#“oh what if he commits a crime” well he does
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Hiyori is the most effective person to complete their kill so far
#kid is having flashbacks over struggled breathing and silence its so over.... omg that was so good.....#nvm kid has TWO women on his crew... he is on par with luffy now... law... 👁👁#omg her arm is broken..... THE BONES???? jesus#good technique but what is law cutting..... now thats something else big mom..... damn... cant law shambles kid out of there.... poor man#oh that was a good one law.... but kid is OUT also WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SWORD GOING????? he is getting haki punched all over the body...#and what does that do law.... what the hell.... oh i was thinking that..... goodbye big mom.... funny how all of the big guns have been yee#ed of the island.... also wdym to be continued.... goddamn. well next episode then#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1066#i have been saying kid should have repelled her out of the island 🤷🏻♀️🤷🏻♀️ can't help it if my brain is so big..... well nvm...#big mom saying they like her.... jusg like kaido said to luffy akdhsk#oh jeez soul pocus.... oh nvm CORA INSPIRED ATTACK????#yamato be careful omg.... fuck it kanjuros fire thing is dying hell yes.... BIG MOM OUT!!! HELL YES!!!!! 67 children orphaned just like tha#also who was the brave soul that asked roger about hia treasure..... absolute legend.....#wdym you can find the one piece in wano... what the hell is big mom spewing....ohhh i get it i get it.. she found it...#it really is the friends she made along the way.... but she can't see it..... too focused on the lava pit she is falling into...#omg and no one notices because of the silento..... that was such a slay.....#PAUSE. zunisha was a joyboy friend who commited a crime??? how does momo know about joyboy.... the diary?? oden knew??? i forgor#episode 1067#franky got zoro.... no izo noooo....... why..... PRIORITIES!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO WHYYYYYYY!!!!!! IZO WHYYYYYYYY!!!#marco saying he is tried of helping people and will just chill there.... IZO IS DEAD!!!! MARCO????!!!!! if big mom is dead how is zeus stil#drake you better kill that man take izo and run.... why are you playing in a moment like this akdhaksj... girl she is going to kill you#YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!! SHE GOT HIM!!!!! SHE GOT HIM!!!! FUCK YES!!!!!!!!! HELL YEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!! FUCK THAT MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!#FUCK YEAHHH HIYORI!!!!!! THE SONG!!!!!#episode 1068#YEAAAH DRAKE GET HIM!!!!! oh shit in the neck....#luffy got eaten again..... oh jesus....#NOT EVEN KAIDO LIKES THE CP0 BUT HE GOT LUFFY!!!! KAIDI REGRETS IT EVEN!!!! EXACTLY!!! izo died trying to get them to stop#episode 1069
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I love my mom but she’s such a fucking liberal
#ok I’m honestly surprised that my dad seems to be more sympathetic to the Palestinians than my mom#like my mom is all like ‘it’s awful but.. but hamas 😔’ you know like a typical filthy liberal#but my dad was like ‘oh shit damn and fuck wish I could come to the protest with you’ (health problems prevented that)#I’m not pretending like my dad is some leftist champion or anything he’s literally a republican#but so far he’s shown more allyship to the cause than my mom - a democrat - has#and I’d feel more comfortable talking with him about activism#which I would never ever have expected#considering my mom in the past has expressed her disapproval of Israel#and refuses to ever go there#while my dad attended a diving trip in Israel#a long time ago granted but still#.txt#palestine#why does my mom claim to hate Israel so much but then argues with me#when I talk about the lies Israel tells#and I have to talk about it in the most mild spineless forgiving way possible if I want her to even listen to me#and when my mom is lowkey insinuating that I’m being antisemitic my dad points out how many Jews are at protests#why is my republican catholic boomer dad more understanding of the situation than my left leaning environmentalist mom#she’s always talking about environmental impact well what about all the chemicals and pollution that Israel is dumping into the environment#what about all the ecological crimes they’re committing?
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Tim Drake, Cheerleader Extraordinaire
Okay, hear me out: Tim deciding to try out for the college cheerleading team.
It starts out as a joke. Maybe Danny and Tim are at one of Danny’s football games, and Tim’s casually making some witty comment about the cheer routines. Danny, of course, being the chaotic boyfriend he is, goes, “Bet you couldn’t do half of that.”
Oh? well then, challenge accepted.
Tim’s been training for years—gymnastics, acrobatics, fighting crime on the regular—it’s not like a few flips and jumps are going to be any trouble for him. Plus, there’s something about the high-energy, peppy atmosphere that lowkey appeals to Tim. The chance to just let loose for a bit? Why not?
So, Tim being Tim, fully commits to the idea. He starts practicing routines, learning the cheers, and by the time tryouts roll around, he’s ready. Danny’s all supportive, of course, sitting in the bleachers with the biggest grin because this is Tim we’re talking about, and he’s about to blow everyone’s minds.
And he does.
The other cheerleaders? Absolutely shook. Tim’s out there pulling off flips, doing perfect jumps, and landing everything like he’s been doing this for years. He even throws in some crazy acrobatics just for the fun of it. Needless to say, Tim makes the team—no one can argue with those skills.
Then comes the uniform. The iconic moment.
Most of the men on the team wear shorts, but Tim, being Tim, decides to rock the skirt version of the uniform because why not? He likes the look, it’s more flexible, and he might as well commit to the whole look as well. And besides, he’s Tim Drake. He’s not going to let gender norms stop him from looking fabulous.
Cue Danny absolutely losing it.
Like, Danny was supportive before, but now? Oh no, now he’s flustered beyond reason. He didn’t expect this level of power move from Tim. When Tim shows up to the next game, wearing the cheerleading skirt, looking ridiculously good with those legs, flipping around with that same cool confidence—Danny can’t handle it. His brain? Fried. He can’t even focus on the game because every time Tim moves, Danny’s heart skips about three beats.
There’s a part of Danny that’s just beaming with pride because that’s his boyfriend out there, but there’s also this tiny, flustered part of him that’s a little jealous too. Now the whole campus gets to see how freaking amazing Tim looks in that cheer uniform, and Danny’s like, “Great, now I have to share this sight with the rest of the world.”
Tim, of course, notices. He can see Danny getting distracted on the field, shooting him these flustered glances, and Tim just smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and if wearing the skirt gets that kind of reaction from his boyfriend, he’s definitely keeping it.
The best part? After the game, when Danny finally gets a chance to pull Tim aside. He’s trying to play it cool, but it’s obvious that he’s still a little jealous and way too flustered. He wraps Tim in his varsity jacket, tugging him close and muttering something about how now everyone gets to see Tim like that—but then immediately follows it up with a kiss because he’s still Danny and loves every second of it.
And Tim? He’s living for it. The cheerleading, the attention, Danny’s flustered reactions—it’s all just too good. Now, every game, Tim rocks that skirt uniform, flips and cheers like the pro he is, and Danny’s just the supportive (and slightly jealous) boyfriend watching from the field.
They’re the campus couple—the star quarterback and his cheerleader boyfriend, always hyping each other up, and now, every time Danny looks over at Tim mid-game, he’s reminded that, yep, Tim’s his, skirt and all.
#brain dead#dead tired#danny fenton#tim drake#tim drake x danny fenton#they're the campus couple#they fuck nasty after every game while tim wears his skirt and dannys varsity jackey#danny loves his boyfriend very much#tim also loves his boyfriend very much#the batfam are completely shook when they go to their first game#they're beyond flustered that they're pretty bird looks so fucking pretty in a skirt
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hey sooooo I have a fic request for u babe! What about reader with Remus and it's like the first time she's sleeping over and she unexpectedly gets her period and she's like sorry I ruined our night I can go home and Remus is just like what?? No stay and just him soothing her through the cramps
Thank you for your request ml!
cw: period pains, mention of blood, brief allusion to mdni activities (though they truly could just have been making out if you want)
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 960 words
It’s rare, this early in your relationship, that you and Remus can sit down to watch a film and actually watch it. But it seems you’re both thoroughly spent from partaking in those other activities so frequently during the day, and now you’re both just winding down for the night, waiting to see who will admit to wanting to go to bed first.
Remus is just as content with this, your arm pressed against his and your head heavy on his shoulder, feeling your ribs expand and contract with relaxed breaths. He could get used to having you here. It’s taking more restraint than he could have imagined to keep himself from just offering you his spare key and begging you to come and go as you please.
“Oh, shit.”
It’s a whisper, not particularly alarmed, but the way your muscles go stiff tells Remus it’s not nothing. You sit up, taking your weight off of him.
“What is it?” he asks.
You don’t answer him at first, squeezing your eyes shut. Your expression is one of unmistakable mortification. You look agonized. Remus tries to let you have the time you need to think, but a worm of unease eats further into his gut with every second of your silence.
You push out an exhale that sounds laborious. When you open your eyes, there’s enough apology in them for a capital crime. Remus thinks that he’d probably forgive you if you told him you’d committed murder (and maybe that should scare him more than it does).
“I think I’ve just stained your couch,” you admit.
“Okay,” he says slowly. He doesn’t see the cause for such distress, but he also isn’t sure what you’re talking about. You’re not holding a drink, so how could you…oh. “Oh, is that all?”
His nonplussed reaction doesn’t seem to affect your unease. “I’m so sorry,” you say, wincing.
Remus tuts. “Don’t be, you can’t help it. Do you have anything with you, or do I need to nip to the store?”
“I’ve got stuff.” You stand to get your bag, turning to grimace at where you’d been sitting on the couch.
Remus’ reaction skews in the opposite direction. It’s only a splotch; by your response he’d been half convinced you were sitting in a veritable puddle of blood.
“I’m so sorry,” you say again. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’re alright, love,” Remus promises you. “Take whatever time you need.”
While you’re in the bathroom, he addresses the stain. Truly, it’s no great hassle. With friends like his it’s hardly the first trial his couch has faced, and besides that Remus has an unusual amount of experience with getting blood out of things.
It’s soaking when you come back, a small rag covering the spot from your view. You’ve changed into your pajamas, presumably because you’d stained your pants as well, but this is far from an unwelcome development. You look terribly cuddly.
“You alright?” Remus asks as you come back to stand by the couch.
“Yeah,” you say, somewhat quietly. You seem suddenly timid, like a guest in his home. He wants to hug you.
“Does it hurt?” he presses.
Your mouth pulls to the side, which is answer enough. “A little. It’s been hurting for a while, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it this early.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches for you, hiding his disappointment when you only put your hand in his. “That’s not a very nice surprise, is it?”
“No,” you agree with a halfhearted smile. When Remus squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back, and you at least seem up to holding his gaze even if you still look sheepish. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I can go home.”
“What?” A bit of hurt bullies its way into Remus’ tone. Your expression changes like you’re surprised to hear it. “No, I think you should stay.”
You look hesitant, so he tries again, gentler this time.
“I mean, if you’re hurting and you want to be in your own home, I understand,” Remus says, “but I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I’d like for you to be here.”
You watch his face as though looking for discrepancies. “Really?”
“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says earnestly. “Of course I’d love to keep you. Getting your period doesn’t change anything, except that now you’re in pain and I’d like even more for you to stay so I can be with you.”
The muscles around your eyes relax, your expression softening into something so tender Remus feels his own heart turn to mush.
He gives your hand a little tug, and you take the cue, sitting back down on the couch between his open legs.
“Can I put my hand here?” he asks you, touching your stomach.
“Sure,” you say, still somewhat timidly. You take his hand in yours, moving it down a couple inches until his fingers are skimming the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms. “But it’s more like here.”
“Oh, okay. Can I put my hand there?”
With your nod, Remus slips his hand beneath your waistband, to that plush stretch of skin between your belly button and your panty line. He presses down gently.
“Oh.” Your body goes lax.
Remus chuckles, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder. “That helps?”
“Yeah,” you sigh contentedly. “A lot, actually. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He pushes on a tense spot experimentally, rewarded when you sink further into his front. “Just don’t try to run out on me the next time something like this comes up, yeah?”
You agree readily. “Mhm. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this was going to happen.”
Remus smudges another kiss onto your shoulder, smug. “Just remember this then, I suppose.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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How are You doing that?
Captain Marvel transforming into random objects.
Villain: *committing crime*
Carvel: *hits them in his car form*
Fawcitzen: “Thank you Captain Carvel!”
Later…
Carvel: *parked to the side*
Tourist’s Kid: *runs up to him* “Mr. Car, are you like the Batmobile?”
Carvel: “No, no no no no no I’m Captain Carvel. I’m better than the Batmobile because I’m alive.”
Tourist’s Kid: “Oh… Cool!”
This was later caught on video by the Tourist Kid’s parents. As a result, one of the batkids sold the Batmobile and challenged Carvel to race.
Batfam Member(BM): “You cheated!”
Carvel: “Nuh uh.”
BM: “Uh Yuh huh! You can’t just fly over the track. You’re supposed to actually race!”
Carvel: “Well, you didn’t say I couldn’t fly.”
BM: “Why you-”
By the way, that Batfam member 100 percent thought they were actually just talking to a sentient car.
or
Mr. Mind: *on top of a building* “Muahahaha! It’s time to execute world domination-”
Jarvel: *scoops him up inside of him cause he’s shaped like a jar*
Mr. Mind: “What the… What in the world?!”
He does this to a lot of villains, mostly common goons and thugs and let me tell you, most of them leave that jar traumatized. Civilians have no idea why and Jarvel sure as heck doesn’t either but whatever.
Black Adam: *staring at Jarvel*
Jarvel: *sitting there*
Black Adam: *proceeds to leave because he really doesn’t want to deal with this and would rather come back when the Champion was saner*
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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]
Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.
“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”
Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.
“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.
Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.
“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”
It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.
“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”
“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.
Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.
The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.
He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.
He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.
Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.
“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”
“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”
“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”
“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.
Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.
Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.
“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”
“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”
“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"
Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.
"Where'd... ya get all of this?"
"Hmm... here and there."
Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."
Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."
Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.
"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."
"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."
"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."
Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.
----
"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"
Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.
"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."
Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.
----
Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...
"Hair-dye?"
Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.
"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."
Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"
"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.
"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.
"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.
Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.
Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.
Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?
"Fuck."
#danny phantom#batman#dc x dp#dpxdc#danny adopts jason todd#jason todd#bamf danny phantom#alley drunk! danny au#danny: i'm grieving#jason: wanna bet?#that's right jason's this universe's jazz fenton#this universe's danny fenton died and that's why danny can exist here without causing issues#danny: i have adopted a random child#danny: this child is jazz wtf
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okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.
ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.
it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.
"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.
also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????
reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.
ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.
IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.
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Woobification of Solas.
This is a fandom critical post. Proceed at your own risk.
Let me start this piece off by saying that this post is not meant to target a specific demographic of the fandom. If you feel targeted, that’s on you.
In this essay, I want to talk about the infantilization, woobification, or just good plain headcanoning the bad out of Solas. Mostly it comes down to a few of the most regurgitated lines of thinking: he is a spirit of wisdom despite everything he does or has done and he is just confused and perverted from his natural state, Solas is his true self while Fen’Harel or The Dread Wolf are just select masks he wears. The sentiment is so strong that at points it comes down to disregarding or ‘uncanoning’ the entire storyline of The Veilguard because in the minds of individuals that follow this school of thought it does injustice to the character of Solas they have created in their minds. In their minds, it is bad writing to show Solas being a prideful, treacherous liar.
Because the man, who led rebellion for centuries using dubious means, using creatures he claims to respect as if they are expandable, killing his closest confidant because he dared to oppose him outright somehow is a paragon of virtue that is just bent out of shape by his misguided loyalty. All the atrocities he has committed through thousands of years he had a physical form comes down to him being manipulated and emotionally abused by his former closest friend Mythal and later by grief and anger of losing her. Slapping the label of emotional distress and trauma on a perpetrator of … well, quite literally, war crimes, does make them more palatable, but it does not mean it should be seen as a normal practice. The acts Solas commits during the war with Titans, his rebellion against the Evanuris, and later on in current day Thedas are being construed as desperate actions of a broken man, wisdom twisted from his purpose and left to fend for himself, despite his self-induced isolation. So let me ask you this: how many acts of desperation does it take to realize that they are becoming choices?
