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pellucid-constellations · 7 days

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If It All Fell (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, PINING

a/n: Sorryyyy for the wait <3 As a lot of you know I have been going through it lately, but I really enjoyed writing this and hope to post more immediately 🤜. Let me know what you think :))

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 5 ☁ Part 7 ☆

Series Masterlist

Day Court was immeasurably beautiful—with all of its pristine columns reflecting orange light. Marble flooring shone with distorted images of acrylic brush strokes that hung on granite walls. Fountains billowed at the mouth of every doorway, sculpted fixtures at their bases. Warm wind kissed your skin and glistening waters welcomed you and Day Court was so incredibly beautiful.

You were sure, if given the chance, you would think the same of its residents.

Unfortunately, you were not given the chance to come to that conclusion.

“The High Lord is in a meeting. He sends his apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival—the merchants of Day can get a bit rowdy,” the servant laughed. “I can show you to your rooms in the meantime.”

“Rooms?” Rhysand posed. You attempted to look over Azriel’s wing to gauge the conversation, but Cassian took another step to the side, halting your movement.

“Yes, Helion informed us that the four of you would be here, so we prepared four rooms. If that’s not—”

“Three rooms will suffice, thank you,” your High Lord drawled.

The servant squeaked, and you were sure if you could see her, her nerves would be evident. “Of—of course, High Lord. I assume Lady Y/n will be with—”

“We will deal with the division of our rooms on our own. Thank you…”

“Amira,” the servant offered. “My name is Amira. I will be attending to you, Lady Y/n, during your time here.”

You knocked your head to the side, brushing Cassian’s bicep as he stood beside you. You barely caught Amira’s mousey brown hair before the membrane of a wing flushed out and pushed you back.

“She doesn’t need an attendant,” Azriel bit out, misplaced malice creating tension in the hall.

“Oh, it’s okay, I—”

Apparently, not even your voice was allowed to be heard. Rhysand cut you off. “No attendant,” he confirmed, after sending his spymaster a sidelong glance laced with reproach. “No servants in our rooms, either. We are rather private, you understand.”

A pause.

You wished you could see anyone’s expression.

From beside you, Cassian offered you a pity smile, nudging you with his elbow in an act of comfort.

“Anything you require,” Amira shakily responded. “Shall I walk you back, then? Just to show you where you will be staying?”

“Lead the way.”

Azriel immediately stepped back, his shadows scrambling past him to enclose you in dim light. You felt his presence, firm and tall, looming at your back as you took the first few steps down the hall.

This all felt entirely misplaced, with the bleakness of your group extinguishing some of the vibrance of the court you walked through. Cassian kept close to your side, some of Azriel’s shadows drifting off and cloaking the red glow on his hands and chest. Rhys, ever the High Lord, took up the front, footsteps light but purposeful.

Everyone looked grim.

Except for you.

This court held no negative connotations for you, no malicious undertones that impacted the rest of your family. It was simply beautiful, and your family was simply cloistering you.

But you agreed to this; anything to make them feel better.

To make Azriel feel better.

You turned your head to the side as you walked, catching the shadowsinger in your peripheral. Tense, on-guard, unyielding; Azriel’s jaw was set in a firm clench, but it was different from what you were used to. When he was tense at home, it was almost out of… anticipation? Trepidation?

Here though… here his posture was derived from rage. From practiced, honed fury.

You turned your head away before you attempted to fix it, to comfort him. He wanted to be angry, told you as much before he winnowed you to Day in a flurry of his shadows.

I’m going to be different, he had told you, I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

The fear in his eyes had melted away in the Day Court sun; the second your feet landed on meticulously carved cobblestone, Azriel was no longer just your friend.

Amira led you to three doors along a wall, mumbled a few parting words, and bowed away before anyone could send her a second glance. You attempted to offer her a reassuring smile amidst her flee, but Azriel’s shadows were too dense. A hand on your back led you into a room and Amira was gone.

“That went well,” Cassian breathed, a long sigh punctuating his descent into a loveseat by the bed. “She didn’t look terrified at all.”

The bedroom door clicked shut. Rhys raised his brows. “She’ll thank us later.” The High Lord’s eyes drifted to the shadowsinger sulking by your side. “This isn’t exactly a leisurely visit.”

Your gaze shot around the room in the following lapse of silence, analyzing the tense nature of each male. The air felt stagnant and stiff, the light somehow dimmer even with the open windows, and you weren’t sure if your voice would make it worse or ease some of the pressing emotions.

Rhys took a seat in a chair by the door, and you decided speaking was better than leaning into the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you began, playing with your fingers, second-guessing your decision to stand. Azriel remained motionless at your side. “The sun feels different somehow. Brighter, maybe?”

“The skies have an affinity for their namesake in the solar courts,” Rhys offered kindly.

You hummed, rolling onto your toes and then rocking back on your heels. “I suppose that makes sense. The nights are incredible back home.”

The use of that word—home—did not go unnoticed by the group. Not by you and certainly not by the male standing guard at your side. The replacement of the word had been relatively common since you woke up.

Here in Velaris, there is….

When you came back here all those years ago…

Let’s go back to the house…

Never home.

But being in Day—being away from Velaris—just solidified what you already assumed. Velaris was your home. You were sick of letting your family dance around that truth.

“Mother above, I was sure I would never see you again,” a strange voice tore your attention from Cassian’s vivid retelling of your first time flying with him, and although it was an interesting story, the man before you was even more enticing.

With deep skin and an even deeper smile, white linen billowed around his confident figure. The man appeared to glisten as he walked toward your small group, golden sandals trailing up bronze calves. Even the air around him seemed to glow.

Enticing didn’t seem to be the correct word.

You’d been directed into a rather large study after a brief lunch and a “tour” of the grounds that only included the wing you were staying in. Rhys had chalked it up to Helion stalling for time. You’d tried to coax a more comprehensive tour out of the guard leading you around, but a sharp look from Azriel was enough to put that conversation to rest.

“You look just as you did. Perhaps a bit gaunt but…” The man—Helion, you’d deduced—trailed off when the whisper of a shadow trailed at his neck. “I am Helion,” he smiled. “You have known me for many years. In love with me, as most are. But, alas, it is not fated.”

Some of your awe shifted to shock. “I am—I’m sorry, I am in love with you?”

In front of you, Cassian let out a long breath and fanned his wings out before letting them hang behind his chair. You sat straighter in your own seat, mortification creeping into your chest at the small laugh Rhys let slip across the room. What set your mouth into its flurry, however, was the raised brow you received from Helion.

“I didn’t mean that to offend. I mean—what I meant was just that… Well, no one said I had a lover or even mentioned you in that way so it came as a shock. But I presume there is much about myself I have yet to learn so… you are a very beautiful man and I’m sure—”

“Y/n, it’s alright,” came Azriel’s soothing voice from beside you, his scarred fingers pushing hair behind your ear halting your apologies. “He was only joking.” A pointed look in the High Lord’s direction. “He does that from time to time, unfortunately.”

More mortification made an appearance.

“Oh.”

Helion’s raised brow had morphed into an unsure expression at some point amidst your rambling. “When they said you had no memory… You will have to excuse me, y/n. I assumed you’d have more… context. Especially with your abilities.”

“We told you she remembered nothing and had no access to her magic,” Azriel defended, his fingers dropping to rest beside your thighs.

“Well, yes, but often when magic tampers with the mind, the personality remains intact. Like a muscle memory.”

“Oh, her personality is there,” Cassian retorted, a bittersweet smirk playing at his lips. “Just not when she’s met you five seconds ago and you’re revealing fake truths. Sarcasm doesn’t often work with strangers.”

Helion nodded grimly, turning back to you. “I apologize.”

“It’s really alright,” you comforted, attempting to calm some of the twisted guilt marring the High Lord’s face. “They worry too much. Right now everything I do is without context and I find myself embarrassed more often than not. It’s not your fault.”

Helion did not look convinced or reassured. His eyes simply traveled to the corners of your face and tracked down to the patterns Azriel was drawing into the skirts of your dress.

“Do you see now why we needed to come to you,” Rhys chimed in from above his crossed arms.

Helion hummed. “Yes. Shall I get started then?”

The room shuffled. You were informed that Helion had to be touching your head to assess the injury—unlike Rhys’s assessment—so you were sat atop a table to give him better access. Azriel followed by your side, his front pressed against the table, Cassian stood his ground behind Helion, and Rhys took up residence on your other side.

“In Day, we have a type of healing that extends to magical wards and enchantments, was that explained to you?” Helion asked, kind eyes never leaving yours. Too kind—uncertain and full of reproach.

“Yes, they said maybe the witch put something in my mind. Like a blockage.”

“Precisely. And I was informed about Rhysand’s unsuccessful attempt at entering your mind. That could be due to a spell, which is why I would be more useful.”

Rhys scoffed.

You let a smile tug at your lips, but it was quickly extinguished when you considered the outcome of this process. “Will it feel the same? What you’re doing and what Rhys did?”

You could almost hear the way Azriel ground his jaw.

Helion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It will feel different. I am not in the business of thoughts or memories. I won’t be able to access anything other than any inflictions you may have.”

“So it won’t hurt?”

“I cannot promise anything.”

The table beneath you shifted an inch, just to be caught by hands glowing with blue light.

I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

“Still sure you can’t just beat the crap out of whatever’s going on in my head?” you posed to Cassian, tilting your head up to call over Helion’s shoulder.

The general’s chuckle eased some of the tension in the room. “I would if I could.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

With a resigned breath, you nodded to Helion. The High Lord’s hands glowed a golden white, he lifted them to your head, and then there was nothing.

Azriel

If he hadn’t shot his hand out when he did, Azriel was sure your head would have fallen out of Helion’s grasp and plummeted to the floor.

You were limp.

Eyes closed, neck bent—completely and utterly limp.

Azriel took the liberty of tugging on the bond just to make sure you were still alive. He hadn’t done so since you woke up in the forest, remembering the fear in your eyes, but you looked so incredibly lifeless.

“Helion,” he barked, his worried expression never turning from your face.

Icy panic gripped his stomach, twisting it with fervor.

Cassian took a step forward.

“Why is she unconscious?” his brother gritted out. His tone was an empty threat; he couldn’t hurt a High Lord, and neither could Azriel, but Azriel would do much more for much less.

His life had become a nightmare.

Literally.

On his worst nights, he relived the time you went missing and the subsequent loss of your memories over and over until he woke up screaming. His heart would beat so rapidly it seemed impossible to slow and he would be inconsolable for several minutes, but he always had you there. He would wake up from that nightmare and you would be there.

He had that dream every night now, and he woke up to the same. The guestroom he occupied didn’t smell like you, and even though you were just on the other side of the wall, he couldn’t make out the sound of your breath enough to let it lull him back to sleep. Nothing you owned was in that room. Everything he owned was still in a pile by the door after Feyre had rushed to clear the evidence of him from your space. But why did that matter? What were books and trinkets and clothes in a room that was otherwise devoid of everything he loved?

Leaving his room was worse.

Gods, all he wanted to do was hold you. To really, truly hold you and for you to hold him back. But you looked at him cordially, the same way you looked at Cassian and Rhysand and Mor.

When he left the house he had to deal with Feyre and Nesta’s constant questioning. Even Amren had taken an interest in your well-being, and while he appreciated the care for his mate, he couldn’t take it.

He couldn’t take echoing the words, “She’s fine. Healthy. Less pain today,” over and over when he could tell what they really wanted to know were things you wouldn’t share with him. He couldn’t take the fact that you didn’t tell him you loved him—that he would whisper it at your back every time you turned around and you never heard. You were skittish at his touch and shy when you spoke and you were never the first to voice your opinion and he just couldn’t take it.

With your head in his broken hand, Azriel felt another piece of him crack.

“I did it.” Rhys broke the silence, a concentration twisting his brow. “Helion and I agreed it was the best way to go about this. It had to be sudden though—unexpected. We needed a moment where her mind was completely unexpecting.”

Cassian cursed. “You couldn’t have told us that before you made it look like she died, Rhysand?”

“If y/n were dead no one would be standing here right now and you know that.”

“Still,” Cassian mumbled. “Warn a guy.”

“I’ve felt this before,” Helion said, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. Rhysand, you would have—”

“I would have, yes, but not if it was created through other means. It was a witch, not a daemati.”

“She could have been both.”

“Extremely unlikely. Keep going.”

Azriel watched the way your lashes fluttered, counted the beats of your heart and pretended you knew who he was.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “You’re both in her head. Talk.”

“I couldn’t get through the wall myself because it wasn’t her magic,” Rhys explained. “I assumed it was the witch’s, but this signature is too similar. It’s exactly like it was before, just muted.”

“Like it was before?” Azriel repeated, finally turning his head up.

Rhysand looked grim. “Almost identical.”

“That isn’t possible,” the shadowsinger immediately refuted. “I killed that bastard myself. There is no way he could have done anything to her.”

“Azriel, I think it’s possible that—”

But Azriel did not let the High Lord of Day finish his thought. “You don’t speak to me about her,” he seethed. “Not when she came to your court and one of your people did this to her. I trusted you with her. I sent my mate here and she has been paying the price for that ever since. This is your fault, so you do not tell me what you think. You tell me what is certain.”

The room went silent, and Helion looked back at you, eyes glazing as he continued his work.

A strong, steady hand clapped against Azriel’s shoulder. It took Cassian three tugs before Azriel reluctantly let your head go, but only after Rhysand placed his own hand at your back.

“Look, I get it,” Cassian comforted, hands on his brother's arms. “If this was Nesta I’d probably be tearing this room apart right now. But he’s all we have here. And you know it wasn’t his fault last time. You remember how hard he worked to get her back.”

Azriel ignored him.

Cassian roughly shook his frame.

“Hey, you know that. And you know y/n’s going to be pissed at you when she gets her memories back and hears how much of an ass you’re being to Helion. She’s going to be severely pissed if you start a war trying to kill the guy.”

“If.”

The small smile Cassian was sporting faltered. “What?”

Azriel finally met his eyes. “If she gets her memories back. It was an if last time and it’s an if again.”

The two High Lords discussed quietly in the back, their hands still on you. Azriel’s shadows refused to leave your side, weaving through your hair and your clothes and the fingers against your head.

“Well last time she got them back, didn’t she?”

“You truly believe that will happen twice? I was praying to the mother for luck the first time, Cassian. She won’t listen again. I guarantee she won’t.”

“Az…” Cassian trailed off. There was no speech to formulate, not when defeat and resolution were so clear on his brother’s face.

“She won’t love me a third time.”

Your cough had Azriel bolting away from his brother’s concerned gaze in an instant. You were no longer in Helion’s grasp, instead leaning against Rhysand’s arm as the High Lord of Day scribbled something in a book.

“Ow.” You rubbed at your head with a pinched expression, squinting up at Azriel as he leaned down. “I think I passed out or something.”

It was mostly out of hysterics, but a small laugh escaped the spymaster. “Or something.”

Gods, you sent a spark of joy down the bond and it was all-consuming. You did that from time to time, unintentionally flooding Azriel with whatever emotion you felt the strongest. More than once he had to stop himself from opening his side completely just to relish in the reminisce you offered him.

“What about this time? Did we figure it out?” you slurred, squeezing your eyes open just to have the drop closed once again.

Azriel tucked his hand against the back of your head and looked expectantly at the two High Lords before him.

When Helion spoke, Azriel let him, if only because he was still living on the high of his mate’s lingering amusement. “Whatever the witch did, it was a mimicry of the daemati that tore into her head all those years ago. I need to do more research, see if I am able to undo whatever it is she redid without irreparably damaging her mind. If I can’t, the only answer is the witch.”

“Is that even possible? To mimic something like that?” Azriel asked, stepping forward so your drooping head would fall against his arm.

“Witches draw power beyond their reserve and even beyond the cauldron. We know so little about them. Tamlin should not have been making deals with them,” Helion curtly replied.

Any lightness in the room had very clearly disappeared.

“Take your mate back to your room. We can discuss this when she no longer looks like she’s fighting to stay awake.”

“I am awake,” you argued, trying and failing to haul yourself into an upright position.

Rhysand huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even be awake after having two high lords in my mind. Go rest. We will talk in the morning.”

Azriel assisted as you stood on unsteady legs, but the attempt was futile. The shadowsinger gathered you into his arms as you sent an accusatory finger in Rhysand’s direction. “Liar.”

It wasn’t until you were alone in the hallway, your head against Azriel’s shoulder, his arms beneath your body, that you spoke again.

“Azriel?”

He hummed in response.

“What’s a mate?”

Part 7 ☆

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

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bby-deerling · 3 months

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eat your heart out (law x reader)

my hungry ass could NOT be a heart surgeon :)

wc: 1.3k masterlist

cw: law licks your heart, mild body horror, typical law behavior (he takes your heart out of your chest), pining, yearning, confessions, suggestive content, possessive behavior, law being a freak

tagging: @eelnoise @risenwrites

The last person that Law expected to slip into the room unannounced while he was lounging in his office with his feet up on the desk was you; he was no stranger to your visits, often catching him during times he was hardly working, as if you had a sixth sense for when he was craving some conversation. However, you usually knocked in a familiar pattern, or at least announced your presence, intent on not startling him. Whatever you had on your mind today was apparently too imperative and pressing that you had abandoned your usual rituals in favor of speaking to him directly.

“Captain, I wanted to ask you something.” you say, eyes fixed to the floor. Eye contact was a strong suit for neither of you, but today you were sheepish. There was a certain comfort shared between the two of you in these private moments as the walls both of you had built up crash and erode underneath the waves of the deep sea. Today, you’re different—guilt and embarrassment coats your face, but you seem determined to come clean about a certain something that’s been occupying your mind. His lips curl into a smirk, satisfied that he’d finally caught you in his web after months of patience, careful planning, and pining on his part.

“Go on.” he says. His tone sounds curt to an outside observer, but you always catch the subtle nuance in his tone that encourages you to continue.

“When you take peoples’ hearts out, do you ever… y’know… get the urge to bite into them?” you ask, face flushed red as you remain unwilling to meet his eyes. Bewilderment and shock wash over his face—this was not the confession he’d anticipated hearing from you today, but your taste for the morbid and lack of being put off by his ability only endears you more to him. “It’s just the cube looks like jelly, and it’s just sitting there in the middle like a big chunk of red meat! Shachi and Penguin laughed at me and said I was weird for even thinking about it but—” you continue, flustered and rambling on before Law stops you with an answer.

“Once or twice.” he says nonchalantly, legs still propped up on his desk as he eyes you from underneath the brim of his hat. “I’ve thought about it once or twice.” The tension from your face dissipates at his divulgence; all at once, things are as they should be between you two—calm, comfortable, and collected. He’s touched by the way you perk up from the validation—from his validation—that you weren’t alone with your thoughts, and that he treated them seriously and without ridicule.

“Wonder what that would feel like…” you think aloud as you flop down on the couch; it’s quiet, almost spoken solely to yourself, but your words stir something deep in the crevices of Law’s soul. Though your gaze is lazily fixed to the ceiling, the way his stare penetrates you sends a shiver down your spine. The intensity of Law’s stare was commonplace, but the sensation of being trapped within it was addictive and overwhelming, and draws your heart towards him like the attractive force of a magnet.

“Want to find out?” he asks with a smirk, causing you to snap your head towards him. Eyes blown wide like a deer in headlights, your lips part but fail to give a response. “I won’t hurt you.” he says lowly, gently coaxing you to bend to his whims. Tearing your heart from your chest to toy with was twisted and a bit sick, but the thought of clutching your life between his fingertips was driving him wild—and besides, you were the one who had broached the subject in the first place. The slightest nod is all he needs to flick his wrist and separate you from the treasure that lays guarded between your ribs.

“So shocked…” he muses, drinking in the expanse of your wonder-blown pupils as you stare at the way your heart beats rhythmically in the palm of his hand, “Surely you’ve seen enough of them by now.” he teases, tearing his eyes from the sight of you to watch the way your heart thumps in his grasp.

As his tongue dips into the translucent cube and runs across the pumping, bloody flesh, your cheeks burn; the act is pure devotion in the only way Law is capable of. Though the way his wet tongue swirls along the surface lasts mere moments, it stretches out for an eternity as you memorize each drag of his tongue against your most crucial and precious organ.

Despite being entranced, your heartbeat picks up, so much so that Law’s eyes widen in mild shock until he sees the heat nearly radiating off your body. He places one last long, teasing lick along the surface of your heart before lightly grazing his teeth across it. Your thighs unconsciously rub against each other at the sight of him leaving such a permanent mark on you; he hadn’t harmed you, but no one else would be able to hold your life in the balance like he had—it was a profession of care, of possession, of how much he cherished you.

Of how he now owned you, keeping you forever wrapped around his tattooed finger with a single swipe of his tongue.

Blood pools in your ears as he returns your heart to its proper place; dizziness and darkened vision clouds the view you have of him staring down at you, but the murky haze suits his handsome features. Your chest tightens, unbearably so as he leans in; one of his hands lands beside you, the heat of his thumb nearly grazing your thigh, while the other hits the back of the couch above your shoulder, caging you in.

“So.” he whispers, so teasingly close to your heated face, “Tell me how it felt.” His deep voice fills your already light head with flurries of electricity, and stuns you into speechlessness. Bit by bit, you collect yourself—no easy task when pinned by the intensity of his smug stare—and take a deep breath in.

You could have told him that the light bite had felt strangely distant, like nails softly dragging across the surface of your skin. You could have mentioned that the circles of his tongue were so light that they tickled you.

But instead, you tell him the truth.

“It was intimate.” you tell him quietly, holding your stare with his. Only three simple words fell from your tongue, but they were laced with care, lust, and longing; exposed bare, there were no longer any secrets hanging in the space between you. The last wall you were desperately clinging to had been completely shattered; Law now had access to every piece of you to use as he pleased, heart and all.

The hand that was already creeping dangerously close to your thigh smoothly slides across it, making your pulse throb in your cheeks as his inked fingers squeeze the flesh over top of your boiler suit. His darkened eyes keep you in a dazed state as he takes in the moment; he drinks in each shaky breath, the way you lean into his touch, and the outpouring of need from your eyes. There’s a certain level of restraint as he kisses you; hungry for control, he is slow and methodical, the blood on his tongue the only reminder that your plump, beating heart was just in his mouth. However, the way that you melt under his touch combined with the invisible mark he’d left inside your chest makes him let go, slipping his tongue inside your mouth with overflowing passion.

His fingers entangle in your hair; though it’s the first time he’s done it, he treats it as if it’s the last. Though you had given him your heart on a silver platter, he needs more of you.

You’d sparked a remarkable hunger inside of Law—you just hope you’re able to satisfy it.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #he is so weird and fucked up i love him

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princessshikky · 20 days

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Okay, this post has been a long time coming.

Basically, there is a huge amount of misconceptions about liujiu and their history, and it's very frustrating to see in arguments about canon, so. I'm here to clear Liu-shidi's reputation and browbeat SJ with a newspaper (affectionate).

There is a whooping total of 4 liujiu interaction scenes in SVSSS. In chronological order:

The first meeting occurs at an inter-peak competition, where SJ hates LQG at first glance. LQG wins a sparring and has an air of "matter-of-fact arrogance" about him, which only strengthens SJ's dislike. What's interesting is that next SJ ambushes LQG after the sparring and "uses every means" to attack him, as recounted by Yue Qingyuan. Which does nothing to endear SJ to LQG and makes LQG very understandaby wary of SJ.

The second meeting occurs in a brothel. Backstory: SJ stumbles upon a Baizhan disciple named Ji Jue on the street, they have a quarrel, SJ beats and seriously injures Ji Jue, then goes to a brothel. LQG hears about it and rushes to "teach SJ a lesson". Interestingly, nowhere in the text is it mentioned that SJ is injured in any way after his scuffle with LQG, even though the fight has apparently taken quite a while and LQG is a way better fighter than SJ.

The well mission. SJ, LQG and SQH are assigned to deal with some evil spirits in a remote village. Spirits fly out of an old well, one of them attempts to attack LQG from behind, SJ sees it and attacks the spirit, but accidentally brushes over LQG's shoulder, which LQG mistakes for an attempt to kill him. SQH tries to clear the misunderstanding, but SJ threatens him into silence. Again, LQG and SJ come to blows, but no injuries are mentioned.

The disciple acceptance ceremony. SJ and YQY are watching the potential recruits, LQG arrives, has a brief but civil conversation with YQY, SJ intervenes, LQG insults him and leaves.

That's it, folks! That's literally every liujiu interaction in canon! Now with this out of the way, let me disprove some of those fanons I see in liujiu fics every damn time I dare to open one.

LQG did not mistakenly believe SJ to be a son of a wealthy family. Nowhere in the book does LQG ever comment on SJ's origin. This is a fanon from "The Grand Unified Theory of Shen Qingqiu", which is a great fic, don't get me wrong, but god did it mess with people's perception!

In the same vein, LQG never accused SJ of being lazy. Ever. That was QQQ.

LQG wasn't unreasonable to immediately assume SJ was trying to kill him during the well assignment. Think of what LQG knows about SJ at this point: SJ is willing to ambush someone because of entirely stupid and petty reasons like a lost sparring; SJ is perfectly willing to seriously injure his fellow disciple (see: Ji Jue); SJ is constantly threatening to kill LQG (mentioned in the brothel scene); SJ is not above using dirty tricks to achieve his ends. Yes, the suspicion made SJ feel bad, which is perfectly understandable (poor SJ was just trying to help!), but it wasn't entirely baseless. LQG's conclusion was based on SJ's prior behavior.

Speaking of SJ's dirty tricks: no, when people mentioned SJ's penchant for dishonest means, they weren't talking about harmless tricks like qiankun buttons. SQH insinuates in canon that SJ wouldn't be above shanking LQG with a poisoned knife in the middle of a sparring (Airplane extra, when he watches LQG spar with SY!SQQ), and Ji Jue, someone who's fought SJ personally, seems to agree.

LQG did not condemn SJ's womanizing and/or his visits to the brothel. The only times when LQG comments on SQQ's private life in canon have to do with LBH and bingqiu. To put it simply: LQG did not give a damn about SJ allegedly spending time with sex workers. Nor did LQG constantly stalk SJ to try and catch him in a brothel. Nor did LQG ever lecture SJ about sex being bad for his cultivation (that was YQY, but no one ever remembers this bit).

Actually, it can be inferred that most of the time liujiu tried to ignore each other when forced to be in each other's presence. They only interact when they cannot avoid it/when SJ does (or seems to do) something so shitty LQG cannot ignore it. Or when SJ deliberately attracts LQG's attention.

Conversely, LQG did not constantly pursue SJ demanding a sparring with him. Not ever. I have no idea where this particular fanon stems from.

LQG did not gossip about SJ's private life. It is never mentioned in the book; however, it is said that several Baizhan disciples knew of SJ visiting a pleasure house. Any of them could've spread the rumour; or hell, it could've been someone else who saw SJ entering the place at a later date. Or the brothel workers may have shared the story with their other clients. It's never clearly stated, but there's no reason to believe LQG specifically was the one responsible for spreading this rumour. For one, YQY promises SJ that LQG would keep quiet about their skirmish. Also, it just isn't in character for LQG to gossip.

Just... every time people write liujiu, they go out of their way to completely erase SJ's shitty behavior, blaming all of the bad blood between them on LQG "misunderstanding" the poor innocent SJ. Oh, if only LQG knew the truth, he'd immediately recognise the error of his ways!.. Except no, actually, it's not how it is at all. And I'm so tired of the people constantly mistaking fanons for canon.

#the scum villain's self-saving system #svsss #liujiu #liu qingge #shen jiu

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gabessquishytum · 5 months

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When Dream and Hob first started dating, at some point the subject of children comes up. Dream says something along the lines of he likes the idea of children, and is indifferent to the number of them, so long as he had the right partner to help him raise them. Hob sighs wistfully and says he’s always wanted a large family, and half-jokes that in an ideal world six or seven kids sounds perfect to him.

In that moment Dream, who is already deeply infatuated and quite easily sees raising a family with this man, suddenly and silently promises to himself that he’ll give Hob those six or seven kids happily.

Time goes on, they get married, and when Dream thinks the time is right he throws everything into getting pregnant. And he succeeds! It takes him by surprise how much he enjoys being pregnant, and obviously he enjoys how much Hob is excited and happy.

Dream doesn’t enjoy the birth so much, and is incredibly annoyed that apparently Hob wants him to do this five or six more times??? He’ll be lucky if Dream ever lets Hob touch him again!!

Of course he calms down once the baby is finally here, he’s too busy gazing rapturously at the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. A close second is when he manages to tear his eyes away from the baby long enough to see the look of awe and joy on Hob’s face.

Even exhausted and still a little in pain, it takes everything in Dream to not immediately demand Hob to give him another baby right this instant. As it is, Dream waits the exact bare minimum amount of time for his body to recover before jumping Hob to get started on baby #2. And so on with #3 and #4 and #5…

Hob doesn’t really remember exactly what he said during that conversation about kids at the start of their relationship, he’s just increasingly thrilled and delighted as the years go by and their brood of children slowly increases. He doesn’t realize that his husband had a goal in mind until soon after they brought baby #6 home. The two were contentedly watching their children sleep when Dream turned to Hob and said “We’ve finally reached the six children you always wanted. Do you think that’s enough, or should we try for one more? I’m happy either way.” Hob suddenly remembered that conversation, started feeling incredibly emotional, and dragged his wonderful beloved husband to bed.

And that’s how baby #7 was conceived after all😁

-🪽anon

This is so pure OK 🥺 love Dream deciding that he'll do anything for Hob but also that he continues feeling the same way and wanting to do it?? Adorable.

And Hob must be both extremely pleased but also a little puzzled by the fact that Dream seems to be on a baby making schedule! He knows that Dream genuinely enjoys his pregnancies and that he seems to want a large family, but it does sometimes seem like Dream is counting up to something?? Hob privately jokes to himself that Dream is trying to make a whole football team.

Well, not quite. Enough for a 7-aside game, though! Hob is so emotional (and horny) that Dream did all of that hard work for him. He would've settled for one or two, or even none at all if Dream hadn't wanted children. But instead they have their big, loud, wonderful brood and it's all down to Dream’s love and generosity.

.....and perhaps a healthy helping of breeding and pregnancy kink from both of them. Hob has certainly been extremely appreciative of Dream throughout every single one of his pregnancies. He hasn't wanked so much since he was a teen (he's not the kind of husband to bother his pregnant partner for sex when he's napping/having a migraine/puking/nursing the last baby he popped out). They've had clandestined fucks in every single room while the kids are briefly napping, and even their non sexual intimacy has been amazing. Hob just wants to hold Dream as much as he'll allow.

He has to agree with his past self. Seven IS a good number.

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw mpreg #cw pregnancy

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theintrovertbean · 9 months

Text

My statement about the drama

Hello!

This post will be about the whole Rai drama that they orchestrated against @asrabounding. But first, I would kindly ask anyone who hasn't read the post by @iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia, aka brainrot, to do so. It can be quite triggering, so please, be mindful of that and make sure to put yourself first. The same warning applies to my own post.

First, I want to apologize. I did bad stuff, and I've been doing my best to mend my mistakes. I'm very sorry about the things I've done, but especially about the things I could have prevented. My friends got hurt because of something I was a part of and could have avoided if I wasn't scared to stand up for others and myself.

This is going to be a long post. Sorry about that too, but this whole drama was simply a lot.

Brainrot's part perfectly sums up what happened, but since I was there from the beginning of the drama, it would be fair to add some things from my own POV. It isn't nearly as professional as brainrot's statement, and it's more about my personal experience, which I think shows how this drama affected the well-being of the people involved. Again, this is my experience, but we all share the feelings.

The first time I posted from this account on Tumblr was in July 2022, and Rai reached out to me on November 1. Apparently, I was too intimidating, but as it turns out, Rai just needed me (and other people) for their plans. They specifically wanted to involve mainly Nadia fans, so it was only a matter of time before they messaged me.

Why Nadia fans, you might ask? Well, we could sit here all night and take guesses because no one knows for certain. Rai only pretended to like Nadia (because wanting to kill her is enough proof that they didn't like her), so their reason must have been something psychological. But again, we can't know for certain. Sadly, their actions put us Nadia fans in a bad light, and their friendship was never genuine.

I have a guess that Rai had been stalking a few bigger creators for a while and just waiting for one of them to make a mistake. Asrabounding (AB from now on) happened to be the unlucky one.

Honestly, I didn't know AB at all. We never interacted, and the first time I ever heard about him was through Rai. At the beginning of December 2022, Rai told our server about AB and how he and his girlfriend were harassing their "boi," Panda, who was completely incapable of taking care of himself, at least according to Rai.

I spoke to Panda a few times during the drama; he is nothing like Rai described, which You can tell by the screenshots as well. He is overly friendly and tends to overshare, and I would say he is pure evil, but that adjective would be far too generous in his case. I also have to add that there is no evidence of Rai and Panda being two different people. I've looked through my DMs, and a few servers that Rai is/was in and found zero traces of them ever having a conversation. I also asked around, and no one has ever seen these two interact with each other. Once, we even asked Rai to invite Panda to their server because we all wanted to get to know him, but they immediately refused, saying he is too soft and all kinds of weird things to say about one's partner. I suppose it would be hard to text from two accounts simultaneously.

The private server that Rai created was made in November, around the time when the drama began. It's crucial to mention that none of us knew AB. This allowed Rai to portray AB however they wanted.

There are screenshots in the pdf from the DMs between Rai and me. They told me quite a few things but purposefully left out important details. The screenshots Rai sent me were always sent in a way that would make AB seem like the worst person to ever exist. I (and the server) also received altered versions of AB's art, which were edited in a way to make it seem like AB was making Asra whiter or orange. Additionally, Rai maliciously gathered personal information about AB and his loved ones, which is both legally and morally wrong.

The call-out blog happened and didn't gain much attention, which was quite disappointing to Rai, but failure didn't stop them. They recruited more people for the sole purpose of hurting AB. We retreated to Rai's server until the previous drama, where Rai popped up every once in a while to stir up our anger and disturb our conversations.

Then we arrive at the latest drama. Rai's efforts paid off. One of our friends did a call-out post, and things went crazy. I don't have to describe what happened because it's in brainrot's statement, but there is one thing that I really want to highlight. Rai did nothing. Everything we did was because of them and their "boi," and they just watched us all get burned.

At some point, brainrot presented us with an opportunity to make peace with AB. Two of us even volunteered to talk to him, myself included. Rai didn't even react while everyone else was looking forward to ending the drama. Actually, Rai was unusually quiet. They gave us an excuse for being less active and just left us to deal with their mess.

When brainrot left, I almost immediately reached out to him for two reasons. 1. He is my friend. I was concerned about his well-being and wanted to make sure he was alright. 2. I was physically and mentally sick of the drama and considered leaving the server myself. There were days when I could barely function because of the anxiety I felt. I was a mess. Everyone was, but never Rai. I felt like I was in the middle of a battlefield, watching my friends get slaughtered while the person behind it all, Rai, was having the time of their life far away in a luxury tent. I desperately wanted to end that.

On multiple occasions, I muted the server for hours and sometimes even days because I could not deal with Rai. There was a clear hierarchy, and Rai would constantly try to compete with us and bring us down. Everyone else was behaving like normal human beings, and then Rai would randomly show up to pollute the air with their "hee hoos" and disturbing stories they claimed were true.

The same person who said they were gathering courage for months to text me never showed any care, remorse, or fear during our nine months of "friendship." Also, the very same person would go around texting random people on Tumblr, checking how intelligent and "mentally stimulating" (they said that, not me) they are, and trying to figure out if they hate Dorian and/or Asrabounding. They were also looking for people in a more vulnerable position, such as those who were new to the fandom and/or lonely. When everything on the list was ticked off, Rai invited them to their server. For privacy reasons, I'm not going to say an exact number, but about ten of us were "recruited."

Brainrot and I talked a bit, we both vented, and we eventually reached the point where I said that I would talk to AB just to end this madness. And so I did with brainrot's help, even though it horrified me, but I knew I had to do it for others. I expected AB to be just as Rai presented him to us, but he wasn't. The AB I was talking to was kind, understanding, cooperative, and tired of everything that had been going on. It often made me wish I met AB sooner than Rai. Our conversations with AB were and still are civil and friendly, and I am nothing but thankful to him. We compared our notes, then brainrot and I went back to DMs for a while to discuss everything.

We realized that 1. Everything Rai said about AB was a lie, and Rai just wanted to hurt him. 2. Rai lied to us and used several manipulation tactics on us. 3. Our friends were unsafe.

To include a lie, once, Rai texted me to ask if I wanted to know their legal name. They told me that they were named after a character from an anime. Later, I found from a friend that Rai told her their name too. It was from the same anime but a different character's name. This was just one example.

So we made a plan, and we had to act fast. I quickly gathered a few screenshots from the server that we could use, then we texted everyone involved about the news. Thank gayness, everything instantly clicked for the vast majority of our friends. It was tough, exhausting, and very emotional. Being betrayed by someone we considered a friend was no joke. Honestly, have never felt so much anxiety in my life. It was suffocating.

Then, three of us deleted every channel in Rai's server (every member had maximum permissions). In the meantime, we made a server of our own, a safe place where we could heal together, continue our friendship, and discuss what we were going to do next.

And that's how we got to brainrot's post. I created a document and put in whatever screenshots I had from Rai's server and my DMs. Then I asked everyone to send me all the screenshots they wanted us to include, and I put those in too. That pdf is the fruit of multiple days of work and immeasurable disgust. Even putting it together almost made me throw up more than once. It was available to everyone involved (our friends and AB as well) from start to finish. They were all free to make edits, give suggestions, and add screenshots if they wanted. AB added the anons he received and a bunch of other screenshots. Brainrot wrote his statement, and I did the group's, which is one of the reasons I didn't want to make another one. In the meantime, we found out more about Rai, and it was not pretty; the screenshots prove it all.

This wasn't the first time Rai tried to take someone down, and they bragged about it multiple times. They were also quite proud of how they were able to manipulate people. I mean, just look at what they said about how they got together with their "boi." We know of two people in the fandom who were hurt by Rai. From what I know, unlike AB, they weren't content creators. My assumption is that doing the same thing over again wasn't giving Rai the same thrill anymore, so they wanted to target someone bigger. Bigger drama = more pleasure for Rai.

There was one person who got kicked from the server because they didn't hate Lucio. Rai provoked them to make them act out of character, which resulted in a kick and ban. There were others that Rai wanted to kick out but didn't because they were still needed for the drama.

The things Rai sometimes said about characters and the people who like them were sickening. They constantly described Lucio as a mass murderer and a r*pist and harassed anyone who didn't agree with their opinions. Rai also headcanoned that Lucio SAd Nadia during their marriage. And a lot of other things...

We had to tiptoe around Rai all the time because being kicked out of the server wouldn't have been a big deal, but being separated from our friends against our will was not something any of us wanted. That small but loving community we created for ourselves (Rai excluded) was why we stayed on that server in the first place.

But also, we were scared. Whenever Rai was present, they turned us into an angry mob. I don't know when we started to feel this way, but we were uncomfortable and wanted out. However, when we looked at each other, the angry mob was all we could see. Even when an individual was in doubt, the others still put on their angry mask, and that one person felt alone. I often felt like that too, but we all knew what Rai was capable of. We were already hurting, and we didn't want to unleash the angry mob against us. If Rai were to come after any of us, they would most definitely twist everything in a way to make themselves seem like the victim(s).

Soon after the server was gone and I was no longer talking to Rai, I realized that the hate I once felt wasn't my own.

Once again, I'm sorry about what happened. We all are. I apologize for the hurt I caused to everyone and take full responsibility for my actions. I never intended for things to escalate things this far, and I regret everything I've done. The things we did were not done with a clear mind. If it wasn't for Rai and their mind games, none of us would have done anything like this.

And Azi, I'm especially sorry to you. Despite everything we've done, you treated us with kindness and worked together with us to make the fandom a safer place. You have no idea how much this means. I'm thankful for the chance of getting to know the real you.

I also apologize to my followers for bringing drama onto my blog. While I'm open to questions about what happened, I would like to get back to writing my silly little headcanons like I did before. I'm an open book, but simping for Nadia is why I made this blog in the first place. The good thing is that now I'm able to do the things I've always wanted without Rai constantly reminding me why this and that is so bad. And who knows, maybe you'll see me bring some Nadia content to a different platform as well...

Our friend group, I apologize to you as well because I didn't protect you when I could have. Things would have been different if I wasn't so scared.

Azi, Brainrot, and friends. Thank you for everything. Your support and cooperation helped all of us through these hard times, and I hope we can continue to heal together.

I don't expect forgiveness from anyone because what happened is truly horrible. While countless lies and manipulation were involved, a simple apology won't undo the harm we caused. We have been doing our best to make up for our mistakes and will continue to do so in the future as well. However, please, please be careful. Rai is still a threat, so if you see them anywhere, just run. Protect yourselves and, if you can, others as well. Please, stay safe and learn from our horrible mistakes.

-Eszter

#the arcana #arcana #notaguyrai #rai drama #drama #the arcana game #arcana game #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #count lucio #julian devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #asra alnazar

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merlinficprompts · 10 months

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I have a Merlin prompt I would like to submit!! Sorry for the formatting I’m writing this on my phone it’s 1 am and I’m feeling feral

Merlin magic is revealed to Gwaine when he has to heal a fatal wound. Gwaine and Lancelot are having a private conversation about it, using a code word for Merlin’s magic. An eavesdropping Arthur misinterprets the whole thing.

(conversation goes roughly like this)

“To be honest I’m kind of broken hearted. I thought I was the first one to experience uh.. Merlin’s ’talent’.”

“Sorry friend, me and Merlin’s first meeting was when he was.. sharing his ‘talent’ with me..”

“I won’t lie to you, when he first started doing it I was.. I was mortified.. but then it felt so..”

“Good?”

“Yes! Gods, I know I’ll be condemned if others find out but.. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’m not exaggerating Lancelot, I truly feel as if a whole new world has opened in front of my eyes. I want him to do it again, I want him to do and show me more. I’m greedy for it!”

“I understand you, sometimes despite the years I’ve known of his.. ‘talent’, I find myself yearning to experience it again. I could never ask him to do anything that put him in harms way though, should anyone find out..”

“I know. It’s such a shame he has to go to such lengths to hide his true nature. During it his eyes were so bright and at peace, it made me want to never let him go. It pains me knowing he suffers so much, hiding his true self in fear. I asked him if he ever planned to tell Arthur and he.. he looked so pain. He’s terrified of what Arthur would think if he found out..”

“I don’t blame him. While Arthur’s a much better man and leader than Uther, there’s still no telling how he’d react finding out about.. Merlin’s ‘talent’”

“Well I for one think there’s nothing wrong with it. Especially since I’ve experienced the benefits first hand. I’m telling you Lance, I’m a new man. I haven’t felt this at ease in a long time.”

“Oh yes, i suppose we just must be grateful that we can consider ourselves among the lucky few who get to experience his ‘talent’, and work to assure his safety in the future.”

Now utterly convinced that Merlin is a slag who prefers men, Arthur struggles with multiple emotions; ranging from embarrassment to having overheard Merlin’s private business, to despair that his best friend was too afraid to admit his preference, to outrage over the (assumed) knowledge that his knights are apparently mounting his ‘talented’ servant. He’s scandalized to think Merlin was so wanton, he should be indignant and offended that he shares such camaraderie with an unrepentant harlot. Yet, for some reason he can’t put his finger on.. he mostly just feels hurt and betrayed. He’s mortified over what that means, and finds himself in a panic over what to do now that he’s learned his best friend (who he doesn’t realize he’s in love with) is apparently a huge slut who fucks his knights (and he’s utterly incensed on Gwen’s behalf since Lance is courting her at this time)

Unsure of what to do, he finds himself at a loss and confides in Morgana about how he should act, and whether he should intervene in any way or mind his own business. Morgana, somewhat impressed, finds this hilarious, but becomes angry when she hears about Lancelot. Her judgement of Merlin sours and she finds herself stuck between telling Gwen or fighting Lancelot. From there everything just kind of snowballs. The knights try to correct the rumor but obviously since they can’t say they were talking about his magic, all other excuses seem poorly constructed and they’re unable to fix the problem.

Meanwhile around the same time, the son of a good friend/ally to Uther, who’s infamous for his carnal and shameless desires, catches wind of this rumor upon his visit to Camelot. His interest peaked, he seeks out to proposition Merlin, regardless of Merlin’s willingness.. (arthur saves him in time tho)

Merlin, on the other hand, has somehow managed to remain completely oblivious to everyone’s newfound attention on him, paranoid he’s detecting some snickers and nasty remarks thrown his away, but mostly unsure and too tired to think too hard over it. He’s too busy prioritizing protecting Arthur and finding new ways to perfect his magic that the thought of being with someone amounted to that of another meaningless chore he’d tack onto his plate. He’s come to the conclusion that he’s not destined to have a partner and settle down, the closest he supposes he’ll ever get is being by Arthur’s side as he gets his fairy tale ending, wife and kids.. Merlin is perfectly fine remaining on the side as always. He doesn’t know why his chest aches everytime he thinks about it.

Everyone’s misunderstanding everyone else, Gaius forces Merlin to listen to him explain safe sex between men and assures him that he loves him regardless of whether or not he approves of Merlin’s constant changing conquest amount. Merlin gets sexually harassed, Arthur is emotionally constipated so he rescues Merlin from bullying but also yells at him bc he’s mad Merlin’s being a hoe with everyone but him apparently. Uther hears one too many random out of context dialogues pertaining to Merlin’s sexual abilities, and Kilgarrah spends his entire interaction with Merlin cackling his scales off bc he saw what happens and he’s so excited for it to play out.

TLDR Merlin wakes up one day and suddenly everyone is convinced he’s a huuuuuge slut. Chaos ensues.

While the premise is crack-ish, I do want the story to be written fairly seriously/realistically. If anyone’s interested in turning this prompt into a full fledged fanfic, I’d love for it to be a very very lengthy one. So excited to see if this gets written!!

I love this idea!!! I probably wouldn’t write it myself, but it’s so funny, beyond the embarrassment factor. I would love to see it though! If you or anyone else writes this idea, message me so I can post about it!

#fanfic writing prompts #bbcmerlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #writing prompt #merthur

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writer-in-theory · 1 year

Text

Private Swimming Lessons — harringrove.

Summary: When Billy threw Steve into his backyard pool, he was expecting a laugh. What he got instead, was a scream of pure terror and a story. Prompt: C2 - Panic Attack Pairing: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove Rating: Teen Word Count: 3.6k Content Warnings: Mild Language, Description of a Panic Attack (outside pov), Minor survivor’s guilt Also Read On AO3: Here A/N: This is my second fill for @harringroveson-bingo !! Thank you so much to @serenity-lattes for beta-reading and for cheering me on during all the plotting that happened in our chat 💜

Steve Harrington was weird.

Billy was sure he’d never figure him out, no matter how much time in the world he was given. When he’d first moved to Hawkins—what felt like a decade ago but was really only about a year—all he’d heard about was King Steve, a vicious and charming ruler who’d taken every girl in school out on a date and who’d somehow convinced every single guy that his reign wasn’t worth fighting. That king had apparently abdicated by the time Billy had rolled around, instead preferring to chase after a handful of middle schoolers who referred to themselves as “The Party” and who somehow got roped into enough trouble to last a lifetime.

Enough trouble that bled into Billy’s life, eventually.

Steve was tough and fiery. He’d seen that much in November, as Billy laid on the floor of Joyce Byers’s house after a fight with him. He was also soft, and Billy had gotten to see that too. He saw it in the kisses they’d found together under the spring sunsets, he saw it in the way Steve would hold him a little closer when they woke up in the same bed, always telling him you don’t have to go home yet, stay.

After nearly a year, Billy was intoxicated by Steve. He wanted to know more, wanted to pick apart every single piece of Steve until he could see each puzzle piece that made up the whole beautiful picture.

One piece he couldn’t figure out was the pool.

Steve took the Party to the Hawkins Community Pool multiple times a week as soon as school let out for the summer. It was odd, sure, but Steve reassured him that he’d rather be here than at his private pool because Billy was there, and because he didn’t have to watch the kids.

Except that wasn’t true either, because Steve never relaxed. He hardly ever let his eyes off those kids, even when it was Billy up on the lifeguard stand. Even when Billy walked over to his chair, flirting and flexing because he finally had his tan back, see, Harrington? Steve’s eyes never left where the kids were splashing and swimming around. Billy’d even seen a fleeting moment of panic once—the one with the fluffy hair that got comically irritated when Billy messed up his name took a running leap into the pool, submerging and not coming back up for a few seconds. Billy had been standing by Steve’s pool chair then, close enough to see the flash of fear in his eyes as he shot forward, hands gripping the sides of the chair like it was the only thing keeping him from rushing into the pool after the kid. It was strange, but not too out of the realm of possibility for Steve. After all, on more than one occasion Max had huffed and groaned about him like he was a mom to these kids—apparently, he was protective of them ever since he was in charge of them at the junkyard.

Then there were the times Steve invited Billy over to swim. Steve would be wearing those short little swim trunks that made Billy wish they weren’t outside where one of his rich-ass neighbors could hear if anything louder than a conversation occurred, but he would never swim. Ever. He’d kick back in one of the lounge chairs, sunglasses on as he made some excuse about how he wasn’t going to swim today, but don’t let that stop Billy from swimming. And it never did. Billy would always slip off his shirt, tossing it in Steve’s direction and grinning at the disgruntled shout that came from the other man before he was diving straight into the pool.

Those days were fun, spent watching the sun crest over the peak of the sky and disappear back down under the horizon from the pool. He’d swim for a bit before coming to rest against the ledge, talking with Steve about anything—from football teams neither of them cared about, to where they should go when summer was over, now that they both were graduated and free to escape this town.

But still, pool days would be more fun if Steve got in the water with him. Billy never understood the strange excuses, but finally chalked it up to Steve “The Hair” Harrington not wanting to get that precious hair wet. But then again, he’d been swim captain for three years, so he should be used to it. Maybe he just didn’t want Billy to see his hair like that? Maybe he was teasing him like this, laying out for him looking absolutely gorgeous every week and asking Billy to do something about it.

So the next time Steve invited him to go swimming, he decided he would. Because they’d seen each other fighting off strange vines beneath pumpkin patches, surely Billy could see Steve’s hair all wet and matted down.

“Billy, what’re you doing?” Steve asked, laughing at first as Billy wrapped his arms around his waist the second Steve started heading toward his chosen lounge chair.

“I thought you said we’re going swimming, pretty boy.”

“Stop! No, I’m not swimming today,” Steve called out, still laughing but with his voice a higher pitch than normal. Billy could see the flush spreading over Steve’s cheeks as he hauled him over to the edge of the pool.

“One...” Billy counted slowly as Steve continued to yell, complaining but never once trying to fight out of Billy’s hold. “Two....three!”

It was supposed to be a fun day. Steve would land in the water, and at first, he’d scowl but then he’d swipe the hair back from his forehead and grin up at Billy. Billy would jump in after him and they could spend the day in the pool together, maybe get that underwater kiss he’d been having dreams about ever since the start of the summer.

Instead, the second Steve hit the water he let out a blood-curdling scream.

It wasn’t a scream of shock or one of joy. No, this was terror, unlike anything Billy had ever heard before.

Immediately Steve was splashing furiously, practically hauling himself out of the water. Billy could only watch in shock and horror as Steve sat on top of his calves, bent over so his palms dug into the rough concrete around the pool while his chest heaved. Deep, growled-out breaths punched out of his chest at odd intervals, and when Billy reached a hand down to touch his shoulder Steve let out a wild shout, knocking the hand away and scrambling back like he was going to get hit.

“Steve, Steve, I’m sorry,” Billy forced out, feeling his own heart pounding against his chest and in his ears. “I thought—I thought it’d be funny, I didn’t mean—”

You were born to destroy. It’s all you’re good at.

Neil had told him as much, made sure he knew every day that he would never be more than this. And Billy, he’d fought so hard against it. He’d stopped fighting, he dug his nails deep into his palms when he wanted to pick a fight and he’d fucking apologized to Steve, back when Steve was still just Harrington and Billy was just the new guy prick.

But then Billy found someone willing to love him, and he did this.

It was supposed to be a joke. People throw their friends, their partners, into the pool all the time.

“I’m okay, I’m—” Steve gasped out, already trying to stand but stumbling back to the ground between his rapid breathing.

“Hey, hey, no you’re not,” Billy answered, immediately tossing away his own fears because Steve was there in front of him panicking, Steve needed his help now.

Billy didn’t know what it was that caused such terrifying breathing, but he did know how to help make it stop. He had to know, after one too many times passing out in his bedroom as a kid from the inability to return his breathing to normal.

So he rushed forward, not minding the way his knees scraped the concrete harshly as he made it to Steve’s side. He put his hands up, palms toward Steve as he inched them closer to him. “Hey, hey, it’s gonna be alright, you hear me, Stevie?”

“I need you to focus on what I’m saying, I know that pretty little head of yours can do it. Okay? Can you feel me breathing?” Billy asked the second he could grab Steve’s hand and press it to his own chest, keeping both of his hands over Steve’s to keep it in place. “Try to copy that, alright? In and out slowly, just like I’m doing.”

Steve was staring at him, hazel eyes wide but finally coming into focus again. He nodded, maybe forcing something out that sounded a little like an ‘okay’.

“Good job, keep breathing with me, okay? You’re doin’ great, a real natural. Can you do somethin’ else for me? Tell me something you can see right now.”

“Blue. Your eyes, blue,” Steve answered, voice sounding light and breathless but there. And of course, it would be him that Steve noticed—he was always commenting on Billy’s eyes, always talking about how bright and expressive the color was. It used to scare him, how easily Steve seemed to be able to read him from those eyes. “The sun, the sun’s out.”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Billy breathed out, taking only a moment to glance up at the thing Steve pointed out before focusing back in on the man in his arms.

“The sun’s out. It’s daytime,” Steve repeated, his fingers relaxing their grip on Billy’s chest with every repetition. Billy didn’t know why that was such an important point, but he could see more and more clarity returning to Steve’s face so he wouldn’t question it, not if it brought Steve back to him.

“Yeah, sun’s out. It’s daytime, nothin’ can get you now,” Billy reassured, only letting Steve’s hand drop from his chest once he saw Steve’s breathing begin to even out.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, punctuated only by Steve’s audible breathing as he returned it to a normal rhythm. Billy tried not to stare, instead turning his head to look at the pool, the offender in this entire situation. Steve had been a captain of the swimming team for two years, and part of the Varsity squad for three. He knew because it was just one of many sports that Billy had to hear about, constantly had to see ‘Steve Harrington’ plastered around the gym beside a multitude of records. The coach was the gym teacher, and Billy could hear nearly every day during their Senior year how hard the man tried to recruit Steve back to the team. ‘You could get a scholarship, Harrington, you know that? Anywhere you wanna go, just come compete.’

It used to piss Billy off, the way Steve seemingly threw away the best chance at getting out of this town. Then in November, he found out his little sister hunted interdimensional monsters for fun, and apparently, Steve was the only thing in between her and certain death. He’d assumed that was the reason Steve had stopped swimming—why worry about scholarships when he’d had multiple near-death experiences before being able to legally vote? Even Billy had struggled in the months after, had to force himself to focus on school because that was the only fucking way he’d ever escape his dad.

But this, this was more than simply trying to return to normal life after a scary experience. No, this reaction was pure trauma—something had happened here, in the water, to make Steve so petrified.

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmured, one knee brought up near his chest so he could drape an arm over it. He was staring at his feet, head dipped just low enough that his eyes were concealed from Billy by his eyelashes.

“No,” Billy immediately answered, wincing at the force behind the word. He could already feel the frustration bubbling up in him, and had to remind himself that no, this wasn’t the time for that. “No, Steve, don’t apologize for shit you didn’t do.”

“That was embarra—”

“I wouldn’t have thrown you in if I knew. I’m sorry. You know I never want to h—” Billy choked around the word, eyes instinctively drifting up to find Steve’s hairline. It was concealed by the way Steve was sitting, but Billy could still see it clear as day, the jagged scar from a heavy plate smashed over his head. It was the first time he ever truly feared becoming like Neil, the first time he looked at his reflection and no longer saw the momma’s boy he’d always been but rather a shadow of his father.

It was the last time he ever wanted to feel that way, the last time he’d ever hurt someone he loved.

“You know Barb? Uh, Barbara Holland, Nance’s friend,” Steve began, eyebrows drawn together, eyes still focused on his feet instead of on Billy. They were still sitting as near to each other as they could, Billy’s hip barely brushing Steve’s ankle.

“Girl who died in the chemical leak?” He hadn’t been a part of the aftermath discussions in November, not more than the obligatory ‘don’t even think about telling another soul about what happened tonight’. All he knew was that a week later, the news was going on about how a girl died a year ago at the same lab they’d all driven to that night, that the federal government had kept her death a secret for a year.

“No, well, yeah,” Steve started, already confusing Billy. He wouldn’t jump in though, not until Steve was done talking. He could see the tension tied tight in each of Steve’s muscles like the other man was ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. He wouldn’t be the reason for it, not again. “She didn’t die at the lab. She died here.”

“Here? At your house?”

“In my pool,” Steve corrected, head turning to stare out at the diving board on the other end of the pool. “She was sitting there the last I saw her. Tommy, Carol, and I were having a party, so I invited Nance over. She brought Barb for some reason, maybe because she didn’t trust me yet? Maybe because Barb was lonely. I know she really hated me, thought I was taking up too much of Nance’s time.”

“Sounds like she was jealous.”

Steve let out a noise that sounded like half a laugh and half-scoff, nodding slowly and risking a glance at Billy. “Yeah, maybe. She ended up being right, either way. We all left her alone out there so we could...the point is, we left her.”

“You aren’t responsible for every damn person at a party, Steve,” Billy tried, already seeing where this was going. A rock was developing in his stomach then, sitting harshly and weighing his body down.

“It was an asshole move to leave her out there. In the morning she was gone. Disappeared. I thought maybe she’d run away, thought maybe she’d...she could’ve been like us, you know?” Steve continued, brown doe eyes staring straight at Billy, wide and bright like he was asking Billy to absolve him of his crimes. “The Demogorgon got to her, pulled her right into that pool. I can’t get in the water without thinking about what she must have felt, how scared Barb must’ve been. Shit, I was terrified in those tunnels, and I knew what we were up against.”

“Steve,” Billy tried, but there weren’t enough words to fix anything that Steve had said. It was a shit situation, but they were all just kids when this happened. Steve had been 16, how was he supposed to have fought off a fucking Demogorgon on his own?

“Every time I get in the water, I picture that thing grabbing my ankle, pulling me down until the sun isn’t visible anymore. Pulls me straight into that Hellhole where it took Will and Barb.”

Billy didn’t have the right words—had never really been good at collecting them in the first place—but he did have an idea.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, watching Steve’s expression morph from hurt to confusion.

“Huh?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side in the way he did when he truly had no idea what was happening like he was a doe analyzing a scene for danger.

“Do you trust me?” Billy repeated.

“Of course. I trust you with my life,” Steve answered immediately, and, well fuck the way that made Billy’s chest flutter was something to examine later.

“Then c’mon.” Billy stood up, holding his hand out to help Steve up too. When they both were upright, Billy didn’t let go of his hand, instead beginning to guide him over to the side of the pool with a set of stairs. Already he could feel the tension in Steve’s hand as he tried to stop walking, tugging on Billy’s arm with the resistance.

“Billy, I can’t. I already told you I—”

“Just try something for me, okay? And if you hate it, we’ll get out and I’ll never bring it up again. But you can’t tell me you don’t miss it. The water.”

Steve watched Billy’s face for a moment before he seemed to resign himself, nodding a little and allowing Billy to guide him to the steps and into the pool. They took it slowly, allowing Steve to spend several minutes on each step to get used to the feeling of the water around his ankles, his knees, his hips. He looked nervous the whole time, but Billy was right there every step of the way, never taking his hands out of Steve’s, keeping his eyes planted firmly on those doe eyes he loved so much.

“Lay back for me, okay, pretty boy? I’ve got you,” Billy promised, letting Steve rest his head back on his shoulder as Steve brought his legs up so he could float. Billy kept his hands on Steve, one hand resting atop his abdomen and the other on Steve’s upper arm, keeping him from floating away. “Close your eyes.”

“Billy,” Steve whined but did it anyway. Because Steve trusts him, really trusts him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear. We’re just floating here, right? It’s the middle of the day,” Billy tried, remembering the way Steve had clung to that thought while panicking. “You can feel the sun, yeah? All that heat warming you up, and you didn’t put sunscreen on that pale-ass skin so you’re gonna burn and—”

“I get it.”

“Right, anyway. But feel that? The water’s so gentle, it’s holding you up, keeping you cool in all this heat. It’s not out here to hurt you. And you can feel me around you, too, yeah? Those demo-fuckers are all gone now, but even if they weren’t I’d be here to protect you. I can take ‘em too. Who’s the certified lifeguard here?”

“Actually, both of us,” Steve laughed, still keeping his eyes closed but allowing a smile to warm up his face. “They asked me back this summer and I said no.”

“Guess I should be thanking you for my job then, huh?”

“Yeah, I think you should make it up to me, Bee. Otherwise, you’d be the one in the tight shorts scooping ice cream,” Steve teased.

“You fuckin’ wish,” Billy laughed, knowing he’d have rathered taken any job over the one that forced Steve to wear that ridiculous sailor getup. But damn, did his pretty boy somehow pull it off. “How’d you want me to make it up to you?”

“A kiss sounds nice.” Steve peeked his eyes open for that, his expression absolutely radiant in the summer sun. His laugh was infectious as Billy grabbed onto him tighter than, pulling Steve upright so he could press a kiss to his lips. He could really only taste chlorine and the lingering saltiness of the tears Steve had shed while telling that story, and it was a rather sloppy kiss by his own standards, but Billy wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world.

“See? You’ve survived twenty whole minutes out here,” Billy whispered when he pulled back just enough to breathe, lips still hovering over Steve’s. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“How could I not be? I have my own personal lifeguard,” Steve answered lightly, though allowed his features to soften when he pulled his face back enough to meet Billy’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“I’ll kiss you anytime, you don’t have to thank me.”

“You know what I mean, you ass,” Steve groaned, though the smile never faded. “Can we get out now? Try again later?”

“Only if you come shower with me,” Billy answered, though was already steering both of them to the ladder.

“You’re terrible.”

“You love that about me,” Billy beamed as they both climbed out of the pool, tossing a towel over to Steve to dry off. Steve’s hands were shaking a little but the tension had disappeared from his shoulders, expression open and bright as he watched Billy dry off.

“I really do,” Steve answered. “Let’s get inside. I don’t wanna see this pool again today.”

It would take a lot of work to get Steve back to the comfort he once felt in the water, and maybe he’d never be fully okay with it again, but at least now Billy knew. He could be there for him in any way Steve would let him.

want to join the taglist?

TAGLIST (lmk if you no longer want to be tagged): @alessiamargaux @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008 @whoringrove @strangerleaves @blackpanzy @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @steddiemunsonharrington @magellan-88 @sideblogforcrimpy-plus @dreamdancerdotfile @lonesomewitchking @mrs-fanfiction-2001

#harringrove #steve x billy #billy hargrove #stranger things #steve harrington #harringroveson bingo #billy hargrove fanfiction #harringrove fanfiction #jay writes in theory

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areyougonnabe · 1 year

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Tell us your favourite fact or piece of information about a polar expedition

this is the one that comes up in conversation the most that the people i'm talking to (fellow polar nerds) don't know - but basically, one of my areas of interest is THIS mfer, Sir Clements Markham. now let it be known i don't like him or "stan" him by any means i think he's for the most part a terrible person lolol but i am fascinated by him and have done a lot of research into his life and work:

most people know him as the guy above, the *ahem* controversial old fogey who was more or less the driving force behind the british end of the heroic age of polar exploration. but when he was a teenager, and looked like THIS:

he was on one of the early Franklin search expeditions in 1850-51, on board the Assistance under Captain Ommanney, sister of the Resolute under Captain Austin. this was his last journey with the Royal Navy - he only lasted about five years, he wasn't really cut out for the lifestyle (except for the parts where he got have intense life-destroying crushes on his superior officers) - but it was definitely the most impactful. it left markham with a singular, youthful and optimistic impression as to what polar exploration was all about. homosocial camaraderie, midwinter entertainment, effortful manhauling, geographical discovery, honor and bravery in service to the Empire. et cetera. (can you see where this eventually is going?)

this myth-through-experience grew and grew over his adult life as he worked his way up through the imperial bureaucracy, first at the India Office and later at the Royal Geographical Society, which was to be his most long-lasting professional association.

he participated in the organization of the Nares expedition in 1875, but when that was a resolute failure he bided his time until the 1890s, when support for antarctic discovery began to grow amongst the scientific establishment.

during the time that he was working on drumming up support for what would eventually become Scott's first expedition on the Discovery, in the mid-to-late 1890s, he was working on a, let's say, "private manual of devotion." this was a lengthy manuscript with an equally lengthy title:

James Fitzjames: the story of the friendship, devoted zeal for the service, high souled courage, self denial, and heroic deaths of 129 British Naval Officers and Seamen - A Romance based on information and on facts so authentic and so numerous that it must be very near to the truth.

as you can probably tell already. this was a piece of work. its first few chapters are indeed "based on information" - biographies of Franklin and his officers, often using details Markham received secondhand from men he'd met who actually knew them. (apparently he went around asking everyone he ever met if they'd known anyone on the FE and could they tell him about them which, relatable)

but then after the ships leave Disko and the historical record, the story turns to pure fancy. markham is, as you may have noticed from the title, absolutely obsessed with James Fitzjames to a psychosexual level. he was the "beau ideal" of an officer to Markham. (they never met!!! i might emphasize!!!!!) according to good old clem, if Fitzjames had been in charge of the expedition entire, it would never have perished - the fate that befell them was due to Franklin and Crozier's aged stiffness and inability to adapt.

going into detail about the rest of this frankly bonkers fanfiction would take ALL DAY i swear to god BUT highlights include: a self-insert character named "Baby" who swears fealty to Fitzjames, at least three midwinter theatricals described in detail incl. crossdressing, egregious and disgusting racism against the inuit, pop culture references, a complete and hilarious mix-up of the expedition ranks due to clem not having access to the full roster (jopson as caulker's mate!!!!), and of course lots and LOTS of men dying piously and nigh-erotically in each others' arms. of course there is no cannibalism whatsoever and the men are devoted to the naval hierarchy until the very end.

anyway, the fetishization of youth and inexperience which is visible in the story is quite glaringly tied to markham's selection of scott for the 1901 expedition. at the very least subconsciously, he wanted to recreate the FE with a "Fitzjames" in charge, thinking that would be the key to success.

and to that we can only say: LO fucking L.

#polar exploration

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 2 years

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J2 Tinhat Timeline

Based on the one I created here long ago but separated into individual years this time around (from 2015 to present).

Please PLEASE comment/message me/etc. with any moments you think should be included!

I’m starting out of order (for no particular reason) with:

2017 -

*note: content within each year is not yet listed chronologically

Minncon:

Jared equates obstacles/fights he and Jensen have dealt with in their relationship to obstacles/fights that married couples + romantic partners deal with.

(parallel to seacon 2016, once that year has been added)

Jensen (on his relationship with Jared): “I think the first time the idea hit me that this was going to be a really solid relationship was the first time we got into a fight.”

Jared: “-when you see something tested...when someone is fighting with their boyfriend or girlfriend or husband or wife, like you know what? These are the moments you figure out if it’s worth it, because you are going to have struggles, and you are going to have times that suck. Is it worth it to carry on? Do you want to carry on?”

Also-

Jared gestures toward Jensen, saying, “-my spou-, my buddy (...)”

Seacon:

Jared refers to a singular trailer that he and Jensen share (one of many times the Js have done this)-

Jared: “And they’re, like, knocking on our trailer.”

Houscon:

Jared (about himself and Jensen and the time constraints of filming etc.): “We didn’t see our family last week. (…) but that being said, our kids get to see their parents doing something that they love.”

Nolacon:

Jensen talks about household chores and says, referencing himself and Jared during his response, “It is split up. When we’re not there, she handles it. When we come home, she’s like ‘here’s the keys to everything,’” seemingly implying that the Js are in one household together some percentage of the time and that they’re often given their space, just the two of them, when they’re home.

Honcon:

Jared and Jensen wear matching shirts that Jensen both picked out and purchased for them prior to the panel.

*noteworthy because….Jensen dressing Jared = the best thing ever, and also Jared/Jensen matchy match moments = the best thing ever # 2.

Also-

The ‘like you always do’ slip happens during a J2 conversation that Jared can’t help but turn into something dirty (of course 😏).

Jensen: “I went in pretty quick-”

Jared: “-like you always do.”

*extreme oops face courtesy of Jared followed by a significant and lingering look exchanged between both of the Js which ironically is much more so what makes this a tinhatty moment than the actual dirty comment itself.

Nashcon:

Jensen steps forward to intimately massage Jared’s head during an emotional moment-

Pittcon:

Both Jensen and Jared use the word “contract” while talking about kid-planning. Jared talks about needing to be “-specific in the contract.” As in, “-I don’t mean two MORE [kids]. I mean two TOTAL.”

Jensen then refers to his own situation by saying that it was a “-loose contract that apparently held no water.”

Jib:

Jensen intimately embraces Jared while singing “don’t you cry no more” (from Carry on my Wayward Son).

Also-

(@ the Orion concert) Jensen points directly at Jared while singing.

“-let me be your fortress, when the night winds are driving on…be the one to light the way, bring you home.”

AHBL:

Jensen touches his pointer finger to Jared’s hand, which is exactly how he and his ‘wife’ privately say ‘I love you’ to each other according to what Jensen himself publicly shared with us during Vancon-2016.

*note that this is only one well-known example and that there have been many more of these specific finger touches between the Js both before and after AHBL 2017.

DCcon:

Jared (about the Padackles Turks & Caicos vacation): “[Jensen] knows, because we went there as a family.”

Chicon:

Jensen discusses his relationship with Jared using undeniably ‘couple’-y phrases-

“There’s a support system that exists within us for each other. It allows us to create and work hard. It allows us to love. It allows us to be open. I’m very thankful to have that with someone else.”

Also-

Jared: “I don’t think Sam eats a lot of pie.”

Jensen: “No, I would say, yeah, pretty much! I don’t think Jared does either!”

*note: we’re all on the same page when it comes to the whole ‘eating pie’ metaphor (of the, um, sexual variety) are we not?

I think we are.

ComicCon:

The world is forever blessed by this E.W exclusive photo of Jared posing in a very, um…interesting way with Jensen!

SDCC:

The Js take part in a ‘newlyweds’ type game where they demonstrate to the world yet again just how thoroughly they know and understand each other.

Jensen: “Jared is right! It’s beef jerky.”

*note: Misha doesn’t do well…surprise, surprise!

Although, in his defense, he does very accurately summarize the vibe of the whole thing in relation to the J’s answering correctly for each other-

“That’s what true love looks like!”

ACLfest (Austin):

The Js are filmed by Tiffany Resig sharing a romantic little ride in a pedicab (bike taxi) and looking like the most obvious husbands.

June 1st:

Jared posts a picture of him and Jensen out to dinner and captions it “date night.”

October 1:

Jensen poses in front of a mural that says “love is love,” a well known LGBT+ slogan, and then later that same day, Jared poses in front of a mural that says “love will win,” captioning it with “every time.”

August 20th:

A candid clip is filmed of the Js during their down time on set, and the only thing we can all talk about is the blatant lack of any personal space whatsoever between the two of them.

(more added soon, and additional years added soon as well)

#j2 tinhat #timeline #2017 #husbands husbanding

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thranduel · 2 years

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i’ve seen people say that byler fans are delusional because mike and el's relationship has been established from the start and because of the way mike looks at her. apparently he can’t be in love with will because he has never looked at will the same way as he looks at el and he only looks at him in a “friend way” lol

explain these scenes then because all i can see are genuine smiles and tears in their eyes during vulnerable moments, and the last time i checked, mike hasn’t looked at any of his other platonic friends like this or had any deep emotional scenes with them privately, so why is he different when he’s with will?

and if you’re gonna say “because they’re best friends and that's it”, in season 1 dustin was saying how lucas is mike’s best friend, and mike said he considers all his friends his best friends. but why hasn’t mike had scenes like this with dustin and lucas? and why hasn’t will had scenes like this with them either? why is it so different with mike and will and why has the show been focusing on their relationship and how close they are since the start as well? even though will wasn't in season 1 much, you can see how much he means to mike in many different scenes, such as the scene where they find his "body" and mike's reaction to that, and then when he's going through will's drawings that he keeps in his basement where they play d&d together. and sure, it might seem subtle and not everyone interprets it the same, that's fine, but it’s been there all along and it’s definitely different to how they focus on platonic relationships between other characters. in any other show, byler would be considered a "slowburn romance" and i guarantee you if will was a girl instead of a boy, more people would be shipping byler and loving them way more. but because he’s a boy, everyone acts like it’s “forced”, “unrealistic”, “doesn’t make sense” or that it’s “impossible” because there’s already been another ship from the start, but there’s been many shows where someone’s been in a relationship for the first few seasons and then falls in love with another person, usually someone they’ve been friends with for a long time. it takes a while either because their feelings were repressed or because they just didn't develop romantic feelings until later, but either way, it's possible, and it's a very common trope. no one ever complains with those shows, so why is this any different?

and i genuinely don't understand how people can call byler shippers delusional when there is so much subtext and teasing shoved right in our faces? it's officially been confirmed that will likes mike, something we all suspected for the past few years, there's been subtext since the beginning of the show that anyone would notice if they actually paid attention to the individual characters and their stories, the cast and netflix accounts are now talking about shipping byler and constantly teasing fans about it, so at this point, you really can't blame fans or call them "delusional", because the cast and writers are talking about it themselves!! and after season 4 with how they made mike and el argue and get separated (again), i just personally don't understand why they would make mike go back to her and resolve things like they do every single season. not only is it repetitive, but all the scenes between mike and will would lose so much meaning and we'd just be back where we started. what's the point in making will have a crush on mike just to make him suffer again? why did they have a heart-to-heart conversation about feelings and telling people the truth if it was only gonna lead to will being heartbroken and left out and mike and el getting back together, like we've seen every single season?

people can ship whatever they want, that’s completely fine. but don’t act like byler is forced and unrealistic when it definitely isn’t

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 4

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missnight0wl · 1 year

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Ok, let’s get annoyed with Fugly Slut! Y7Ch51, post Perry’s experiment commentary.

No. Don’t try to make him feel better. It’s his fault he’s a fucking idiot.

I’m shocked to agree with you, but I’m really surprised as well.

NO. HE’S THE REASON THE LIFE OF A STUDENT NEEDED TO BE SAVED.

SEE?!

It’s very uncomfortable to side with Fugly Slut, but you can’t argue with facts.

It’s very simple: you’re just a stupid idiot.

LOL! NO FUCKING WAY! And honestly, it’s not even about that dumb experiment.

Yes. You can ask again, so I can laugh in your face again and remind you that I’ll never forgive you.

Then perish.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD SHE WANT TO GET BACK TOGETHER WITH THIS PIECE OF SHIT?? 😭😭😭 HE LEFT HER WITH TWO LITTLE CHILDREN DURING A WAR!!! 😭😭😭

You know, as much as I hate that Peregrine is supposedly our father, it’s very clear that Perry and Fugly Slut are indeed related. They both apparently see the Mother as a mere object that’s supposed to please them. For Perry, she was just a fling and a fun time before he got bored. For Fugly Slut, she’s needed only to complete his picture of the ideal family. Who the fuck cares what she wants, right?

IT IS HIS FAULT!

NO, YOU DO NOT.

UM, NO?! HELL NO!!!

Trust me, I regret it deeply.

Ok, but the first important conclusion coming from this whole situation is that it’s once again painfully obvious that Fugly Slut has nothing in common with the original Jacob. Jacob was super smart and extremely cautious. He came up with his own code just to secure his private notes. He would also use Legilimency on Madam Rosmerta (who he had to be pretty close with), just to make sure it’s safe to trust her. You really want to tell me that any of that would ever occur to Fugly Slut?

But even that aside I have to point out that the whole “I wanted to bring our family back together” simply makes no sense... for anything. Sure, Fugly Slut was established as someone very naive and impulsive. But the problem is that we’re talking about Peregrine in specific now. And let me remind you our first conversation about him:

It always annoyed me that Jacob says this line even if you chose to tell Peregrine that you don’t want him in your life. However, on the other hand, I saw it as a build-up for the narrative: “Jacob was older when Peregrine left and he remembers how hard it was for everyone. MC was younger and therefore they’re more likely to forgive Peregrine”. It’s pretty much supported by our conversation from the next chapter, too:

Again, he basically was like: “I still remember how badly he hurt us”. So... it really makes no sense that he confesses now that: “Boo-hoo, I always wanted our family back”. I mean, it does make sense, but:

it’d make way more sense for MC because as I said, they were younger, they don’t remember everything, so they might be more likely to forgive Perry’s mistakes;

it makes Fugly Slut incredibly childish because it means his distrust towards Peregrine was just an act to get attention or whatever.

Seriously, it’s like JC was too scared to let MC make any mistake, so they decided to ignore everything they wrote just a couple of chapters earlier and put the fault on Fugly Slut. Which I don’t mind too much in general - but I wish it’d make sense at least. And the thing is that it could’ve been totally done. Just skip the whining about the family and make Jacob’s reasoning something like:

I might not agree with Dad, but he does have a point about the Ministry. I felt responsible for you and mum ever since he left, and I believed that by fighting the corruption, I can secure a better future for you. I didn’t trust him, but I thought it was a risk worth taking. I was wrong.

That’s it. As simple as that. Like... it’s basically right there already. Why the hell they thought it’s a good idea to make it about family right now?

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #hphm jacob #hphm peregrine #jacob's family #hphm r #year 7 #Y7Ch51 #playing hphm #analysis post

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meekmedea · 1 month

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conversations over tea (IV)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I tried to bake,” she tells him during one of their teas.

There’s a genuine look of bafflement at her words. “Why?”

“I was bored.”

A second or two passes before he speaks again, his curiosity apparent. “How did it go?”

Clemensia took a sip from her tea, choosing not to say a word.

“How did it go?” he pressed.

“It came out hard as a rock,” she admits reluctantly when it was clear that Coriolanus wouldn’t drop the matter till she confessed.

The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Oh like you could do any better.”

“Is that a challenge?”

She grins.

Although they are no longer the same children they once were, it was almost heartening to find that he was still as competitive as ever. It made him seem … human instead of the cool, aloof mask he put on nowadays.

This is how they end up standing in his private kitchen one morning. His cooks sent out, as well as any nosy staff that might be lingering about.

“How hard can it be?”

Famous last words. If anything, Coriolanus fares even worse than she had.

Even presidents weren’t exempt from burning bread.

“Not a word to anyone else,” he insists when hours later, it comes out blacker than coal.

Clemensia mimicked zipping her mouth shut.

~~~~~

Their conversations over tea have become a little less one-sided, and she no longer purposefully finds the most bland things to talk about. With his participation, the conversation falls to more casual topics. Politics and anything that might be of importance are things they steer clear of.

In a way, it’s a game. Coriolanus is after whatever it is he gets out of their weekly teas, while Clemensia continues searching for whatever his motive might be.

Of course, there are times when his duties as President of Panem come first. There are weeks where she’ll have arrived on time and he’ll be stuck in some meeting that’s gone overtime or have something last minute to take care of.

In the warmer months, sometimes a maid or an assistant will suggest she wander the gardens as she waits. Or if they’ll offer up the drawing room with the piano if she’d prefer to stay indoors. And when the leaves begin to change their colours, Clemensia prefers the latter.

For a man who cannot play any musical instrument, the piano is kept in surprisingly good condition. Then again, Clemensia supposed that it wasn’t a good look for the president to have a less than perfect image, in his own home nonetheless.

Behind closed doors, the piano is hers to play as she likes. Sheet music is provided underneath the bench – some of the pieces she recognizes as ones she’d played back then; others are new, but not impossible to play.

She can’t help but wonder if he picks them out himself or has someone on his staff do so.

The maid always makes her a cup of tea while she waits for him to join her – Clemensia only ever takes a sip or two, more so focused on the piano instead. Besides when he arrives, a fresh pot of tea is made anyway.

~~~~~~

Is this a test of sorts? To test if she’d flaunt their newly re-established ‘friendship’?

Suffice to say, this is what first comes to mind when the maid that leads her to the drawing room purposefully strays from their usual route, causing her to frequently pass by ministers of various departments in the hallways.

None of these politicians ever stop to make conversation with her, nor does she attempt to do so. But even if there isn’t any conversation, she can sometimes feel the occasional stare as she walks past.

So if Coriolanus expects her to flaunt their connection, he’d be sorely disappointed to learn that Clemensia doesn’t talk of their teas to anyone else.

Because while she is well aware of the social benefits that’d come with being closely associated with the President, she’s also aware that the higher one rises, the harder the fall.

Avarice is dangerous to indulge in, especially in these circumstances.

Conversation with his other guests is kept to zero until one day, the newly instated Minister of Energy mistakes her for a staff member under the employ of the President.

A rude man, she recalls her father having described him once, nothing more than a spoiled brat. One who looked down on all he deemed beneath him.

In a way, perhaps it is her fault, as she doesn’t dress to the nines for these occasions. There’s no point to it – since when does one purposefully dress nicer to call on a friend? But maybe this is why he thinks of her as nothing more than an assistant to order about.

Regardless, Midas is an unpleasant man. One could tell much about an individual based on how they treated service workers and such. And if this is how he acted, then she was anything but impressed.

~~~~~~

It isn’t the last of him though, for once their tea has been poured, Coriolanus mentions him. “Midas is rather…” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

Behind her teacup, Clemensia tried not to smile.

“I heard there was an incident with him earlier?”

“Hardly an incident worth mentioning.” Just a rude and arrogant man. Though it had been funny when he demanded to know who she was as she walked away. She could only put up with so much before it became boring.

But her answer is hardly satisfactory, because he continues to needle her about it. “You’ve got my permission to be as blunt as you need to, so long as you're honest about it,” Coriolanus says eventually.

If they’d been children, she would have immediately caved. But alas, they were not, rather, he was this strange mix of the childhood friend she recognized and the President that she did not know very well.

“Well?”

Clemensia made a face at the memory of Midas, displeasure visible – after all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

“That bad?”

“Worse than Niobe’s bragging,” she admits after a second passes. If she had thought Livia stuck-up and unbearable during their childhood, then the older girl had been far, far worse.

That triggers a laugh out of him. “I remember her far too well. Yet you call earlier hardly an incident?”

“I was being polite,” she protests.

“You were being too kind,” he corrects as he refills his cup with more tea. “More than what he deserved.”

“Is that so?”

Though he laughingly agrees, Clemensia had a feeling that he was serious.

And when Clemensia pays a visit to her parents next week, she learns over tea that Midas has been released from his position.

Father is a little too pleased as he recounts the hand that Midas has been dealt. The man must have made a great number of enemies, for he’s been sent to be the Capitol’s representative in District 5.

~~~~~~

“Your father declined the position,” Coriolanus tells her that Saturday.

Clemensia can see it in the way his brows furrowed, like he couldn’t fathom why her father would decline the promotion as minister. “I know,” she says, taking a sip from her tea.

“Why?” His mouth frowns ever so slightly.

Stars… a frown now. It felt as if she was slowly unlocking more emotions in him, as comical as that thought was. “Father’s getting on in his years.” Her father’s words, not hers. “He’s been considering retirement.”

He looked puzzled now. “Is his health–”

“No, no, not like that,” she says hastily. “He simply doesn’t want to work till the end of his days.” Clemensia didn’t know what possessed her to teasingly add, “Not everyone is a workaholic like you, Coryo.”

Startled, he looked like a deer in headlights by her casual use of the nickname.

Idiot! What had made her decide to use such familiarity? After all, these days, they were more ‘Coriolanus and Clemensia’ than ‘Coryo and Clemmie’. “I–”

He held up a hand to interrupt. “It’s fine,” he says, the shock disappearing into his usual expression. “I just haven’t been called that in a long time.”

first part

next part

#clemensia dovecote #coriolanus snow #tbosas au #blurbs #conversations over tea #platonic #snowcote

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antisociallilbrat · 1 year

Text

The Williams Part Two

Part One

Read on Ao3

Summary: It's their first date! Doesn't start off on the right foot but the night is young so it can still recover...right?

A/N: Yes I am reposting this bc for my last couple writings I was like 'aw shucks my posts sure aren't getting the interactions like they used too' ... it was bc i am an I D I O T who had my privacy settings set to keep my posts hidden in the tags/search results. Anyways.

The bar is too crowded, the music is too loud, and it has an undercurrent smell of fake cheese. Like the kind they'd serve over nachos at The Palace. Back when Will was a kid and videogames were more important than dates.

Now he’s twenty years old, crammed into a booth that has a couple of mysterious stains, and sipping lukewarm beer out of sight of the bartender. They’re probably too busy to notice- or to even care, but he’s always been a little on edge when it comes to breaking the rules.

During the afternoon he spent with Bill at The Bean he was really hoping it would end with Bill asking him out. Luck was on his side; for once.

It’s just that he wasn’t exactly picturing their first date with all of their friends in attendance. Maybe he was a little presumptuous to assume that their first date would be a private affair.

Bill invited him to Richie’s open mic, implying that his friends would be there. It left him feeling a little…put out because maybe Bill only wanted to be his friend. But then Bill told him they could sneak off afterward to go do their own thing, that he had an idea. He followed it up with a wink, one that looked ridiculous yet charming in a weird way that only Bill could pull off.

But things are never simple in Will’s life and he later learned that Richie also invited Mike. Apparently, while they were scheming in his and Bill’s love life. What was surprising was that Mike was going - and was bringing El; at Richie’s instance.

He had a lot of questions but he’s starting to see the answers. Richie isn’t on stage yet, if you could even call that a stage, it’s more like a literal soap box set up by the bar. Some other act is on right now, trying desperately to speak over the music. Mike, El, and Stanley are standing around a table by the stage.

He doesn’t have an opinion on Stanley yet, this is the first night they’ve ever formally spoken but it’s obvious why Richie insisted they bring El. The man with the chocolate neat curls keeps biting back at the poor comedian, getting a rise out of El every time he does. When El laughs, her eyes fleetingly closing, Stan is smiling at her like he’s made a great accomplishment. He’s only poking fun at the comedian to make El laugh. Will wonders if El has noticed…probably not. She never notices when someone’s interested in her.

Along with Stanley and Richie, he’s met Bill’s other four friends. Ben and Beverly, a couple, Eddie- Bill’s first friend as he introduced himself as, and their own Mike. Their Mike is much sweeter than Will’s.

Those four are at the bar. They were sitting in the booth with them but when Bill came back with his and Will’s beers, they each started making excuses to get up. None of them came back and they’re not even trying to hide the fact they’re hanging at the bar. They left him and Bill alone on purpose.

In the booth Bill shifts in his seat next to him, his jeans making that awkward sound when they rub against the plastic of the seat. He looks vaguely uncomfortable and while Will has been sipping on his drink Bill has almost finished his.

Bill is rubbing at the disintegrating label of his beer bottle, an awkward silence filling the void between them. They’ve already run through all the safe questions, ‘did you find this bar okay?’, ‘how were classes yesterday?’, ‘do you like your drink?’.

It’s such a tonal shift from their conversation at The Bean. Bill had had more…confidence if Will had to pin it down to something. They talked about Bill’s writings- he’s a horror writer, and Will had shown him some of his paintings. They had connected so easily then and he doesn’t understand why now is so different. The whole thing has him feeling a little anxious.

Bill swishes his bottle, running empty, “Guess it's time for another,” he says as he stands. He nods towards Will’s bottle, “Do you need another one?”

Will shakes his head and just like that he’s alone. He deflates in his seat when Bill is out of sight, letting his head thud against the back of the booth. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe Bill was better off being ‘The Writer’ that he got to pine over from a distance.

“What’s shaking my second favorite William?” Richie cuts him out of his quickly spiraling thoughts, sliding into the booth across from him.

Richie has cleaned up for tonight- but his definition of ‘clean up’ is far from what the normal person would consider. He’s wearing a silk blue button up with a black vest loosely tied in the front. It’s flattering in a weird way. Light smudges of eyeliner line his eyes behind his magnified lenses and there’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, almost hidden in his barely tamed curls. At least Will thinks it’s a cigarette.

“It’s fine, nothing much,” he replies, hoping his dejection isn’t showing on his face.

Richie just hums, rapping his knuckles against the table. He just now notices that Richie has freshly painted his nails black. He jerks his chin towards the bottle in Will’s hands, “Didn’t take you as a fan of Bud Light.”

He sets his barely drinked beer on the table, “It’s fine, not my first choice but Bill ordered for us.”

“Makes sense, Bill’s always been fond of his piss water,” he makes a move to stand, “I can get you another drink if you want, we don’t gotta tell Big Bill.”

Will snatches Richie’s wrist before he can fully stand up. Slowly he sits back and down and watches Will with curious eyes. Will starts back peddling, “It’s fine, really. You’re supposed to go on soon right? I’d hate for you to miss your cue because you're stuck at the bar getting me a drink.”

Richie ignores most of his weak statement, “Ya know, for a guy who’s supposed to be on a hot date, you’ve said 'fine’ three times in the last minute.” When he can’t find anything to say, Richie does so for him, “Billiam is being horribly awkward isn’t he?”

He gives, sighing, “Just a little- and I don’t understand. We were having a nice time back at The Bean, I don’t get why this time is different.”

Will is entirely unprepared for what Richie tells him next, “It’s because this is a date and Bill hasn’t been on a date in two years, not since his last, horrible, boyfriend,” He leans forward on the table and it throws Will off a little at how serious he’s being, “Look, Big Bill? He’s good at being charming and swooning with people, but dating? He’s worse at it than I am. He over-thinks it. Sure, he’s a hopeless romantic, but he struggles with new people when they aren’t so new anymore. Been burned a couple of times because of them.”

“I- I see…and I understand that. I don’t date often because new people intimate me,” Will takes another sip of his beer, feeling a little overwhelmed. He doesn’t have any exes, he’s barely gone on dates before.

But then Richie snorts, “So you’re both bad at dating. Great.”

He frowns at him, “You have any advice then?”

Richie raps his knuckles against the table again, in a drum roll manner, “Matter of fact I do. Make him talk- and not about the boring stuff. Ask him when he had his first beer or better yet find out if he’s an actual monster fucker for me if you will? His stories are telling but I need evidence,” Will’s about to inject because he is not asking about that but Richie continues, “Fine leave the monster fucking questions for date two- but I’m serious, ask him about the fun stuff, the important stuff and show you have a genuine interest in him and he’ll be waxing poetics about ya by the end of the night.”

This makes him feel better, gives him a look into Bill- one he wasn’t expecting, and lets him know how to get to know Bill better from his own words…it’s just there’s one anxiety of his lingering. “So it’s not me? I didn’t do anything to make him not interested in me anymore?”

Richie chuckles, “William, my William hasn’t shut up about you since he laid eyes on you. No offense but it was a little insufferable. You could probably spit in his face and he’d still be interested in you…actually, maybe he’d be more interested in you then, I don’t know what he’s into.”

His face suddenly feels hot, “Shut up,” he mumbles, looking down.

Richie just smiles back, “So what are you going to do when Bill comes back?”

“...Ask him about his first time drinking piss water?”

“There ya go!” he shoots finger guns at him, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go flirt with my date before my show.”

His what- “Are you talking about Mike?”

“My future one true love? Yes absolutely,” he replies without missing a beat.

He looks back at him incredulously, “Does Mike know he’s on a date right now?”

“He will, it’s all part of my master plan. Wait ‘n see.”

Part of him thinks he could do the responsible friend thing and warn Mike of Richie’s intentions, let Mike decide from there- but Mike did dig his own grave when he decided to meddle in his love life. So instead Will says, “You said you were bad at dating too so some advice; Mike likes to play hard to get, and he’s dramatic in the way he likes to be chased.”

Richie’s eyes twinkle, “Well Papa likes a good chase,” he winks at him as he flies out of the booth, not even giving Will enough time to internally cringe at him calling himself ‘Papa’.

He watches Richie join the others at the table in front of the stage. Richie throws a haphazard arm around Mike’s shoulders…who looks annoyed and snaps something at him that Will can’t hear from here but he doesn’t shake Richie off.

“Everything okay over huh-here?”

Will snaps his head towards Bill, he’s standing by the edge of the table, fidgeting on his feet. There's a new bottle in his hand- this one’s label is still intact, and it’s half drunk. He must’ve been waiting for Richie to leave before heading back.

“Yeah, Richie was just seeking my advice,” he white lies, scooting more into the booth in a way that he hopes comes off as inviting, “Stop standing and sit down with me.”

Bill smiles, sliding in, “What advice were you giving him?”

“On how to woo my Mike- speaking of which, did you know Richie was going to trick Mike into going on a date with him?"

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t but that s-sounds like Rich…did he say anything else?”

“Why? Worried he spilled some of your embarrassing childhood secrets?” Will smirks.

Bill scoffs, “He wouldn’t do that,” Will meets his gaze, eyebrow raised and Bill starts to feel not so sure, “He didn’t do that- right?”

“No he didn’t do that, I’m waiting on you to tell me those.” When Bill smiles Will takes it as a small victory. The tension between them is already lessening and he’s determined to keep it rolling and not let them fall back into awkwardness when this spell has run its course. “Though he did tell me to ask you about the first time you tried beer?”

The tips of Bill’s ears turn red as he ducks his head, “Shit you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Oh but now I really do,” he leans closer to him. The smell of a woody cologne and lingering cigarette smoke invades his nose and he wonders if it’s possible to miss a smell after only experiencing it once.

He can already see the bravado seep back into Bill as he gives in with a little smile, “It was freshman year and all us Losers thought it would be a cool idea to sneak into Eddie Corcoran’s seniors only party,” his voice has taken on that slow, smooth, tone again and he’s not tripping on as many words as he was, “We were successful too…until Eddie Corcoran confronted us and tried to kick us out…” Will nods for him to go on, “Well let’s just say the moment Corcoran confronted us the beer we had been stealing all night decided to vacate the premises of my stomach…onto his shoes. Got my ass beat that night.”

“And you still drink it?” he teases.

“It was my first love, what c-can I say?” Bill lays an arm across the back of the booth. It’s not on Will’s shoulders but it’s close enough, “Tell me, what was teenage Will like? Any raging parties?”

He snorts, “The only parties I was going to as a teenager were Dnd ones.” He’s not afraid of Bill thinking of him as a nerd, he saw the Battlestar Galactica keychain on his laptop bag. It was cute.

“Like with elves and shit? Were you an elf?”

Will shakes his head, laughing, “No I wasn’t just an elf! I was also the Party’s wizard.”

“A wizard huh?” Bill takes a slow sip of his beer, glancing towards him, “You sure put a spell on me.”

Will’s brain short circuits. Bill just stares back at him, a small blush climbing his neck. He just has to shove Bill in the side with his elbow, “That is the worst pickup line I have ever heard!”

He gives him a mock offended look, “I was trying woo you, William!”

Will’s about to retort when a speaker comes on to announce Richie as the next comedian. Mike, Ben, Bev, and Eddie all rush to cram back into the booth with Will and Bill. Eddie snaps at Bill to scoot in more so that he can sit down.

Bill’s thigh ends up pressed against his- in fact, his whole body would be if Will wasn’t leaning a little bit forward. There’s very little space between them and Will…he’s not mad about it. At this proximity, he feels the heat radiating from Bill, can feel the vibrations of his chest when he laughs, and honestly he just falls more into the encapsulation that is Bill.

The arm Bill had resting on the back of the booth comes down to rest across his shoulders very lightly. Almost as if Bill is asking for permission. Will leans back, securing the arm more around his shoulders in answer. There is so much heat radiating between them he feels like he’s going to combust. He’s never cared so much about a guy liking him before and he thinks Bill does like him like that but also he always carries around a seed of doubt about anything good happening to him.

It makes it hard to focus on Richie’s act as he starts his act, clearly in his element. Will tries to pay attention, he does, but his mind is fogged by the smell of Bill’s cologne and the rumbling of his chest against his side every time he laughs at one of Richie’s jokes.

Stan, El, and Mike (Will’s Mike) opt to stay around the table near the stage. If Stan was heckling the last poor guy, he is absolutely ruthless toward Richie. Who throws it right back his way. It was more amusing than Richie’s jokes. He has a hunch that they were both showing off for Mike and El.

Bill and his friends sitting in the booth aren’t safe from Richie’s terror either. He throws a joke out about Eddie’s mom, one only they laugh at and he pokes fun at Ben. Something about The New Kids On The Block? At this point, Will was too wrapped up in Bill to register it completely. It isn’t until Richie targets him during his act does he get Will’s full attention back.

“Now now, I’m not the only love bird on a date tonight,” he whistles while Mike makes a small protest from the table, “My good friend Big Bill is here tonight on a date. Ironically! With a guy also named William,” he pauses for a dramatic moment, “You see if I was on a date with a man named Richard it would be double the Dick but you see with my friend Bill, he’s the one getting double the Willys tonight.”

There's a modest amount of laughter that he earns from the bar patrons. This is one of his more successful jokes of the night. Beverly is dying in their booth and Ben gives Will an apologetic look but he’s still smiling. Will wants to curl up and disappear before his face turns into a tomato.

“F-fuck you, boy!” Bill yells but he’s barely fighting back a smug smile. He nudges Will with his hand resting on his shoulder, “Just ignore him, he’s a dickwad. We’re about to luh-leave anyway.”

A mixture of excitement and trepidation fills his stomach. On one hand, he has no idea what Bill has planned for them for the rest of the night which is exciting, and on the other, that’s exactly what worries him. Will Byers is a virgin. It’s just…never came up before. Being gay in a small town can do that.

But they just got over their awkward conversation bump, surely Bill isn’t expecting that to magically segway into them having sex? Because if so they’re just going to land right back into an awkward conversation when he has to fess up he’s a virgin and he doesn’t plan on losing it after one lukewarm date and even more lukewarm beer.

Richie’s set comes to an end and everyone starts to part ways. Mike Hanlon, Eddie, Beverly, and Ben were going to another bar on the side of the city, and Mike Wheeler and Richie were going to tag along. Will’s Mike isn’t a bar person so he’s continuing to be surprised tonight by his friend’s decisions. El wants to go home- no surprise there, because she really isn’t a bar person and Stan insists on driving her back. Hopefully, she notices Stan’s obvious flirting on the drive.

Bill asks if he’d like to go with everyone to the next bar and it’s clear that he’s giving Will an out of being alone together. But the thing is- despite his reservations, he wants to see what Bill has planned for them. Bill doesn’t act like a guy who is going to try to pressure him into doing anything he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t seem like his style.

He takes Bill’s hand, acting braver than he feels, “I just wanna hang out with you.”

The smile Bill gives him in response is beautiful.

Bill doesn’t disclose much about where they’re going when they crawl into his silver truck. Will didn’t know he had a vehicle, he never drives to The Bean and when he asks about this, Bill just waves him off, saying that driving in New York is too stressful for his tastes.

On the way over Will tries to get some information out of him about where they’re heading as the excitement builds. Bill appears very sure of himself that this is a place that Will is going to be very happy about. To say he is intrigued would be an understatement.

Curiously it’s some type of office building Bill drives them up to. He jumps out of the car without a word and heads towards the doors, leaving Will no choice but to follow him. The temperature has dropped significantly and even with his large coat, he crowds close to Bill as he unlocks the glass doors.

Bill gets it unlocked and heads inside, turning back to Will when he doesn’t follow him, “You coming?”

He nervously glances at his surroundings, reading the sign “Gray’s Design Company Coming Soon,” painted onto one of the front windows. Trespassing wasn’t something he considered he would be doing tonight.

“Are you sure we should be here?” The last thing he wants is to be is a ‘Nervous Nellie’ as Mike has called him before but…they’re trespassing.

Bill must somehow read his mind, dangling the key he used to get in, “It’s okay, we have per-permission.” He’s still a little nervous but he follows Bill inside.

The inside of the building is gutted, and clearly being renovated. Plastic sheets litter the floor and hang from the ceiling and briefly, Will is reminded of that one episode of Dexter Max had forced him to watch.

Will only glances away from Bill for a second but when he looks back Bill’s gone. Okay, now he’s starting to panic. “Bill?! Where’d you go?!”

A hand on his shoulder startles him, making him yelp. Bill looks down at him with a smile full of mirth, “Keep up, I want you to s-see this.”

“You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me right?” He’s only half joking.

Bill rolls his eyes, and takes his hand, “Come on.”

They push through two more plastic sheets and Will sees why Bill was being impatient to show him. The sight before him takes his breath away.

It’s the first actual room they’ve walked into and it is filled to the brim with art. There are canvases in stacks leaning against the walls, sculptures on pedestals, and tables filled with sketches. The art styles are all different signifying this isn’t the collection of one person. He just has to touch.

The first table he approaches has sketches all done in charcoal. They’re smudged from rubbing against each other but he can make out the sketches of the people. Just strangers that are going about their everyday life, probably unaware of their portrait being created.

On the next table are unframed works of watercolor. All vivid and seeming to leap off the page. Some depict still life while some are settings. Places pulled from the artist’s mind, maybe places that they wish they could visit or just simply places that are not real but still beautiful all the same. These are his favorites.

He swivels on his heel, a watercolor work of a river still in his hand, to look back at Bill. He’s still standing at the entrance, watching him with a small smile. It makes his whole heart flutter.

“What is this place?” he asks, gesturing to the whole room.

Bill comes to stand by him, taking the painting in Will’s hand to examine, “Ben’s boss bought this place for his architecture firm and apparently the basement was filled with this stuff. Whoever owned the building before ap-aparently was an avid art collector.”

“A ‘collector’ is putting it lightly, this is more like a hoarder’s work. This is insane,” He walks over to a sculpture of a woman’s head made from clay, “This stuff belongs in an art show or a museum! I have never seen so much art in one room before!” He pauses for a moment, “What do they plan on doing with all of this?”

“Well Ben’s boss planned on tossing it all since most of it isn’t from any famous artists,” Will’s heart sinks, “But Ben convinced him to donate it to an art school, make the business look good,” he finishes.

“Yes, good publicity in exchange for not throwing away a collection of people’s hard work,” he doesn’t mean to sound bitter but some people will just never understand art. It’s just a thing that takes up space in their new office building.

Bill just hums, “Well I did manage to convince Ben to let you take your pick of the art here before it gets donated.” He hands Will back the painting.

He feels as if he’s a kid in a candy store and his mom just said he could get whatever he wants. “I can take whatever I want? Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent, you have a deep appreciation for art and you’ll actually care about these pieces,” He stands in front of him and Will realizes how close they've gotten. Bill reaches out and tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, his hand lingering, “I’m really suh-sorry about earlier by the way. You make me nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t date often because most people also make me nervous,” he leans into Bill’s hand, remembering what Richie had said earlier about Bill’s ex and how he has hesitations about people getting to know the real him. He's not going to be one of those people that 'burn' him.

“I’m honored to be your date tonight then,” Bill murmurs.

They’re so close their breaths are mingling and right when Bill’s eyes flutter shut and he leans down to kiss him, Will slyly ducks out from under his arm, “Come on! We got art to go through!”

Bill sighs, amused, “Okay where do you want to start?”

For the next hour, they go through every canvas and every sketch. Will pays no attention to the sculptures as he doesn’t think he’ll have room for them in his dorm.

During this he learns that Bill used to sketch a lot when he was younger before diving into writing and like his writing, he would draw horror. Bill ends up taking home a sketch of a rib cage with flowers blooming through the ribs. He still has a passion for macabre works of art.

Will on the other hand takes home a painting of a lonely cabin scene and two sketches, one of a beautiful man with wings and another of a bed of flowers. Plus he took the watercolor painting of the river that he first grabbed. Honestly he was holding back.

“I can’t believe you didn’t want that painting of the naked chicken,” Bill says as he loads Will's painting into the backseat of his truck.

“It was a featherless chicken, not a naked one,” he corrects, still a little disgusted by how detailed it was. He jumps into the passenger seat as Bill is getting into the driver's seat.

“That st-still counts as naked.”

“Why do you do that? Trip on words sometimes?” He realizes how insensitive that sounds too late, “Wait! You don’t have to answer that! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re a lot nicer about asking about it than s-some people,” Bill reaches over and takes a hold of his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I used to have a horrible st-stutter and I’ve almost got it under control, it still comes out I guess.”

Will squeezes his hand back, “I think it’s kinda cute- if that’s okay to say?”

“That’s okay to say,” he raises their entwined hands and kisses the back of Will’s hand. His lips feel soft.

He feels the need to share something intimate about himself. What did Richie say, talk about the deep stuff? Fuck it, he’s going to do that.

“I’m a virgin.” Well, that’s one way to say it, Will.

Bill’s eyebrow furrows, “I wasn’t planning on trying to get into your p-pants if that’s what-”

“No no no,” shit he made Bill get defensive, he honestly could have said that better, “I didn’t think that you were! Just you shared something personal about yourself and I wanted to do that too! Earlier Richie told me to talk about the ‘deep stuff’ with you and- God I don’t know; I feel like I just messed this all up.”

A big hand cups the side of his face, forcing him to meet Bill’s eye, “You didn’t mess anything up,” Bill soothes, “And Richie is an idiot but I’m glad he told you we should talk about the deep stuff. Eventually, we’re going to have to have a conversation about your luh-limits in the bedroom and what you’re comfortable with and you will be the one to set those,” Will positively colors at that but it takes a weight off his chest he hadn’t realized was there, “I’m happy you shared that with me, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Will knows that when he loses his virginity, he wants to lose it to Bill but like Bill said, that’s a conversation for another time. Right now all he can focus on is, “You said ‘eventually’ implying you want to see me more?”

Bill smiles at him boyishly, “As if that was a question. I p-plan on annoying you for a long while, hope you’re okay with that.”

His entire being is beaming. The boys Will likes aren’t supposed to return his feelings- especially not boys like Bill Denrbough. “Yeah, I think I’m more than okay with that.”

Neither of them wants to move despite how late it’s getting. Foolishly the romantic side of him is thinking about how he doesn’t want this night to end. Their hands are still linked over the middle console and Bill’s hand is still cupping his cheek, his thumb brushing against the side of his face.

“Can I kiss you?” Bill asks softly.

In lew of words, Will just nods his head. Sure he’s been kissed before. Once in middle school by Sally Mae behind the bleachers, the kiss that solidified that he liked boys, and then once in a game of spin the bottle with Lucas. Both of them were chased and lacked any of the emotion that Bill has when he kisses him. His lips are soft.

He has to remind himself to close his eyes. Bill takes the lead and presses and disconnects their lips a couple of times, pulling back minutely to nudge his nose against his and he gets the hint, he starts to move his lips as well. He can feel Bill smiling. It’s when he’s getting the hang of this that Bill swipes his tongue against his bottom lip. It felt foreign yet good and he gasps when Bill does it again. Bill’s tongue travels into his mouth slowly, licking and mapping it out. Will lets go of his hand and grasps his shoulders, trying to ground himself. He doesn’t have much to compare this to but he thinks Bill is a very good kisser. The noises he’s making he would find a little embarrassing any other time but right now he's not in any capacity to care.

Disappointedly, Bill breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against his, “I really like you, William Byers.”

Will blushes, “I really like you too, William Denbrough.”

A/N: AHA okay you can tell that for some reason I really struggled to find my footing writing this and with the dialogue but,,,this is my second draft of the chapter and I'm still not happy with it and I didn't have it in my to start over.

That being said I am really happy with how the ending turned out. I love soft boys.

This is the last chapter for WillBill as in part three we will be seeing how the rest of Wheelzier and Elstan's night went...that one will definitely be at least rated M bc Wheelzier :0

Thank you for reading! I always appreciate the people that read my rare pair nonsense!

#this sht better show up in the tags so help me #i post rarepairs #i need the advertisement #willbill #wheelzier #elstan #will byers #bill denbrough #mike wheeler #richie tozier #stanley uris #eleven hopper #it 2017 #it 2019 #stranger things #stranger things 4

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perfectlypanda · 2 years

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On Azula and Redemption

@timewarpagain: So the idea of Azula "deserving" a redemption arc or even being "not that bad" has been going around ever since the resurgence of the series on Netflix, what are your thoughts about that

I’m not going to tag this anti-Azula, because it’s not, but I will say it is going to be critical of her, so if that’s going to bother you stop reading now. I’m also not going to argue if X character did better or worse things than Azula, because that’s irrelevant to what Azula did. Don’t bring that argument here, it’s a separate conversation. The graphic novels aren’t going to be included because they are a steaming pile of garbage.

A better question than ‘does Azula deserve a redemption arc’ is ‘can Azula be redeemed, and if so, then how’?

With the argument that Azula “wasn’t that bad”, people try to divorce how Azula was a victim of abusive circumstances from how Azula was also a perpetrator of violence. These two things can be, and are, both true at the same time. Azula’s sense of morals is undeniably shaped by her childhood and her father, but the choices she makes are still the choices she makes. The question of redemption for Azula boils down to if Azula’s actions are a result of nature vs. nurture. Does Azula, at her core, have, or could she learn to have, a conscience?

For a redemption arc, it would not be enough to claim Azula only ever acted on her father’s orders, because Azula never disagrees, even privately, with what her father is doing (with the exception of when Ozai says she doesn’t get to come along during the invasion). There are no moments where Azula is shown struggling between her need to please her father and her sense of right and wrong. There are no moments that show Azula burying empathy in order to follow immoral instructions. On the contrary, she is shown to be a master tactician who is actively involved in plotting steps toward a Fire Nation victory. Azula single handedly creates and puts in motion the plan that is successful in conquering Ba Sing Se, and when she is successful in capturing the city and, apparently, killing Aang, she is not in conflict over her actions, but pleased.

In order for Azula to “redeem” herself, she would first have to feel guilty enough over something she has done to want to change her behavior. However, in the show Azula does horrendous things without any remorse. What is Azula’s moral threshold for something that is too evil for her to consider doing it? She murdered a child (Aang), and was only unsuccessful because Katara was able to save him, and Azula shot lightning at Katara with the full knowledge that it would hit either Zuko or Katara and severely injure or kill them. If Azula isn’t bothered by the idea of murdering a child or a family member in pursuit of her goals, then the question becomes what would finally push Azula to have an “oh god what have I done” moment? What could Azula do that would cause her to finally think she’s gone too far?

The only time that Azula seems to regret an action she has taken is in “The Beach” (3.05) when she apologizes to Ty Lee after making her cry. However, in Ty Lee’s first episode, 2.03 “Return to Omashu”, when Ty Lee doesn’t immediately agree to join Azula, Azula places Ty Lee in danger in order to pressure her, and in 3.15 “The Boiling Rock part 2”, Azula has Ty Lee arrested and put in prison after Ty Lee betrays her. So despite showing guilt in connection to Ty Lee one time, Ty Lee is still not someone that Azula is willing to make major changes for. During the course of AtLA, there is nothing or no one that Azula seems to be unwilling to sacrifice in pursuit of her goals. So who or what could be enough to make Azula want to change or regret her behavior?

People who argue that Azula “wasn’t that bad” have either misunderstood the show, or are displaying deep empathy for a character who they see as molded by tragic circumstances. As a consequence of her actions, for which Azula did not demonstrate remorse or a moral struggle, Azula is “that bad”. Arguably, that makes her one of the most complex and interesting characters in AtLA. After all, how can you possibly outmaneuver someone who seemingly lacks a limit to what they’re willing to do in order to achieve their goals? How can you outmaneuver someone who is able to recognize the weaknesses you have because of your empathy and exploit them to their advantage? Which is why, despite beginning to slip into insanity, Azula still almost wins the final Agni Kai. Zuko and Katara face a handicap that Azula does not; if at all possible they want to subdue her without killing her, and they will compete in the Agni Kai according to the rules. Azula feels no such restrictions, and when she realizes she can’t win fairly, Azula is able to turn Zuko’s connection to Katara into an almost fatal weakness.

Creating a convincing redemption arc for Azula would not be impossible, but it would be challenging. Azula would have to reach a level of empathy that she doesn’t exhibit during AtLA. This is not to say that there are zero moments within the show that could be interpreted as Azula showing compassion, but that they are not frequent enough to suggest that as being Azula’s true hidden nature. There is an interesting moment worth mentioning in 3.20 “Sozin’s Comet pt. 3” when Azula hallucinates a conversation with her mother:

Azula: Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster.

Ursa: I think you're confused. All your life you used fear to control people, like your friends Mai and Ty Lee.

Azula: Well what choice do I have?! Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.

Ursa: No. I love you, Azula. I do.

Her mother is right to describe Azula as “confused”. Azula, up until this point, has had a very simple way of dealing with things - she works for her goals through whatever means necessary, and she is usually successful. Now for the first time, Azula is facing true defeat. Outwardly she has achieved everything she could hope for, but she does not feel satisfied, isn’t able to understand why, and can’t come up with a plan that would change this. Azula is aware that she uses fear to manipulate people, but it is only through this hallucination of her mother that it is hinted that subconsciously, Azula may realize that this is a negative thing. Unfortunately, these ideas do not have time to develop further so there is no way to confirm if this is the intended interpretation of that dialogue. Perhaps if there had been a book 4… It does lend itself to the theory that Azula may be more complicated under the surface than has previously been let on.

There’s a great fantasy book series called A Court of Thorns and Roses (it has fantastic Zutara vibes btw, 10/10 recommend). The reason I bring this series up is because the main character in the series has a sister with whom she has a very strained relationship. A Court of Thorns and Roses is a trilogy, but there’s a sequel book called A Court of Silver Flames that focuses on the main character’s sister. This book is not a redemption book exactly. It follows the sister as she slowly comes to understand the hurt that she has caused others, comes to grips with the complicated relationship she had with her father, heals from the traumas she faced helping fight in the war, and learns to love herself while also learning that she is a person worthy of being loved. The book does not attempt to excuse the harm that the sister caused those around her, or to completely change her character. The sister’s path is incredibly messy, and the book is over 700 pages long because convincingly writing an arc where a character goes through this type of change takes time. I think if Azula were to have a redemption arc, it would be something more like this than a traditional redemption.

So, do I think an Azula redemption is possible? Yes. But it would be challenging to do it in a convincing, and satisfactory manner that doesn’t attempt to retcon some part of Azula’s characterization in AtLA. If successful though, it could be a phenomenal story, and one I’d very much like to see.

(side note because it didn’t fit elsewhere: I love modern AUs that have Azula as snarky and the HBIC without being evil. I think it’s a fun take on her character.)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #in case it isn't clear I think Azula's a really cool character #look I wrote a thing

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morganwrites-starwars · 2 years

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Vod bal aliit pt. 1

Summary: Luke Vader was an enigma that Leia was determined to solve. He was also apparently her brother. Which was... Well, it was something Leia hadn't been ready for.

A/N: Another side story for 'I stand here right before you'. It might make sense if you haven't read that- I don't really know.

Masterlist

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Leia hated Empire Day. There were no ifs ands or buts about it. She hated spending her birthday surrounded by stuck-up senators, Moffs, and their kids with over-inflated egos. Leia decidedly preferred the way they celebrated every year before this one when she got to spend her birthday at home on Alderaan. While publicly, their family still celebrated Empire Day- appearances and all that- privately, mother and father had always thrown her a party. There was cake and presents and the overwhelming feeling of being loved and cared for unconditionally.

There were no such things at the party on Imperial Center. Instead of warm hugs, Leia was stuck curtseying at every person she met, her cheeks aching from her plastered smile. Leia couldn’t decide what she disliked more- the obvious shared disdain from her age-mates or the creepy pedophile vibes she got from the adults. If she had to listen to one more person tell her she was looking to be a beautiful woman when she was fully grown, she was going to…

Do nothing. But she was definitely going to imagine decking them.

And the worst thing of all was the Emperor. The best way to describe how he made Leia feel was slimy. His grandfatherly façade was ill-fitting with his hidden face and croaking voice. Her father said that it had fit better during the Clone Wars. It was hard to imagine.

Leia smiled politely at the Emperor, pushing all her negative thoughts behind the shield that Fulcrum had helped her build some time ago. Fortunately, the Emperor played her little mind beyond asking her how she was enjoying her day. Too young to be of interest, too old to stay at home.

Leia was not included in any of the conversations between the senators and the Emperor. Still, she avidly listened, taking mental notes on what was being said (or, more importantly, what wasn’t being said). Pretending to have only polite interest in the conversation was the hardest thing she’d done all day. Leia wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to the day when they’d include her in the conversation or not.

The Emperor summoned a servant and muttered an inaudible request. The servant nodded and slipped into the crowd. Maybe a minute later, the servant appeared, the Imperial Prince following behind him.

Father had told her this was also Luke Vader’s first official Empire Day appearance. Luke and Leia were the same age, so her father had her learn about the prince since a conversation between them was bound to happen. Leia could afford to go into most conversations with her agemates blind, but if she insulted the Imperial Prince…

But her father had given her a different reasoning, his words vague and severe. Her father only ever spoke like that when the Alliance was involved. Apparently, she was also old enough to be involved with Rebellion's plans.

So Leia would make friendly with Prince Luke, learn more about him, and hope that whatever plans were in the works were successful.

“And this is my daughter, Princess Leia,” her father introduced.

Leia curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness.”

Prince Luke gave a short bow. “And I, yours.”

The Emperor set one of his hands on Prince Luke’s shoulder when he straightened. Leia internally shivered at the thought of the Emperor touching her.

“Perhaps the two of you would prefer to get acquainted elsewhere? Get away from us old folks for a bit?” her father asked, prompting the other senators to chuckle.

Prince Luke looked at the Emperor and, when he received permission, stepped towards Leia with his arm extended. Leia rested her hand in the crook of the prince’s elbow, and the two walked away. The prince felt as tense as Leia was. Prince Luke led her to the side of the room, closer to the Purge Trooper- the person that the Rebel’s plans were centered around- that was stationed at the wall. Leia suppressed a shiver at the expressionless black and red helmet. Leia had no idea how the prince dealt with it constantly.

Leia didn’t say anything, as it was proper to let the person of a higher standing start the conversation. Prince Luke glanced over at the Purge Trooper in a movement Leia would have missed if she hadn’t observed the prince’s face intently. He had the same polite façade with barely hidden boredom that Leia knew was reflected on her face.

Leia wouldn’t say she had high hopes for their conversation, but she figured it’d be better than most of the ones she’d had today. Despite being the Imperial Prince, Prince Luke was not a very public figure yet. But what information Leia could glean about his personality (at least his public one) showed that he seemed to be a nice enough person.

After a few moments, Luke spoke. “So Princess, is this your first Empire Day on Coruscant?”

“Yes, this year, my father deemed me old enough to attend. He worried I would get lost if I was younger.” Among other things that Leia couldn’t say.

Luke nodded in understanding, but he clearly didn’t know how to consider the conversation. Leia imagined it was because he didn’t spend much time around other people his age. It was definitely an acquired skill. After another moment of silence, he asked, “What is Alderaan like?”

Leia smiled at the unexpected question. She was half expecting the prince to talk about himself, a common trait many people Leia spoke to all had. Leia was more than happy to speak about Alderaan. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I’ve always loved watching the sun setting under the mountains around the palace! My favorite place is by far the Cloudshape Falls. The water’s spray makes it look as if there is a cloud resting at its base.”

Mother and Father tried to take her there at least once a year, no matter how busy they were. Some of Leia’s first memories were of feeling the water on her face and the feeling of amazement.

“That sounds wonderful,” Prince Luke said, and Leia was surprised to hear how genuine he sounded. He seemed very interested in what Leia had to say about Alderaan.

But no matter how much Leia could go on about Alderaan, it was not polite. So, instead, she said, “Oh, yes, it is. How about you, your grace?”

“Please, call me Luke,” Prince Luke, or just Luke, said. That was not something Leia was expecting. Leia considered him, assessing to see if this was some type of test. But, again, to Leia’s surprise, he seemed genuine.

Leia decided to go with it, as it was always better to follow the lead of a person of higher standing. “Alright, Luke. Only if you will call me Leia.”

Luke smiled, the most genuine one he’d given so far. Leia was very confused by him. “Agreed. Now, what was your question?”

“What is your home like?” Leia asked again, now a bit more interested in his answer.

“Ah,” Luke hesitated. Curiously, his eyes glanced over to the Purge Trooper by the wall. Now, what could that be about? Luke was becoming more and more interesting by the second. “Well, when I’m not on Coruscant, I am on my father’s starship. I love looking at the stars when we’re not in hyperspace.” Luke smiled a little awkwardly. “There’s not really sunsets in space. But they’re nice on Coruscant.”

Leia pursed her lips. That sounded horrible, spending your life almost always trapped on a ship surrounded by the blank faces of the stormtroopers and other Imperials. Frankly, it sounded like Leia’s own personal hell. But Luke seemed unbothered by it. “That sounds a bit lonely if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Luke shrugged a little sheepishly. “It wasn’t so bad. I like traveling to different planets. And I have Cody.” Luke gestured to the Purge Trooper. Leia looked over at the Purge Trooper, Cody apparently, and he gave her a slight nod in recognition. Leia returned the nod with a polite smile on instinct. The mystery that was Luke was growing by the minute. Apparently, the Purge Trooper was more than just a bodyguard. Luke showed no dislike or disdain for the Purge Trooper lingering over his shoulder. Leia supposed that Cody would have to be a decent person for the Rebellion to want to help him. He was still intimidating. “He keeps me safe from threats and from boredom.”

“That’s good. Everyone deserves a friend,” was all Leia could think to say. Or least, it was the only polite thing she could think of. Because how lonely life must be, to only have one person keep you company? Even Leia, who was generally separated from most of the populace by the nature of her status, had multiple people she considered friends. And they all had different roles in her life, the guards in the palace playing just one position. A friendly one, for sure, but not as friends.

Luke nodded. He didn’t notice what was wrong with everything about his situation. “Yeah. He’s been taking care of me since I came to live with my father.”

Leia cocked her head in curiosity. Ok, there was a lot to unpack there. Leia was not surprised that Lord Vader was a bad father. But that also added the factor that Luke would not let Cody go quietly. Leia figured that was where she factored in. A distraction, perhaps. Leia really hated being left out of the bigger plan.

“Do you mind if I ask if you lived somewhere else?”

The question broke basically every rule about speaking to royalty that Leia had ever been taught. But, if she didn’t ask it, she was liable to keep pushing about Luke’s current living situation. And that was more likely to lead to Luke being offended. And father had also tasked her with gathering more information on Luke, so Leia figured she could be forgiven for the lack of decorum.

Luke looked around nervously, his shoulders tensing. Leia quickly prepared to backtrack, Luke’s response startling Leia. She hadn’t expected that strong of an adverse reaction from her question. But before Leia could apologize and redirect, Luke’s shoulders relaxed, saying, “I lived on Tatooine until I was four with my aunt and uncle.”

“Oh,” Leia said, caught off guard, both by the fact that he responded and the actual response itself. Tatooine was, well, Leia didn’t know much about the Outer Rim desert planet. Just that people didn’t tend to enjoy going there and that slavery was still rampant there.

Luke chuckled, seemingly agreeing with her unsaid thoughts about Tatooine. “Yeah. I don’t remember a lot about it. Just that it was a lot of sand. Like a lot.”

They both laughed. Leia commented. “Sand is nice. On the beach.”

“Sometimes I think I can still feel sand all over,” Luke faked a shiver. Leia was surprised by her own enjoyment. Leia hadn’t gone into this party with any expectation of enjoying herself.

Before their conversation could continue, someone started yelling. Leia tensed, her heart beating in her ears. Not out of fear but out of understanding that the Alliance’s plan was beginning. Ok, so it was a bit of fear, but not for her safety. Luke shifted towards her, both of them staring at the balcony. The Purge Trooper, Cody- Leia really needed to start referring to him with his name lest she accidentally just call him ‘the purge trooper’- reached them, blaster pulled out.

The lights turned off, and the room shook. Leia could smell the smoke and again really wished her father had told her more of the plan.

Leia would never admit it, but she jumped when Cody placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her and Luke closer to him, his armor digging into her side uncomfortably. At least she wasn’t going to have to fight to stay with Luke. It wouldn’t have been easy to follow a fully trained Purge Trooper quietly. Leia would get an easy way to keep her eye on Luke and see the Rebellion’s plan in action.

Cody dropped his hand from her shoulder, much to Leia’s relief. They didn’t move for a moment, and Leia listened to the sound of yelling and people rushing around her. Occasionally she felt fabric brush her arm, and people tried to run away. Leia was actually glad she was kept close to the larger Purge Trooper. She would have easily gotten turned around in the dark otherwise.

Cody began to steer Luke and Leia towards the side of the ballroom, and Leia recalled the blueprint she had seen. He seemed to be taking them to a side exit. He ushered them into the tight, dimly lit hallway. Luke shuffled closer to Leia, their shoulders brushing, and Cody closed and locked the door. And, in a move that Leia both understood and felt was a little much, he shot the lock with his blaster.

“Where are we going?” Leia asked quietly as Cody began to move them down the hallway. He stayed behind them until they reached a corner.

“To safety,” Cody replied shortly, stepping in front of Luke and Leia. Cody lifted his blaster up and paused. Leia strained to hear anything. Cody didn’t seem to hear anything as well, as he quickly turned the corner, blaster up. Cody deemed it safe and gestured for Luke and Leia to continue following him.

They continued in a similar fashion, hurrying along the narrow hallways before coming to quick stops. Leia had to walk faster than Luke and Cody since she was shorter than both of them. At least Cody saved her the humiliation of pulling her along or just picking her up. Leia would probably punch him if he did. It would hurt her more than him, but it would be a gut response.

The silence was tense. Luke was exchanging concerned glances with her, both of them trying and failing to communicate their worries with hand signals. Clearly, they had been taught different types of non-verbal communication. Given a chance, Leia would quiz him on what the hell his signs were supposed to mean. Because, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what the tapping of Luke’s fists together was supposed to mean. At least Luke seemed equally confused at her attempts to ask about where they were heading.

Eventually, they reached a door, Leia having been lost for the last few minutes. Cody paused to listen before opening the door, positioning his body to block Luke and Leia from view. Cody stepped into the hallway, but Luke placed a hand on her shoulder to keep Leia in place. They followed into the hallway at Cody’s gesture, the waving of his hand making sense to Leia. Maybe Luke was just really bad at hand signals.

They were in a lavishly decorated hallway. Across the hall was an unassuming door, but it was apparently where they were going. Probably the rooms Luke stayed in when he was on the Imperial Center.

Luke opened the door at Cody’s request, Leia sandwiched between him and Cody. Once the door opened, Cody stepped forward, aiming his blaster at the door. Leia followed at the back of their group as they crept in. The cautiousness was seeping into paranoia, in Leia’s opinion. But she supposed when you’re at the heart of the Empire, you can never be too careful.

“Stay here,” Cody told them. He went towards a hallway at the other end of the room.

Leia was examining the room. It was sparsely decorated, which made sense since Luke said he spent most of his time in space. There was a jacket thrown over the couch and datapads lying on the table in front of it.

Luke was tense next to her. He was frowning, biting his bottom lip, and looking around.

“Luke, what’s wrong?” Leia asked.

“I’m not sure,” Luke said, sounding strained. “Something feels… weird.”

Leia was confused, but she remembered that Luke was Force-sensitive, so maybe he could tell that the Alliance’s plan was about to reach a climax.

“A bad weird?” Leia asked, hoping that she could distract Luke enough that he didn’t disrupt the plan was.

Luke shrugged, but there was a knock on the door before he could say anything. Leia flinched back on instinct. Luke pushed Leia behind him, further away from the door, and held his hand out. Leia watched in amazement as a metal tube- a lightsaber!- flew into Luke’s grasp. Luke held the lightsaber in front of him, pointing at the door.

“Cody!” Luke called out. Cody quickly appeared from the hallway, his blaster already in his hand.

There was another knock before anyone said anything else, followed by a whisper, “Luke? Cody? Are you there? It’s Ossea.”

Oh, that was good. Ossea was the agent tasked with getting close and gathering information on Cody. If she is here, then the plan must be going well.

Cody turned on the small video screen to the side of the door. The screen showed a birds-eye view of the empty hallway. Ossea was leaning close to the door.

Luke moved forward and cut off Cody, opening the door for Ossea to slip in before locking it behind her.

Leia was sort of shocked by Luke’s easy trust. Really, regardless if he trusted Ossea, he is on lockdown. Well, at least it made Leia’s job easier since she didn’t have to convince Luke to let Ossea in so she could do whatever Ossea needed to do.

Ossea hugged Luke and shot a small smile at Leia, which Leia returned. Cody seemed to be quietly seething.

“I was so worried. When the attack happened, I was in my workshop and heard them coming closer. This was the safest place I could think of,” Ossea said, smoothing a hand over Luke’s hair before pulling away from their hug. She looked at Cody and opened her mouth to say something else. Before she could, Cody stalked away, back to the hallway.

Yeah, he was pissed.

Leia only felt a little bad about her amusement.

“What’s wrong with Cody?” Ossea asked Luke.

“Oh, he’s just like that sometimes. I call it his battle mode,” Luke told her.

“Battle-mode, huh?” Ossea asked with a slightly teasing tone. Leia was confused at the weird term, and her pity for Luke came back 10-fold.

“Yeah, he gets very focused if he thinks I’m in danger,” Luke said while shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the topic, so Leia tried to look reassuring and non-judgmental. She wasn’t judging Luke (or Cody, she supposed); she was judging Vader and the Empire. “He did it more when I was younger and couldn’t protect myself at all.”

Ossea hummed in understanding, but Leia couldn’t stop her slight frown because that had some implications that Leia wasn’t a fan of.

“He is a good man. He cares very much for you,” Ossea said, smiling softly. “I’ll go see what his plans are.”

Ossea walked towards the hallway that Cody had gone into. Leia quickly took a deep breath, adrenaline being to pump full force in her veins. It was time. Luke looked lost in thought, and Leia wanted to distract him so Ossea could do what she needed to. And she wanted answers to her questions.

“When did you learn to protect yourself?” Leia asked, and she hoped it was more recently. Leia had started learning self-defense maybe 2 years ago. Before then, she was taught evasive techniques. She was fortunate enough to have never been attacked- her family being well-loved on Alderaan.

Luke thought about the answer for a moment. “I guess I started training formally when I was eight, after I met the Emperor for the first time. But I didn’t get my lightsaber until I was 10.”

That was the answer Leia was afraid of. Because no 10 year old needs a lightsaber. No 8-year-old’s safety should be so compromised that he had learned to fight before he was even close to puberty.

Before Leia could ask him more questions, Luke ran to the hallway where Ossea and Cody were. Leia let out a confused noise and quickly followed after him, struggling to keep up. She didn’t want Luke to react violently and hurt Ossea. That would definitely derail everything.

Luke came to a running stop outside a door, Leia barely stopping herself from running into his back. Leia peaked around Luke and saw Ossea was kneeling next to Cody’s body, holding Cody’s blaster. Leia’s heart jumped into her throat, but she reassured herself that Ossea hadn’t shot Cody. There hadn’t been a noise of the blaster going off, and there was no smoke coming from the blaster or from Cody. And there was no way the Rebellion was planning to kill Cody if they were trying to get Luke’s trust (at least that was Leia’s current conclusion of her purpose). Leia didn’t understand Luke’s attachment to Cody, but she knew that killing Cody was cruel and unnecessary. And it would like cause Luke to go on some rampage. And Leia reasoned her father would never put her in that kind of potential danger.

“Buir!” Luke cried. Leia took note of the unfamiliar word for later. Luke turned on his lightsaber, and Leia had to stop herself from gasping at that gold-orange blade that emerged. Leia had only seen Fulcrum’s lightsaber once during their few months together. Leia had begged and begged, and on their last day together, Fulcrum had turned on one of her white sabers. Leia had felt the same amazement as a 7-year-old as she does now. Lightsabers were amazing, their humming setting off a warm feeling in her chest.

Ossea didn’t look scared as she gently set down the blaster. Luke demanded, “What did you do?”

Ossea slowly rose from her crouch and held her hands out in the traditional ‘I surrender’ pose.

“It’s ok,” Ossea said in a soothing voice. Leia had a feeling that it was as much for Luke as it was for Leia. Ossea seemed to have noticed Leia’s frantic looks at Cody. Ossea took a small step further, but Luke just held his saber high and stepped back. Luke reached a hand back towards Leia, and Leia brushed her hand against his, hoping it was reassuring.

“Cody is ok. He’s just unconscious,” Ossea told Luke.

“Why? What are you doing?” Luke demanded.

Ossea sighed. “I’m with the Rebellion.” Ok, so apparently, they’re just being honest. Good to know. Luke tensed, and Leia heard a small creak as Luke tightened his grip on his lightsaber. “I want to help you and Cody.”

“By knocking him out?” Luke scoffed, shifting nervously. Yeah, Leia also was curious about that. Couldn’t there have been a way to reason with Cody? ‘Like, hey, we want to help save you and Luke, so come with us.’ That would've probably worked if Cody was as attached to Luke as Luke was to him.

“He wouldn’t be able to listen to my reasoning due to his ‘battle mode,’” Ossea explained, checking her watch. “He has a chip in his head.”

Ok. So that was a thing that Leia thinks she vaguely remembers hearing about once. Leia had met many clone troopers, and a quick glance at Cody’s exposed face confirmed that he was a clone. They all had a haunted look in their eyes, twitching at any type of orders. Rex had tried to explain it to her one time, but Leia asked him to stop when his eyes began to glaze over as he recounted his fight against his orders to shoot Fulcrum.

Leia suddenly felt more sympathy for Cody.

“I know that,” Luke told Ossea, much to Leia’s surprise. Leia wouldn’t have guessed that Luke would’ve been ok with someone he cared about being mind-controlled. As far as Leia could tell, he just didn’t seem like that kind of person. Anger began to rise in Leia as she considered that maybe she was wrong about Luke. “What’s it got to do with anything?”

Ossea sighed. “It’s a control chip- Cody’s ‘battle-mode’ isn’t Cody. It’s a soldier with no feelings, only dedicated to the Empire. It makes him a human droid.”

Oh. Oh, poor Luke. Leia could see him tensing at that information. Leia felt her minor rage at Luke quickly dissipate. Luke’s hands dropped, no longer pointing his lightsaber directly at Ossea. Leia took a tiny step towards Luke and brushed her hand against his again, hoping to offer a modicum of comfort.

“We can help him,” Ossea spoke. Luke raised his saber up again. “We’ve figured out a way to get it out- to free him.”

“And ‘we’ is the Rebellion?” Luke softly, sounding tired yet hopeful. Leia could see Ossea’s face soften when she heard Luke’s tone. He sounded so young, and Leia was suddenly reminded that she and Luke were the same age.

“Yes,” Ossea answered, just as soft. Luke’s tension left him, and he turned his lightsaber off. Luke curled in on himself slightly. Leia hated feeling so helpless.

“You’ll help buir? You won’t hurt him?” Luke asked, all suspicion gone from his tone. He didn’t sound like a prince, a strong force user, or any other titles forced upon him. He sounded like a child scared for their parent’s safety. Maybe that was what buir meant.

Ossea nodded, and Luke took a deep breath, straightening his posture, falling back into a proper mask. Luke nodded and clipped his lightsaber to his belt. “OK. You can take him and help him. I will cover you so you may get away.”

“No!” Leia exclaimed, pushed her way past Luke, and put her hands on her hips. There was no kriffing way that she was leaving Luke, her friend, alone in the Empire after everything she's learned. “You’re not leaving Luke here alone. My father would not allow that.”

And Leia knew it was true. When Leia would tell him about Luke and Cody’s connection, one she still didn’t completely understand, and how kind Luke was (he had kept protecting her, even when he was distracted), father would immediately call for a vote for the Rebellion to save Luke. But they would probably say no because there was no doubt after this, the Empire’s security and Luke’s security would increase dramatically. So they needed to get him out now.

“Don’t worry, your highness,” Ossea assured Leia as she moved over to open the window in the room. “There was no intention of leaving Prince Luke here.”

Leia released a breath as Ossea began to heft Cody up, but grunted under his weight. Good. Leia was considering just smuggling Luke out with her now, otherwise. Luke rushed forward to help Ossea carry Cody. They leaned him against the wall by the window. Leia stayed close by the door.

“Why were you planning on taking me?” Luke asked, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, and Leia suppressed a scoff. Leia knew that sometimes mistreated and abused people didn’t realize they were being abused. That was probably the case with Luke, so Leia wouldn’t judge him.

Ossea apparently seemed to agree with Leia’s thought if the look she shot at Luke was any indication. “Luke. This is not the place for a person to grow up. I am 100% confident Cody is the only reason you’re not, and pardon my language, a kriffing menace.”

Luke didn’t respond, but he did look slightly sheepish. Good, at least he had some sense that his situation was shitty.

A ship appeared outside the window, the boarding ramp extended. Corrine walked down the ramp carefully, nodded at Leia slightly when they made eye contact. Leia nodded back. Corrine and Ossea hefted Cody through the window, Luke watching with a lost look on his face. Leia wanted to hug him or something. His tooka eyes were so pitiful.

When Cody was being dragged up the boarding ramp, Luke began to leave. But he stopped halfway out the window, looking at Leia with a frown.

“Are you coming?”

Leia shook her head but smiled slightly at his concern. “The rebels would have no reason to abduct me. I’ll go and try to cover for you before finding my father. Good luck.”

Leia ran out of the room and paused in the living room. She heard a crash from the room, but there was no yelling, so she assumed it was fine. Leia knew she was on the clock now. Any minute, stormtroopers would be storming the room. Leia took a breath, apologized mentally to Luke for the mess she was going to make, and began throwing pillows, knocking over tables or chairs, and generally creating an environment that indicated an abduction.

When Leia was content with the state of the rooms, she found the refresher in the hallway and attached a mini-EMP that she had been hiding in her belt. She set the EMP to detonate and destroy the doorpad in 1 minute. She sent a signal to her father before dropping and crushing her comm. Leia stepped into the refresher, and the door slid close behind her. Leia waited to hear the EMP go off. She steeled herself and hit the door multiple times, wincing as her knuckles split when she punched the door once. Leia didn’t try to stop the tears that began to fall. Leia also sped up her breathing to induce a panicked state. She kicked the door a good few times. She was nothing if not thorough.

She sniffed and wiped her nose, cringing at the feel of some snot on her skin. Leia fell to her knees in front of the door and waited, keeping her tears flowing. She listened carefully, and when she heard the stomping of feet, the tell-tale shuffle of stormtrooper armor, the harsh breathing of Darth Vader that sent a shiver up Leia’s spine. Leia double-checked her mental shields.

“Help!” Leia yelled, slamming her hands against the door again. “Please, I’m trapped! Help!”

Multiple people ran towards her. Leia knocked again on the door. “In the fresher! I’m in here!”

“Hold on, your Highness,” someone told her from the other side of the door. “You! Go get-“

Before the man could continue, the door creaked and began to crumple and fold in on itself like a piece of paper. Leia reeled back in shock, her panic becoming real. Leia fell onto her bottom, and the door, which no longer looked anything like a door, was dropped on the floor beside the doorframe.

Darth Vader was looming in the door frame, his rasping breaths clearly unnerving everyone. In one of his hands, he had an unlit lightsaber. The sight of it brought terror, the exact opposite feeling seeing Luke’s lightsaber brought. His presence was suffocating, and Leia was frozen on the floor.

“Where is my son?” Vader demanded.

Leia released a shaky breath and managed to get to her feet. Leia clasped her hands in front of her to hide her trembling. “There was a woman- she apparently knew the Prince. She, Prince Luke, he let her in. And she, she knocked out the, uh, the trooper and locked me in here. I don’t- I don’t know what she did with Luke. I think I heard a ship-“

Leia cut herself off with a shaky breath. Vader seemed satisfied with her response, and he stormed away. Leia ignored the twinge of irritation.

“Assure the Princess’ health and return her to her father,” Vader commanded before he disappeared from sight.

The command spurred the stormtroopers into action. They stepped back from the door, except for one with an orange pauldron. He stepped forward.

“Captain Gess, your highness,” the captain introduced himself while saluting. Leia nodded in acknowledgment, and he returned to parade rest. “Are you alright, Princess?”

Leia nodded, wiping off the tears that lingered on her face. “I am alright. I may need some bacta for my hands, however.”

The captain nodded when Leia showed him her bloodied knuckles. “Understood. We will have a medic examine you while we wait for Senator Organa.”

“Understood. Let us make our way there now. I imagine my father is worried,” Leia said, following the captain out of the fresher. Leia made it a point to subtly glance around the messy room with discomfort. She saw no sign of Vader in the rooms, but she could feel the stares of stormtroopers as they walked past.

Leia held her head high as they traveled to a hastily set up triage center in the hallways and rooms surrounding the medical wing within the palace. Leia looked at the people occupying the cots as they passed. Many were covered in dust and blood. The aristocrats were disgruntled, huffing and puffing about being forced to wait for a medic to look over their minor scrapes and bruises. They did not care that there were people who were more injured- Leia spotted someone being carried past with red staining the side of their head. Leia everted her eyes, her stomach rolling with a combination of nerves, lingering adrenaline, and with the sight of so much blood.

Despite her insistence that she could wait, Leia was led directly to a stretcher in the medical wing. It wasn’t a room, but the nurse who met them pulled curtains around the bed for privacy. Leia could see the captain walk away, but the other trooper that had walked her here stayed stationed outside.

She assessed Leia’s hands, assuring her that Leia hadn’t appeared to have broken any bones. She gently wiped Leia’s knuckles with an alcohol pad and covered her knuckles in bacta patches. Leia had just informed the nurse- Saima she had introduced herself as- that she had kicked a door a few times when she heard her name being called.

“Leia? Where is my daughter?”

Leia perked up at the sound of her father. Someone clearly directed him towards her because in the next second, the curtain opened, and her father rushed in. He looked a bit disheveled and worried. There was still a light brushing of dust covering her father’s coat.

“Leia!” father smiled when he spoke. He moved to the empty side of the bed, hands hovering over her, not wanting to touch her if she was hurt. Leia could see he was genuinely worried- likely, he had not expected any sort of injury to happen.

“Princess Leia looks to be in perfect health, Senator,” Saima assured father. “She has only sustained minor abrasions to her hands, and I was just about to do a kick check of her feet.”

“I was locked in a fresher and punched and kicked the door,” Leia said, acting sheepish.

Her father looked at her with a fond and exasperated expression. “I am just glad those rebels left you unharmed. That is all I could ask for.”

Leia grabbed one of her father’s hands and squeezed it. She smiled at her father’s answering squeeze as Saima quickly scanned her feet.

“Some minor bruising, but no cracks or breaks,” Saima said as she began to clean up. “I would say you are as healthy as can be, Princess. However, you are welcome to wait for a medic to give a second opinion if you wish.”

Leia had no interest in that as it was completely unnecessary. She could see the poorly hidden relief on Saima’s face when she said so.

Saima left, pulling back the curtain behind her. The stormtrooper saluted Leia and her father when they moved toward him.

“Senator, Princess, I am to escort you to your next location,” the trooper reported, holding the salute.

Father rested a comforting hand on Leia’s shoulder and nodded at the trooper. Father began to gently steer them out of the medbay, the trooper following a step behind.

“Very well. We will return to our ship and go back to Alderaan,” Father said as they exited the medbay at an increased pace. “I imagine my wife is worried sick about us at the moment. And you know what they say about worrying your wife…” father trailed off.

“Uh, yes, sir,” the trooper agreed, clearly having no idea. “Do you need someone to gather your belongings?”

Father waved his free hand. “No, my people have already begun to do so and will bring our things to our ship.”

There was no more talking as they reached their ship. They were greeted by Captain Bymarin, who smiled and said, “I am relieved to see you both safe and unharmed.”

The trooper saluted once more and was dismissed by Leia’s father. They followed Captain Bymarin up the ramp. He assured them that their bags would be there in a few more minutes and advised them to relax and get settled.

Leia and her father parted ways just outside their respective rooms. Neither of them would say anything about what had happened beyond more assurances the other was alright. As long as they were on Imperial Center, not a word would be uttered about the Rebellion.

Father hugged her tight and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I am so very proud of you, Leia. You were very brave today.”

“Thank you,” Leia muttered in response before yawning. Father pulled back with a chuckle.

“Go get some rest. Wouldn’t want your mother to think I’ve been keeping you up,” father nudged her towards her room. “We will speak more later.” With a final goodbye, Leia entered her room and felt every last bit of energy leave her as the door closed.

She had half a mind to remove her shoes, belt, and jewelry before curling up under her comforter. She promised herself she would insist that she was able to see Luke again. She didn’t know why or how, but Luke had grown on her, and she was worried for him. He was alone, his guardian unconscious, surrounded by people who, at best, didn’t care much about him and, at worst, hated him.

But in order to make a convincing argument, Leia needed rest. So she let herself fall asleep, listening to the faint noises of the ship and its inhabitants.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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Masterlist

#star wars #clone wars #leia and luke #leia organa #luke skywalker #imperial luke skywalker #bail organa #commander cody #cc 2224 #purge trooper cody #pov leia #emotional hurt/comfort #rebel alliance #fluff #sibling bonding #Aliit ori'shya tal'din

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