She shivers at the sensation of the cool air on her skin, and her eyes close and her head drops forehead as he pushes into her. Not the brutally hard thrust that she had expected. But slow and deliberate. Letting her feel each and every inch until his balls are settled against her ass.

“I love you,” he whispers against her back, a deviation from the stone cold and demanding persona he'd been just minutes before.  “I love you so much. And I can't lose you. I can't.”

She opens her mouth to tell him that she loves him. More than he could ever possibly comprehend. But all words are lost as he pulls out and then pushes back  in, listening to that low growl that he emits, feeling those fingers digging into her hips.

He says nothing more. Neither the calm and quiet Tyler or the rough and demanding one. The hand on her shoulder that holds her in place is gentle, barely touching her. And those fingers on her hip release their painful grip and his hand slides around to her stomach. He moves inside of her. Long, smooth strokes that she swears can feel the way into the pit of her stomach.

He grunts when she pushes her ass against him, and he reaches around to pull her hand away when she attempts to reach between her legs for that extra pleasure. Replacing her hand with his own, fingers easily finding her clit and rubbing deftly at it. Until her body begins to quake and her back stiffens. His name leaving her mouth in a sob that's muffled by the cushion underneath her.  

He continues to rub that painfully sensitive nub until he's coming as well.  His head falling forward, eyes closing, profanities spilling from his lips.

****

“You realize we're probably never coming back here, yeah?”

They lay in the middle of the living room floor. Naked bodies wrapped in the flannel throw that's kept on the back of the love seat. A cushion from the couch serving as a pillow.  Moonlight streaming through the patio door.

She raises her head from his chest to look at him. One of his arms wrapped around her, the other behind his head. Brow furrowed as he stares at the ceiling. She hates that look on his face. Dark. Intense. His adrenaline is starting to kick it up a notch, driven by the nerves and the bizarre sense of excitement that you feel before every job.  The softness in his features his gone.

This is the old Tyler. She recognizes him well.

And although she'd encouraged it, his emergence scares her. Just a bit. More for him than for herself. Even the old Tyler was trustworthy when it came to her. Protective. Almost too much so. He would never hurt her. But when it came to his own well being, he was reckless. And she was worried if he crossed that line, that she may never get him back.

She moves onto her side, propping herself up in her elbow. Side of her head resting in her palm as she watches and waits. Her free hand on his chest, fingertips softly gliding against his soft skin and over the scars that use his body as a canvas.

“You do realize that, right?” he finally looks at her. His eyes are hard. Lips set in a grim line.

“You mean come back here as in here here or as in...” she lets her voice drift away as he gives an annoyed scoff and looks away.

“I don't mean it that way. I don't mean death. I mean here as in Australia. As in this apartment. This room.”

This is definitely the old Tyler. The one that was easily aggravated if she said something he viewed as stupid. Or if she dared challenged his power and control over situations.

She lets it go. She feels the stress and the nerves and the fear herself. The old Tyler always struggled to express those kind of emotions. He was stoic and solid. He hid his true thoughts and his true feelings. Locking them deep down inside and throwing away the key. The new Tyler had worked hard to give over that. Struggling to learn how not to close himself off and push her away.

Their return to Dhaka is less than twelve hours away. A place that holds a lot of memories. Some good. Most bad.

Most horribly, horribly bad.

“There's no way we can come back here,” he continues, and as if doing battle with his former self, he closes his eyes and then opens them again. His arm relaxing around her, knuckles brushing against her shoulder.

 “This will never be finished,” he says. “Well and truly finished. For every one Asif we kill, ten more will pop up. And each one will learn about what happened. What we did. How Asif himself failed. They won't let that shame go. They'll avenge him. Six months from now, six years from now. It doesn't matter. There will always be someone that wants revenge.”

She remains silent. Fingers skimming along his chest and over his collarbone. Nails scrapping along the underside of his chin, palm coming to rest his cheek. And he turns his face into it, beard scraping against his skin, lips finding her palm.

“If they know our names and know where we are, we can't stay here,” he reasons. “It would never be safe. We'd always be looking over our shoulders. We'd always be jumping the second we hear something moving in the shadows. And I don't want that for you. Or our daughter.”

She finally speaks “What about for you?”

“That doesn't matter. It's my job to protect you. It's my responsibility to make sure you're safe. That she's safe. And I know neither of you ever will be if we stay here. What's happen if I'm not here? I can't be here twenty four seven. And that's when they'd make their move. When they know I'm not here. And I can't take that chance.”

She rubs the back of her hand along his jaw. The top knuckle of her index finger skimming over the scar underneath his right eye.

“You deserve better than that,” he says, as he struggles to contain the emotion that chokes at him. “So does the baby. You deserve better than this life. Better than me.”