Yes, he was manipulated through their shared emotional bonds by Mythal. Yes, he was coerced to leave his spirit form in favor of a physical body. Then Mythal used his wisdom as a weapon, warping him against his own beliefs, making him participate in the war in ways he did not wish to. Yes, he was pushed by Evanuris’ cruelty to rebel and then lost what he perceived as his only friend to their arrogant ways and later had to live through her death by their hands. He was broken to the point he could not see a way out and doomed the entire way of Elven existence just to win the fight against the cruel and the unjust. Yes, he is a man who lost his people and his version of the world due to his own actions. He is a traumatized, sad, lonely man, who has predetermined himself to the path from which he cannot see a way back. And yet, many of the steps he took along the way cannot be downplayed as acts of a spirit of Wisdom that was bent out of shape by grief and desperation. Destroying the Titans and leaving their children orphaned is seen as an act of devotion and unconditional love towards his manipulator, Mythal. But as the world’s best detective, Jake Peralta has once said: “Cool motive. Still a murder.”
And now we arrive at the most beloved sentiment. Solas is his true self. Fen’Harel is just a mask. Oh, boy.
Everyone says that they hate one-dimensional characters until they are served a multifaceted one on the platter. Then they get to declawing and defanging them, ripping their personality apart into this and that, robbing them of parts of them that make them whole, and when that is not enough, they take on dulling off any edges they might find too abrasive. Assassination of the character is just the beginning; the remains have to be sanitized and scrubbed off any wrongdoing whatsoever, so supporting them doesn’t seem like a moral failing on fandom’s part.
Cutting Solas and Fen’Harel apart as if they are some conjoined twins, where Fen’Harel is the evil one, is stripping Solas of things that are inherent parts of his character for the sake of feeling more comfortable with his actions. Solas is kind, caring, and wise. Fen’Harel is prideful, scheming, and treacherous. These two sides of him are now separated by their representation in the Inquisition and Veilguard. In Inquisition, he is Solas - a thoughtful mage obsessed with dreams, a soft-spoken man keen on sharing his knowledge. Except for the part where he doesn’t see current Thedosians as real people. Where everyone is tranquil in his eyes and thus, lesser. People, who he is willing to sacrifice to achieve his goals. The thoughtful things he said by the end of the road to the Inquisitor he supposedly cared for:
“I will do what I must, but there is no benefit in allowing harm to come to innocents before it's necessary.”
“I will save the Elven people, even if it means this world must die.”
“As this world burned in the raw chaos, I would have restored the world of my time... the world of the elves.”
And then he mutilated them. Yes, he did it to save their life. But the Inquisitor had no choice in the matter. What if my Inquisitor would have rather died than lost their arm? Doesn’t matter, because our thoughtful, kind apostate knows better. A kind apostate who sacrificed his world to avenge Mythal, but then by the time of the Inquisition killed her all over again. For power, of all things. And then he stripped the dignity of the one who carried what remained of Mythal through ages by depicting her as an elf, proving once again that he does not see current Thedosians, humans, as real.
The most egregious crime of Solas’ portrayal in Veilguard seems to be painting him as a liar. Because in the Inquisition he didn’t lie. He just avoided telling the truth. He shaded it in a comfortable tale that no one would question. He spun the narrative. Solas made himself appear as an apostate mage who has gained all his knowledge from the Fade. He crumbled just enough truth without revealing his hand. Or simply said he was lying by omission. Luckily to him, no one would ever ask a random mage if, by chance, they are the infamous Fen’Harel, so he doesn’t need to lie outright.
And what did he do in Veilguard while not being his true self and wearing that mask of Fen’Harel, that degree of separation from his true, kind self and the trickster god? He spun the narrative. He said just enough truth to be believed. He was deceitful. Solas can be caught saying one outright lie—“I abhor blood magic.” Oh, wait. He can be caught lying exactly one time in Inquisition too—if you confront him about missing court intrigue. So much for a completely different man in Veilguard.
Fen’Harel as a mask is such a beloved statement that it disregards thousands of years of his life. “I was Solas first. Fen'harel came later, an insult I took as a badge of pride.” A badge of pride Felassan used to flock followers to his side. Badge of pride he wore all through his rebellion. The one he tried to reclaim once meeting Dalish of the current day Thedas. One he used to amass following during the events of Trespasser. How many millennia can a person willingly wear a mask and not have it be a part of who they are?
And then we end up here, where somehow the portrayal of Solas in certain parts of fandom becomes an eerily similar story to that of Portrait of Dorian Grey. We have this beautiful, virtuous man, who’s telling you the most fascinating stories of the Fade, lulling you with his kind voice and beautiful eyes. One who was manipulated, traumatized, desperate, and pushed to act against his good nature. One who would tear down the Veil to restore what was lost and make the world right again. An idealist, working towards his goal. Damned be the sacrifices it requires. Because being hurt in some minds absolves people of guilt. Some agree with his goals and damn his ugly side to the attic. The one who manipulated, one who deceived and killed. One who has the blood of countless lives on his hands. One has to exist for the other to reach that goal. One who is just as much part of his true self as the other.
Solas is Fen’Harel. Fen’Harel is Solas. One could not exist without the other. And to love someone truly, we must accept the good, the bad, and the ugly. Because to be loved is to be seen fully. Loving a villain is not a moral failing. And yes, he is a villain. Doing something horrible for the sake of something good is still, at the core, doing something horrible.
Love him because of the awful things he did and in spite of them.
#fandom critical#dragon age critical#solas critical#solas#solas dragon age#dread wolf#fen harel#solavellan critical#fenrel mercar writes
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BingLiuShen au where Shen Qingqiu's fevered heteronormativity poisoned brain decides that the best way to avoid dying for the crime of being a heterosexual male in a stallion novel is to pretend not to be heterosexual and thus not a threat to the protagonist's harem. He figures if he can hit that sweet spot where his (supposed! Not real at all!) sexuality is just a quirk of the beloved mentor then the narrative will have no choice but to keep him alive. Airplane might be a hack, but he's exactly the sort of hack who would put in a token gay character, then shunt them off to the background, only to be trotted out again when he's getting flack in the comments for sexist, homophobic, and/or generally shitty writing decisions.
And for Shen Yuan, whose stated life goal is to idle away the hours in luxury and occasionally bask in Binghe's protagonisty coolness (in a very heterosexual way of course!) that would be the perfect out. There's just one problem- how does he demonstrate his (definitely fake!) homosexuality without playing into homophobic tropes and getting himself killed for offending the genre's aggressively het sensibilities?
The answer? Pretend to be pinning away silently in unrequited love for another man. It's perfect! All he has to do is drop a few extremely subtle hints in Binghe's hearing implying having feelings he would never act on for say, Liu Qingge, and he'll be golden. After all, what person attracted to men (which he isn't!) wouldn't fall immediately in love with the Bai Zhan War God? It has the added benefit of proving what a good Token Gay he is by the fact that he saved Liu Qingge's life without any expectations or hopes and without ever even revealing his (supposed!) feelings.
Shen Qingqiu gets about a week of feeling like a genius after putting this plot into motion before Liu Qingge starts showing up at Qing Jing with small gifts and pastries and asking to spar, and well. In between melting down (because how on earth did he put it together from the grand total of three entirely ambiguous hints he dropped!) and trying to stay composed (because even the straightest guy- which he is!- would get flustered by having Liu Qingge smiling at him Like That) he figures the only rational thing to do is just Commit To the Bit, resign himself to one day becoming cultivation partners with Liu Qingge and retiring together into the background of future plot shenanigans. Their are clearly no other possible ways of dealing with this situation, and hey being with Liu Qingge of all people isn't bad. That's a fan favorite character and he's stupidly handsome and brave and kind! Shen Qingqiu could do a lot worse, especially in a world like PIDW. In fact given the alternatives, Shen Qingqiu's could probably consider himself incredibly lucky. Objectively that is. From a purely 'guy trying to survive this dumb novel' point of view. It would be an honor to have Liu Qingge's arms wrapped around him. If he where into men of course.
Meanwhile you have Luo Binghe in the background of every scene the two are in with a forced smile, internally speed running the '*fork in garbage disposal noises*' to 'I just want my Shizun to be happy! I swear!' to 'actually Liu-shishu is really nice I can see what Shizun sees in him' to 'oh no I think I want to be in the Middle Of Whatever That Is' arc.
(And of course, Binghe at the end of the day IS the protagonist, and after much trial and tribulation, is supposed to get exactly what he wants...)
And all the while you have Liu Qingge, utterly oblivious to the mental anguish and gymnastics of his shidi and shizi, who just keeps turning up at Qing Jing, because he really does like Shen Qingqiu and even if that first date was his sister's idea he's found he really does enjoy spending time with Shen Qingqiu, and also Shen Qingqiu's sticky first disciple who despite the crocodile tears is actually clearly pretty strong. He has no idea that Shen Qingqiu is silently picking out drapery for the future house while Luo Binghe tries to rationalize his out of control heartbeat as a completely normal side effect of the sparring match they just fought (Which he only keeps challenging Liu-shishu to make sure he's strong enough to protect Shizun! He swears!).
WIll the three of them ever figure it out and get their act together? Sure. Will they do it before the Conference/Abyss arc upends everything? Absolutely not.
#SVSSS#SVSSS AU#scum villian self saving system#Bingliushen#liubingshen#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#luo binghe#liu qingge#the real person suffering in this situation is ming fan#who has no idea what is going anytime all three of them are in one room#but he KNOWS it's not normal and that he can't and shouldn't do anything about it#at first he's thrilled when he thinks that sqq and liu-shishu are getting together#but his approval is quickly rescinded after the first time Liu Qingge pats Binghe on the head and Bing almost starts crying
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all the colors of the sun
ao3: all the colors of the sun pairing: karasu tabito x f! reader genre: romance wc: 17.5k status: one shot
You don't need to wish for love or for someone to love you. Because… sometimes, you just never realize that you've had them all along.
And if he were to put it into words, he'd tell her: “And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”
Because he already does.
“No way in hell did Karasu get a girlfriend before me!” Otoya protests, voice laced with all the stinging sensations of envy as he, Isagi, and Yukimiya huddled together like the Avengers if the superhero group was the type to peek at people from around a corner.
The object of their interest? None other than the assassin, Karasu Tabito—talking animatedly to a girl all the while looking like he just won the World Cup, saved the universe, and had gotten married all in the same day. His smile was very annoyingly wide, and his laughter sounded so happy that it scratched the ears of his very envious teammates.
"Maybe he’s just being nice to a fan," Yukimiya offered, though the model himself couldn’t stop the bitterness from tagging along with his words. He swears he could almost taste it.
“Karasu?” Otoya questions incredulously.
“Nice?” Isagi follows.
“Ha! The only way Karasu and nice belong in the same sentence is if the word isn’t is in between,” Chigiri remarks, arms crossed as he leaned against the opposite wall, silently judging his teammates—who were very keenly drawing nearer and nearer to the borders of looking like electric posts if they could pull the We Bare bears pose—from their spot in the corner.
“Why’re you guys talking about him anyway?” Chigiri asks, sipping casually on his energy drink.
“Look at him, Chigirin!” Bachira’s head popped up from behind the trio like a Whac-A-Mole, pointing dramatically at the crow in the crowd. “Karasu’s talking to a girl!”
Chigiri chokes mid-sip, spilling his drink all over his hands and on the floor from absolute mortification. “He’s what?!”
"Whatcha guys yellin' for? Yer gonna get us in trouble if ya don't keep it down—"
“Hiori! Look at your childhood friend!” Isagi whispers in alarm, as if the scene he’s been watching unfold before his eyes for the last five minutes is nothing but fever-induced hallucinations.
"He ain't my childhood friend,” Hiori mutters, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance that he had to clear this up, again. “If anythin’ he’s—”
Tired of Hiori’s stalling, Isagi shoved the Ice Man’s face in the direction of their crime-committing teammate.
“[Name]-san?” Hiori mumbles in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if the scene before him was something out of this world. Well, he should’ve expected this considering… well, considering them.
“You know her, Hiorin?” Bachira pokes his head from Yukimiya's side, curiosity all over his honey-colored eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathes, still struggling to process the image, “She’s…” his words faded to a dull echo. It’s only been a few months since he last saw them together. There wasn’t anything unusual, same old Karasu, same old [Name], still laughing and talking like they were the only two people in the world. They’ve always looked like that. Always looked at each other like that. So how come seeing them now… how did they look so different? Almost as if they were…
“In love.” He whispers.
“What?!” The peepers—minus Yukimiya—screamed in unison, garnering a few odd stares from the people walking by.
“What I meant,” Hiori clears his throat, “is that she’s Karasu-kun’s childhood friend.” Hiori smiles, “She’s also ridiculously strong.”
“Can’t be stronger than Karasu, right?” Otoya asks, his eyes giving way to the bubbles of whatever evil plan it was that he was concocting in his head.
“Oh, I ain’t sure.” Hiori shrugs, “But from all the fights they had that I can remember, she never lost a single one."
Hiori caught sight of the smirk on Otoya’s face growing wider, and if he were to push it, Hiori was certain that Otoya would was going to tear his jaw open from it.
Amused by the ninja’s shamelessness, Hiori imparts a very much needed word of wisdom.
"If she and Karasu-kun were to fight for real right now, she would still win.” He laughs, not quite liking the sudden image of Karasu’s bruised face from long ago showing up in his head, “and that's with Karasu-kun burnin' all the candles at every end."
Otoya’s suggestive expression wilted like a rose at the new information, stepping behind Yukimiya all of a sudden.
Wanting to see how far he could go, Hiori hummed and pretended to think deeper, “I think she does kickboxing—or was it karate? Well, doesn’t matter. Yer screwed either way, Otoya-kun.” Hiori pats Otoya’s shoulder as he walks past the group of terrified teenagers, “Best not to try!” He calls, waving his hand in farewell.
As he walks away, snickering softly to himself as he noted the look on his teammate’s faces. He remembers the day those two met, a moment in time so engraved in his head it felt kind of strange to see how much had changed.
Or maybe… just maybe, nothing’s changed at all.
---
"Didja lose your partner?"
A younger [Name] stood in front of a boy crouched by the bike rack near the curve, popsicle in hand as the other scratched the back of her neck—craning her head to see if anyone was around the corner.
[Name] tried to catch his eye, shamelessly offering the half-eaten treat to him when he ignored her question.
Met by his silence, she steps closer to him, setting her bag next to his yellow hat as she crouches down to try and get a glimpse of his face.
"Oi," she calls again, waving a sticky hand in front of his face. "Can ya hear me?"
The boy hides his face further in the comforts of his arms, swatting away her hand without a word.
[Name] furrowed her brows at his dismissal, pouting at him even if he couldn’t see.
What’s this kid’s deal? She thought.
Just as she was about to get back up and walk away, she heard him—albeit very soft that could be mistaken for the wind—whimper.
He wasn’t upset at her or anything, but he just didn’t know what else to do at the moment, so he couldn’t help but try to push her away. This was the last thing he wanted… for someone to see just how weak he was. He didn’t get partnered up with the girl he wanted, so what? It wasn’t like it was the end of the world. He thought it was the stupidest reason in the world. It shouldn’t be something to be so upset over.
But he was.
To him… getting partnered up with Marisa really, really mattered.
Pained by the sudden reminder, he felt the back of his eyes tingle, silver brimming his downcast gaze.
"H-Hey, c'mon now, don't cry..." [Name] panics, dropping down to eye level with him once more at the sight of the tears streaming down his very sad face. Mindlessly, she thrusts the melting, half-eaten popsicle to him like an offering, like the spirit of summer could magically solve all his problems.
She pats his back awkwardly, "I lost my partner, too." She blurted, her voice colored in cheer and laughter, as though the matter of losing a buddy on a school field trip was a funny story they can share for life.
The reason for Karasu's sadness was a very different matter altogether, still, he appreciated his classmate's efforts. Her kind, and frantic energy pulling at the corners of his lips even by the smallest centimeter.
"Hio-kun prolly made it back to the teacher, maybe your partner is there!" She smiles at him, like there was no surer thing in the whole wide world aside from her optimism. She extended a hand for him to take. "Let's go back, Nakimushi-san!"
"I'm not a crybaby!" He snaps, finally looking—more like glaring—at her through watery eyes, "And the name's Karasu. Karasu Tabito!" (believe it!)
"Okay, Tabito-chan!" She beams, one so bright it made him squint.
Before he could reprimand her for her actions, she plopped the matching yellow hat back onto his head, the brim settling crookedly as her sticky fingers lingered for a second too long. She adjusted the straps of her red backpack and looked to him in anticipation.
"Don't go calling me by my first name like we're close or somethin’!" He yells, flustered at the thought of a girl being all chummy with him.
"Sure thing, Tabito-chan!" She replies, completely ignoring his protests as she drags him by his hand and led him back to the rest of the group.
---
That was how they became friends.
According to the testimony of Hiori Yo—who was originally [Name]’s assigned partner—she was seen ditching him half-way when caught sight of an ice cream store, and somewhere along the way got wired with a crying kid on the sidewalk.
From that day onward, they just sort of… stuck together
---
At eight years old, [Name] discovered Karasu’s secret, as much as a secret it could be but… what she unveiled was his crush on Marisa—the resident cutest kid in class, according to him.
It wasn’t intentional. [Name] blamed it on Karasu. It was completely by accident.
She went to his house one Saturday morning to return the ball he had left by mistake last night when he came over to her house to play.
His older sister, Tsubame-nee-chan, who looked just like Tabito but with longer hair and a kinder attitude, had told [Name] that her best friend was upstairs. She was so used to having the girl come over that it started to become weird when there wasn’t any laughter and banter in the house.
“Tabito’s upstairs,” Tsubame waves from the living room, laughing at something her friends said. “Ya can just grab him yerself!”
Muttering a faint, ‘Pardon the intrusion’, taking off her slippers, and a ‘Thanks, Tsubame-nee-chan!’, [Name] climbed the steps, no limit to her usual buzzing energy.
But the second her foot closed the last step of the stairs, she halted.
[Name] caught sight of Karasu at the far end of the corridor, standing in front of the full-length mirror he probably used more than his sister—or anyone in his house for that matter. The boy hadn’t taken note of her presence just yet, seemingly immersed in whatever it was that he was doing that merited his undivided attention and spatial awareness.
She tilted her head in curiosity and breathed to call out to him.
And with little to no warning at all, his voice broke through like thunderstorms.
"Marisa, I like you," he tells his reflection, flushing red from the weight of his own words.
[Name] gasped, her jaw dropping to the center of the earth—the surprise simmering in her soul that it had frozen her over where she stood, causing her grip on the soccer ball to loosen. The ball slipped from her hands, descending step by step down the stairs, sounding like a drumroll for impending doom.
The sound had Karasu whipping his head in her direction looking like roadkill. Blushing, in the nicest word; lovesick in the worst.
"YOU LIKE MARI—!"
Karasu, in sheer mortification, bolted toward her, yanking her away from the stairs and slapped a sweaty palm over her mouth before she could blacken his name in his own household. His heart racing faster than when he stayed past curfew and had to go home knowing his mom was waiting for him by the door with a slipper.
“Shaddap!” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as he glances around like a criminal.
Meanwhile, downstairs, in the living room, Tsubame glanced at the direction of the stairs—noting the series of thuds and muffled and restrained yelling—raising a questioning brow as it had her pausing mid-laugh. A minute of silence ensued after that, so she immediately concludes that it was probably nothing… hopefully.
Those two were always loud and rough and chaotic, there existed no day where she could describe them with just two of those adjectives, and frankly, it would never work anyway. Where there was loudness there was chaos, and all the other matches.
Besides, her brother was a soccer player, and [Name] was a karate practitioner.
Totally normal.
Back upstairs, Karasu dragged [Name] into his room like she was a dead body he was desperately trying to hide.
When he was sure that the door was slammed shut and that no other human on earth could possibly lo and behold his newly discovered secret, only then did he let her go. He knew full well that as he stood there all red-faced, heart pumping, colored in all the shades of horror for his impending fate, shoulders heaving as he struggled to regain his composure… Karasu Tabito was never gonna hear the end of her teasing.
And it began the moment [Name] stood up, dusted the dust from her clothes, and looked at him with the most skin-crawling smile to ever graze humanity. “Sooo… Marisa, ey?” She jabs his side with her elbow, her smile growing impossibly wider.
Karasu groans, sliding dramatically against the door like a telenovela star as he hides his face behind his hands. “Yer absolutely not allowed to tell anyone!” he commands, glaring at her from where he was, trying to act all big and scary but failing in [Name]’s eyes since he was far too red-faced like a stoplight to be considered a threat. “’Specially not my sister! She’d tease me and I’d be forced to hit the grave early.”
"Don'tcha worry, Tabito-likes-Marisa, yer secret’s safe with me!" [Name] salutes dramatically, a certain twinkle in her eyes as if his wishes were a heaven-sent mission to their strongest soldier.
Karasu let out an exasperated sigh, ruffling his hair in frustration—already beginning to count the days that remained of his secret.
"So...” She started, leaning closer to him with a mischievous smile, “Whatcha like about her, Tabi-chan?" [Name] teases, wiggling her eyebrows while she was at it, poking his reddening cheeks at the reminder of the pretty girl from class.
His face erupted in all the shades of red—if it was even possible. [Name]’s prodding wasn’t helping his racing heart one bit, in fact, it only made him feel like his own organ was trying to break down his rib cage and run as far away as possible.
He wasn’t getting away from this—not unscathed—so might as well fess up.
"Well, she's really cute," Karasu admits, a tiny, soft smile painting his expression.
[Name] nodded enthusiastically, leaning closer in anticipation. But Karasu remained silent, he was just smiling there like an idiot staring off into yonder.
"What?" he asks as he took note of the unimpressed expression on his friend's face.
"Ya mean that's it?" she deadpans, all the happiness draining from her face at the sight of Karasu's lenient expression speaking volumes far more than when he spoke the words—"Should there be more?"
"Oi! I always thought ya weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I didn't know yer stupidity was this high—OW!" [Name] yelps as Karasu karate-chopped the top of her head, effectively drawing the curtains to her insults to a close.
[Name] glared at him, eyes reflecting the thought: you dare use my own spells against me?
"You don't get a say!” He protests, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Ya never liked anyone but the neighborhood cat!"
Because for the life of him, no matter how many kanji he learned to read or write, he was certain he couldn't convey a hundredth of Marisa's beautiful qualities.
"Liking someone is dumb!" she shot back, wincing as she rubs the top of her head to ease the ache. She was certain she'd develop all the necessary dodging maneuvers from her friend alone.
"Of course, ya'd think that you gorilla." Karasu laughs as he leaned over to pull at [Name]'s cheeks just to annoy her further.
The small conversation was something only the two of them shared. Lost under the stars of all their laughter and the echoes of their smiles… forever just theirs to keep.
Karasu never confessed his feelings for Marisa in the entirety of elementary school, or ever for that matter. And [Name], surprisingly true to her word, kept his secret well, a secret.
That’s why it came as a surprise.
It was the day of their elementary school graduation.
Tabito and [Name] stood next to each other as his sister took their photo, saying that they were one step closer to ‘reaching the age of maturity’ as she had so cryptically put it. Because what on earth could she mean by that? They were plenty mature. It didn’t help that she was smiling weirdly at the two of them while she was at it.
But the biggest shock of the day wasn’t Tsubame-nee-chan’s sudden teasing, no. It was something entirely different.
Marisa called to Tabito just as their class had finished capturing a photo together. [Name] hardly had any time to see everything unravel before she was whisked away by the Karate Club to take a picture of their own.
As she caught the last of their shadows from the corner of her eye—Marisa, all smiles and laughing, Karasu, standing looking like he could snap like a taco shell at any moment but hid his situation very well.
For some reason unknown, the sight of them talking rang an unpleasant melody in the caves of [Name]’s chest, rattling the once peaceful solitude.
She blamed it on the pollen. She blamed it on the heat or the cold, whichever was more prominent. She blamed it on… quite literally everything else. Not willing to admit to anything—not when she didn’t even know what the heck this was.
Later that afternoon, when the two found themselves at the beach loitering on the wave breakers by the roadside to watch the sunset, Karasu told [Name] that Marisa—his life-long crush at the time—had confessed to him.
He told it like it was nothing. As if it was no more than an ordinary occasion, like a weather report!
But [Name]’s reaction was a stark contrast to his nonchalance.
The revelation crashed against her like a tidal wave that nearly had her toppling over the concrete barrier, in danger of falling to the sandy shore—a generous twenty-foot drop at least.
Karasu grabbed her by the scruff of her clothes, heart pounding at the sight of her almost falling— “Idiot, be more careful!” He scolds, carding a hand through his ever-growing violet hair.
“MARISA CONFESSED TO YOU?!” [Name] screams, standing up in absolute shock with zero regards that she almost had a close date with the Grim Reaper a few minutes ago.
"Hey! I already told ya to watch yerself! You'll fall!" Karasu reminds, reaching out to steady her. His brows remained furrowed as he stayed seated on the concrete barrier, only this time, one hand caged her own as his other found anchor on her ankle.
"Whatcha say? Ya better not have told her somethin' stupid! Gosh this is excitin'—"
“I rejected her.”
The world came to a standstill at the resounding echo of his words. But the tides continued to crash against the shores, drawing away not a moment later. The birds’ orchestra flowed like the spring zephyrs as they flew over the vast finiteness of the horizons. Still… [Name] could not feel herself move from her frozen state.
Wasn’t it too sudden? It felt like only yesterday that she discovered his crush on their classmate. Why… why?
Karasu looks to the ocean with a completely calm face, a stark contrast to the slowly rising tides. The sunset painted him golden, like all the stars melted just to color him in this moment.
When he was colored in that light, saturating him in every shade of soothing silence, softening his features… for the first time in forever, Karasu felt unreachable. Like he belonged to a world she had no right to step into. As though he would continue to travel past the borders of the Milky Way to some unknown universe far beyond what [Name] could comprehend.
When he was painted in all the colors of the sun, it was hard to deny.
It was difficult to fight the fluttering sensation thrumming in her heart—surging in all the forms of power—of happiness.
[Name] tugged on his arm that held her own, urging him to look at her as she asks, "Why?"
Indeed, why?
For as long as [Name] had known him, Karasu's always liked Marisa. He even went as far as to make her swear not to tell a single soul about his infatuation with the girl, not because he was embarrassed, but because he thought far too lowly of himself—believed that he was too ordinary—for someone like Marisa to ever like him back.
"I... well, we're gonna go to different middle schools,” he shrugs, sweeping it under the carpet like it was no big deal. “It would be a long-distance thing ya get me? So I rejected her." He talks about it so easily, always acting that it isn’t eating him up inside.
He was always like this.
Using the hand that held the hand of the girl standing before him, Karasu pulled himself up from his sitting position. He towered over her easily, already breaking past a hundred and seventy centimeters—a reminder that they were growing up—and he was sure to grow taller in the near future.
"Nothin' weird about it,” he comments apathetically. “Completely normal—ow! Hey! What're ya doin'—[Name]!" He hurriedly shielded his arm from [Name]’s aggravated assault.
“Yer an idiot!” she fires at him, her frustration dropping on him like a bomb.
"Ow! [Name]—stop! You hit like a gorilla—ow!" Karasu finally held her thrashing arms, caging her in his hold so she couldn't hit him anymore.
He wasn't sure why [Name] was acting this way, or why she was so upset over this. What he was certainly most certain of is that her punches hurt. They hurt a whole lot.
"You're an idiot..." she echoes.
Karasu tried to look her way, but it proved to be an arduous task as she kept her head down. A few stands of her hair prevented Karasu from discerning what sort of expression was on her face. He hesitantly let her arms go, watching them fall to her side softly.
Karasu poked [Name]'s forehead, pushing her head slightly to get her to look up.
"Hey..." he calls gently, closing the remaining distance between them with a single stride, "Why're ya cryin'?"
[Name] looks to the ocean, aggressively wiping away the traitorous tears that slipped from the shackles of her eyes. She wasn't gonna cry over this. It was stupid.
"You liked Marisa a lot, Tabito."
It took Karasu by surprise that [Name] called him by his first name, free from her usual teasing jeers and awful nicknames—still, he didn't understand why is it that she was so upset by his situation.
"I just..." she begins, glancing at him from the corners of her eyes before sighing and turning to face him, "It was yer chance to be with the one you loved—"
"Oi, oi... love is a strong word for that—" Karasu wanted to complain, to say that it really wasn’t like that, but looking at the saddened expression of his friend, he thought otherwise.
"—and you let the chance go just like that." She admits, her voice threatening to crumble from the heaviness that she felt—and before long, her tears had broken free from their holding cells.
"I know I can't say anythin' to ya cuz I'm a gorilla and I don't like anyone else but Miiko but don'tcha think it's a waste—" Karasu cut her off by wrapping his arm around her form, tangled her in gentleness that stood in great contrast to his usual rough and jagged demeanor.
Because he didn’t like seeing her cry.
He doesn’t like it when other kids make fun of her, even if he knew that she was better equipped to handle them far more than him. He doesn’t like it when she’s sad. And he doesn't like it when she wasn’t around.
[Name] was an irreplaceable figure in his life… and it hurt him just as much that she—that she was sad… and he felt even worse this time because he knew that he was the one who caused it.
"Gettin' a love life ain't everythin' in this world ya know?" he tells her, threading a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture.
[Name] buries her face in his chest, nodding despite knowing that he wouldn't see.
She felt like the world's biggest scumbag. Her best friend in the whole wide world just turned down the girl he liked for so long. She should've been sad—angry at the world for forcing this fate onto Karasu, to her best friend who was the kindest person on earth. And she was!
Desperately, she tried to convince herself that she was.
But here she was… taking advantage of his kindness. Trying to take more than what she was given.
Because what else could this be? That there was this thrumming sensation in her chest that rejoiced in knowing that Karasu turned Marisa down.
"Hold on, why are you the one cryin'? Shouldn't it be me?" He teased, ruffling the threads of [h/c] that covered her head.
"Idiot!"
---
As the seasons changed and the moon waxed and waned, a good chunk of their time in middle school was spent with Karasu breathing into his soccer career slash club slash obsession, playing alongside Hiori Yo—[Name]’s initial elementary school partner whom she ditched to get ice cream and was later forced to apologize to by her mother—all the while [Name] dedicated hers to Karate.
The two remained as close-knit as ever, choosing to wait for whomever had practice the longest so they could walk home together. Spending all breaks and lunches lounging around and glaring at people who looked at them funny. [Name] complaining about chemistry because who the hell would find joy in dragging numbers up and down, sideways and backwards, all over roll over. It was a pain. All she knew was that Protactinium + Nitrogen + Calcium + Potassium + Einsteinium = PaNcaKEs. And that was just about how far her Chemistry brain cells could peak.
It didn’t help that Karasu was a wizard when it came to that godawful subject so when it came to helping her with it, tutoring sessions were 5% learning, 3% complaining, with all the rest occupied by his relentless teasing.
A horrible experience.
But for them who had known each other since once upon a time, it was nothing unusual.
Everything was the same as ever. Same old science woes. Same old swimming classes despair. Same old faces. Same old Karasu. Same old [Name].
That was until one winter night of their second year of middle school...
[Name] was set to compete in the winter Karate tournament and if she did well, it was one step closer to Nationals.
She trained day in, and day out near the field where Karasu played soccer when the school field was out for break.
The soccer player was not privy to her unshakable resolve, even going as far as labeling her—and letting her know—that she was “working so hard like a cow” which he received a kick as thanks.
It was fine during spring—her training that is, even more so in summer, and Karasu would even let it slip in autumn but winter? Winter was a different matter altogether.
For the past days (and even last year), he had told her off for it—scolded her far more times than he would like to admit with a tone laced with all the streamers of irritation and illuminated by the lights of his concern. “Ya gotta stop workin’ yerself so hard like a cow, gorilla girl. You’ll get sick!”
As he makes a move to hit her head like he always did, [Name] dodged and repaid his words with a very kind kick to his side, sending him staggering a few steps away.
"Ya don't get ta lecture me on that, stupid crow! Yer here too, equally as guilty! And don't call me a cow! Or a gorilla!" She points a numb finger in his direction, because even with her stubborn and brutish attitude, it sadly didn't make her immune to the cold.
"Yeah, yeah..." He waved her off with one hand as the other rubbed the spot she kicked.
"But I'm runnin' around so I ain't as cold, but you've just been standin' there for the past thirty minutes, aren'tcha cold?" He quirks a brow at her as he approached her slowly, like a wild predator cautious to scare away his prey.
"Oh, I'm freezin’." She agrees nonchalantly, a mist of white clouds leaving the borders of her lips.
"Act more like it then, idiot." he deadpans, scratching his head in frustration.
"Here," Karasu breathes into his hands moving closer so he could cup her face.
"Woah. Ya really weren't jokin' when ya said yer freezin'" he says in surprise, laughing at his own discovery like it was the most amusing thing in the world. "Are yer hands cold, too?"
He retreated his hands and made a motion to take off his soccer gloves not a moment later, looking at them for a few moments—trying to figure out which hand was right and left, even if they wouldn't matter in the end—before sliding them onto her trembling fingers.
They hung loosely on her despite the Velcro straps going as far as they could possibly go.
Since when did he grow so much?
When she looks away from her hands to thank him, [Name] felt the world around her freeze into place, frosting over like the trees that bordered the field. Light snow descended from the heavens, the last sunrays dipping behind the horizons of the sky as the stars flickered to life one by one.
And then there it was again, that same fluttering feeling from so long ago. Only this time, it set everything in her to flames: her blood rushed far too fast for her head to keep up, lighting the meadows of her face to a vibrant shade of red, setting every hollow and edge into a raging inferno. She felt cold and warm everywhere—like her body couldn't decide if it wanted to burn to ash or forever freeze with winter.
The colors of the night shone in a vibrant light, flowering in circles from the sheer intensity—brighter than the summer sky yet dimmed in comparison next to him—to Tabito who looked at her like she was the only thing in the world, rubbing his hand against his arm to spark heat so he could thaw the frozen wasteland ravaging her soul.
Since when did she begin to see him like this? When did he become so saturated in all the colors of everyday life that he blended in so well?
When... did I start feeling like this?
Don't look at me like that, [Name] wanted to tell him. Don't laugh at me. Don't hold me like this... just don't.
Because if he did—when he does all of this—how was she supposed to fight off this greedy, hungry feeling festering inside her? This needless longing to keep him close to her, to never let him go, to show him all the wonders of the universe... all the colors of the sun, everything that he turned his back on because he believed that he wasn't enough to have any of them.
When he looks at her like that, when he laughs... when he holds her like this—how was she supposed to deny it?
That she was in love with him.
[Name] was in love with Karasu Tabito.
---
When the wave of High School crashed against the two best friends, it brought with it the cruellest game fate could play on [Name].
Marisa… had returned.
The same Marisa she had teased and jeered at Karasu about when they were kids. The same Marisa… Karasu had loved—again, such a strong word—for so long. And she guessed—no matter how much she didn't want to entertain the thought that Karasu could still like the same Marisa from elementary school—he loves even now.
And it nearly killed her inside when she found that her suspicions were true.
It was a week after their first year had begun when Karasu came running from the pitch to meet her halfway, cleats thudding against the grass as she made her way to the bleachers.
"[Name]!" He yells as he runs towards her at full speed it nearly had [Name] contemplate if she should move aside so Karasu doesn't accidentally trample her over. But he ran to her with the biggest smile she had ever seen on him—yes, even happier than the time they won the local tournament—it broke her heart to even think of sidestepping him, even if he did pose as a road hazard from his speed.
"Why'dya hafta feel like ya need to win a marathon, Tabi-chan?" She punches his arm playfully once he skidded to a stop near where she stood (after nearly running her over).
She sets her bag down as she laughs at the sight of Karasu buzzing in excitement. Must be something really important to him if he's this happy about it. Before [Name] could fully turn to face him, he had already grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her back and forth. "She's here!" He cheers.
"Who's here?"
"Marisa!"
[Name] felt her heart shatter from the happiness decorating every word that left the orbit of his tongue, shining like the stars that could’ve littered her evening. She should have been happy for him. Really, she should have shared even half the joy he felt from his supposed amazing discovery. She should've... she knew full well that she should.
So why does it remind her exactly of elementary graduation?
When he was whisked away from her by the same girl who she cheered Karasu to pursue? Why does it remind her so much that she wasn't a figure like Marisa in his life? She wasn't the object of his desire. Karasu didn't hold an ounce of romantic affection for her like he did for Marisa. She... [Name]... was just his friend. She was his best friend. And god... did that hurt—that she couldn't be more than that—when all she wanted was to be a little greedier, to have a place in his heart like Marisa did. She couldn't quite understand it... even if she knew deep down that Karasu liked Marisa, that he had her image perched atop a pedestal in the center of his heart, [Name] couldn't be contented with just being his friend.
The one friend who loved him so much.
The one friend... that he couldn't love back.
"Ya hafta help me, [Name]!” His voice anchored her back to reality. “I know I told ya that gettin' a love life ain't everythin' but now that I actually stand a chance... I—I don't wanna lose it agai... [Name]? You still there?"
Karasu waved a hand over her face, taking note of the expression painted on her face, almost as if she just saw a ghost. "Hello? This is ground control to [Name], are ya still in orbit?"
Through the haze, [Name] watches as Karasu walked around her in circles, poking her cheeks to try and get her back to him—huh, what an easily misunderstood thought.
She blinked, taking in the way he eyes her in confusion, his ridiculously gelled hair remaining immovable even as he prodded and scratched his scalp like it held all the answers in the world. Really, it wasn't him who was stupid for trying so hard... it was her.
Because as it stands, she was the one foolish enough to fall for him.
"Oho~ so yer finally mannin' up to ask her out, eh?" she smirks, her facade tugging at the seams of her resolve, pulling at the pieces of her shattered heart. In the silence of his unspoken rejection, she found herself gluing them together, even if they threatened to come apart later. Just a little longer, she would coerce. Just a little more... so that he doesn't find out—so he wouldn't find out—that his feelings... were slowly killing her.
"Don't even start," Karasu holds a hand to her face, he couldn't stomach that teasing shine in her eyes. How long has it been since he last saw that? Far too long he believes, still... he asked himself why he didn't miss it as much as he thought he would've.
Back then, even if it annoyed him to the point of starting a fistfight with [Name]—which he not-so-surprisingly lost every single time—he would secretly be grateful that she pushed him to go reach for the things that made him happy. In his little love life endeavors. No matter how badly it ended for the two of them—like getting scolded for coming home late or getting accompanied by the neighbor who owned Miiko, the cat, back home.
So why now? He didn't quite understand why it had to be now that it felt so wrong to see her pushing him towards someone else again.
She used to do it all the time, and it never bothered him.
Karasu briefly asked himself if the reason behind it was because they spent three—going four—years having no one else but each other. No, that couldn't have been it. Hiori was there sometimes, and Karasu was sure it never felt like this unpleasant feeling.
This was [Name] for crying out loud! The elementary kid who offered a half-eaten popsicle to him like it was some treasure. [Name] whom he pushed into the mud pond and laughed as she tried to get the dirt off her face. [Name] who could kick him so hard that he would fight to hold back his tears—even now that they were in high school.
[Name] was his best friend...
"I'll help ya get with 'er!" she grins, planting her hands on her hips in that little mannerism of hers that Karasu bets she doesn't even know she does, as though she was about to give him some prophet-level guidance free of charge.
Karasu just stares at her, longer than he would have liked to admit. Has she always been this short? Or did he simply grow taller?
Had they always been like this?
Yeah, she was his best friend.
And there should be nothing more.
…Right?
---
And so, the first semester of their first year in high school was spent planning ways to get Karasu together with Marisa while [Name] pulled all the hair on her scalp trying to hide her ever-growing affection for her violet-haired friend.
This also consisted of asking around the campus for Marisa with [Name] doing all the "cow's work" as Karasu had oh-so-gently put it, which merited him a much-deserved kick to his shin.
He had many excuses. One, he didn’t want to seem desperate (which he was). Two, he was too busy (which he is). And three, apparently, he didn’t want any rumors to start going around that he was still pining over his elementary school crush (which he very much was).
Even if [Name] told him not to be ashamed of it, Karasu still couldn't bring himself to do it...
Part of it, though, was because he didn’t miss the way the fire in [Name]’s eyes froze over whenever it was mentioned. He just decided that he didn't like that even if he didn't know the reason why. It bothered him. A lot.
If it were [Name] who asked around, it was different. There would be nothing to worry about since she was also a girl, and girls look for other girls all the time, don't they? They even accompany each other to the restroom like a pair of FBI Agents.
And if Karasu were to lay his heart bare for everyone to see, the only girl he looked around for, flipped heaven and earth over, out of his own jurisdiction and nearly toppled over in despair when he couldn’t find—aside from his mom and his older sister—was [Name].
But he didn’t know how to tell that to her.
The two best friends (mainly [Name] doing all the hard work) discovered a couple of interesting information about Karasu’s person of affection:
Marisa was in the swim club, an extremely coincidentally convenient twist of fate since the pool was by far the nearest facility near the soccer field (the dojo the farthest having been located on the other side of the school).
She excelled in Japanese Literature and Chemistry.
She worked part-time at a local café on Saturdays around the afternoon, another heaven-sent opportunity since soccer practice ended right before noon.
And finally written at the bottom of the paper in all caps along with a few doodles of hearts.
MARISA LIKES MUSHROOMS!!! ❤❤🍄❤❤
"Is that enough, yer highness?" [Name] asks him sarcastically, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes as she had spent the majority of her night stalking Marisa across all social media platforms.
She could pass as a CIA agent by now from all this digging.
She eyes the page ripped from her notebook that Karasu held in one hand as they sat face to face in the classroom—with their desks pushed together to accommodate their lunches.
Written on the slightly wrinkled paper, in messy scrawny handwriting were the fruits of her hard labor.
"I better get compensated for his, you rabies-infected crow," she mumbles, resting her head on the desk, and closing her eyes from the tiredness.
"Wow, ya got all of this in one night?" Karasu scans the paper, they weren’t much but it was still far more than what he could’ve gathered on his own. His stare lingered a moment longer on the girl—noting the way her head stayed resting on the desk, exhaustion seeping through the crevices of her skin as he observed the way her entire frame wilted from exhaustion.
[Name] hummed in confirmation, far too tired to give a worded reply. Now that the less than sufficient hours of sleep were getting to her, she feared that if she spoke another word to Karasu about Marisa, she would end up saying something she'd regret. So, it was best to just... stay silent.
It's getting easier to hear Karasu talk about Marisa. Bearable in the kindest word; numbing in the worst. Still, it didn't mean that she could deny that it hurt any less.
Learning to live through something was very different from accepting it, especially when it was the one you love loving someone else.
[Name] just hopes that she gets over this soon—because the last thing she wanted was to get in the way of Tabito's happiness. Or worse, lose him because of her own selfishness—because she couldn't get over a silly pathetic crush—that she couldn't stop wanting, praying… hoping to have him more than a friend.
"Oh, she likes mushrooms," she hears Karasu mumble, seemingly intrigued.
It was better to pretend that she didn't hear him. It's better this way, she tells herself. He wasn't going to remember anyway, but somehow, her traitorous mouth always worked faster than her brain, a step too late to grab the chance to hold her tongue before she says something she would regret... which is now.
"Ya can give her yer mushrooms now, Tabi-chan."
Silence blanketed the distance between them, seemingly setting them apart from the reverberating chaos ensuing in the classroom.
[Name] was embarrassed beyond belief, feeling her entire face catch fire yet was too exhausted to shield it away from him—not like he could see, but still!
Please let the ground swallow me whole.
Karasu looks to her like she suddenly grew three heads. "I'll always give ya my mushrooms, [Name].” He whispers softly, placing an elbow on the table, propping his face upright with his palm as he unconsciously smiled at the blush that littered the meadows of her face.
“Ya love 'em right? Just ‘bout the only other thing ya like other than Miiko." He snickers at his own jest, remembering a time in their childhood when [Name] would look over the fence and stare at the neighbor's cat for hours or chase it around the little alleyway near Miiko's house.
She felt her heart skip a beat. [Name] blamed it on the weather, or perhaps a growing ailment that made her heartbeat irregular. This was practically Arrythmia—dangerous and a health risk!
But she was sure that heart diseases didn’t come with lingering affections for your best friend. It also didn’t come with the pain of knowing that he was never gonna like her back. And she was most certain that it wasn’t attached with happiness after knowing that he remembers…
[Name] didn't like that she felt happy that Karasu knew that little thing, even if everything about her had practically become baseline knowledge for the soccer player. She just didn't like it.
"Uhuh," she agrees mindlessly, her voice squished by gravity as she remained still laying her head on the desk facing the window and looking at the world vertically.
"When ya marry her, can't just go out in the middle of dinner ta hand me some mushrooms, right?" She teases, the rumble of her laughter feeling more like a hurtful jab to her already breaking heart.
"I guess..." Karasu no longer stared at the paper he held in his hand, opting to observe his very sleep-deprived [Name].
Maybe the dryness of her eyes was getting to her or perhaps she was tired of him beating around the bush and walking on eggshells every time Marisa was around.
Karasu sighs, folding the paper three times and tucked it away in the safety of his bag. The raging inferno in her soul dwindled to a small flame, her usual bladed tongue that cut through his ego had dulled, her silence all too prominent in a world where everyone had something to say.
Ah… I don’t like this.
"Hey, gorilla woman." he grips her head like a ball, although he makes a conscious effort not to hurt her—lest he risk his well-being be a training dummy for the karate practitioner.
[Name] tried to wave away his arm but right now, she was too tired to even lift her hand. She could only mumble a very annoyed, "Don't call me gorilla, you rat-nest-haired crow."
"Let's go to a café this weekend," he suggests, taking a strand of her smooth hair and twirling it between his fingers like it was some sort of scientific breakthrough.
Was it weird that he was inviting her to go out all of a sudden?
But this was [Name]! They always went out together whether it's the local fair, watching a soccer match, or those late-night convenience store runs... this was nothing special.
Karasu started to chant that phrase like a mantra in his head. He was catching himself doing that too much—trying to convince himself that it was nothing—that spending time with [Name] was like a norm already.
They've done it a thousand times and he reckons, a thousand more after this... so what's the difference?
His heart thudded against the confines of his ribs at the sight of her: tired beyond all rhyme and reason, brows furrowed from the noise buzzing in the small room filled with their classmates and other students, her empty bento box next to his own like yin and yang. Salt and pepper. It wasn’t complete without the other.
Has she always been this present in his life? Since when? When did she start to be so interwoven in everything he did that it became strange when she suddenly disappears even when she’s right there? Really… since when?
Since forever...
And maybe, just maybe, that was the difference.
An idiotic part of [Name] rejoiced at his invitation—
"We can see Marisa there while we're at it," he quickly adds without thought, afraid she might misunderstand.
—yet all too suddenly; cruelly, she is reminded that she shouldn't long to be more than just his friend.
"Sure thing, Tabi-chan..." she whispers softly, forcing the thorns in her throat to pin down the hurt so they wouldn’t tumble out—that he may never see them.
And there, with the afternoon gale flowing past the curtains, she feels her heart breaking a little bit more.
---
When the weekend rolled around, Karasu finished his soccer practice exactly before noon, leaving him with a few spare minutes to change into the extra clothes he brought with him. Initially, he felt like the unluckiest athlete in the world when he dragged his ass here at 5 in the morning yet now that he was preparing to spend the rest of his day earlier than what he originally planned, he began thinking that it wasn't so bad after all. At the very least, it gave him enough time to go and see [Name] look at him in envy that his practice ended earlier than her.
[Name], much to Karasu's expectations, did not look at him in jealousy as he had hoped. Instead, she was second-in-line for kicking practice, looking like all the forces of good and evil conspired together to make her day as terrible and energy-draining as much as it could.
The Karate coach, a middle-aged woman who was also their gym teacher, made everyone stay back to practice some drills, claiming she saw it on her social media feed last night and wanted everyone to try it out... and no one was going to leave until at least one of them got it. It was cruel—very much the kind of savagery she expected to get from this tyrant (coach) in her innate domain (karate)—not that she was any stranger to cruelty, though she would be lying if she claims she didn't feel just a little bit sad when she was at the receiving end of it.
Karasu was allowed to stay in the dojo and watch, so long as he remained a safe distance from any potential kicking pads that might come flying his way—a warning he engraved to his mind and soul after getting smack-dabbed in the face by one, and many, many close calls.
It wouldn't be the first time he'd watch [Name] practice; he'd been making the trip from the soccer field to the dojo ever since the beginning of first year that the coach relented and let him stay no matter how many times she told him to go away.
Karasu didn't mind the extra cardio, more often than not, [Name] was the one who had practice running so far from dismissal time, leaving him with nothing to do but sit and wait for her to finish so they could go home together. And it was rarely the other way around.
But seeing her here, in her element, always tugged at something in his chest. A sort of reminder that this was the girl he was lucky enough to call his best friend.
When it was [Name]'s turn to do the drill, everything faded to silence... until it was just her: bouncing on her feet under a thousand shimmering lights, drawing in a breath in preparation. And like the flow of the spring zephyrs, she sliced through the air like a fairy—an aggressive and very, very strong fairy—striking the lowest pad with her left foot, her right foot forcing the middle pad to fly, and finally—after so many failed attempts and an almost sprained ankle—successfully kicked the last top pad with her left foot.
She landed gracefully, like the first fall of snow, shattering the momentary reverie Karasu found himself raptured into.
What the hell?
[Name] looked to her coach in miserable anticipation, a silent plea to release her from this torture. It was between this room and this witch how many times she and her teammates had to do that godawful trick.
The coach gushed over the exhausted [Name], complimenting her for a few seconds before dismissing training.
[Name]'s tired vision zeroed in on Karasu, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor near the door, bag next to his side, and looking every bit the part of someone going on the most anticipated date of his life. [Name] blamed it on the light, or the fatigue seeping into the cracks of her heart, but for a small moment, a foreign light shone through the depths of sapphire pools of his irises.
She thought nothing of it, choosing to lazily wave at him from where she stood, completely oblivious to the lingering glimmer in his expression or the way his face shone brighter at her greeting as he waves back; that for the first time ever, the usually cocky soccer player found himself drowning in the oceans of shyness and hesitance at the sight of his best friend.
"Imma change real quick, so wait for me a little longer, 'kay?" she called, brushing past his figure as she sluggishly—bag in hand—made her way to the locker rooms.
Karasu nodded absentmindedly, his eyes tracing the shadows of her figure until she disappeared around the corner.
C’mon, me, this isn’t the time to feel all mushy for [Name]! That’s [Name]! Your best friend! The gorilla girl next door always working hard like a cow, he internally scolds himself.
Karasu let out a low groan, slumping over on the floor, staring at the place where [Name] once stood. He swore he could almost see her figure there, and he would have believed his own illusions if he hadn't just seen her walk past him to go change.
The soccer player runs a hand over his face in frustration. "Honestly, what's wrong with me..." he mumbles, covering his head with his arm like it can somehow magically put out the wildfire wreaking havoc on the meadows of his face, burning through his resolve like paper.
In the locker room, [Name] was facing a dilemma of her own.
"Hey, [Last Name]-chan, are you and Karasu-kun going out?" one of her teammates asks, a gentle curiosity for Karasu and her long-term friendship, but the words felt like collapsing stars in the once quiet place.
In horrified befuddlement, [Name] screamed an anguished—"Huh?!" like the words her teammate spoke had been a cursed enchantment that would linger through her bloodline for a thousand generations and not the fantasy she wanted to bleed into reality.
"That gel-faced crow who's scared of water? Hell no!" she denies, trying to have it look like the teases and jeers she usually passed around with others.
"But he always waits for you to finish practice" her teammate pointed out.
And it was true—Karasu always made the trip across campus just to wait for [Name] to conclude training no matter how long it dragged on. She recalls the many times the soccer player had fallen asleep by the door, using her gym bag as a pillow because, according to him, her clothes were fluffier and a lot more comfortable than the mess of dirty, sweat-drenched heap in his bag he called clothes.
And as told by another one of his anecdotes, [Name]'s stuff (and even herself) were a lot more preferable sleeping buddies than a soccer ball. A soccer ball! Then there was also the day he carried her home after a particularly bad fall from kicking practice, even if Karasu himself was tired beyond belief.
"That mole rat's been around for so long, we prolly look the same in everyone's eyes by now." [Name] jokes as she continues to rummage through her bag, shaking her head from the horrible image of her having Karasu’s hair.
"And besides..." she murmurs, her gaze distant as she stares at the dress she chose—picking apart her closet all night, spending so long trying to carefully place it in her bag—only to betray herself by abandoning it last minute.
He already likes someone else.
---
The walk to the cafe was relatively silent.
Karasu kept the comments of [Name] being far too quiet for the past week to himself. He thought, maybe she was just tired. The school festival was coming up, but she also still had to train. It was cruel, especially the arduous training he saw her endure earlier that she looked ready to rearrange her coach’s face to roadkill.
Domed by an eternally blue sky, he glances at her from the corner of his eyes.
She looked like hell!
Karasu wasn’t about to lie and tell her that she looked great—that would just be cruel—so he chose not to say anything at all.
He didn’t trust himself with his words, a restraint he put on himself like heaven’s command after he caught himself looking around a store and thinking: Oh, [Name] would like this, or, She’d look good in this, before a hollowing echo of, She always looks good in everything though, would cause him to freeze where he stood and cover his face in shame for having such thoughts.
By far the worst case of this was when he stopped someone because he mistook her for [Name]—it was ridiculous! This was getting outrageous!
Yet one look at her, right here, when all the colors of the sun had painted her in an ethereal light, how could he still think that she was the most beautiful person on the planet?
It must be witchcraft. A curse put upon him for lying. A truth… that he was finding increasingly difficult to deny.
Absolutely… ridiculous…
"You tired?" he asks casually, even if the answer was staring at the road in the form of dark circles heavier than Oganesson.
"Nah.” She smiles through the haze, lazily eyeing him from the sides. “This is the usual ain't it?" she laughs, shifting the weight of her bag that she refused to let Karasu carry despite his many offers and demands for her to just give it to him.
"Don't act so tough, gorilla woman. If yer tired, we can always just go another day." He rubs the back of his neck, finding no other thing to do to ease this shaking sensation in his cardiac muscles.
"Stop callin’ me gorilla woman, you turd-face crow,” she barks, though her tone didn’t hold an ounce of real bite. “'Sides... we're already here. It'd be a shame to leave now."
They stood in front of a glass-front café, cakes and other desserts peering at the passersby from the window. The little signboard by the door offering a warm welcome.
The scent of something faintly sweet weaved with the aroma of coffee waltzed through the warm air of the shop, a low hum of conversation rippling the serene atmosphere.
It thankfully was not the busiest place on the planet. There were a couple of middle school kids by the window side laughing amongst themselves, an office worker staring blankly into the horizon as the sunlight caught her auburn hair in a shimmering light, lastly, an elderly couple shared a pie and some loving smiles near the bar.
"Welcome!" A melodic voice cuts through the air, littered with all the scent of flowers in an open field, warm like the hearth of a fire.
Karasu turned in the direction of the voice, squinting at the sight of a girl in an apron holding a notepad. Who the hell was this loser? He thought, amused in the kindest light, domineering, in the worst.
The soccer player pushes [Name] to an empty booth, telling her to go order whatever her heart desires.
“Just get me whatever,” she mutters, closing her eyes, looking every bit like the monks he occasionally sees on TV… only cuter—what the actual hell?
“Sorry to burst yer bubble but they aren’t sellin’ that here.” He teases, reaching over to pinch her cheeks to get her to wake.
“Ow! Quit that!” She yelps and swats his hand away, sticking her tongue out at him before grabbing the menu from the table. “I’m gonna make your pockets hurt, turd-face.”
She buries her head in the menu dedicating every bit of concentration on the booklet, and he let her—even if he knew how this was gonna end.
“The Chocolate Milk non-coffee drink! And some cake trio platter!” she smiles at him—like he hung the constellations in the sky, or that he had been the one who conjured all the colors of the sun—the first in a long while, so it seems.
“Ya always get that everywhere we go.” He sighs, tracing her features with a gentle gaze.
“Ya asked me what I wanted, and I want that—” she raises her voice in faux defiance as if daring him to contradict her.
“Yeah, yeah…” he waves her off, flicking her forehead to add to her ire. “’Scuse me,” he calls over the lady who welcomed them earlier.
[Name], lost in her own thoughts, allowed her gaze to linger on his side profile from under her lashes. It wasn’t intentional. Why was he sitting there like that anyway all broad-shouldered and tall and—and…
She sighs in defeat.
When did you get so pretty? She thinks, mapping the edges of his jaw, memorizing the sudden sharpness in his gaze.
When did I get so sappy? She lets out a breath, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
"Oh, Karasu-kun! Long time no see!"
The greeting caused [Name]’s eyes to shoot open, her stare landing on Karasu before it traced his gaze to the café worker smiling at them—at him, every atom the embodiment of a daydream. Built upon the foundation of effortless femininity.
“Uh…” Karasu trails off, unsure of what to reply. He was certain he didn’t know this person—
“You don’t remember me?” the waitress points to herself, “It’s Marisa, from elementary school.” She laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears.
Karasu didn’t speak for a moment, short enough to feel natural yet all the stretch to let [Name] know that he was struggling to think about what to say.
"Marisa… Oh, Marisa!” His voice raises higher than expected, like he was caught red-handed for something he was guilty about. “Didn't expect you to be working here." He says, his easy-going tune hiding the truth that they intentionally chose this place because she was working here—that it was not a fated coincidence but a conspired plan. That was what [Name] thought, after all, she was the one who brought him here.
But Karasu… Karasu had forgotten all about that.
"[Last Name]-san, too. Hello," Marisa greets politely, every inch of her polished to a girly perfection. [Name] nods her head in acknowledgement, mumbling a quiet “Hi”.
"So, what can I get you two?" She asks smoothly, quickly pulling out a notepad.
Karasu steals a glance at [Name] finding her slumped where she was seated, painfully aware of the feel of her knee grazing his from under the table.
"I'll get the bamboo shoot soup if ya will." He replies cooly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and it probably was.
What wasn’t natural, however, was that…
"Ever the favorite, huh?" Marisa teased, writing down his choice. "Ours have some mushrooms in it, so do be careful."
…She remembered.
"No biggie, [Name] here loves those." Karasu tilts his head to her direction. Did he have all the intention to rub it in her face that he was so close to getting the girl of his dreams? Or did the world mocked her through him as if saying, in big bold letters: Stop dreaming already, girl, yer never gonna get ‘im. Totally not cool.
[Name] didn’t know how to reply, she had no intention of doing so in the first place since she wasn’t even supposed to be part of this conversation to begin with.
"Really? I love mushrooms too, [Last Name]-san." Marisa beams, smiling like an angel.
"Well ain't that a surprise!" Karasu laughs.
No... it really wasn't.
He was enjoying this too much, [Name] thinks. How cruel does fate have to be that [Name] was hearing this conversation right in front of her face? Pretty damn cruel. She was no stranger to that, her coach made sure of it, fate made it certain, and the world set it in stone so that she may never forget.
Yet it still hurt. It hurts… so much. Every time she’s led back to this road, back to this desolate, empty, and pot-hole-riddled road—her resolve… breaks just a little bit more.
But she took one look at him, at Karasu—her best friend in the whole wide universe—looking so happy, and she plunged to freezing depths of her acceptance.
She steeled her heart, tightened the seams that they bled through the threads. Just a little longer, she whispers. Please, just for a little longer. Karasu's happy. Finally, after three long years of waiting for this chance, it's already within his grasp.
That's right.
This is how it should be.
This would be the inevitable outcome of all this planning and running around. All so he can be with her.
These useless feelings need to go away, they need to leave because they would just get in the way. They'll wedge themselves between Karasu and his happiness. [Name]’s yearning to be more than just a friend in his eyes would drive him away. Karasu didn't think of her like that. He didn't like her that way. And he would never. And she needs to learn how to accept that.
Because why would he—how could he—if Marisa was the one in front of him? How could he bring himself to love [Name] when the girl of his dreams liked him, too?
I'd rather see them happy together. So happy that it'll show just how ridiculous it is for me to want him. Until I can't even dream of it anymore.
Because that was how it should be.
This was the reality.
[Name] loves Karasu that much was true.
But... Karasu loved Marisa… and no power on earth was going to change that.
---
"Isn't this strange," Tsubame, Karasu's older sister, mused, looking up from her schoolwork all the way from the dining room table to stare at her little brother's entrance like he was some strange lab experiment gone wrong.
"What's strange?" Tabito questions, yanking his shoe off with all his usual carelessness before haphazardly shoving them into the cabinet by the door.
"Yer not with [Name]-chan."
Tsubame now stood before him, an inch taller than him, courtesy of the higher leveling of their living room from their entryway.
"Didja get in a fight with her or somethin'?" She buzzed around the taller male like a bee, completely forgetting about her work still littered on the table. "Finally win? Yer count is on an outstanding three to fourty seven, those three wins because you cheated!"
Karasu dodged his sister's nosiness, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to fill it with his usual kelp tea.
"We didn't fight," he mumbles, from his spot, he could see past the window above the kitchen sink and to the window of [Name]'s living room. "She was just tired 's all." He answers mindlessly, rinsing off his glass before turning to leave, brushing past his older sister and her simmering curiosity.
Tabito didn't understand it himself.
That was supposed to feel like mission accomplished! He should've been over the moon, even reaching farther than the center of the galaxy... but he wasn't.
He blamed it on the mushroom he was forced to eat! He blamed it on the karate team's coach. He blamed it on destiny, on fate, on any other higher being messing with him and laughing in the coves of their habitats!
Most of all... he blamed himself.
Whose fault was it other than his that all [Name]’s hard work got burnt to the ground?
Because when he talked to Marisa for the first time in three years—just when he thought it would be a lasting moment that would echo for all eternities to come—he felt absolutely nothing. Like that day back in elementary graduation. Completely impassive from that girl's confession.
Empty.
He didn’t even recognize Marisa! He called her a loser! And despite having her right next to him, within arms’ reach, close enough to hold, all the bit possible to touch… all he could think about was the girl sitting in front of him.
How her eyes looked too tired, that she probably wanted nothing more than to sleep, or get that tournament trophy over and done with and goof around.
Everything about Marisa blended with all the colors of the earth, nothing but a backdrop to make everything else shine. Her voice fading to a dull echo until all he could hear was the silence…
"Ya can't keep denying, Tabi-chan."
...Silence left by the lack of [Name]'s presence.
It must be witchcraft; someone must've cast a spell on him on the way home! That must be it! Because why on earth was he hearing [Name]'s voice in the safety of his home when he very much clearly saw her walk through her front door and shut the door in his face?
He blamed it for forgetting to clean his ears earlier, because the next words he heard came in the form of his sister's voice. "If there's somethin’ ya wanna say to her then ya better say it."
It was Tsubame-nee-chan from the very beginning.
It was just Tabito thinking otherwise. It was him summoning all these hallucinations of [Name]. Conjuring the image of her in the afternoon haze, seeing her face in the breaks of dawn, hearing her voice in the horizons of twilight. It was all him. All him.
"It'll make ya feel better if yer just honest with yerself. Do it now while ya still have the time." Tsubame places a comforting hand on her little—who is now not so little—brother's shoulder. "Regret always comes when the moment's over."
"Does this come from yer personal experience?" Tabito shot back, evading what he already feels engraving in his heart.
"Imma let that slide, you ungrateful brat," Tsubame smiles through her irritation, before it quickly thaws to a sigh, "It's an old saying, Tabito. 'Repentance comes too late' or 'the biggest fish is always the one that got away'." She shakes her head, tired of her brother being an idiot!
"While she's still there, just tell her how you really feel."
"What's that s'posed to mean?" he barks, aggravated by the hidden implication, he didn't like that—
"Oh, please! Assess yerself for once!" Tsubame yells, throwing her hands fed up with this idiot’s stubbornness, turning her back and retreating to the dining table to continue her work. “Ya shouldn’t need someone to spell it out fer ya! Figure it out like man, ya idiot!”
His sister’s words strike true, rattling the peace within his great fortress of denial. The weight of it left him standing there in the ruins of his cowardness, unsure if he should rebuild the remnants of something he once had thought would stand for eternity.
Tabito needed to know that for himself, he knew that. He also knew that he shouldn't need an external force to have him work on his tangled feelings of friendship and love, because it would make it meaningless. He needed to find that out on his own.
He needed to do all that gruelling powder and brushwork on his own accord and find out for himself where exactly did he cross the line between friends and 'I guess spending life with you wouldn't be so bad'.
[Name] was always there.
Everywhere he looked, in every memory he held, she existed. No matter what point in his life he travels back to—she was just... there.
All the memories he could recall had remnants of her: a smile, her daunting laugh, the pain of her kicks, the scent of daylight that lingers around wherever she goes. She was there. In everything. Everywhere. In all the colors of the sun.
The heat from soccer practice. The gentle gale of spring. The moon in all its glory. She was there. The laughter echoing in the streets. A shadow in the playground. The starting thought before daybreak. A lingering memory before he succumbs to slumber. She was there.
In all his thoughts, every action, every smile, every laugh... they all led back to her. The fall of snow, the rain of petals, the crashing waves, the eternal saturated autumn sky.
There's a piece of her in everything.
When did it all change?
When did I start seeing you like this? When did I go so far beyond the boundary that I couldn't see that everything was blurring past all the colors of friends? When did I start missing the sound of your voice? When did I start staying in the illusion that I didn't see you more than a friend?
When did I...
This was the reality.
An undeniable truth he had always run away from. Choosing to cower behind the fragments of a past he had long swept out of his heart.
He was in love with her.
Karasu Tabito... was in love with [Name].
And he has been for a long time.
---
When Monday morning came in, Karasu showed up on her doorstep with his uniform thrown on his figure looking like a whirlwind passed him by on his way to her house.
He gave her his usual smirk, trying to bite at her ego from the way he stares at her. Condescending from an outsider’s words; lovesick from his.
“Didja run twenty before comin’ here on somethin’?” She teased, fixing his crooked tie with a laugh.
Karasu stares at her face scrunched into concentration, his head buzzing from the drumming of his heart—reaching all the way to the tip of his fingers. He prayed to all the deities out there that she couldn’t hear the way his chest wanted to split open from the lingering warmth of her touch. Or that she couldn’t feel that his body was emitting more heat from her close proximity.
Did he do this on purpose? No.
But for once he thanked all the cells in his body for working late on a Monday morning because he gets to be at the receiving end of [Name]’s warm touches.
“Tabi-chan? Are ya listenin’?”
Karasu’s momentary reverie crumbled at the sound of her voice. [Name] eyes him with heavy concertation, tilting her head as she looks up at him, her hand now holding onto the strap of her bag.
“Sorry, what were you sayin’?” he whispers, his breath falling short and had his words tumbling like the wind, left for only his and the earth to hear.
[Name] paid no mind to his strange demeanor, shifting her weight from one foot to another and looked at anything but his searching gaze.
“I said I was sorry,” she purses her lips together, the words didn’t taste particularly unpleasant, but the reminder of their laughter still haunted her more than she’d like to admit. “Fer cuttin’ yer date short with ‘er, I mean.” She clarifies, shutting the door behind her as she steps a foot onto the front lawn, walking past Karasu who stood on her porch a moment longer than usual.
Karasu quickly pulled himself together and closed the distance she put between them in a few large strides, slyly taking her bag with her as he distracted her with conversation.
"'S nothin'. We had a talk while ye were dyin' in the bathroom," he muses, poking at her side to rile her up.
"Hey! I wasn't dyin'—" [Name] rose to protest, because she really wasn’t. She excused herself to the bathroom to spit out whatever the hell it was that she ate—"Their bread had raisins on them. Raisins. I hate raisins." She argues defensively, crossing her arms over her chest… entirely unaware that her bag was no longer in her hold.
"Could've given them to me," Karasu shrugs, leaning half his weight on her, a terrible habit he developed when they were nine years old and hasn’t grown out of ever since.
[Name] dragged her weight to her legs, trying to keep both him and her upright. She doesn’t wanna topple over the sidewalk... again. It’s happened too many times already, and with more than at least ten of their neighbors seeing.
"Not in front of yer Mona Lisa," [Name] sneers, pushing his ever-drawing face away.
"Puhlease, she's hardly a Mona Lisa." Karasu comments, voice mumbled by the nice-smelling hand that belonged to the girl next to him.
[Name] was not sure how to respond to that. The truth was that they left the café after they finished eating. But some might think, oh, isn’t that what you do though? Well, it was what she wanted to do. She planned that meet-up to end with Karasu and Marisa living happily ever after. But as she went to the bathroom, came back, and told Karasu that she had to go home because she wasn’t feeling well—he offered to walk her home. It was what a good friend does, really it was. But you don’t do that when the girl you like is standing right next to you!
Plus, they talked about that! [Name] told him that she was gonna make up some dumb excuse to get them alone. This was the dumb excuse! But he was being more of an idiot than the idiotic excuse leaving her lips.
In the end, they ended up bidding her farewell… with Karasu lying through his teeth that he was gonna come back—not that [Name] knew that considering she was far too busy glaring at him from the side.
"Marisa... has a boyfriend already,"
Karasu’s voice froze the gaping silence between them, his words flying into the blue skies, forever left to find their way to the land of acceptance Karasu has long since passed.
[Name] looked at him in shock, stumbling over her step before regaining her footing only to gawk at him again.
Is that true? Did Marisa really have a boyfriend? Since when? I never saw that on her socials. Did Karasu confess or something? Or was Marisa possessed by some sort of psychedelic mind reader?
[Name] would never know… and she reckons Karasu was never gonna talk about it either. She knows that look, when his eyes stare so far into the distance she begins to wonder if he was seeing a portal to another universe open before his eyes, let’s not talk about it.
"Oh... uhmm,” she starts; racking her brain for an appropriate response that wasn’t Hell yes! or Woo hoo! because that was not appropriate in the least. “That's rough buddy." She awkwardly pats his back, only this time, she had no melted, half-eaten popsicle to offer him. Only a heart, battered and bruised, covered in bandages and held together by a thread… that will only ever be his.
"Ya know, I thought I’d be more upset about it." Karasu looks to the heavens, oddly vocal about what he feels.
Maybe it was morning dew refracted by the early morning rays. Maybe it was the autumn gale, ruffling the threads of his clothes. Maybe it was because of her—of [Name].
She looks at him with a raised brow, "And ya aren't?"
He smiles at her, one so gentle it could rival the clouds, replace the sun in warmth… dethrone Aphrodite from her position. “No,” he whispers, “No I’m not.”
He takes it all in, the image of her in this light. Karasu traces the contours of her face, the dust of roses powdered on the hills of her cheeks, the shine of a thousand galaxies in the pools of her irises.
Karasu was never one to believe in magic, or the supernatural… he couldn’t even consider himself an avid fan of the faerie folk.
But if somehow, somewhere—in this vast infiniteness, in the depths of the parallels, and the lullabies of the unknown—if there existed a figure for love, he was sure that it would be her.
"Maybe it's cuz I never liked her enough to begin with."
His confession slipped past his lips in a low murmur, faint enough that it could pass as a song of the fall, but she heard it. Always. Because what else could explain the reason that [Name] had suddenly started choking on her spit.
"Oi! Ya alright? Hey! [Name]! Don't die!" Karasu panics.
"Whaddaya mean ya don't like her?!” She screams, shoulders heaving from the sudden strain on her lungs. “What's all that work for then? Didya lie to me? Karasu Tabito—"
Her tone sent shivers crawling through his spine. "Woah,” he raises his arms in surrender. “Don't go drawin' the full name card on me [Name]." he tries to laugh it off, but the look in her unimpressed eyes told him that he needed to say something else.
"I did get somethin' out of yer hard work," he smiles.
"Which is?" [Name] nods in anticipation, leaning closer.
"Realizin' I don't like her anymore."
[Name] draws a deep breath, releasing it in an exaggerated huff of air, and without another word, continued to walk to school.
This was hopeless.
She walked in front of him. One, because she didn’t want to look at his face at the moment. And two, so that he won’t be a witness to her burning cheeks and her desperately suppressed smile. Yeah, no way in hell was she letting him see that!
"Told ya about it remember?" he calls from behind, a good four to five steps apart.
"I can barely remember what I ate yesterday, ya gotta be more specific."
Karasu stares at the back of her head, a view he’d seen for at least half his life already. "That day… by the seaside."
[Name] remained wordless; she remembers that vividly. Because how could she ever bring herself to forget?
The day that she…
"Ya have the memory of a goldfish," Karasu groans, every bit the telenovela star he was. "I told ya, getting’ love ain't everythin' in this world."
…began to like this guy.
"Oh." She whispers.
"Remember now?"
That memory had always been something she treasured, never an ephemeral wandering like a half-buried shell washed ashore.
[Name] looks to him from over her shoulder as she nods in confirmation. "What's that gotta do with this though?" She continues ever forward, eyes once more trailing to focus on the pavement before her.
Karasu’s answer got stuck in the tunnels of his throat, like his own brain was unsure of the reason why he brought it up in the first place. He just wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice echo for all eternity in the caves of his soul, even long after he’s left this world. "Losin' an ordinary girl ain't worth it to be upset over."
[Name]’s footsteps falters, the edge of her shoe getting caught by a crack appearing out of nowhere, much like her own traitorous heart, once again caught in the snares of his words. The words someone spoke to her long ago echoing in her head, you two are finally reaching the age of maturity. Finally—after so, so long—brave enough to let go of the things that weren’t meant to stay, and to be strong enough to accept those who were supposed to.
"Woah," this time, [Name] turned to face him with a skin-crawling grin, an all too familiar shape, he thinks.
"Who ever knew a day would come when Karasu Tabito calls his lifelong love an ordinary girl—"
"She wasn't a lifelong love!"
---
It took a long time for Karasu to gather the dust and form the courage to profess his love for [Name].
He was cocky, and overconfident, and rough and ragged around the edges, and disliked it when anything went wrong. Basically, he was his own enemy when it came to his own love life. Sure, people liked him enough to give him Valentine’s Day chocolates, but the issue lies in him, not his admirers. For the life of him, he could not be nice to anyone he saw as mundane or boring. He was an—in the nicest way possible—Karasu Tabito was an asshole. His smirk didn’t help his case one bit.
Oh, but how humbling an experience it is for him when she was the one standing before him. The great, I’m-gonna-make-you-see-yer-ordinary Karasu Tabito who stared down his opponents on the field, was afraid to tell his best friend that he liked her.
That’s why he had dragged his feelings by the collar all the way to their second year of high school. His sister had more than a few not-so-nice things to say about him when she heard that up until now, he was still shaking in his elementary school boy shorts.
But could they blame him? Yeah, they really could. Even his parents looked at him weirdly when he always offered to wash the dishes at night because it gave him the excuse to see [Name] from the comforts of her living room.
Still, here he was—beating around the bush with the girl he likes.
But could they really blame him? This was [Name]! The one who could brawl in a gang fight barehanded and win. [Name] who had the nicest laugh and the warmest touch. It was [Name] whom he liked… [Name] who was dyed in all the colors of the sun.
And he was scared to lose her.
Karasu didn’t want to mess this up because not only will he lose her as a lover, but he’d also be left to live in a world where he was no longer her best friend.
What if he did confess and she turns him down?
What then?
In his eyes, compared to her—[Name] who was everything in his world—to [Name] who had the nicest smile, and the happiest laugh, Karasu felt mundane in all the aspects of his life.
So sometimes, when his own emotions overwhelm him as he gets so lost just thinking about her in the silence of the night, he tells himself that maybe, it was fine like this.
Tabito and [Name]; [Name] and tabito. Best friends.
Maybe, he should just shut them in, keep it all inside and wait for it to go away, pray for it to go away. He was having loads of fun already. They were together all the time. Maybe... just maybe... it's fine like this. Maybe staying as childhood friends—as best friends forever—isn't so bad.
"Why're ya dressed like an old man?" [Name] raised a brow at him, lips twitching as she fought tooth and nail to swallow her laugh. Her eyes analyze his get-up from head to toe, taking in his fake white beard down to his green yukata and his grey haori, and the geta on his feet that echoed with every exaggerated step; wooden footwear she saw inside her grandpa's shoe cabinet. He was hunched over like a shrimp, with a cane to support his weight.
"'S for the class!" he replies with enthusiasm, stroking his fake white beard like some wise old monk.
"Ya look like a senile old man." [Name] snorts, her restraint shattering at the angry look on his face as her laugh resonates in the crowded hallway. She adjusts her grip on the box of props, shoulders shaking from the little giggles that seeped from her lips.
Karasu cracked an eye open to glare at her, and with an added pizzazz, rose in hand to counter—more like agree—with her. "I am a senile old man!"
[Name] laughed harder, the box rattling like the happiness that rippled the once-serene calmness of her soul. "Ya sound just like gramps!" She breathes, wiping her eye on the cloth of her shoulder.
Karasu grumbles in defeat, knowing he couldn't win against [Name] and her oh-so-creative teasing.
He dropped the act and adjusted his posture to stand to his full height, ultimately noting that [Name] had stopped laughing once she realizes that in height, Karasu would always have the last laugh. Or in this case, a triumphant smirk on his face as he eyes her from above, not even craning his head.
She squints her eyes at him. “Damn evolution,” she mutters under her breath and made sure her voice was loud and clear as she finishes her sentence with— “Since when did idiots grow to be so tall?!”
[Name] hmphed, turning her head to look away and sidestepped to get past him to move onward to her destination, but before she could, Karasu shifted to block her path.
"What is it now—" The words got lodged in the tunnels of her throat as the weight of the box she’s been carrying since the school gate suddenly disappeared from her arms.
She looked at him, startled to find him looking at anywhere but her. The autumn daylight made the crimson on his cheeks all the more prominent.
Karasu couldn’t bring himself to believe that he could ever be happy with being just her friend. He reckons he never will. It would kill him not to love her beyond all this. If there ever existed a universe where he was contented with that—he was damn sure it would not be this one.
Because he as much as he was cocky, and overconfident, and an asshole. Karasu was greedy. And he was selfish. And painfully stubborn.
"Just helpin' the pretty girl lift the heavy boxes."
[Name]’s face erupted into a thousand shades of red, but this time, she had nothing to use to hide it from him. He caught her by surprise. A dirty trick. Ambushed her to this—this… vulnerable position. She could feel fire spread through her veins like lava, setting all in its wake into a melting heat, burning at the thorns of her restraint, drowning the caves of her hesitance to a resounding calm, and lighting the heavens of her soul into all the colors of the sun.
She hated this. Stupid Tabito. Before she could contain herself, her embarrassment took reign of her actions, her knee jerked up, landing a solid kick to the back of his thighs.
"Ow!" He yelps, did Karasu ever mention that her kicks were heavy? Well, they were. The force of her assault had him fumbling over his own steps, but he could not stop the growing smile on his face.
"Get goin' old man!" she snaps, crossing her arms and glaring at all the things around them. She was flustered. Her body couldn’t decide if she liked it or hated it. Why does he find the need to say that? Why does Karasu have to be so—so… embarrassing?
[Name] buries her face in the palm of her hands, as if her own flaming limb could help cool the raging inferno on her face. Her mind replays his words like a broken record. Pretty girl. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he even mean that? Probably. That stupid crow always pushed her so far, teased her to no end. So, what was the difference this time?
Karasu laughs, a sound so cool and warm, the sting from his best friend’s kick fading to a dull echo. His gaze was made from the softest threads, one so intertwined with the melody of affection, blanketed with the warmest colors.
…Maybe it’s because this time around, he actually means it.
And this time, he wasn’t afraid to say it to her.
This one will probably come around to bite him back, but he would take it. Anything the world throws at him—he would take it. Because he wouldn’t allow himself to see another sun if [Name] didn’t go to sleep not knowing that she’s pretty.
---
The day of the school's culture festival rolled around.
For the past three weeks, their class united on the single idea of setting up a little café. By some miracle, they actually pulled it off quite well, despite battling the initial deadline, heavily handicapped at the loss of their two athletes. Between Karasu’s rigorous training schedule and [Name]’s tyrant of a coach monopolizing every spare second of her time for practice, there was no way they were ever going to contribute much beyond the bare minimum.
But [Name] did not want to be dead weight.
She volunteered to carry the boxes containing the ingredients and decorations, carrying them across campus like a one-woman moving company. While Karasu was left with no other option but to dress up like an old man inviting people to come and buy—he would probably garner more attention if he stayed just the way he is, but with his sharp tongue and domineering stare, he would just scare all their customers away (not like a beard and a yukata could hold his words back).
By the time the sun had reached the middle of the sky, they already looked like they wanted to go home—both completely floored from the physical work.
[Name] sat crisscross apple sauce outside the classroom, her back against the wall, and Karasu plopped down beside her, stretching his legs out with a groan—no respect for anyone walking by, his legs were nearly occupying a quarter of the hallway!
Their lunches were as mismatched as their personalities: [Name] poked at the pasta littered with raisins while Karasu grimaced at the sight of mushrooms contaminating his bento.
He knew he should be thankful to his sister who had oh-so-kindly offered to make them lunch seeing as she was on break from college, but Tabito has already told her like a million times! He doesn’t like mushrooms, [Name] does. And [Name] didn’t like raisins, he did!
Without a word, he begins plucking the raisins out of her food like they were newly ripe fruits ready to sell, dumping them on the lid of his bento. In honor of distributive justice, he traded in all the mushrooms he had on his lunch to hers.
"Yer actin' weird," she mutters through a mouthful of pasta, eyeing him from where she sat.
"Whatcha talkin' 'bout, I've always been this kind." He retorts, smiling to convey his sincerity as he places a hand over his heart like it could vouch for his claims.
"Kind-a suspicious ya mean!" [Name] squints at him, pointing a stick of bread at his face. "Just say whatcha wanna say already!"
"Yer ovethinkin' it! I'm always like this!" he defended, not bothering to hide the way he eyes [Name]’s stick of bread.
If he were to just…
"Hey, Tabi-chan...” her call drew the curtains close to his evil scheme. “What would you do if I got a boyfriend?"
Her question silenced the chaos in his head, pulling apart at all the worlds he built until everything came to a standstill. Until he was surrounded by the never-ending nothingness that came with the weight of her question. Heavier than all the stars, so it seems. Why was she saying this? Why now? Why does it have to be now? Now that he was finally—
But she didn’t wait for an answer. Maybe he was perturbed by his silence, mistaking it for agreement. Yet the truth was that she just caught him off guard.
Like [Name]… he didn’t hold all the answers in the world.
"I probably wouldn't, huh?" she laughs, smiling despite the obvious squeeze in her throat. A jest, in the kindest words; hurt, in the worst. "No one's ever gonna want a brute like me."
That's not true, Karasu wanted to protest. What she spoke of couldn't have been farther from the truth.
He didn’t want her to think like that—she just couldn’t. She was someone who deserved the love she wanted to have… more than anyone else. And he wanted to say that to her. He wanted to tell her desperately that there was someone who loved her—hell, so many people loved her.
Every day, he raced against so many people for her affection, for a chance to feel what it’s like to be loved by someone like her.
"There's gotta be someone out there, right?" he offers. Or right here... if you can only look at me. "Someone who'll love you… just fer who ya are."
"Ya really believe in that?" she asked, laughing again, but this time it sounded more like an escape. She wraps the furoshiki on the bento box, her hands moving far too quickly that Karasu knew she was doing it just so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
But that didn’t matter. She could turn a blind eye to him today. He would wait. Ignore his attempts tomorrow—he would still wait. Stay oblivious to it for the next five years? Then he’ll just have to step up his game.
"I know it."
There was something about the way he said it, shacked by all the chains of his beliefs, as though there could exist no surer thing than what he knew right at this very moment.
It took her by surprise, stole all the breath reserved in her lungs that she forgot that she needed to breathe to see the next day.
“Ya don’t even need to wish fer that,” he adds, voice steadied by the foundation of his own experiences. “They come naturally,” he continues.
In all the forms you can think of. A piece of paper with the things about yer crush. A soccer ball. The kicking pad almost takin’ yer head off. Or a melting, half-eaten popsicle on a summer day.
“Sometimes… ya never realize ya had them all along.”
[Name] formed her courage from the dust, turning to look at him, despite every pull of gravity telling her not to.
He was never gonna make forgetting him easy, was he? Perhaps he never wanted her to forget. Because how could she when Karasu says all these things that made her heart want to run out of her own chest? When he says all these that it leads her back to her planet-sized crush on him. How was she supposed to get away from him now? How was she supposed to move on? How was she going to ever fully deny that she didn't like him anymore when in everything, everywhere... all the roads lead straight back to him?
“And ya don’t need to wish for him to love you…”
Karasu smiles at her, one so different from all the others he ever gave her. Dyed in all the colors of gratitude, blessed by the heavens, shaded in all the colors of the sun.
“Because he already does.”
---
"Why'd we hafta go, Tabi-chan?" [Name] whines, tired from all the walking they had been doing for the last thirty minutes, now tired from all the hiking—seriously, who hikes in the evening?
"Whaddaya mean why?” Karasu shot back, raising a questioning brow at her complaint. “We always go every year! And don't act like ya don't like it when yer all dressed up." he points to her yukata, dyed in the shade of violets, decorated with the flowing river in the form of cranes. Karasu had to leash his head and make a conscious effort not to look too much lest he risk getting reported for being a creep.
"Only cuz Ma made me,” she admits, tugging slightly at her obi. “Always naggin' 'bout actin' like a girl and lookin' like a girl as if I ain't a girl." She huffs, the corners of her lips weaving into a scowl.
Karasu tilted his head in fond gentleness. “You look beautiful,” he whispers, the sentiment flowing past his lips like the gentle spring breeze. “Yer always beautiful.”
His words crashed against her like a tidal wave: caressing the soles of her feet, drawing back, before coming at her all at once—with little to no warning at all.
[Name] tilts her head to the side to look at him, smiling at him with all the happiness in the universe. “Ya don't look too shabby yerself, Tabito."
Before he could fire back, Karasu caught a glimpse of sparks tracing the obsidian sky, rising to reach the heavens for it to fracture into a thousand colorful fires, dyeing the obsidian canvas with all the colors of man.
Yet he already saw something far more grandeur than those when he looked into the pools of her eyes—reflecting all the stardust and galaxies as if everything existed just so they could dim when compared to her, like it all came to being, just so they could fall short when she breathes.
"They're so pretty..." she whispers in awe, smiling at the sight of the transient lights.
"Yeah," he hums mindlessly, but his eyes never left hers. You are beautiful.
"I like you, [Name]." Karasu’s words silenced the chaos of the world, as if everything spiralled into nothingness to create a space only the two of them shared.
[Name] stares at him in bewilderment, her lips parted slightly, not knowing what to say.
"Don't look so surprised,” Karasu berates her with a crooked grin. “Whatcha expect? I'm only human, ya know. Ain't immune to yer charms."
"Tabito what the hell—"
Her vision burst forth into multitudes of colors at the sight of him, red-faced, flustered beyond her wildest imagination, eyes that shone with all the bravery and strength in the world, still his voice is riddled with a careful gentleness—like if he spoke any louder, this ephemeral space would crumble and he’d find himself back to reality. But his words would resound in the depths and skies of her soul for all the eternities to come, until all the stars are nothing but a dream. Until the earth is painted with all the colors of the sun.
"I'm in love with you," he confesses, his hand reaching for hers. Shaking from his nerves, determined in his affection.
His eyes searched hers for traces of disdain, any hints that she didn’t want this. Karasu dug through the colors of her face for anything—anything that told him to go away, to never show his face to her ever again.
"And I have been for a long time."
His touch lingered, hesitant to take another step forward.
"I know I'm nothin' much.” He admits, pained at the thought of his own imperfections. “I get jealous easily, and I can't be nice to mediocre people. I can't swim, and I'm afraid of water. I'm prolly the last person ya'd ever want to love ya but..." he falters, his breaths coming in short intakes as he scavenged the lands of his soul for the right words to say—for the courage he had stacked upon one another.
“I don’t—” His voice cracks, holding her hand tightly as if her touch could piece back his crumbling confidence. “I want ya to be happy. God knows that I do. But I don't want to lose ya to anyone else.” But it seems like her warmth could not hold together his voice that shattered from the weight. “I’m selfish. And I’m greedy. If you still have space in yer heart for a little bit more of me, even if the odds are one to a million... then I'd want to have it.”
I'd risk everything to have it.
Karasu looked at her again, mapping the face of the one he loves, breathing heavily until he found the words he always wanted to say. "Yer beautiful. Yer smart, and strong. Anyone would be lucky to have ya love 'em."
He smiled weakly, voice softening to melt into the silence of the night.
"And... I'm just an ordinary guy, standin' in front of the most amazing girl... askin’ her to love him."
He could wait a thousand more years if she told him to. Capture every star in the sky if it makes her happy. Karasu would move the universe for her, and she would only ever need to ask.
He would color the world to her liking if she tells him to.
“Yer an idiot are’ntcha?”
Karasu raised his head to meet the sound of her voice. God, she was so beautiful.
“I guess I am,” he laughs.
“Good on ya that I like idiots.” She tightens her hold on his hand, smiling at him for all that he did and more.
Because people can’t love you exactly the way you want them to.
You just have to let them try to do their best.
I think I got sidetracked halfway tbh 💀this is my first time writing a non-tragedy paleontological disaster-ending fic also my first time writing for karasu because he wouldn't leave me alone 😭 I can't believe I managed to give birth to a fic in under four??? yeah four days. I think I began liking this guy like five days ago for some unknown reason 💀 anyway, my requests are still open, and ya can read my other works here! thanks fer readin' 😁❤
#chiya's head rent 🎐#ao3#bllk#blue lock#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#karasu tabito#karasu x reader#karasu tabito x reader#karasu x you#karasu blue lock#karasu this karasu that I am going crazy like seriously wtf is happening to me??????!!!!!!!#denial of feelings because who in their right minds would ever admit that they had fallen for their bestfriends#and it's funny lol I had too much fun with this#isagi yoichi#otoya eita#yukimiya kenyu#hiori yo#bachira meguru#chigiri hyoma#i'm going insane 😭
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Chemical Valley
(The Intern x Red Hood)
After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?
The Intern Collection:
Prequel: Death of a family
The Intern: Day one
The Intern: The Laughing Fish
The Intern: Busy Work
The Intern: Outreach Gala
The Intern: Teachers Pet
The Intern: Visiting an old friend
The Intern: Chemical Valley
The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club
I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.
"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."
I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.
"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.
Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.
"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.
Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.
"Oh well... that's progress."
Harris laughs.
"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "
I raise an eyebrow.
"You wanna elaborate?"
He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.
"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."
That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.
A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?
Harris rolls down the window.
"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."
Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice
"What do you have for me Dr.?"
"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."
Hood nods, then glances in my direction.
"I'll keep an eye out."
"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."
"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.
I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.
"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."
Dr. Harris whips his head around.
"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.
I flash him a shit-eating grin.
"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."
Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.
"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."
From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.
"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."
"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.
The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.
There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.
After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows furrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.
Glancing at Red Hood, I state
"There is no way this is legal."
Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies
"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."
My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.
"Somebody must have tried."
Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.
"Somebody did try."
Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."
I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.
Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...
Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.
Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.
I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.
"Are you alright?"
I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.
"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.
Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.
"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."
A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.
"It works. I promise."
Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.
"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"
The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.
"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "
I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.
"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."
Hood stays silent weighing out my words.
"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.
I can almost hear a smile in his voice.
"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.
Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.
"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"
I give him a friendly shove.
"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."
He laughs climbing to his feet.
"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."
"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.
"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"
I shrug.
"It's Gotham. "
After a few moments of comfortable silence, he asks
"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"
I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.
Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.
"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.
Red Hood doesn't say anything.
"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."
Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.
Oh.. That's why.
Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd#dick grayson x reader#batbros#batfamily#batfamily x reader#batfam#batman#bruce wayne#red hood#red hood x reader#dc x reader#red hood x you#dick grayson#damian wayne#alfred pennyworth#tim drake x reader#tim drake#batman imagine#batman comics#dc comics#batgirl#batfamily fluff#dc robin#batfamily headcanons#red hood and the outlaws#red robin x reader#robin x reader#robin
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。𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter ten
synopsis: batman comes for a visit. and phosphorus makes a rather "heartfelt" confession.
cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, violence, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus
a/n: anon... this is for you ;) you know who u are
One month later.
"Let me get this straight... you want to stay here in Belle Reve?"
"Yes."
"And you don't want to go back to Arkham?"
"Nope."
Taking in a deep inhale, Batman let out a long exhale through his nose.
"I don't suppose this has something to do with Alexander Sartorius?"
"Whaaaaat? What makes you say that?"
His brows flattened, and you realized his gaze wasn't on you, but rather on something outside of the window behind you.
Warily, you turned around, only to see Phosphorus fighting against a swarm of guards trying to detain him.
"You're not taking her back to Arkham, Batman!" he exclaimed, using his head to bang against the glass since his hands were cuffed behind his back. "I'll burn this whole place down!"
Your eyes shot wide.
"Don't say that, you idiot! They'll add to your time!"
"I don't think a few extra years is doing much to his triple life-sentence..." Batman assured in a monotone.
You could practically hear the judgement in his voice, its presence distinguishable from a mile away.
With a sigh, you turned around, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Alright... maybe it does have something to do with him... so what?"
"He's psychotic."
"It wasn't too long ago that the shrinks at Arkham thought I was psychotic."
"Demonic possession is not recognized by any court in this country. It was either that or be declared as legally insane. And if that were to have happened, they would've—"
"Locked me up and threw away the key? Believe me, I know."
With a huff, you slumped slightly in your chair, your gaze falling to the floor, before slowly gliding up to him.
"He's charming."
"Most psychopaths are."
"Do you think I would be anywhere near him if I thought he was a threat to me?"
"Love can make sane people do irrational things, (y/n). I've seen it before, and I've seen the road it leads to."
"I am not Harley Quinn."
"And he's not Joker?"
"This seems very hypocritical considering you-know-who..."
At the mention of Selina, Batman cleared his throat, quickly shifting the conversation by sliding a manila folder across the table.
"This is not what I came here to talk about."
Glancing at the file, your eyes quickly landed on the JL insignia printed boldly on the cover.
"...You're joking."
"I think you would be a good addition to our ranks."
"You gonna open a Belle Reve chapter of the Justice League? Start recruiting inmates?"
"You're not an inmate. You haven't committed a crime."
"I've murdered and cannibalized hundreds of men, women, and children."
"That wasn't your crime."
"Oh, yes, civilian! Let me save you from this burning building! Oh, no! I bit your arm off. Try again next week?"
"According to your psych evaluation, the demon has repressed herself with no signs of returning in the near future."
"Mahalat may be docile now, but I can't promise that when the stakes get high, she won't return to her old ways," you stated, seriously. "I may have placated her into not eating everything in sight, but that doesn't mean she won't eat period. And with the Justice League's no-kill motto, I'm sure I'd be nothing but a social pariah."
"You shouldn't have to spend your life behind bars because of the mistakes your parents made."
Slowly, a small smile cracked onto your lips, heart warmed by the hero's declaration.
Batman had always been so kind to you, no matter how frightening or menacing you could be.
He made it a point to make sure you were well-taken care of, covering everything from your legal fees to your original, self-admitted stay at Arkham.
He was a gentleman—with nothing but your best interests in mind—and the kindest person you had ever met.
"I'm a danger to the public, Bats... And myself," you started, softly, resting a careful, reddened hand over his gloved one. "If staying in here means I don't harm another innocent person, then I'll do it, no questions asked."
Expression firming, you stood from your seat.
"But I'm no hero."
Memories flashed behind your eyes, images of dead bodies, half-eaten limbs, screaming children.
You were far from innocent in this whole endeavor.
"The people I've hurt... the lives I've taken... that can't be redeemed by saving cats from tress..." you stated, seriously. "Each and every one of them deserves justice... and I'll be damned if I get off scot-free."
Unable to catch it, a stray tear rolled down your cheek, forcing Batman to stand up.
"So don't worry about me, alright? I'm sure you've got more important things to be doing than checking up on some—"
Before you could even finish your sentence, you were enveloped in a hug.
A surprisingly warm, surprisingly tender hug.
From Batman.
'No. Way.'
You could hear Phosphorus going absolutely ballistic in the background, shouting something along the lines of "Get your hands off her!" as he beat against the glass.
But you were too taken aback to even notice.
Just as quickly, as he came, Batman pulled away, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"You're a good person, (y/n)... Don't torture yourself with the past."
And with that, he picked up his file and exited the room, enduring a few seconds of beratement from Phosphorus before making it past and continuing on down the hall.
Exiting yourself, you were instantly bombarded with questions by your irradiated lover.
"What did he say? Is he taking you to Arkham? How soon? We have time to make an escape plan? Waller won't let this happen, right?"
"I'm staying here, Alex," you giggled, amused. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, thank, God."
"Alright, lovebirds. Chow hall. Now," one of the guards barked, quickly un-cuffing the man before shoving him toward the entrance to the dining room, allowing you to walk over.
"Why the hell did he give you a hug?" Phosphorus asked, muttering a few curses at the guard under his breath as he rubbed his wrists. "Bastard's known for being a hard-ass, but the moment he comes around you all of a sudden he feels like handing out hugs?"
You chuckled, entertained by his jealousy.
"You're crazy."
"I'm right," he corrected.
"Y'know, I never took you for the possessive type."
"I don't like people touching what's mine."
At that, you stopped in your tracks, raising a brow as you poked a finger in his chest.
"And what about you? You have this my my my, mine mine mine thing going on. But what about me? Are you mine? Or is this ownership a one-way street?"
"'Course I'm yours, doll face," he answered, smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, sending a ripple of warmth through your stomach. "I thought that was a given."
"Alex, how the hell is that a given?"
"If I say you're mine, it's obvious that the same goes for me to you."
"No. Not obvious at all."
"It's totally obvious!"
"Nope... but now that I know, I wanna hear you say it."
"You wanna hear me say it?"
"Yup."
"And you wanna call me possessive?"
"I can always ask G.I."
"Yeah, good luck getting anything outta him."
"Leaving..."
"I'm yours," he caved, quickly grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you back. "Your guy, your man, I still don't give a shit what you wanna call it."
He let out a quiet sigh, lowering his voice so only you could hear.
"I'm yours. And you get to touch me and hold me and kiss me whenever you like... in exchange for mind-blowing sex."
You grinned, giving him a knowing nudge.
It sounded even better when he said it...
"See? Now was that so hard?"
"On the contrary, I think I felt an artery harden."
"Asshole!"
"You know you love me~"
"Fuck off."
"There she is."
#creature commandos#creature commandos x reader#dc#dc x reader#dcu#dcu x reader#doctor phosphorus#doctor phosphorus x reader#dr phosphorus#dr phosphorus x reader
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Non-Emergencies
----------------------------------------------------
Warnings: Fluff, use of Y/N
Prompt: Your Grandma calls 911 to flirt with the firefighters
Notes: Female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.
-With that said it's all under the cut-
Your grandma needed a little extra help around the house after her hip replacement so you, your mother and father were taking care of her. Currently you were on Grandma duty for the next six hours.
"You should see the firefighters at the station near here, they are just the cutest and the one with the little mark above his eyebrow? Oh, you'd really like him."
You left her alone for five minutes while you got the Uber Eats order and she had already made the call to 911. She put the phone down like she hadn't just commited a crime so of course you expected that maybe she'd called a friend or answered the phone or something, something really benign.
"LAFD, Ma'am are you alright." The 118 had seen your grandmother before, she was a 'frequent flyer' is what they called her. She did often call when she was lonely or couldn't understand how to turn on the tv but she secretly wanted company or to oogle the men.
"Grandma, Why's the fire department here?" You asked with shock and a tad bit of annoyance.
"Is that who I called?" She acted innocent and again like it isnt a crime to call the fire department for nothing.
"That is who you called, Ms. Dotty." Eddie spoke to her and did a check to make sure she's fine cause he has to.
"She's fi-" You started but your grandma interrupted.
"My hearts a little fast but maybe thats just cause of you." The seventy year old flirted with the brunette man.
"Well, arent you a charming showstopper as always, Ms. Dotty." Eddie replied back.
"She doesnt even need anythin-" You start to tell the other man before looking up at him, he had the mark near his eyebrow like she said and god was he beautiful, a killer smile, his hair a bit curly and his eyes were like seas of endles-
"Yeah, we kinda figured but we don't mind checkin up on her." Buck interrupts your thoughts with and you felt weak in your knees as soon as his smile widened.
"Evan Buckley but you can call me Buck if you like, everyone else does." He reached out his hand.
Naturally, due to Buck being insanely charming you were already blushing which caused your grandma to wink at you when Eddie wasn't looking.
"You okay? You seem a little flushed." He retracted his hand and asked you with concern.
"No, I'm good I promise." Trying to hide the blush on your cheeks or the smile of embarrassment that was quickly fighting it's way to your face.
"I heard you boys needed volunteers for the Christmas thing you guys are putting on for the kiddos. I'm sure my granddaughter would love to help out." Your grandma kept trying to play wing-woman for you.
"Well we really do need another woman to help us out and I think she'd be perfect. Can I get your number and I'll just text you the details." Buck said in a slightly flirty tone.
"I wouldnt wanna be a both-"
"Her number is 424-555-7652. Her names Y/N but most people call her Ducky." Your grandma wrote it down and handed it to Evan.
"Awe, Buck and Duck." Eddie starts before their pagers went off with an actual call that wasnt a grandma wanting to flirt with firefighters.
"Well it was lovely to see you, Ms. Dotty!" Eddie packs up the med kit and gets ready to get out of there.
"I'll give you a call, Ducky." Buck says with a blush as he bolts out of there after Eddie.
"I don't know if I should be mad at you or not, Grandma." Still trying to hife the blush or how your eyes had memorized every part of Buck's face.
"I told you he was cute, they both are. If I was younger, I bet the brunette would go for me." Your grandma said with a smirk and a rather large amount of confidence.
"Yeah, I'm sure he would." You laugh a bit, she's always been a little bit of a minx and it was clear that she wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
-> Masterlist <-
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Hi, hello Tiny. I've got a little "Human Effect" scenario in my almost always empty head.
Do you think the Galactic Council would try to persuade the human crew from the Lost Light to abandone their cybertronian friends?. Like, the Council listing all war crimes from the cybertronian war yadayada.
But the humans, especially the Ambassador, always defend their cybertronian crew. I think it will boils down in "but we all love them" type of argument. Until one day the Ambassador just tells them "¡STOP BULLING MY BELOVED CREW YOU GALACTIC RACISTS!".
All the crew would be like D: "they just said that to the Galactic Council?". And the entire human crew would probably start throwing swears and overal talking about all the good things their cybertronians have done.
Side-note, the DJD is also listening (because I need to include them) and they can't believe they are taking the humans side in the discussion.
Ok that would be all from me at the moment. THANKS.
Oh I can definitely see something like this happening.
Enjoy the meme
The council: we can not have you working with the cybertronians any longer due to the amount of war crimes they have committed.
Ambassador: Ha that's rich coming from you, one word. America.
Council: That does not change the matter. We are pulling you out, and if you refuse to return to earth within the time pool given, you will be court martialled and jailed.
Ambassador: than all your so called outpost and new alliances will be for nothing as they than automatically fall into the hands of the cybertronian sector of the union as they are the ones who forged them. Which means all further communications are to go through the cybertronian Alliance and Commander Prowl.
Council now trying to back track: no, that's not what we-
Prowl: Thank you, Ambassador, as I have stated multiple times this is the reason I had stated to Optimus Prime multiple over why a union between our planets wouldn't work out, I had already calculated and assessed that there was a 78. 874% probability of you betraying the alliance.
Council: Ambassador for this you will be reprimanded and interrogated over conspiring with Cybertron.
Ambassador under their breath: oh I've been doing more than that.
Ultra Magnus: due to the hostility of the earth council I ask that the human crew of the Lost Light be allowed asylum on Cybertron
Prowl turning to Optimus: are we allowed to offer that?
Optimus: it is up to Chancellor Starscream
Starscream sitting back watching the shit show and having heard the Ambassador little remark: Ambassador please share the details of what else you have been sharing with the crew.
All the cybertronians knowing full well how much of a shithead Starscream can be.
The Ambassador stand proudly: chancellor Starscream. Permission to use foul language.
Starscream rather amused: granted
Ambassador: I've been fucking most of the crew of the Lost Light and it's been the best sex I've had before. And I don't intend on returning to earth becuase Cybertronian pussy and dick hit different. And yes I Did in fact Fuck Megatron until he whimpered!
Everyone going silent before Starscream cackles: permission for the humans to have asylum.
#transformers#transformers idw#mtmte#transformers x reader#transformers x human#transformers lost light#valveplug#transformers optimus#prowl#starscream transformers#ultra magnus idw
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A drabble on what if Arthur repealed the magic ban while Merlin wasn't there. I like the idea of Arthur thinking Merlin will be mad, he said magic has no place in Camelot afterall. And Merlin being like shit I'm gonna have to start telling the truth.
A fic where Merlin goes to visit his mother for a few weeks. It's Yule and he misses her.
While he is gone a child comes to trial. Hardly 12 and clearly terrified. She had been caught using magic.
She swears she didn't mean to, that it just started happening one day and she was so scared of what was happening to her.
The law says she is to burn.
But Arthur just can't seem to make the call. He can only think of the girl Morgana used to be when he looks at her.
He speaks to Gaius and Geoffrey about what Camelot was like before the ban. How people square magic. He learns, for the first time, more than his father had ever let him.
He's thinking of......well not reversing the magic ban. But this girl can't be evil surely.
He wishes Merlin were here, his advice is often quite sound. But Arthur is unsure if Merlin, who has been so outspoken against magic in the past, would agree with such loose laws.
But it comes down to this. Arthur cannot in good conscience kill that girl. And he can not have her as an exception. So he changes the law.
Merlin hasn't spent this long in Ealdor since before he left. He finds it quite lonely without Will to cause trouble with.
But he finds he is not ostracized like he was when he was a boy. In fact, more often than not he has to dodge mothers pushing their daughters onto him as prospects.
He is in his mother's house trying bundles of herbs to be dried and taken back to Camelot when his mother rushes in.
She stairs at him for a moment. Eyes wide, something clearly about to spill off her toung.
"Mother?" Merlin says moving closer, " What's wrong what happened? Has goodie meridan gone into labor?"
"Merlin. My boy. We just received news from Camelot. Gaius sent a letter. I....." Her face is flush. She doesn't look scared but Merlins heart drops anyway
"Arthur...." Merlin starts
"He's fine, he's fine" Hunith walks towards her son, cupping his face in her hands.
She laughs. Full belly and full of joy, her hands on his face strong, they almost hurt.
"He repealed the magic ban Merlin. Oh my boy by royal decree"
Merlins knees nearly give out.
"Surely you aren't serious....." Merlin gasps. "Do you have the letter?"
She hands it over and he reads frantically.
My good Hunith.
I write you instead of Merlin for reasons that will become obvious.
I also just request more of that dried lavender you sent last time, it does not smell the same from the north.
How is your neighbor Gregory fairing with his leg? My tonic recipe helped I hope, I would like to hear how it went.
There is news from Camelot. You might have heard, it will make fast news I'm sure.
A girl was brought to court for magic. Hardly 12 summers, she swears she did not train for magic, that it came naturally and she has no control.
Arthur was hesitant to burn her, despite the law, and tasked me with examining her.
I explained my findings, you know my friend how truly common it is to have magic as the girl does. Arthur listened well, and I sent the king off with what recommendations I could.
There are few books left on the subject but he spoke to Geoffrey. I assume he found some enlightened reading.
The next day, his verdict was as follows.
"The law of the land, as set by my Father King Uther, is that magic has no place in Camelot. I quite agree. Magic is dangerous, it has raveged my family.
But I can't help but think these laws might create more enemies. I cannot kill a girl for a crime she did not willingly commit. But I cannot banish her and create an enemy."
The council spoke on formal matters and specifics but Hunith, it is looking well. I feel hope I haven't had in decades.
Arthur has repealed the magic ban, in part. There are specifics to be worked out, and it is unclear if it would apply to Merlin. It certainly wouldn't apply to myself.
I will write again when I have more details.
I wish I could see the boy's face when he hears the news. Give him my love
Gaius
Merlin reads it. Than again. The third time he skims it he is tearing up. Looking desperately for any sign that Gaius tells a lie.
When he finds none, and there is no answer but that Gaius's words are true.
Merlin weeps. He falls to his knees and weeps.
Hunith cradles his head, spilling some tears of her own.
"oh my boy" she says. "What news. I knew Arthur would be a good king." She presses a kiss to her son's head.
Merlin cries, and wonders why he feels more scared than ever.
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The IRS
Billy doesn’t pay taxes. Anything related to taxes, he doesn’t know about.
M’gann: “What’s an IRS?”
Kid Flash “They’re these guys who collect taxes.”
M’gann: “Really? I’ve never paid taxes before. Are they gonna come after me?” *sounds slightly concerned*
Kid Flash: “Maybe-”
Marvel: *comes out of the kitchen with cookies* “No, they’re not. M’gann, the IRS isn’t real.”
M’gann: “It isn’t?”
Marvel: “Yeah, it isn’t. Wally’s just pulling your leg.”
Kid Flash: “Uh… no, no I’m not… Marvel you do know IRS is real, right? It’s important to me that you know that.”
Marvel: “Well, they’ve never come for me and I haven’t paid a single tax in my life.”
Kid Flash: *sounds completely concerned* “That means you’re committing tax fraud.”
Later…
YJ and Marvel: *all huddled around Tim who’s hunched over a computer*
Marvel: “Why’s is everyone here?”
Robin!Tim: “What do you mean, Cap? This is a celebratory moment. We didn’t even know you could commit a crime, yet here we are.” *typing on computer*
Marvel: “Why’d you pull up C.C. Batson?”
Robin!Tim: “Cap, you’re not exactly hiding your face. Anyone could find out who you were if they just dug a little deeper than the surface.”
Artemis: “Your name is C.C.?” *tries to see the computer*
Robin!Tim: “Charles actually.”
Zatanna: “You look like a Charles.”
Marvel: “I do? Huh. Well, anyways, I’ve been legally pronounced dead so I shouldn’t have to pay them right?”
Robin!Tim: “Well, you’re alive now. That means that you technically faked your death and that also technically means that you’re committing tax fraud so…” *types on computer* “You should owe 5 billion to the IRS.”
Marvel: *sounds completely devastated* “WHAT?”
Aqualad: “How could he possibly have racked up that much?”
Robin!Tim: “Well, Cap’s been “dead” *does quotes with his hands* since 1958 so he put off 66 years of taxes. Plus, the price of a dollar went up as the years passed so yeah.”
Marvel: “Oh my gods…” *sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown*
Kid Flash: “Wow. You’re actually an egregious tax evader. 5 billion is insane.”
Even More Later…
Batman: *came to check on the kids*
Marvel: *in a corner, rocking back and forth, practically crying*
Batman: “What’s wrong with him?”
Robin!Tim: “He owes 5 billion to the IRS.”
Batman: “…What?”
Robin!Tim: “Yeah, I know, right?”
Batman and Robin!Tim: *watch as Conner comes by and puts a bunch of blankets on Marvel. They then see M’gann come in with some hot coco and hand it to Cap*
Batman: *sighs* “I’ll get the money.” *walks away*
Robin!Tim: “Hey, Cap! You can stop worrying now! Batman is gonna hook you up.
And that’s how, after much refusal from Billy and a lot of peer pressure from both the YJ and Mr. Batman, itty bitty Billy Batson ended up with 5 billion dollars. And since he didn’t want to be arrested for tax evasion, he was too scared to hand it over to the IRS. (It’s not like he knew how to pay them anyways) But hey, Billy now gets to treat himself, Mary, and Freddy. They now have a decent apartment, better clothes, and lots and lots of food money, and potentially toy money? Billy’s been eyeing these Bulletman and Bulletgirl action figures for his and Mary’s birthday coming up. He hopes Mary will like them, or at least the Bulletgirl figure, he knows she’s a big fan.
Also, I have no idea if the 5 billion dollar thing is right, I pulled that from somewhere and I honestly forgot where.
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#batman#tim drake#aqualad#kaldur'ahm#miss martian#m’gann m’orzz#conner kent#kon el superboy#zatanna zatara#artemis crock#kid flash#wally west
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