She pushes his face towards her and silences him with a kiss. “Stop that,” she gently orders. “You're perfect for us. We're safe with you. I never doubt that. I never will.”

He manages a smile and lifts his head kisses her softly. One on the lips,  then the tip of her nose, followed by her forehead.

“Where will we go?” she asks, when he settles his head back onto the cushion. Her fingers now move to the chain around his neck, the pad of her index digit running along it.  

“Colorado.”

“You actually want to throw yourself into that? You really want to subject yourself to my family?”

“I would be nice to have a family. Outside of the three of us.”

“We have Nik. And the rest of the team.”

“That's a fucked of vision you have of a family.”

“Like I've said. You've never met my brothers. You might meet them and wonder what the fuck you were ever thinking. What kind of fresh hell you ever got yourself into.”

“They can't be that bad. And you need to go home. Your mom misses you. And I know you miss her. And your step dad.”

“I don't miss them enough to force you to be somewhere you don't want to be.”

“I'd follow you to the ends of the earth. You know that. It's what you practically did for me.”

“This isn't a competition, Tyler. You don't have to do something because you feel you have something to make up for. I didn't come here and stay here because you forced me to. I came here because you needed me. And I stayed because I love you.”

He smirks “Not to mention I knocked you up.”

“A surprising little turn of events, but yes. That too.”

“A good surprise,” the smile is softer now. “A very good surprise.”

“We could always go to New York City,” she muses, sighing wistfully at her memories of the Big Apple.

“Isn't that where Crocodile Dundee ended up? Isn't one Aussie enough?”

“Hmmm...yeah...you might be too much for even them to handle,” she teases. “There's always Boston. Boston was nice. Chicago wasn't bad. Or Texas. I enjoyed Houston, actually.”

“We could also move to Canada,” he suggests.

“Won't work. You hate hockey.”

“It's not that I hate it. I think it's stupid.”

“Bite your goddamn tongue, Tyler Rake. How dare you.”

“I also hate that shit that you tried to feed me once. With the french fries and the gravy and the pretend cheese.”

“That wasn't pretend cheese. It was cheese curds. Very much real cheese. And poutine is a delicacy, I will have you know. Just because you can be an uncultured swine...”

He chuckles, then wrapping an arm around her waist, hoists her up on top of him. His hands on her thighs as she straddles his hips.

“There's always the west coast,” she says, as runs his hands along over her knees and up her legs. “I didn't mind Seattle. They have great coffee. California would probably be the best fit for you. There's lots of beautiful beaches. You do love to surf.”

“Colorado,” he insists, his hands settling on her hips.

“There's mountains. And snow. You need beaches. The ocean. Surfing.”

“I don't need those things. I can live without those.”

“San Francisco is supposed to be nice. I've never been there but I hear it's decent. And they apparently have a good football team.”

“Let's not start that argument again, love. That is not fucking football. And I already said it. Colorado.”

“Los Angeles.”

He shakes his head. “Colorado.”

“San Diego.”

“Nope. Colorado,” he slowly stresses the word.

She sighs. “Why do you always have to be such a stubborn little shit?”

“Because I can. Because you let me get away with it. Because you love me enough not to strangle for me it.”

“Not yet anyway,” she leans down to kiss him, her hair falling over both of them,  brushing against his chest when she sits back up. “I know you think this is what I want. Going back there. But you don't have to do this.”

“I don't think it's what you want. I know it's what you need.”

“Since when did you become an expert on what I need?”

“You seemed to think I was an expert at knowing what you needed half an hour ago,” he teases, and then winces and laughs when she grabs the part of his beard under his chin and yanks. “Actually, I think I proved I'm an expert. At least at those things.”

“You're like a fourteen year old boy. Mind always in the gutter.”

“You blame me? You're sitting on me. Naked.”

“You put me here. And then you complain? That's fucking rude.”

Curling an arm around her, he unceremoniously drops her onto her back. “That better?” he asks, a hand on the floor beside her head as he bends down to kiss her.

“Much better,” she says against his lips, and then sighs into the kiss.

He pulls back to look at her. Giving her a wink. “Colorado.”

“You are an insufferable bastard, Tyler Rake.”

“I am,” he agrees. “But you love me.”

She smiles up at him. “Only on days that end in Y.”

“That's good enough,” he declares, and kisses her once more. Longer this time. More passionate. Pulling away with a wide grin. “Colorado.”

“You can be a real annoying little bastard,” she teases, as she pushes his hair out of his eyes “You always have to have the last word?”

“Always,” he says, giving her a wink and then kissing his way down her entire body.

No more words are needed.

#I Found #tyler rake #tyler rake smut #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction