#(I did NOT expect them to get along but he is their highest approval followed by Lae'zel)

[vampiresuns]

having a tav that's a Lloth-sworn life domain cleric of a noble background who before getting yeeted into the nautiloid was a sacrificial priestess (gn) during one of the cycles of Drow society and had their own altar and temple under their care, means Solune would have the most insane however many minutes they spent interacting with Minthara and I am obsessed about it. As far as I'm conceptualising it, I'm thinking of Lloth as extremely Ungoliant-like. Goddess of hunger, goddess of wanting and consumption, goddess of excess and exuberance, goddess who unmasked the hypocritical gods of starvation, guilt and purity into a society that cherishes a certain kind of clarity about the double standard they impose. For Drow are evil for their wars and their wanting and their taking, but those other people with their other gods kill, warmonger and enslave with no regard and no self-awareness, calling the indignation about receiving scraps from a bunch of silent, unrepentant gods, "guilt and shame". There is violence in denial and her Children will not suffer it.

In the season of Life, they do not sacrifice the unwilling. It is taboo. The only sacrifice that matters is the desire to be devoured and destroyed by the things you love the most.

And Solune sees Minthara and is like fucking finally, someone rational enough to get what I'm going through, that they're losing their mind that their life was taken from them and if they become this other thing, if they transform, if they do not remain Luxe Solune Mizzmyrra, Life Knife of Lloth, they're never going to be able to be reintegrated into that life. They will die away from home, from their temple, from their (first) spouse, from their mother and their siblings and there won't be the day when they too succumb to the knife, when it is time, when the day they no longer feel hunger comes.

And then the parasite gives them an in into Minthara thinking she was raised from the darkness into a FALSE GOD? One thing you do not do is steal from Lady Lloth, and oh my god, there could've been a time, a chance that existed only in ignorance, of Solune lending a hand to Minthara but this to them is unforgivable because Solune is genuinely a good friend to their friends, but if you keep peeking into whatever mindset nobility and religious authority has given them it's like realising your friend is a cesspool of "what the actual and everliving fuck", and when the knife of the morningstar priestess comes down on Minthara it won't be with love but with absolute rage, grief and disgust and I will be thinking about this for evermore. Thanks, I'm not well

[robininthelabyrinth]

I am *endlessly* curious about how Wei Wuxian ended up at the Cloud Recess, and very satisfied my internal suspicion that the Lan and the Jiang were busy rebuilding their power/plotting a coup was right. Though I'm now curious about their reaction to 'Meng Yao is being kept around, and as Empress at that'.

spontaneous fic extra for Good Help - ao3 link

-

Good news! one of Nie Huaisang’s letters started, which was never good news. My brother has finally become gainfully employed! He will no longer be a burden on society, a good-for-nothing that does nothing but idle his days away, bringing shame upon our family name.

Wei Wuxian blinked down at the letter. “Jiang Cheng,” he said. “Did I manage to hit my head and wake up in a world where Nie Mingjue is not the Empress?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, looking bored. He was officially there on Jin sect business, though everyone politely pretended that he wasn’t very clearly there to see Wei Wuxian or, for those not in the know, sent by his husband, who had virtually no cutsleeve tendencies at all, to get him somewhere that wasn’t Lanling. It was an excuse they used rather a lot to get Jiang Cheng to where he needed to be. “He’s definitely still the Empress. Keep reading.”

Wei Wuxian kept reading.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said a second later. “Someone mistook him for a guard? How?!”

“I mean, it’s not as ridiculous as you might think. No one’s seen him in years,” Jiang Cheng said, finally breaking his mask of boredom in favor of a grin. “He’s always behind all those veils – I’m pretty sure his fashion sense as Empress is ‘how much can I look like the curtain I’m trying to hide behind’.”

“But he’s so –” Wei Wuxian moved his hands around in an attempt to encompass very broad shoulders, a narrow waist, muscles, and also height. “Notable!”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been to court, hasn’t it? He’s always up on that platform far away from everyone else – you know how Wen Ruohan likes to look down on everyone – and everything around him has been resized for him; he looks more proportional that way. And if you didn’t know, and there’s no reason that this Meng Yao fellow would know…”

“Still!”

“No, really, it’s not that strange! You know how Wen Ruohan’s guards of the inner hall are dressed, all fancy Wen sect robes, and that’s all Nie Mingjue has other than his Empress get-up, which obviously isn’t appropriate for when he wants to go outside to train Baxia. He would’ve been wearing the right clothes and walking in the right place, and he is what you’d expect a guard to look like…if you bumped into him at random, as happened here, it’s a reasonable mistake to make.”

“He hired him as his secretary,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “Just – wow. Wow. Mingjue-xiong is going to break him in half, the first time he tries anything.”

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe not.”

-

Someone needs to go assassinate this Meng Yao person right away, Nie Huaisang’s next letter – nominally addressed to Lan Wangji this time – said. I think my brother might actually like him. A upstart Jin bastard that worked his way up through the Fire Palace – do you think all these years with Wen Ruohan has rotted da-ge’s sense of taste?

“He doesn’t actually mean that we should assassinate him,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who nodded in agreement. “We still need the viceroy to remain in his place as the target. He’s just being dramatic.”

If Nie Huaisang actually wanted Wei Wuxian to assassinate someone, he had other ways of asking.

That was a fair portion of what Wei Wuxian did these days, actually, other than work on his ideas for demonic cultivation and warm Lan Wangji’s bed. Ironically enough, of the three, the last was his actual job: after Wen Chao had his golden core destroyed as punishment for having dared fight back when the Wen sect invaded the Lotus Pier – a temper tantrum at not being allowed to do the same to Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian suspected, since Wen Ruohan had even then already planned to sell the heirs of the Jiang sect to the highest bidder – Lan Wangji had, after quietly rescuing him at Jiang Cheng’s frantic instigation and with Nie Huaisang’s connivance, announced that he was keeping him as a personal pet.  

Wen Ruohan had been pressuring the Lan sect to adopt some vices, simply because he knew it would make them uncomfortable – Lan Qiren had been a particular target – and he’d been satisfied by the notion of one of Lan Qiren’s precious nephews, the Jades of Lan, deciding to keep a whore, even if he’d insisted on having Wei Wuxian inspected to make sure he’d been thoroughly used.

(Proving it had not been a hardship, not when Wei Wuxian had a lover as thorough and tireless as Lan Wangji. Joke’s on you, Wen Ruohan!)

Still, even as Wei Wuxian did (in his opinion) some of his best work on his back and puzzled his way through demonic cultivation as the only possible route for him now – Lan Qiren helped him with some of the musical cultivation bits, and also in arguing to the Lan sect elders that some type of cultivation was better than nothing, and anyway there was a limit to how much trouble he could cause while under close supervision – he had also started up a sideline in taking out their political enemies on account of being the one of them that people would least suspect. No one even remembered his name anymore!

“Maybe we should go to court and check him out,” Wei Wuxian added thoughtfully. “See what he’s like, make sure he’s not leading Nie Mingjue down the wrong path, that sort of thing.”

They could pass along some of Nie Huaisang’s messages, too.

There was that whole coup they were planning, even if it was far less interesting than Nie Mingjue actually making a friend for the first time in over a decade…

“Mm,” Lan Wangji agreed. “Wei Ying has good judgment.”

“I do! If he’s nice – though there’s no chance he’ll be nice, he’s from the Fire Palace – I’ll tell Nie Huaisang that I approve,” Wei Wuxian decided. “If he’s awful, I’ll send a ghost to haunt him until he can’t sleep. If he’s a little awful but seems salvageable, I’ll…I don’t know…I’ll set some dogs on him!”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows went up.

“You’ll set some dogs on him!”

The eyebrows went down.

“Rude, Lan Zhan. Very rude.”

-

“So having now seen Meng Yao and my da-ge interact with my own two eyes, I’ve decided that they’re going to get married,” Nie Huaisang announced.

“Is that wise?” Wei Wuxian asked, even though he actually thought Meng Yao was pretty cool. He was so good at being nice to people that he disliked, so incredibly efficient, so thoughtful, and best of all only very rarely followed up on the occasional murder-eyes he liked to shoot people when he thought no one was looking; it had actually been the fact that he and Lan Wangji had both vouched for him that had convinced Nie Huaisang to change his plans to account for his brother’s preferences. “Making him the Empress? He’ll be bossing your brother around in no time.”

“He’s already bossing my brother around, and that’s the way my brother likes it,” Nie Huaisang said. “Making Meng Yao the mother of the Empire – above ten thousand, below one – is the ideal way to sate his hunger for power in a way that makes him feel confident that he won’t be so easily replaced the way a viceroy or prime minister would be, and therefore unlikely to betray us. Also, it will make Jin Guangshan have an aneurysm, and that will be hilarious.”

“I like that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, didn’t we agree that you were going to be the prime minister?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “You are going to be prime minster, and I’m going to be your empty-headed but pretty former Imperial Consort wife.”

“I’m pretty sure ‘former Imperial Consort’ isn’t usually a thing.”

“Yes, well, it’s a coup, we make the rules. It’d be such a shame not to use this nice bureaucracy that Wen Ruohan set up for us…Wei-xiong, what about you?”

“What about me? I’m very happy as Lan Zhan’s whore.”

Jiang Cheng tried to hit him, but Wei Wuxian dodged, cackling. “Maybe I’ll start spending his money on fancy clothing and living it up now that I’m his official mistress,” he said. “I have Wang Lingjiao’s example to look up to, don’t I..?”

“I would like to marry Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji opined, and Wei Wuxian suddenly felt all gooey inside.

“I meant what will we do with him in the government,” Nie Huaisang said, long-suffering. “You’re all useless – though not as useless as me, of course.”

Jiang Cheng pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No one’s as useless as you, my little good-for-nothing.”

“And don’t any of you forget it!” Nie Huasiang exclaimed, then elbowed Jiang Cheng in the ribs. “Don’t touch me, you married man. Get a proper divorce before you try making your way into my bed; what sort of girl do you think I am?”

“You can’t be serious!” Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Jin Zixuan is drawing up the papers right now –”

“I feel like I deserve a proper wedding, don’t you?” Nie Huaisang asked Wei Wuxian, who started laughing. “I didn’t get a proper one the last time around –”

“We’ve been sleeping together for years!”

“We were having a thrilling affair under the nose of an evil tyrannical dictator. Who’s to say that the spark’s still there?”

“Oh you want spark,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll give you spark –”

[the-angriestpineapple]

Bountiful Harvest (Endeavor x Fem Reader)

____

Rating: Explicit

Characters: Todoroki Enji (Endeavor)

Inspiration: My piece for the Citrus Dome Discord server’s Gods AU collaboration. Enji isn’t based on a particular god, but who better to be one than him?  Masterlist is here.

Prompt: Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer…

Word Count: ~3k

Worship has always been a part of your daily routine. Each season you place the fruits of your labor at the altar. Every day you pray. It’s human nature, seeking answers from the Gods.

But you never expected one to answer…

The god your family prayed to was one that your father insisted was powerful. He was almighty, he was deadly for the enemies of his followers. You weren’t entirely sure if that was true. Your lives were… peaceful enough. Your crops were good. Your family was healthy. As a family you prayed together very consistently. However only your father made an offering every new moon, when the sun dominated the sky. He was the only one allowed in your family shrine when the offering was made so you never really know what it was, but you assumed that it was part of your crops. Outside of that you would quietly tag along, looking at the stone walls in boredom and waiting for your father’s droning prayers to cease.

Then the leader of the kingdom to the north declared war on your kingdom, and able bodied men were conscripted to the army. Your father had to go, but he made sure to tell you that as the eldest child of the family it fell on you to make the monthly sacrifice. You honestly weren’t sure if the god existed or not but you make sure to tell your father that you will do as he asks if he isn’t back in time.

The new moon rolls around before your father returns. You select some of your best crops – corn, potatoes, greens. A bit of everything you grow. You even throw in two loaves of fresh bread that you’d baked earlier that day. That had to be enough. 

Your father had explained the reason why the sacrifice was made the day of the new moon. It was when the sun was at its most powerful, and your family’s patron god was a solar deity. Your father had waxed poetic about everything that this particular god did but you weren’t exactly listening. It was important to your father though, so you’d do what he asked. You enter the small, windowless building that your father built to the god. Despite the fact that there were no windows the roof was glass, with a circular hole in the center. Torches lined the walls, and you were surprised to see that they were burning. They had always been burning when you came in with your family but you assumed that your father lit them. You take the few steps to the flat, wide table that serves as the altar, taking a few moments to study it. The table was a large stone slab moreso than a table, really. A second large stone sat in the front, carved with what looks like fire, and a single word.

Endeavor.

You say it quietly to yourself, your voice echoing strangely in the small room. It gives you a strange feeling as if you’re being watched. You place the basket on the altar and dip your head respectfully before you head out, closing the door quietly behind you.

Your father doesn’t return before the next new moon. This means that you need to give the next offering. You pack up another basket of your best crops and bake some small cakes this time, bringing the offering out when the sun is highest in the sky. You let yourself into the room again and make your way to the altar. Before you can set your basket down, though, all the torches go out.

You turn and step down off the small dias that the table sits on, looking at them. You’re confused. You shut the door, there should be no air coming through here. And even if there was it hadn’t been that windy today. So what had made the torches go out…?

“Foolish mortal.” A booming voice echoes from behind you and you jump, whirling around. Standing before you is the largest man you’ve ever beheld. He has to be almost seven feet tall, shoulders almost as wide as the altar. Thick, strong arms crossed over a barrel chest. Legs roped with muscle. He’s wearing a deep red tunic that reminds you of fire. Or of blood. His eyes are the brightest blue you’ve ever seen, and his gaze makes you want to run for your life.

“Your sacrifice was paltry, laughable. Offensive. I do not take sacrifices in the form of plants and breads.” He spits the words as if you’d offered him manure instead of your best crops. “I require something with vitality. Blood. Meat.” The large god sneers down at you and you can’t help but recoil a little. That was what your father did every month? How had you not noticed him killing something to bring in here?

Then the god – Endeavor, if the word on the altar was correct – was walking toward you. He was even larger and more intimidating as he stared down at you with a scowl. His arms were now hanging at his sides, and you couldn’t help but notice that each of his hands could easily engulf your entire head. Your eyes are snapped back up to his face as he speaks again. “As I see that you’ve brought another unacceptable offering, I will provide you with two choices. Either you find me something better, or I’m removing my blessing from your family.”

Better. You curse inwardly and bite your lip. What could you offer a god?

“I’m waiting, mortal.” You look up at him while still biting your lip. “I’m… I’m not killing anything. I can’t. Is there something else you’ll accept?” Endeavor raises his brow and crosses his arms over his chest once more.

“I told you what my requirements are. Either give me what I desire or your blessings are revoked.” You go over in your head everything that your father claimed prayer to this god was responsible for. Your safety. Healthy livestock. Your family’s health. You think of your sibling, who hadn’t been feeling well recently. You think of your mother, and how weak she had been after your last sibling had been born. You think about the harsh winters that only a bountiful harvest that summer had enabled you to survive. You’re struck with a cold realization that your family could possibly perish without these boons. And it would be entirely your fault.

The words are out of your mouth without any further thought. “I wish to sacrifice myself.” You stand straighter, jaw clenched in determination and hands balled at your sides. He doesn’t respond right away, just appraises you quietly.

“Hm. It has been some time since a maiden has offered herself as the sacrifice. Very well. I accept.” With a speed you almost can’t follow he snatches your arm and drags you up to the altar. You’ve resigned yourself to this fate, sorrowful that you won’t be able to say goodbye to your family. But they’ll be safe, and that soothes the pain of the fact that a god is about to kill you. You’re all but flung over the altar, hips hitting the edge hard. You close your eyes and prepare for the crushing blow.

What you don’t expect are large hands smoothing over your side and your hips. Your heart pounds and your thoughts run wild as the soft caresses continue, unhurried and purposeful. What was he doing? Why didn’t he just get on with it and kill you? Was he trying to decide the best way to do it? Did he eat his sacrifices? A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest but doesn’t quite make it out as you think of your mother telling a much younger you to not play with your food.

The hands slide back up from your calves, over your hips, up your sides. You’re trembling, the anticipation to your own death is horrible. He gently gathers your hair to one side and grips at the back of your neck. Ah, so he would snap your neck. At least it would be over quickly. But he just squeezes and then drags his fingertips down your clothed spine. You’re a bundle of nerves and near tears, wishing he would just kill you and end this. Then the hands come to rest on your ass, heavy palms kneading the flesh, and he pushes his hips into you. Endeavor’s voice rings in your mind - it has been some time since a maiden has offered herself as the sacrifice – and you realize that he does not intend to kill you. Oh. Oh. He wants… This is much, much more preferable.

You’re no stranger to sex. You were of marrying age, and the boy that you had been interested in had talked you into lying with him before he ran off to wed the girl his parents had set up for him. You’d had no knowledge of their arrangement, and you were crushed. Luckily your parents were understanding of the fact that your heart had been shattered even if they weren’t aware of just how far things had gone with the boy. They didn’t press for you to find a husband. You were a help to your parents, they were not very keen on losing that. You had been with this boy a few times, enough times that you weren’t afraid as the god started to lift your dress.

Your experience was limited, so you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt a long stripe of a tongue licking up your slit. Your knees buckle. His tongue is so hot, and now that his hands are on your bare skin you’re acutely aware of just how much heat is radiating from him. You’ve never been in the presence of a god, let alone this close to one. Did they all feel like this? Or was it just this one in particular? This line of thought is interrupted as he licks another hard stripe up your sex, pulling a shaky moan from you. You’d never had a mouth there before. It was amazing how good it felt.

He didn’t speak as he lavished his tongue over your core. He only gives a rumbling noise of approval as your body responds to his attention and he laps up the slick he’s getting out of you. You’re confused about what is happening since the boy you’d been with previously had only kissed you, and thrust up between your legs a few times. But who are you to question a god? Especially one that is gripping your upper thigh this hard and whose tongue is starting to curl inside you like that.

Your legs are spreading wider to accommodate his bulk without really thinking about it, needing more of whatever he’s doing to you. Your eyes are fluttering closed, breath coming out in pants, risen up on the tips of your toes. You can’t believe how amazing it feels. But then thick fingers are sliding along your slit as well. One of them slips easily inside. You’re surprised at how one finger rivals the boy you’d been with, and how easily it slid in. How wet you were. Except Endeavor’s finger is crooking inside of you and hitting spots that you didn’t know existed. You gasp when he hits a certain spot, your legs shaking. He chuckles at your response and resumes running his tongue along the outside of your sex.

Neither of you speak as he works you over. The only sound in the small temple are the noises he’s drawing from you with his meticulous movements. You’re still pretty quiet, even as he’s making your eyes roll back in your head. You feel like you need to be. The temple is far enough from the house, but your siblings like to play in the field that cuts through between the temple and the house. You didn’t want them to come check on you and find you like this.

You can’t help the yelp when his finger slides out and two slide back in though. It doesn’t hurt, but you weren’t expecting it. You feel so full. It’s a new feeling, and it’s so perfect. His fingers alternate between curling up and pressing into the spot that makes you gasp and scissoring. Your hips are rocking back into his hand. Your own hands grasping at the edge of the altar. His fingers are working you expertly and his tongue is still dragging along your skin and dipping down to suck gently at your clit. It feels like there’s a wire in your belly and it’s being pulled tighter and tighter. It’s divine. You need more.

Just as you think this, he obliges. A third finger slips easily inside of you. This time when he presses up against that spot again you cry out, feeling something in you snap, and clench around the intrusion. He gently flexes his finger over the spot as you ride out whatever this was. You’d never had an orgasm before. Just as the heat in your belly starts to die down he easily slides in a fourth finger. He is not done with you yet. You can’t believe how far you’re stretched with no pain. But Endeavor is sliding out of you, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness. His large hands slide around to your front, one resting on your stomach and one sliding up to grasp your jaw. His hand is so big that some fingers are also pressing into your throat. You feel him lift you from the altar – from the floor entirely – and brings you to rest on him. Your back is pressed to his hard chest, and your slit is resting on his large shaft. Before you can feel any panic over how big he is everywhere, he tilts your head back and catches your lips with his own.

Your mind flatlines. You’re kissing a god. He has you fully off the floor, barely able to brush your toes if you point them. You can’t help the soft moan that is lost in his mouth. His hips start to move, rocking back and forth. Sliding along your slit, collecting your slick on his shaft. You’re starting to lose the need to stay quiet. The way he’s holding you up, the way his tongue tastes like you, it all feels so forbidden. It sends a spike of heat to your core. Before you even realize you’re doing it, your hips are rocking with his own. At least as well as they can when he has you pinned to his chest like this.

You’re losing yourself in his kiss. One of your arms comes up to cup the back of his neck, wanting to pull him closer. Needing more of this heat that he radiates. He growls as your hips slide over his length more desperately, finally tearing his mouth from yours and dropping you to bend you back over the altar. You hear the sound of him spitting on his own cock, then the press of his blunt head lining up with your entrance. He pushes in the first inch, puts his hands on your hips as an anchor, then rocks in and out a few times until he’s seated perfectly inside of you.

“E-Endeavor-” you gasp out once he fills you completely. You’ve never felt so full. He doesn’t move at first. There’s a fleeting thought about how considerate he is to allow you to adjust to his size, but your need for him to move makes you start to push your hips back into him. He lets out another growl and his grip on your hips gets harder. He drags out, then slams back in.

He starts to fuck you in earnest against the altar, and you’re once again scrambling to hold onto the edge. All thoughts of staying quiet are completely gone from your head. You’re moaning loudly with each thrust, especially as he starts grunting with the effort of fucking you senseless. It’s nice to know that you can affect a god like that. Endeavor curses and pulls you back flush against him before pinning you to his chest with one hand again. His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls your leg up. He lets go of your midsection and has your other thigh held up as well. Your back is pressed hard against his chest, legs splayed out. You’re not entirely sure how he pulls the move off, but he’s a god so you don’t question it. You can’t even if you want to because he’s drilling to you again in earnest.

You manage to get your hands around the back of Endeavor’s neck to keep yourself from bouncing on his cock too hard and enable you to press your hips back down against him. He turns to tuck his face into your neck, nipping at the skin there. You can feel that wire tightening in your belly again, but it’s all over when he mouths at your earlobe. “Cum again. Cum all over my cock,” he rumbles into your ear. The command sends you over the edge, and you’re clamping down on him hard. He growls as he slams into you once last time, leaving blooming bruises where his fingers dig into your thighs, as he fills you up.

He doesn’t pull out of you at first. He’s breathing hard, and you’re collapsed against his chest and breathing hard as well. After a few moments he carefully lifts you off of him and sits you on his altar before standing back. His tunic is covering him once more, and you’re struggling to focus on him. His sharp blue eyes are staring at you, mouth still turned into a frown. He looks so nonplussed, like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. He looks so mean.

“This sacrifice was acceptable. I expect the same at the next new moon.” Then he was gone.

You stay there for a few moments, unsure if your legs will support your weight. Finally you slide from the altar. There’s a stream behind the temple that you can clean up at. Then you can head back to the house. You’re already looking forward to the next new moon. The only thing you’re concerned about now is how to explain to your father that Endeavor no longer wants his sacrifices.

[unfunny-quips]

Shouta had been sized up before. 

Many times during his life, in fact. As a student, as a hero, as a teacher. He’d always met the assessments with the same steady, unflinching gaze of his own. He knew his capabilities, and no amount of side eye or stare down would make him think twice.

That did not mean he was in any way prepared for Midoriya Inko. 

Nezdu’s assistant - soft spoken, unassuming, and sweet - had a way of making her scrutinizing gaze seem gentle as it swept over him. Her sharp eyes taking in every detail, weighing and measuring every fact she gathered. She always had a bright smile and a kind word, a gentle hand to guide when needed. And yet, somehow, she was one of the very, very few people Shouta had ever met that made him nervous.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, he supposed. For all the things he had faced down in his career, he had never faced true, unwavering evil the way she had. The green haired woman had been married to the single most dangerous man in Japan - very possibly the world - and had come out of the experience with her heart of gold intact. 

An impressive enough feat on its own merit. That she had managed to pull one over on that villain - gathering up her sons and a damning amount of information and sweeping them away to safety before All For One had even a chance to understand what was happening - that was terrifying. She’d stormed the police, stared down the Symbol of Peace himself, and forced the Hero Commision themselves to give her a deal placing her family in the highest amount of security available. 

Most terrifying of all, she had impressed Nezdu.

The woman was a force of nature and Shouta was smart enough to know he wouldn’t survive the storm if it’s ire was turned on him.

Midoriya herself, dressed disarmingly in a smart grey suit with a teal blouse, finally brought her gaze to meet his and offered him one of her cheerful grins. It was warm and soft, the kind of thing mothers gave he supposed, not that he had a terrible lot of familiarity with that. The gentleness of the smile did not make him forget the steel of her spine or how she could make that smile turn predatory when the need arose.

“Aizawa-San, it’s lovely to see you today!”  She greeted him, standing from her desk - immaculate and clearly organized to the height of perfection - and rounding it to greet him. 

He should have anticipated the crushing hug she’d pulled him into, but as always her unwavering cheerfulness had sent him off balance and she’d pressed her advantage before he could regain his senses. She did it with all the staff, with the exception of All Might and Nezdu. Aizawa suspected All Might’s great height - even in his skeletal form - prevented her from pulling him in for one of her crushing hugs. Nezdu, for his part, was a fellow apex predator and therefore exempt from such treatment.

He wished, not for the first time, that Zashi had come with him. He sometimes was able to hide behind the other man when Midoriya Inko started hugging. Sometimes. 

Then again, she’d sometimes just sweep the both of them up at once, and Zashi took it as an invitation for a group hug, trapping Shouta entirely.

“Midoriya-San.” He awkwardly greeted when she’d released him. She ignored his discomfort, and moved back towards her desk where a stack of papers waited.

“You’re just in time, I just finished compiling the pre-approved applications for the transfers. Oh!” She paused, turning away from her desk and darting through the door just off her office to the small kitchenette hidden there. He blinked after her, feeling bewildered, and watched as she moved to pull two bentos from the fridge. “I noticed your schedule today didn’t allow for lunch.” She told him, shoving one of the bentos into his hands. “So I thought we could enjoy a meal while we reviewed everything.”

He barely managed not to fumble the container as she dropped it in his hands, whisking off to sit at her desk before he could even think of refusing. He blinked after her, then turned to the bento. The fabric it had been tied into was a soft blue and printed with adorable chibi versions of Hizashi in fully hero gear. It was adorable and mildly terrifying to think she had noticed something in Shouta he thought he’d locked down and hidden away years ago.

“You didn’t have to, I have -” Any protest he might have made died the moment he glanced up and saw the sharp look in her eyes. She was still smiling, but there was a certain gleam of warning in her gaze as she looked at him.

“Protein pouches are not an appropriate substitute for a proper meal.” Midoriya said with the kind of finality that left no room for argument. Not that there would be any. Shouta certainly wasn’t going to be fool enough to pick a fight he knew he couldn’t win - more than once, at least. Especially not when she had that soft, warning expression pointed at him.

Instead he clamped his mouth shut and took the seat across from her, dutifully untying the knot in the colorful bento wrapping at her warning glance. Inside he found onigiri made to look like cats tucked in with a variety of protein rich, healthy foods and some apple slices cut to look like bunnies. 

It was adorable. 

How she managed to find time to make him something so elaborate and cute while balancing care for Izuku and Tenko, the running of the school and keeping up with Nezu while also being constantly vigilant for her villainous estranged husband was beyond him.

“Now there were a number of transfer requests made to get into 1-A” Midoriya began, glancing over the documents on her computer after she had ensured that Shouta was indeed eating the food she’d given him. “About two hundred total. Most of them were sifted out due to grades and overall performance which brought it down to sixty-two. From there we accounted for teacher evaluation to whittle it down to a more reasonable seventeen.”

She pulled up a list, tilting her screen to better show him the names and pictures of seventeen promising first years. Hitoshi, as expected, had made it through the initial two stages of the transfer process. Just two more stages to go.

“Interviews have been scheduled to speak to their classmates, friends and family. Nezdu suspects will have only seven or eight remaining afterward those have been conducted.” Midoriya explained, casting another warning glance at Shouta to ensure he was still eating the lunch she’d prepared for him. He dutifully began digging into a Tsukune. Satisfied, Inko unwrapped her own bento and allowed Shouta to review the short bios of the students as she ate her own lunch.

Each student he reviewed gave the impression of a serious hero course candidate. A class full of good students who hadn’t made the cut initially due to a system biased against their quirks. Nezdu expected nearly ten of them wouldn’t make the interview process, and Shouta didn’t doubt the principal’s estimate, he was rarely wrong about such things. Usually there were only three or four remaining after the interviews, it was an unusually adept group that year it seemed.

After the interviews would be the practicals, followed by the faculty review of those remaining. Despite his personal interest, Nezdu had permitted him to remain on the faculty board to judge the students, confident in Shouta’s ability to remain objective. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Midorya said, breaking him from his thoughts. He watched as she set her lunch to the side and turned her attention to one of her desk drawers. “Izuku gave this to me to pass along to you. He was worried he wouldn’t have the chance otherwise with midterms coming up.” A plain file folder was held out to him, innocent looking.

Shouta squinted at it suspiciously. “He could have brought it in during my office hours.” He said, reaching for it anyway. He’d started calling Midoriya Izuku Problem Child in the first couple days of class, but in no way was the boy actually a troublemaker. Only over eager and overpowered with no sense of self protection. He was a good student, though, and a good kid from everything he’d seen and everything Hitoshi had told him. Not one he’d expect to use a go between for passing notes on to his teachers.

Midoirya Inko gave one of those knowing smiles that put Shouta’s hair on end. “I think he wanted to avoid taking any of your time that could go to other students for something that isn’t related to his own school work.”

Shouta blinked at that, then flipped the folder open and blinked again.

“Are these -?”

“Recommendation letters, yes.” Midoriya said, smile growing bright at Shouta’s bewildered expression. “Hitoshi-kun mentioned they’d help him during his application for the hero course so Izuku got some put together for him. I wrote one of my own, and All Might was similarly happy to make a recommendation based on what he’s seen of Hitoshi’s excellent character.”

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Your Wildest Dreams

Merry Christmas, @shiranyaaww!!! 🌹🎄🌹 Tis I! You’re local harlot and Secret Santa from @dmcsecretsanta! Hope your enjoy the sweet and spicy goodness! 😘

Rating: Explicit 

Abandon all pants ye who reads below the cut!

“It seems my little butterfly has revealed her beautiful wings to me.”

You shiver at the tone of his sensuous voice while your body flushes under his intense gaze. Your arms begin to fidget as you fight the urge to cover yourself, wanting to show the spark of brazen hidden within your bashful soul. 

After all, you and Vergil have been seeing each other romantically for a while now. But you haven’t been very intimate with him yet...just some chaste kisses here and there with the occasional hand holding whenever he’s feeling comfortable. And you don’t mind taking the relationship slow; it’s nice dating someone who respects your boundaries and doesn’t judge your demure nature.

And now, you want to take your relationship to the next level, but every time you think to mention it you suddenly feel too anxious to speak up. 

Which is why you decided to let your body do the talking right after he escorted you back to your home. You were hoping the subject just might pop up after a few heated kisses, but when he breaks away to get a couple of glasses and some wine from your kitchen...you seize the chance to really say what’s on your mind by stripping off your evening dress.

You didn’t plan on revealing your sheer and lacy lingerie so soon, nor did you expect to take a more direct approach. And you almost lose your nerve when he comes back, wondering if you should cut and run as his eyes widen in surprise at your scanty wardrobe. 

But the amorous look on his usually stoic face along with his flattering observation tells you that he definitely got your message loud and clear. 

Vergil remains silent as he slowly stalks towards you with desirous intent. You hold your hands behind your back, showing off the blue bralette hugging your breasts while pushing all your worries aside. His silver blue eyes flicker down while a husky growl emits from his throat, making you tremble under his blatant gaze as he admires your petite form. 

He sets the bottle of wine and glasses down along the way, long forgotten now as he stands before you. His body heat gently warms your exposed skin while the scent of mint and cedarwood makes you giddy with lust. It grows quiet as he studies you closely, smirking a little as you crane your neck up to meet his inquiring eyes. 

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, reaching up to cup your cheek with his tender touch.

Your heart beats nervously as you try to speak, but your voice gets stuck in your throat. The only response you can muster is a shy nod of your head. 

Vergil gives you a patient smile as he lowers his head, tilting your face up before resting his forehead atop your brow. His ardent gaze bores into you while the breath of his gentle command brushes across your parted mouth. 

“Let me hear it from your sweet lips.”

You softly gasp at the request while your hands swing around from behind your back. You work up the courage to comply as you grab the lapels of his fine dining jacket, whispering your desire for the handsome devil before you. 

“Make love to me, Vergil.”

A small yip of surprise escapes your throat when his lips come crashing down upon your own. You softly moan and lean into his gentle yet firm kiss as he slowly wraps his arms around your waist. He lingers over your mouth for a moment, letting out a pleased hum when you nibble on his bottom lip. Then, he parts your mouth before sweeping in with his eager tongue. 

You feel yourself getting lost in the passionate kiss, following what your heart and body wants while pulling yourself closer to his body. Your arms slide up and around his neck, barely noticing when he lifts you up into his embrace. He prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist before whisking you away towards your bedroom. 

Vergil sits you down on the foot of the bed, breaking away from your lips to remove his coat. You watch him throw it on a nearby chair while moving further up the bed, never tearing your hungry gaze away as he unbuttons his dress shirt. His lips curl into a knowing smirk as the shirt slides off his shoulders, giving you a good view of his lean and sturdy chest. 

“You truly are a vision in blue lace,” he murmurs, praising your choice of lingerie while his eyes openly roam your body.

Your flushed cheeks grow hot at the compliment while your heart thrums in excitement. “And your beauty,” he continues as he slowly crawls over your dainty form. “So delicate…” he trails off while pressing a soft kiss against your brow. 

“Like the wings of a bewitching butterfly.” 

You whimper as his flattering words caress your skin. Vergil captures your lips once more as he carefully enfolds you within his arms. His husky grunts mingle with your sensual moans as he utterly consumes you, drinking you in like a starved devil. Both of your legs intertwine as you let him take the lead, giving him your heart and complete trust. 

Vergil gently pulls away from your gasping mouth and turns his attention elsewhere. He kisses a trail down your neck, leisurely asking if his touches feel good in between soft lovebites. You try nodding your head, but you quickly learn that he won’t move on unless he hears your approval. This goes on until he comes face to face with your cleavage, nuzzling his nose along the blue lacy fabric of your bralette before looking up at you. 

“May I?” he asks with a sensuous whisper while grazing your skin just below the hem with his fingertips. 

You bite your lip and start to feel bashful again, but he calmly awaits your answer while soothing you with a gentle kiss atop your hand. Your heart flutters at the caring gesture, and only after taking a couple calming breaths do you feel ready for the next step.  

“Yes,” you murmur, lifting yourself up off the bed a little as his hands slide under the bralette. 

Vergil slips the scrap of fine fabric over your head, tossing it aside as he quietly stares at your bare breasts. You shyly look away while folding your arms beneath your bosom, pushing them up slightly as you glance back with a coy smile. The faint blush coloring his cheeks let you know that you’ve successfully tempted the devil as he moves back in with a guttural growl. 

He takes his time exploring again, lavishing your breasts with searing wet kisses in between the same whispered question: 

“May I kiss you here?”

And you mumble the same reply between desperate cries and elated moans:

“Yes, please!”

This sweet ritual of mutual consent descends further down your body. You lift your bottom up off the bed as he drags your lacy blue panties down your legs. He brings the soaking wet gusset up to his face and takes a deep breath through his nose. Your whole body flushes with fervid desire as you watch him take pleasure in your aroused scent, groaning in ecstasy while pinning you down with his fierce gaze. 

You shiver at the intensity of his stare, but you still manage to invite him back by spreading your legs. Vergil tosses the soiled panties over his shoulder with an impatient huff before slinking towards you. He carries on with the ritual between your open legs, fervently kissing his way up past your knees. Your body quivers in pleasure as he softly bites your innermost thigh, gently sucking until your whimpering for more. 

“Oh, my lovely butterfly,” he murmurs adoringly, making your heart soar while his hot breath blows against your slick sex.  

“May I taste your sweet nectar?”

Your eyes widen at his naughty request. You look down in disbelief, but his captivating gaze instantly tells you that he really wants to… 

You feel yourself getting wetter as you wiggle your hips at the thought. He remains absolutely still between your legs, patiently waiting for your response with a wicked smirk on his lips. You take another deep breath before giving him a slight nod of your head. 

“Yes, my love.” 

Vergil softly growls as unbridled desire ignites within his smoldering eyes. You watch him move in even closer, tickling your thighs with his silver white hair. The soft giggle that bubbles up your throat turns into a choked gasp when you feel his questing tongue. He slowly laps along the length of your slit, giving you plenty of time to adjust before sucking your delicate bud.  

You keen and roll your eyes back, swaying your head on the pillows as he indulges both of your needs and desires. The room is soon filled with the sounds of your delirious moans with the occasional greedy grunt from your devilish lover. A thrilling tingle starts to build up in your belly as you steadily approach the highest peak of your pleasure. You bury one of your hands into his slicked back hair, feeling yourself teetering on the edge while your other hand wrings the bedcover beneath you.

Vergil hums as he reaches up and grasps your clenched fist, coaxing you to open your hand so that he can lace your fingers together. This tender gesture along with his deft tongue finally has you coming undone with a rapturous cry. You pull on his hair as intense pleasure flutters through you, sweeping you away on the winds of delight while holding his hand in a tight grip.

It feels like an eternity has passed when you finally come back to your senses. You’re vaguely aware of him withdrawing from between your legs. The distinct sound of a zipper quickly clears your dazed mind as you turn your head towards the end of the bed. You let out a weak whimper as the delicious sight of Vergil lazily stroking his cock greets your wandering eyes. He meets your heady stare before asking one last time with a lustful purr:

“May I make love to you now?”  

His final request rekindles your desire as you answer with a desperate cry: 

“I wanna feel you inside me!”

Vergil groans at your shameless response before pouncing on top of you. He seizes your lips with a fiery kiss while your arms encircle his neck. Both of your tongues clash against each other as he lifts your legs up before wrapping them around his hips. Then, he reaches down and adjusts his length before pressing the tip against your aching sex.

You relax and brace yourself as he gently sheathes every inch of his cock within your wet and velvety heat. He pauses for a moment, watching for any sign of discomfort before thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace. Your loving gaze never strays from his affectionate stare as both of you revel in each other’s pleasure.  

Your blissful sighs gradually turn into euphoric moans as his hips drive into you faster and faster. His brow furrows in concentration as he shifts your legs further up his waist, making you whine helplessly as his cock hits your sweet spot over and over. It doesn’t take you long to reach the precipice again, begging him to join you with a whispered plea:

“Please...come inside me, my love!” 

Vergil roars as your silken sex flutters around his cock, softly milking every drop of his seed as both of you come in each other’s embrace. His demanding tongue devours every ravished cry that spills from your lips, grunting with every stroke as he prolongs both of your pleasure. The sight, the smell, the sound of this moment...you never want it to end! 

But eventually, both of you drift back down to the waking world to bask in the afterglow together. You whisper your love and adoration for the devil that stole your heart while Vergil softly sings your praises with a gentle smile. Then, he fetches a damp washcloth and cleans you up before pulling you into his protective embrace beneath the covers. And as the rhythm of his soft heartbeat lulls you to sleep, you feel certain of one thing after this night:

Never in your wildest dreams have you ever felt so loved. 

[jjaeong]

The Heiress, & The Twelve. Act I.

Episode II: The World, Turned Upside Down.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: OT12 & Mafia Heiress Female Reader.

Summary: As Haseul told Y/L/N Y/N of her origin and purpose, her life had quickly shifted in preparing for her upcoming initiation. And if Y/N thought coming back to take the position that had been destined to her by blood was going to be easy, she'd yet to think again—as she'd been blatantly deemed unworthy by a few members of her own Family.

"So what you're telling me is that.. My real name is actually Y/L/N Y/N, Sooyoung-unnie isn't my real sister—and that I'm supposed to be an heiress to a Mafia Family that's currently the most strongest running Family there is..?"

"Yes."

"..And I'm just supposed to become a boss? Just like that?" The orange haired lady whom had introduced herself earlier by the name Vivi giggled at your puzzled expression, before looking back at the acting boss, Haseul, that studied you carefully as she sat rested back on her seat.

"Precisely."

"But I'm barely of legal age? And I'm still in High School?"

"You Grandfather became our boss just when he graduated from Middle School."

"This doesn't even make any sense!" your eyes snapped over to Sooyoung's who looked almost just as exasperated as you were. Though the woman had been revealed to not be your actual sister, the way you both seemed to have acted with one another after the revelation was exactly the same—even though she knew of it from the start, she still looked at you with the same gentle eyes as if nothing had been said. Jinsol, the woman with the defined jawline shot up from her seat to stare directly at you.

"She's right, this doesn't make sense anymore," Jinsol turned to Haseul with a pleading look while the other girl just kept her eyes dead set on you, "Haseul, we're good now! We've peaked over the last year under your leadership—if we hand it to this.. Child, we'll lose control over our own people before she even gets past initiation!"

"Jinsol, don't—"

"Don't what!? You know damn well what I'm saying right now is what's going to happen after this! What more do you guys need to hear!?" Hyunjin stood from her spot to make a move towards Jinsoul who shot her a warning look just when Jungeun grabbed ahold of the younger girl's wrist, Haseul then tore her eyes off of yours to nod at Jungeun before looking up at Jinsoul's dejected expression.

"Go outside and keep watch with Gowon's team, I will speak with you later." Jinsoul clenched her jaw, practically scowling at you before bowing in Haseul's direction, slipping out of the room just as Jungeun stood from her spot to follow after the girl. Haseul then looked over to Hyunjin, who remained standing stiff on her spot with eyes stuck on the entrance of the living room.

"Would you like to follow too, Hyunjin?" Haseul asked just as Hyunjin blinked, shaking her head in reply before sitting back down and staring vacantly at the ground.

"At your command, Unnie."

"I'll go," Sooyoung answered, rising from her seat when you opened your mouth to protest—not wanting to be left alone with these people you barely knew—but your older sister only shook her head at you, "you can trust them with your life, Y/N. I'll be back when they leave," her eyes then moved to the two girls that sat closest to you.

"At least when the majority of them do."

"We're not asking you to immediately become the boss, Y/N. What we're asking from you is for you to accept the role which was bound to you by birthright." Haseul didn't waste a single second as she quickly resumed from where she left off—just before Jinsoul's outburst. Sooyoung then bowed as well, leaving you with only four members of your Family with you as Haseul turned to look at Heejin this time, motioning for her to present you something.

"You are to be trained, to take all the necessary steps until you're enough to not just be an image to our Family—but as an actual boss, the matriarch of thousands of our associates who's loyalties lie only to you, to the blood." you felt your throat dry up as Heejin reached over to place a small, golden plated box with twelve colored gemstones that surrounded the outer rim and the lid of it with the first letter of your last name engraved on the top. The girl pressed what seemed to be a hidden lock on the box, for it to slowly open and reveal what reminded you closely of Jungeun's pin from earlier—except this one had a clear image of a golden full moon in the middle, surrounded by what you'd initially think as blue gem stones but from how it practically oozed of vivid clarity..

A blue diamond ring.

"You can't escape this, Y/N. Your predecessors had carried this through for thousands of years—none of them even dared to attempt a decline. And so will you."

"Is that a threat?" your voice almost failed you as you tried to muster up the courage to talk back, to which Haseul only returned a disappointed expression at.

"If that is how you want to look at it, then so be it."

You leaned back on your seat, feeling defeated as everyone looked at you expectantly with the ring that sat in the golden box taunting you—as if it was asking you to take it and just accept your destiny. But would it truly be such a loss if you didn't bother to try in the first place? How would you know how deep this entire.. Bounded by blood to the Mafia would be any different to how you've always lived your life? Other than the usual days spent doing your chores and diving into your hobbies once they're done—would it be replaced with dropping out of school to do combat training and sign paper works?

The saying with "curiosity killed the cat" echoed in the back of your head, but then will your curiosity get you killed as well?

"We're not like the usual Mafias you see on television, Y/N. Your grandfather had always been clear with the Family values," you looked back up to find Haseul's lips pulled up into a tight lipped smile, eyes seemingly in deep thought though she kept them on you, "for all these years that we've worked under his care, he lived a simple life and wanted all of us to have the privilege of living the same way."

"You mean after years of slaughtering who ever got in the Family's way got repetitive so he decided to stop?" Haseul's thoughtful eyes quickly shifted into an expression that looked as if she was stung by your choice of words.

"We never resort into such barbaric actions—until it is just."

"And how do you know that? Aren't you just taking orders from him because that's where your loyalty lies? To the blood? Because he's a Y/L/N?" you pressed even further, slowly finding yourself disapproving of whatever statement the acting boss was trying to convey about your Family. The thought of the current highest ranking member of your Family speaking of the group as if looking through rose colored glasses had rubbed you the wrong way.

To you, this is just another Mafia—you've heard about the association well enough to understand that they kill when needed to, but that doesn't justify all those who could've possibly felt the wrath of your Family name when they were barely proven guilty. But to Haseul, as you've observed, she holds the Family at such a high place that it even convinced all four members that were present in front of you, everyone seemed to have understood where she was coming from.

Only you didn't understand, having the perception of a complete outsider, a civilian that was about to be dragged into the dark depths of an underground business empire.

"Y/N, please. Keep an open mind.." Haseul pleaded through her teeth, making you look away from her to stare at the wall behind her. She seemed to have paused for a moment to see if you had wanted to push even further, but when you kept your mouth shut she released a sigh, feeling disheartened at how little you expected from them when they've anticipated for your return for over a year.

"When you become boss.. You will be able to turn the Family around, your beliefs will be weighed along with the members to find a common ground. We can shape the values to what you'd want under your command, Y/N—your grandfather did his best to undo the mistakes of the past bosses as well," your eyes locked with Haseul's yet again, but this time, she had a knowing look set on her features, "you can turn this Family around, just like he did when he took us in."

Took them in? So all these women were all under your grandfather's care? He took care of over seven or more girls yet he couldn't even pay you a visit?

"Why did he.. Keep me away?" you dragged slowly, keeping your eyes on Haseul even though she could clearly see the pain in your eyes as you spoke. Heejin turned to look away from you, not wanting to make you feel any less of yourself at the slightest hint of vulnerability in your voice as Hyunjin inhaled deeply before doing the same.

"The night your Mother was assassinated—was your Father's initiation. You were with her in that separate room, supposed to be kept safe until it was done but.."

"We were attacked," Vivi continued, speaking for the first time since she introduced herself. The lady who was claimed to be the eldest of the group had a calculated smile gracing her features as she looked at you, "at the ceremony, I was the one that first identified the traitors—they were interrogated after that night. It was a coup, they didn't approve of your Father becoming the boss."

"Why?"

"He had the same vision as your Grandfather, he wanted everyone to live a simple life just as he'd experience when he left with you and your Mother a few years back."

"He returned because your Grandfather fell ill. But when your Mother died, his guilt got to him and.." the grim expression that fell on Haseul's face already said enough of how it all ended as you sat there, moving your eyes from Haseul to Vivi who eyed the Leader before she faced you again, nodding slowly.

"And so your Grandfather left you with the Ha's to make sure you were kept alive."

"You're our only hope in finishing what they both had wanted for your Family, Y/N. We can't achieve this on our own, we need a true Y/L/N to stand for us.." Haseul started to sound desperate, the collected girl looked as if at any given moment she would lose it and shut herself down. You still couldn't entirely understand what these girls were trying to persuade you into—but something inside of you just gave into it, they barely even look like the type of members that would end lives without a second thought.

They were following what seemed to be a great cause before, there must've been some sort of oath that had been pledged among these girls with your lineage even before meeting you.

You’d be lying if your curiosity didn’t catch up at the thought of uncovering more.

"Okay." the members tensed up on their seats as you sat up on your own, eyeing the ring that made your heart race up at the thought of it slipping it on your finger.

"You'll guide me, right? Tell me how everything goes and.. Not lie to me about it?" you mentally cringed at your lack of proper vocabulary that would be suited with your destined high position.

Haseul made it look easy.

"Of course, you'll be the future of our Family—coming clean with you is the least of your worries with us." Haseul waved her hand dismissively as you hummed in acknowledgement, eyeing the ring yet again when you heard Vivi giggle yet again.

"Go on, you're supposed to wear it to officially become one with us." she pointed at the box before standing up on her spot, grabbing the empty tea pot that she had practically finished herself before slipping past you and your members to probably make some more. You took note of Vivi's informality with the acting boss when Haseul barely tore her eyes away from you, anticipation practically dripping from her expression.

Reaching over to the box and pulling the ring from it's velvet cushion, the members seemed to have held their breaths as you inspected the delicate designing of the ring closely, eyeing the material in awe at how luxurious it seemed. And with the thought that Jungeun's pin looked expensive, this one looked almost ten times more than what it's bargained for. You slipped it in your left pointer finger and the three practically sighed at the image, your eyes still stuck on the golden full moon crest that lay on the top of the ring.

"Just like your pins." you breathed, looking over to Heejin’s tie to observe her pink gemstone pin with a golden silhouette of a rabbit in the middle. The girl smiled charmingly back at you, eyes crinkling into crescents as she did so.

"Just like our pins."

"I'm going to call Sooyoung-unnie and tell the others we're finished for the day." Heejin simply pat both her knees before standing up with a grin on her lips, smiling even further when you looked up at her which made your cheeks flush before she literally skipped out of the living room. Hyunjin rested the back of her head on the couch, covering her face with both hands as Haseul continued to smile warmly at you.

"We'll be meeting again soon, but for now this is where we'll cut it short. I've assigned Jinsoul, Heejin, and Hyunjin to stay here with you and Yves starting today—just a precaution if the news about your return breaks out." Haseul said as you blinked at her before knitting your brows, thinking to yourself about how fast the leader had planned everything out—as if she already knew how this meeting would end up.

"If I'm guessing the.. “Aliases” correctly—Jinsol is Jinsoul, Heejin is.. Heejin, Hyunjin is—"

"I use my real name too." Hyunjin's muffled voice uttered against her palm, which made you look at her and she just winked at you, completely expressionless.

You wonder why the girl acted like that.

"Okay, then.. Um.. Why is Sooyoung named Yves?"

"The Ha's had been part of the Family since before your grandfather's time, when your grandfather named us—he had certain ideas in mind. Yves refers to the first woman to ever grace the Earth." you looked at Haseul in astonishment.

"So he's sentimental?"

"He named Jiwoo-unnie 'Chuu', I wouldn't go that far." Hyunjin snorted as you almost followed suit, clasping a hand on your mouth at the thought of some Mafia member beating the living daylights out of them, only to remind them to remember her name.

"Kahei is Vivi, Chaewon is Gowon, Hyejoo is Olivia Hye, Yerim is Choerry, and Jungeun is Kim Lip." Haseul named them all for you to only furrow your brows in puzzlement at the information that there were actually more of them.

And why was your Jungeun-unnie named Kim Lip?

"We don't always use our aliases when we're just with one another, we only use them when we're outside doing errands." the acting boss added, holding a finger up as Vivi came back from the kitchen with what seemed to be a handful of the brownies that Sooyoung had made the night before. Vivi then gave you one before handing another to a suddenly perked up Hyunjin that shoved the entire thing in her mouth in one go. You stared at her as she stared right back at you with a mouthful of brownies, tilting her head as she chewed.

"Sooyoungie needs to make more of these." Vivi said as she bit a piece from her brownie to which you followed with your own. Haseul stood up to then bow at you which quickly got you up on your feet to bow back but she shook her head, smiling as she straightened.

"You need to get used to the formalities soon, you'll be our boss after all."

"Please, call me Y/N. And tell them outside as well.." Haseul nodded as she walked out of the living room with Vivi following suit, but not before smiling back at you. You felt your brownie being snatched from your grasp, only to find Hyunjin shoving it in her mouth as she stared at the entrance of the living room with a pondering expression before turning to look back to you.

"You're oddly informal with me—compared to your leader." Hyunjin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after she swallowed down your brownie, scrunching her nose up at you before eyeing you from head to toe for the second time since your meeting.

"Aeong."

After the events had settled in, you found yourself squished between Jungeun and Jiwoo's embrace as you all managed to fit in your small bed. The two kept apologizing as you gave them a look the moment they stepped foot in your view and had you in theirs arms in no time, and it didn't stop until the two were sleeping peacefully in bed with you, Jiwoo mumbling an apology as if she was still dreaming about it. You'd expected your room to be packed as Jinsol, Heejin, and Hyunjin had made this place their own as well, but since Sooyoung shared her room with Jinsol—the guest bedroom was then occupied by the two other girls, after much to Heejin convincing Hyunjin you'd be safe since your two Unnies have decided to stay with you just for the night.

But Hyunjin swore that the next day, she'd be sleeping in your room whether you'd wanted it or not—to which Heejin only sighed at and asked you if she could as well, not wanting to be the last one to wake up if there was an emergency. 

Breakfast was practically the liveliest it’s ever been since you and Sooyoung moved to the house in the city, with both of your parents staying in the country side and Sooyoung graduating High School just a year ago—you both had barely seen each other in the house, but when you did you check up on how the other’s been until your workloads caught up with you again. And so watching Hyunjin and Heejin arguing from who’s getting the last pancake, Jiwoo and Jungeun singing a duet song you’ve heard too many times in one morning—and a silent Jinsol sitting next to Sooyoung who then stood up to grab Hyunjin and Heejin by their ears to tell them to just cut it in half.

But as you found your eyes lingering Jinsol, she tore her eyes off Sooyoung's prepared breakfast to set on you, a grim look setting on her features before she pushed off of her seat to leave. Jungeun stopped singing with Jiwoo to watch the woman retreat, to which you'd hope was just back upstairs to her room but only to feel disheartened when you heard the front door shut close—looking back down on your plate without seeing Jungeun and Jiwoo's worried eyes trained on you.

You could already tell that being stuck with these girls wasn't going to just smoothly pass you by, adding up the fact that this was a Mafia, with real lives on the line under your name—you understood the cold shoulder that would've come from a member sooner or later.

The way to school had you sitting in the back seat of the luxurious yellow car from last night—that had been revealed to be Hyunjin’s—with a void expression set on your face as your mind did it’s best to decline the image in front of you. Hyunjin tailed Jungeun’s electric red car in front on the way to your school, with your mind making up some excuse that you wish the two that sat in front were only kidding as they donned your school uniform which you had merely glanced at earlier—only realizing what was about to happen the minute you squeezed in the back seat. As if it couldn’t get any worse, Heejin popped open the compartment to rummage what you couldn’t see at first—until the girl pulled out a golden plated pistol from the container, as if it was completely ordinary for her to do so.

“Heejin, what are you even—we’re going to school, not a battlefield!” Hyunjin glanced at Heejin who looked at you as if you're the one that had grown two heads.

“We need to be ready at all times, Y/N. They won’t hesitate to kill us, trust me—I’ve seen it.”

“You guys can’t be serious!” Heejin kept her concerned eyes on you the entire time she loaded her gun, glancing down at the magazine to pop it back in and easing a bit of your tension when she put the safety on before handing it to Hyunjin, who only needed one hand to hold the wheel to shove the tip of the gun on the band of her skirt behind her—concealing the gun with the uniform coat. And so there you sat, watching in complete despair as the two supposedly simple High School girls—looking almost like an image of pure innocence in their uniforms—continue to arm themselves on the way to school. Just before Hyunjin parked the car, Heejin attempted to at least hand you a combat knife which made you shoot her a look.

“You’ll get used to it sooner or later.” Heejin nonchalantly said as Hyunjin pushed her door, exiting the car to quickly pull her seat to the front so you could also get out. You suppressed a groan once you found almost the entire student body standing still on their spots to gawk at Hyunjin’s car and the two new students that had easily won the hearts of the onlookers. The only thing that stopped you from stomping to your class was Jiwoo exiting Jungeun’s car that had just shut it’s engine next to you, she let her usual excited squeal out as if the three of you didn’t just tail after them or came from the same place as they had.

“I told you I had someone in mind to park in my spot! Aren’t you excited Y/N? You’re finally going to have friends in your class!” Jiwoo wrapped her arms around your body to spin you around while giggling, correcting herself mid way to drag the word “family” before releasing you from her hold, smiling adorably at Hyunjin who looked at the older girl in horror. As Jungeun and Heejin rounded the car to join the three of you, Jiwoo bounced on her feet excitedly before squishing her cheek against an endeared Heejin who did her best to reciprocate the energy.

Wait.. Did she just say your class?

“Why me..?” you stared up at the sky in dread when an unfamiliar voice called Hyunjin from the other side of Jungeun’s car, the familiar wavy haired girl smiled brightly at the sight of the five of you, followed by the short girl, the mint hair colored girl, and the expressionless dark haired girl who almost fell over when Jiwoo ran up to smother the girl with affection. 

“Unnie! You look cool in our uniform!” the girl with the bright smile complimented Hyunjin who’s expression quickly shifted into an endearing one, reaching over to ruffle the younger girl’s hair to which the girl laughed at, attempting to shove her hand away.

“Girls, introduce yourselves to Y/N.” Jungeun cut the encounter short, the four girls turning to look at you.

“Choi Yerim, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you Y/N-unnie!” the wavy haired girl beamed up at you, no hesitation as she reached over to grab your hand and shake it excitedly—for her to only gasp when she stopped mid-way to stare down at the ring on your finger, to which made your eyes subconsciously look at her tie to find purple gemstones and a golden resemblance of a bat.

“Park Chaewon, and this is Son Hyejoo. Yerim, Hyejoo and Hyunjin are triplets.” the mint haired girl motioned to the girl with intimidating eyes next to her, but as Hyejoo seemed to have assessed exactly who you’d be in her life—she bowed in greeting, to which Yerim gasped at before she did the same.

“No, it’s fine guys—please, I’m not initiated yet,” the stood back up on their height as you turned to look at Hyunjin who seemed to have been staring at you the entire time, “and you three bizarrely do.. Look alike.”

“We’re not related, it’s just what we’re known to be called for. Chaewon always tend to give off the wrong impression.”

“Im Yeojin.” the shortest girl bowed without directly making eye contact with you, turning to Jungeun to tell her she’d be heading to class now and left without another word. Yerim gave you an apologetic look.

“She’s Haseul-unnie’s younger sister, she’s just worried for her," she shyly smiled this time, looking around at your group before placing a hand on Jungeun and Hyunjin's arm to glance at the commotion behind her to Jiwoo shaking Hyejoo as she coo'ed, with Chaewon groaning at the sight and Heejin laughing—arms wrapped around Chaewon's arms as they both stared at the other two, "we did our usual rounds, no signs of threat today too."

"Good, that means no one's caught up on our rendezvous yesterday. Stay on guard, they could easily get someone in the vicinity." Yerim nodded at Jungeun's calculating look before the older girl looked at Hyunjin with a stern expression.

"And if it comes down to a fight, Hyunjin and Heejin are with Y/N. That's the closest they can get to her."

"They'll have to figure out which one of us is the boss first." Yerim's lips started to pull up in a grin when you looked at her in confusion just before Hyunjin nodded, grabbing hold of your forearm gently to then eye the two.

"Get to class, we'll talk more later." and with that, the expressionless girl tugged you over to Heejin whom she also practically dragged away by the forearm. Jiwoo and Yerim waved at your retreating figure with big smiles as Chaewon apparently followed behind the three of you, staying close but not too close.

"Why wouldn't Chaewon just walk next to us?" you asked once Hyunjin let go of you and Heejin, the older of the two scurrying from Hyunjin's opposite side to take her place on your left with a contented smile on her lips. Hyunjin merely glanced down at your curious gaze before facing the bustling hallway again, not paying an ounce of attention to your fellow students that gawked at the two girls that walked beside you.

"She's guarding our rear," Hyunjin stated before looking back at you with a knowing look, "if she's seen with us, the enemy would assume she's part of our group. So if she guards from afar.."

"We're at an advantage, got it." you finished, to which Hyunjin nodded at, turning back to the hallways—with you not being able to see the impressed look on her face as you caught up quickly. Heejin peeked from next to you, smiling with her hands behind her back.

"Did you ever catch Chaewon following you around?" Heejin asked when you looked at the girl in bewilderment.

"What?"

"She's been ordered to guard you since the boss passed, over a year ago." Hyunjin said beside you, making you look behind you at the striking girl with flowing mint-colored hair who looked as if she was gliding smoothly past the people around her—something about her aura lit the halls up yet at the same time, she camouflaged in them.

Park Chaewon had been walking behind you for an entire year, and the only time you've actually seen her was that one time in the gymnasium assembly—and the other when she talked to Jungeun in the lot.

The girl was damn good at her job.

"Don't stare at her too long, you don't want rumors of being connected to her floating around. You'll make her job harder for her." you heard Hyunjin say, feeling her hand on your forearm yet again to which made you turn back to the front—but not before shooting Chaewon a tiny smile, making the girl's lips twitch before nodding ever so slightly.

"But she's in the class next to ours, right..?" Heejin laughed, gently bumping her shoulder to yours which made you also bump into Hyunjin who didn't even look back at you two. The soft-featured girl slinging an arm loosely around your shoulders to grin at you.

"Just trust in Kahei, Y/N. She knows what she's doing."

Oh, so the team's strategy is Vivi's role.

When you sat on your assigned seat, you've decided to finally drop the continuous surprise at how fast the group had seemed to settle in your life when the two seats by your own that were usually occupied by your classmates had now been moved to sit in the back of the room—to which Heejin and Hyunjin then taken as if it had been theirs all this time. It didn't stop them from their class introduction though, with Kim Hyunjin staring at the back of the room with a vacant expression—the complete opposite of Heejin's shy smiles and sparkling eyes setting on each student in your class.

You winced at the boys cheering and the girls quickly trying to chat them both up in front of your class advisor, telling them to settle down when Hyunjin barely spared a glance at them as she walked back to the seat next to you—with Heejin apologizing and waving along the way.

You wondered how much longer the day would drag before something else comes to continue flipping your world upside down.

Hello~

I started to write on my laptop and this is way more fun than doing it on my phone (specially proofreading overused words) but as far as this series goes, this chapter did not go the way I envisioned it but.. It still came close. And this is fine too, but now that Y/N and the girls have met—I wonder how this is going to play out. A soft next episode? Maybe a hint of action? We won’t know until it’s there~

Are you guys liking this too? I kind of am, but I need more foundation to the lore in my head and I’m trying to plan out each episode the best I can. All writers want to achieve with their writing is giving a clear picture of their vision through words, you know? Vibe.

Anyways, here’s an episode~ I hope you guys really are enjoying this, I’m slowly easing back into my writing style back when I used to be passionate about writing—so it’ll continue to be lengthy, and more so when I keep at this~ But that’s all for this Author’s Note. The idea of the pins and ring though, had me giggling like a school girl to myself lmao.

And yes, the title was a Hamilton reference aha!

Laters,

JJ.

>ovc: Mnet-KPOP (200206)

https://youtu.be/BRgfqbu3GdE

[passable-talent]

Hi yes so I just finished the anakin punk au and it was uh perfect? And you should 100% please write more in that au it doesn’t even have to be in some coherent storyline, just more punk anakin please I am hooked

say no more my dear

I write this. and I think to myself “punks. they like weed. they drink. I should talk about that.”

and then I don’t. because I have a,,, responsibility to promote good health I guess?

don’t do drugs kids. most of them arent worth it i promise

and yes just like i mentioned wattpad in the last one tumblr is coming up on this one we’re breaking the FUCKING fourth wall

part one here

You passed out on his shoulder, exactly as he predicted, at about 2:00 AM.

He didn’t notice for a few minutes, and once he had, he had to make a very hard decision. 

He knew you were leaving in the morning, you had other places to be. And he had to get home, Cliegg was going to be pissed he’d been out this late as it was. But- just like you, he never wanted the night to end.

At 2:15, he shimmied out from under you, finding your room key quickly. Once he’d slipped it into his pocket, he picked you up, carrying you all the way back to your room. The door seemed to scream as it opened, but none of the girls were awake. He laid you onto the only empty bed, leaving your room key on the dresser, and kneeled at your beside, for just a moment. 

A night he wasn’t going to forget. One he wasn’t willing to leave behind. 

He found the notepad left by the hotel for guests and its nearby pen, scribbling his phone number onto it before smacking it onto your room key so that he knew you’d see it. 

He wasn’t taking any chances. He did everything he could to make sure that you were safe, that you’d sleep soundly, that he’d see you again. It was a bit of a walk back to where he’d left his car, at the venue, but it was worth it- he shrugged his jacket up around his neck against the cold and kept going, remembering how it’d felt to hold you. 

But, in all of his kindness, he had made one mistake. You didn’t get to say goodbye. 

You woke up in the hotel room the next morning, for a moment thinking that maybe you’d dreamed the whole thing. But then you realized you still had your shoes on, and you were laying on top of the sheets, why the hell would I do that, and you phone hadn’t been plugged in, and- 

And there was a phone number on the dresser. 

You weren’t really ‘dating’- you shouldn’t call it that. If you were going to call it that, then there would inevitably be a post on someone’s tumblr that you had a boyfriend, and who was he, where was he from, yada yada... that damn website already had half the internet convinced you were dating Padme, you didn’t want to add any more fuel to the fire. 

So no, you weren’t dating. But you were texting every day. You learned so much about him, about how he was raised by his mom and worked at her friend Watto’s auto shop, about his step-brother and future step-sister-in-law, how his mom died when he was nineteen, about how he’d tried to move to California with his friend Obi-Wan a few years ago, but it fell through. In return, you told him about your life- living in the outskirts of San Francisco, being pushed into ballet lessons as a kid (as he said- ‘that’s why you look weightless on stage!’), being cut out from your family for quitting college to pursue music. 

You texted every day and every night, sent him videos from gigs, and he sent dumb little snapchats from underneath whatever car he was working on. You expected that to be it, probably for a long time- neither of you had the money nor the time to see each other more often. So you held onto the connection you had, the night you’d spent together. 

And you thought that’d be it. But- the universe has a funny way of surprising you. 

Your record label was based in LA, so you lived in Salta Ana, about thirty miles away, where the real estate was way cheaper. The band lived together, close as four friends could be, so they knew all about how you’d fallen for Anakin. Ahsoka would notice you glued to your phone, and ask snarkily “texting skyguy?” to which you always scolded her that his name was Skywalker. 

Living so close to LA made it easy to do gigs at any venue that would take you- bars, clubs, a particularly anarchist biker hall. A bar- such was the case for tonight. 

Like usual with a gig like this, Aayla had taken to instagram and called any fan in the area, so the bar was mostly filled with people who knew the music, but there were regulars, too. People who couldn’t be damned to listen to the lyrics, and just let the atmosphere move them. 

The setlist changed, when you were at a place like this. You didn’t necessarily rely on the hundred voice chorus that you loved so much, and so couldn’t include some of those songs. Your music strayed a little more to the rock end of the spectrum, when you played in places like this. With that high energy came faster music, more running around the stage, more movement, but you weren’t tired, when the set ended at 11:25. You were more energized than usual, in fact.

“Pads, I’ve never heard you solo like that!” You said, a bright smile on your face as you pushed out of the employee entrance of the bar. She gave you thanks, but not a moment later stopped dead, not saying a word, staring at you. You paused, looking at her, then Ahsoka and Aayla, who’d both stopped, too. 

“What?” Ahsoka and Aayla, though, were looking at something past you, which made you realize that Padme was, too. You turned, and leaning against the wall was- was Anakin. 

“Oh my god,” you said under your breath, dropping into a run toward him immediately. “Anakin!” He shoved himself off of the wall, letting you run into his arms, and just held you. You pulled away to look at him, amazed that after months, here he was, right in front of you, real. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, bewildered, surprised, ecstatic. 

“Visiting Obi-Wan,” he said, and he lifted his hand to your face, giving you a good look at that tattoo you hadn’t quite forgotten, dark lines reaching from his elbow to his palm. 

“And you,” he added. You couldn’t help it- you hadn’t seen him in so long, you couldn’t help the way you leaned into it when he pulled you into a kiss, and this time you weren’t exhausted, and you could let yourself feel it, you could pay attention to his chapped lips and the way he slid them over yours, still soft, even after waiting in the cold. You never wanted to leave this moment, like so many of the others that you spent with him, his hands on your face keeping away the January air. 

“Yeah, I’m heading home,” Ahsoka said, making you break the kiss. “Coming, or not?” You looked back at her with a bit of a glare, letting Anakin’s hands fall to your neck. 

“You guys go ahead,” you said, checking your jacket pocket for the essentials- wallet, phone, house keys. “I think I have a tradition to uphold.” 

The bar you’d played at tonight was a bit far away from the place you wanted to take Anakin, but you didn’t mind the walk, since it was with him. You’d been texting every day, and yet it felt different, there was so much more to talk about now. 

Apparently, Anakin hadn’t seen Obi-Wan since he’d left to move to LA, so it was a visit to an old friend as much as it was an excuse to see you again. 

“So you’re staying with him?” You asked, leading him by the arm down the street. 

“Yeah,” he said, hooking his elbow into yours, which let him keep his hands in his pockets. “He’s got an apartment in east LA, it’s got a nice couch.”

“East LA, not bad. What’s he do?” 

“He’s a talent manager, actually. Went to business school and everything.” Anakin paused, suppressing a chuckle. “He told me that he’d love to represent you, if you didn’t already have someone.” 

“Sadly, we do,” you said, playful, “but I’ll keep him in mind.” 

You’d pretend it was the winter chill that brought the flush to your cheeks- he’d told his friend about you. That had to mean you were important to him, right?

“Where are we heading, anyway?” He asked, and you, luckily, could channel your inner dramatic and turn toward the doorway you’d been heading toward all along. 

“Right here,” you said, and you took him inside. 

This was your recording studio- it was always open, so that any artist could stop in and get out whatever creativity they had. You showed your ID card to the lobby clerk, who approved it and called the elevator. Anakin followed your lead until the door closed, and just like you had on the night you met him, you pressed the button for the highest floor. 

“This is one of the buildings for our record company,” you said, the elevator so familiar. 

“Which would explain why he let you in,” Anakin said, a slight teasing tone to his voice. All you could do was chuckle, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor.

From there, you lead him to a glass door, and swiped your ID card through a reader near its frame so you could step outside. 

“This is the rooftop set,” you said, gesturing to the wide space, “It’s where we film a lot of music videos.” This close to the door, it was hard to see over the side of the building, and so you took Anakin’s hand.

“The city lights keep us from stargazing,” you said with a smile, and brought him to the guardrail at the edge of the roof. “So I thought I’d show you the city’s version of the night sky.” Looking out across the city, there were a thousand orange sparkles, windows illuminated in buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. Criss-crossed between them were lines of red and white, LA traffic clogging the city streets even so late at night. 

No matter how many times you came up here, you’d never get tired of the view. Fifty-five stories up, there were other buildings that dwarfed this tower, but the west was free of them, so your view to the horizon was clear, even in the LA overcast. 

“Wow,” he said, looking out over it all beside you. “I’ve never- I don’t think I’ve ever been up this high.” You fixed him with a surprised expression, leaning your elbows down onto the banister. 

“No? Really?”

“I didn’t grow up in a city, like you,” he said, settling in beside you, his arm pressed to yours. You let your head rest onto his shoulder, remembering the night you met. 

“I’m glad you came out to LA,” you said, “though I’m hoping you’ll stay a while. I  want to go on an actual date with you.” You heard him exhale.

“You don’t call this a date?” he asked, and you lifted your head, looking at him, the lights of the city giving his face the slightest, golden glow. 

“Well, I mean-” If this was a date, then so had been the one after the show, back in October. Which meant this was your second date, and you’d technically been ‘dating’ this whole time, which kinda made him your- boyfriend? 

“Is it?” Anakin slipped his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“This is better than any dinner and movie we could’ve gone to, I think.” He turned over your hand, tracing his first finger over the skyline tattoo that bisected your forearm. “Especially since it seems like this means a lot to you.” You couldn’t believe he’d noticed that tattoo- it meant he really was paying attention to you. 

“Yeah,” you said with a smile, lifting your arm up, his hand still held in yours, aligning the tattoo with the skyline you were looking at. “I got this done after we did our first video.” Silently, he examined the ink and compared it to the sky, seeing what you meant. 

“That’s really cool,” he said, bringing your hand back down, since his fingers were getting cold in the wind, and he had to assume yours were too. 

“How long are you going to be in town?” You asked, resting your temple down onto his shoulder again. 

“A week, or so. Watto says he needs me to work on a mustang that we’re getting- I think Cliegg told him to say that since he doesn’t want me in the city.” 

“Well, I don’t want to undermine your dad,” you said, “But I wouldn’t complain if you stayed here a lot longer than that.” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “It’s really nice to actually have you with me, and not over the phone.” Anakin turned to kiss the top of your head.

“Tell me about it. It’s worse for me, I promise- I listen to your music all the time, and it just makes me want to see you.” 

“Sometimes I forget that you were once just a fan,” you said with a laugh, “listening to our music.” 

“The luckiest one in the world,” Anakin added, and you almost wondered how you’d ever lived without him. 

You let a moment pass, in silence. 

“I’m twenty five,” you started, wondering if you had the courage to finish, “do you think I’m too young to be in love?” Anakin didn’t respond, at first. He turned to you, lifting his furthest hand to your face, making you look up at him. You could never get over those blue eyes- you’d forgotten how intense they were. 

“I guess it depends on the guy,” Anakin said, his teeth quickly catching his lower lip. “Do you think you are?” You reached up past his arm to his face, your first finger tracing his eyebrow before your palm came to rest on the ridge of his cheekbone.

“No,” you said, and you rushed forward to meet his lips. 

-🦌 Roe

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Alchemist Returns

Strap in folks, cause this is going to be a long one. In truth, there are very few flaws in this episode, but in order to explain them I have to really get into some character analysis first. 

Summary:  Varian comes to Rapunzel for help in finding the remnants of the mystical golden flower, which may hold the key to stopping the Black Rocks. Working together, they venture through the old tunnels beneath Corona. Meanwhile Cass and Eugene work together to figure out who drugged the castle’s populace with a truth serum. 

Behold! The One and Only Time Frederic is Called Out on His BS; and Nothing Comes of It. 

Rapunzel finally, finally stands up to her dad and points out both his abusiveness and his poor leadership. It doesn’t affect the narrative in anyway. Neither character learns anything from this nor changes their points of view. This conversation might as well not have happened given how the characters behave in later episodes/seasons. 

The only reason this scene exists is to give Rapunzel motivation for stealing the flower within the episode. A goal that she changes her mind about towards the end. Thereby walking back on such motivation and putting us back at square one with her development. 

Rapunzel Isn’t Being Truthful With Herself Nor the Audience 

So people aren't always one hundred percent truthful about what they want and their goals. Especially if it involves admitting something about yourself or a loved one that you don’t want to acknowledge. Fictional characters are meant to give the illusion of being real so they can sometimes mimic this behavior.  

Throughout the episode Rapunzel keeps on assisting that she’s doing this ‘for Corona’, but we’re given context clues along side that to tell us that her real reasons are about her relationship with her father. 

Unfortunately, the show has a bad habit of not communicating information clearly and also has a history of expecting the audience to take what the characters say at face value. Ergo, it’s easy to miss Rapunzel’s true motivations and thereby fail to fully understand her actions and decisions throughout. 

Once Again, These Prophetic Dreams Go Nowhere 

Dream Varian mentions Rapunzel has a ‘destiny’ but the show never spells out what that destiny actually is nor why she needs to fulfill it. Sure there’s a big quest for the moonstone in season two, but the rocks stop being a threat by then so really, she doesn’t actually need to go on that quest. In fact, she would save a lot of people at lot of trouble if she did nothing at all. That’s poor storytelling. You need something driving the action; a reason to motivate the hero.  

Secondly, we never get an explanation for why she randomly has these dreams in the first season but for none of the others. Nor why Varian is at the center of the them when it’s other villains she needs to actually be warned about, like say Zhan Tiri. 

No, the real reason why this dream sequence exists is just to reiterate Rapunzel’s internal conflict. She wants a relationship with her Dad, but he’s a male Gothel, and she’s now caught in the middle of his and Varian’s conflict because she failed to take responsibility when she needed to. And is still failing because she doesn’t want to shatter her illusions about Frederic. 

Shoving the main protagonist’s driving conflit into a subtextual dream sequence is lazy. Especially since we get no official resolution to said conflict. Rapunzel never acknowledges the problem here, never follows up on any type of action, and she never faces any true consequences for ignoring the issue. 

She carries on believing in her fantasy version of Frederic, even as he continues to do harmful things, and the narrative just rewards both her and him for it. 

There Should Have Been an Episode Showing the Audience Varian’s Side of the Story 

What happened to Varian in between Queen for a Day and this episode is told only through context clues. Nothing is stated outright, meaning the audience has to rely too heavily on inference and are left to piece together what happened on their own like a puzzle. That’s poor writing. 

Even something as simple as ‘how much time has past’ (its three months btw, S1 is six months long and QfaD is the meant to be the midpoint) is left up to the viewer to keep up with rather then being clearly stated. This is made even harder to do by the marketing team showing most of the episodes out of order. 

You need to clearly relay information to your audience. That means repeating said information in a variety of ways over the course of the story. Have those context clues, but also have more overt hints, and direct reveals interspersed along with that. Especially when dealing with the motivations and goals of the character driving the main plot. 

Even if you attribute the lack of a Varain episode to the ‘twist’ in this one, (a twist that was revealed in QfaD anyways) there’s still no excuse for why we didn’t get a flashback episode afterwards to fill this hole in narrative out.  

Don’t Pretend Ignorance Rapunzel 

Nigel literally repeated the rumor to her face last episode. She knows her father is lying about the rocks and attacked her for the scroll. She knows from the letter that those same guards were chasing down Varian for said scroll. She knows about Corona’s laws and what would happen to Varian if the guards caught him. 

There is zero reason for her to be acting like this is new information. Let alone have any right to feign concern after three months of ignoring his plea for help.

That’s what I mean about the series not communicating clearly and wanting the audience to take things at face value. The show deliberately has the characters say things that contradict established events to try and get the audience on their side. 

The episode is trying to telling us, ‘See! Rapunzel is innocent in all this cause she didn’t know, but she’s trying to make up for it now’. Yet, if you’ve been watching and paying attention to the details, you know that’s not the truth here. 

Good writing is about communicating ideas to your audience. But this show can’t decide on which idea to communicate. Is Rapunzel at fault or no? You can’t have it both ways. Either she screwed up and thereby caused the conflict in question now or she didn’t. If she didn’t, then events shouldn’t progress like they do. If she did, then it needs to be acknowledged and she needs to held accountable by the narrative.  

More Hints into Rapunzel's True Motivation 

I can’t stress this enough. Rapunzel’s reasons for stealing the flower has nothing to do with Corona. That is an excuse. It’s about trying to find out what her Dad is hiding from her and why he’s lying to her. This comment right here is what compels Raps to go along with his plan.  

Also...

Varian Isn’t Lying Here

I also want to make it perfectly clear that Varian is being upfront with Raps. He tells her his plan is to steal the flower and why. She’s the one that makes the assumption that this entails them only taking one petal and the assumption that ‘all our problems’ only means saving Corona. Even though saving Corona and saving Quirin are the same problem. (more on this later) 

It’s important to understand Rapunzel’s thought process and her true motivations in order to make sense of her actions later in the story. 

Rapunzel’s internal conflict is her need for autonomy versus her fear of rejection. The ‘for Corona’ and ‘one petal’ excuses are used because she thinks they’ll play well with her Dad. In order words, they’re reassurances to her that should she get caught and have to face her father’s disapproval then she could counteract his arguments with his own belief system about ‘putting the kingdom’s needs first’ and ‘following your own inner voice.’ 

And yes, both Rapunzel and Frederic are big fat hypocrites for this, but Rapunzel hasn’t acknowledged that fact to herself and is trying to convince herself throughout the episode to believe in her own excuses. 

Why Do You Care About Treason Rapunzel? 

For context, treason is the highest crime in any country. It’s punishable by death, even in the real world. Now each country has its own legal definition of what constitutes as treason. Here in a America, in Article III, Section 3 of the United States Constitution, treason is specifically limited to levying war against the US, or adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. And only during a time of war. Legally, a time of war has to be approved by the US congress. Technically, congress hasn’t declared war since World War II. This is why certain people haven’t been convicted of treason like acts both in, and out of, later US conflicts because the definition is arguably too narrow and specific. But it’s intentionally that way to help prevent false accusations and to keep people in power from murdering their political opposition. 

Before the US, treason just meant opposing the ruler of the land in any way. The founding fathers committed treason just by signing the Declaration of Independence. They all would have been executed had the US lost the revolution. Here in Corona, that old definition still stands. Simple theft of royal property, a non violent act, is considered treason and we already know it’s punishment. Eugene stole royal property and was almost hanged for it in the movie. 

Now Rapunzel though, she is royalty. This stuff she’s stealing is technically her own property. She’ll inherit all of these things once Queen. Moreover, we all know that Frederic wouldn’t harm Rapunzel let alone kill her. She’s not in any real danger here. So why does she care? 

Remember that Rapunzel’s internal conflict is personal autonomy versus her fear of rejection. She only hesitates in her pursuit of answers when reminded of Frederic’s possible disapproval. That’s why she stops under his frowning picture to say this. “Treason” only means possible rejection or disapproval from her father. The worst thing she faces is another argument with him.   

Meanwhile, Varian’s life is very much at stake here. He is risking everything, quite literally, to save his father. But his life was arguably forfeit as soon as Frederic decided he wanted the scroll. What’s to prevent the king from claiming that as his own property even when it’s really not? If he’s already sent guards after Varian and the scroll then that’s precisely what he’s already done. 

The series is acting like Rapunzel is the reasonable one here because she questions stealing, but the reality is she’s being selfish and willfully obtuse. Multiple lives are at stake here, including the one of the person she is talking to right now. Breaking the law, defying her father, in order to save those lives shouldn’t even be in question at all. 

Corona and Quirin Aren’t Conflicting Interests. 

Quirin and Corona are both facing the same problem. Solving one will inevitably mean solving the other. Any distinction between the two is solely created within Rapunzel’s own mind. 

She does this to to hide her true motivations and conflict from herself. The show does this to try and villainize Varian over Frederic. 

There’s a clear bias in who the series wants you to root for and so it skews the perception of what’s actually at stake by creating a non-existent competition between Quirin’s life and the country’s safety. Even though Quirin, Varian, and Old Corona are all apart of the kingdom. They’re all Rapunzel’s and Federic’s responsibly too. Saving Quirin’s life should be more than reason enough to steal the flower on it’s own. 

But this is ‘Rapunzel’s show’ and according to the creators, that means that her personal feelings are more important than actual human lives. Not really, but that’s their mindset and approach to conflicts in the show.

Rapunzel’s True Motivation is Revealed

So we’ve followed the hints, but here it is stated outright. This was never about Corona, the rocks,Varian’s safety, nor Quirin’s life. This is about her need for autonomy. Her own personal quest for assertiveness. She’s been bullied and abused by two steprate parental figures now and she’s growing tired of it. Which is understandable and valid, but it shouldn’t be made more important than everyone else’s problems. Everytime Rapunzel says ‘for Corona’, she really means ‘for herself.’ 

Rapunzel Shouldn’t be the Only Person Solving the Obstacles Here

Varian is just as smart as Rapunzel, if not smarter. This has been established throughout the show both before and after this episode. Meanwhile, Rapunzel is more physically adept than Varian. This whole sequence in the tunnels should have been both Rapunzel and Varian teaming up and complementing the other’s skill sets. They need to be on equal footing in order to sell their conflict later on. But the show deliberately down plays Varian’s competence in this episode in an effort to make Rapunzel look good.  

‘Girl power’ shouldn’t mean making the character perfect. It especially shouldn’t mean making other characters weaker in comparison. Women want equality. That means we want to see female characters treated as people. That means we want female characters to be flawed while still contributing to the plot same as the male characters. That doesn’t mean we want to be paraded around as the only competent person in the room. We want to be on the same level as the boys not above them.    

Over idealization and glorification of ‘strong’ female characters is just as problematic as damsels in distresses.

Writers like Chris Sonnenburg grew up during the heyday of Third-wave Feminism. Right on the cusp between second-wave and third-wave points of view as women really started to challenge Hollywood’s portrayal of themselves as homemakers and love interests. They wanted to be the heroes for once. Starting in the 60s and reaching pick popularity in the 70s and early 80s, film makers responded by making female characters who could physically fight but either failed to give them any sort of depth and/or made them the only archetype available.   

Chris, and several other male writers who lived during this era, have internalized this approach by default without actually examining how it came into existence nor why women would no longer be satisfied by this portrayal of them, if they ever were. All we’ve done is trade one stereotype for another, as male creators fetishize what was once meant to be an attempt to empower ourselves.       

Had Chis actually brought more female writers onto the show and listened to the criticisms from his female crew, he could have better avoided problems like the one above. But instead he dug in his heels and insisted that he already knew what we wanted. He doesn’t. 

Why Would You Assume This Eugene?

Varian hasn’t actually done anything wrong yet. His worst crimes are drugging people with a magic potion, which is what Xavier did without consequence only two episodes ago, and attempting to steal a magical healing flower that the king has been hoarding from his subjects anyways. A king who has been persecuting Varian unfairly and they know this because of Quest for Varian. 

Eugene of all people should be sympathetic towards Varian’s plight. He’s been there himself. He should also know that the rumors about Varian attacking Rapunzel are untrue because Raps told him about the events of Queen for a Day herself. 

Meanwhile Cassandra was actually there. She knows Varian’s problems and is supposedly his ‘friend.’ She has even less reason to be hostile towards him. 

But once again, the series has the characters respond to things that contradict established events in order to create a bias in the audience. “See, Eugene and Cass doesn’t trust Varian and neither should Rapunzel. See, how evil he really is?” It tries to tell us. In order to convince us to excuse Frederic’s behavior so that when the series does just that through Rapunzel choosing his side we’ll be on board with it. You know, unless you have been paying attention, already have a developed moral code, and the reasoning facilities of an adult. 

Rapunzel Lacks Empathy     

Keep in mind, ‘for Corona’ really means ‘for herself’. The only competition between Quirin and the kingdom is one that she’s fabricated in her own mind. Varian not caring about the island punctures holes into her excuses. Even though Varian is a fourteen/fifteen year old who holds no responsibility for the safety of a whole country. Especially one that’s mistreated him. Of course his father’s life is going to be more important to him. 

What Rapunzel is really asking here is, “Why don't you care about what I care about?” “Why aren’t you concerned about my feelings over your own?” 

Which makes sense for her character. She’s a woman who has been trapped in a tower her whole life. She lacks the experience needed to be an empathetic person. She’s never had to grieve before. The only permanent death she’s known is that of her abuser. Her trauma over nearly losing Eugene and Pascal was the fear of loss, not the actual process of living without someone. Rapunzel has no framework of reference in order to truly understand what Varian is going through. 

Sympathy is feeling sorry for someone. Empathy is understanding how a person feels. Rapunzel may be a sympathetic person but she’s not an empathetic one and there’s a difference between being ‘nice’ and being kind. The show presents to us a woman who needs to learn that difference. The problem is that she never does. 

This is actually a brilliant conflict and point of characterization. It’s taking what we already know about a character and expanding upon it to give us believable flaws that impact the story. I actually like this conflict. I like this portrayal. I initially preferred the series over the movie because of this. 

I want Rapunzel to be flawed. I want her flaws to to inform the plot. I want to like her as a character. But I can’t. Because the show never acknowledges these flaws, never has her grow as a person. She remains unempathetic and selfish till the end even as she gains more experience, and the show acts like she is justified in hurting others.  

This exchange is the quillivant of  a rich person who donates money to environmentalist causes trying to shame a poor child for daring to ‘waste water’ in order to take a bath, even while ignoring their own factories spewing pollutants into the local river. The show tries to claim that classism is okay so long as it’s perpetuated by the creator’s favs. 

Varian is in the Right   

First off he never claimed that he was only going to take one petal. Rapunzel just assumed that. Also, he’s right there is no difference. Once again Rapunzel has fabricated a distinction in her mind in order to have an excuse to sell her  dad. She only hesitates now because taking the whole thing means there’s more risk of getting caught and less possibility of weaseling out of punishment through deniability. 

Never mind that Frederic doesn’t own the flower anyways. He stole it from Gothel first, outside of his land’s borders. Never mind that him taking the flower actually causes harm to others while stealing it back does not. Never mind that breaking a law to save a human life is not only justifiable but preferable. Never mind that the king is essentially hoarding medicine from the populace, thereby breaking the social contract of a leader towards his people and becoming a despot instead.       

No, Varian hurt Rapunzel’s feelings so he’s evil don’t you see? He placed his needs above the main character’s wants and desires, ergo the series treats him as a villain. 

Look, I’m not saying that Varian is without fault nor that everything he does is justifiable. But the show (and certain fans) goes out of its way to demonize the character even when he’s doing what’s actually morally right. This isn’t the point when Varian falls to the darkside, that’s yet to come, but it is the point where the series starts to play favorites with its characters at the expense of teaching coherent lessons. 

Inconsistent Messages 

Yes, how dare he do the exact same thing as Pascal and Max did two episodes later. Don’t you know, he’s the villain; even though he actually has more reason to use the truth serum than they did the mood potion. 

The problem of centering so much of the conflict on Rapunzel’s personal feelings means that Rapunzel and the show has double standards for how characters are treated. Friends of Rapunzel gets free passes. Lack of friendship means you’re now the enemy and can’t be excused. Even though in real life that is what we call nepotism and an abuse of power.   

Authoritarianism Vs Consequentialism   

When you mention the word authoritarianism to someone they automatically picture in their head armed men in uniforms marching in the streets attacking innocent people on behalf of a dictator’s orders. Yet, that’s not what authoritarianism is. That’s fascism, which can spring forth from authoritarians gaining political power but it’s not the only manifestation of this philosophy.  

Authoritarianism is the belief system that the ‘authority’ is always right, even when wrong. An authoritarian will find any excuse to follow and believe in their chosen authority even when that authority has failed them or others.

The opposing philosophy here is consequentialism. That’s the belief that right and wrong are directly linked to consequence. To their minds something is morally wrong if the action has a bad outcome for others. 

To illustrate the difference let's look at a near universal rule. 

“Murder is wrong.” 

Now both the authoritarian and the consequentialist will normally agree with this. But the ‘why’ to them couldn’t be any more different. 

To an authoritarian ‘murder is wrong’ because the authority has deemed it so. That authority can be anything that the anthoritian has personally chosen; God, the government, their parents ect. It’s completely arbitrary and subject to change on a whim. The authoritarian lacks consistency and conviction and will often have multiple chosen authorities that will contradict one another. If one of those authorities came out in favor of murder then there’s a strong chance that the authoritarian will change their position or belief as oppose to denouncing their chosen leader.     

Meanwhile, ‘murder is wrong’ to the consequentialist because there are clear irreversibly bad consequences for doing it. It removes a life from the world. All possibilities for that person are now forever snuffed out. It hurts those left behind. ect. The consequentialist is consistent in their beliefs so long as the consequence remains the same. They can’t be swayed by mere orders. That’s not to say that consequentialism is incorruptible. A consequentialist can easily become a knight templar if they are forced to weigh consequences against each other. Then it becomes ‘murder is still wrong unless it achieves this arbitrary goal’.  

In truth, morality is a sliding scale for most people and you normally hold more than one ethical belief system. However history has proven that authoritarianism is the more often dangerous and corruptible philosophy as it relies heavily on peer pressure, groupthink, and yes, abuse. Most authortians don't come from healthy loving homes. Either they were abused or are abusers themselves. When conducting studies on authoritarianism psychologists and sociologists use questions about parenting in order to pinpoint who is and isn’t an authoritarian as most people aren’t going to just come right out and claim we should go back to feudalism and the divine right of kings. 

An out of control authoritarian is a bully with power. An out of control consequentialist is just a vigilante. 

Frederic and Varian are the representatives of the two sides of these opposing belief systems and the representatives of what happens when people with those belief systems become corrupt. By having the main character choose between the two of them and siding with the her father, the authoritarian, the show is now validating this philosophy. 

Breaking an unjust law shouldn’t be presented as a bad thing here. Blindly accepting Frederic’s rule shouldn’t be the end result of all this. Excusing his abusive behavior shouldn’t be the finale outcome of the story. There’s not a single thing that Frederic, and by extension Rapunzel, does that hasn’t been done by corrupt governments in the real world. Their reasons for doing so be damned. 

Given the current political landscape and the increasing push to give real life anthortirans more power, this was absolutely the wrong message to put into a children’s show. It’s not that children will grow up to become authoritarians themselves by just watching the show, but it can condition them to go along with authoritarian abuse if they are now familiar the excuses abusers use to validate their actions. Especially, if they are already trapped in an abusive environment and are being fed these excuses by their current abusers. 

I've already seen this toxic thought process played out by younger members of the fandom who are only just now forming their moral codes. “Accept what’ve you’ve been given.” “It’s okay, your parent (the authority) loves you and knows what’s best” “Hurting people is alright because they’ve been hurt you need to ofter up understanding” 

NO!

Theses aren’t good lessons. These are the lies fed to you by abusive people. And the show repeatedly validates, justifies, and excuses both abuse and political corruption. Whether the creators believe this philosophy or not, they just  approved of it anyways through their own incompetence.  

Varian has Every Reason to Not Trust Rapunzel

This the third time in three months that Rapunzel has backed out of helping him. All for increasingly flimsy reasons. She’s making a lot of promises here but not offering up any concrete solutions. Remember she’s not ready to confront her father yet, and neither of them know that she’s the sundrop herself. So what is her plan here? How is she suppose to recuse Quirin and prevent Varian from being unjustly punished if she can’t stand up to the one person who is responsible for causing these problems in the first place. 

Can you really blame Varian for going through with what he does here given how she has treated him thus far and would most likely continue to treat him? Yet that’s precisely what the show wants you to do because ‘stealing is wrong’ even though in this case it actually isn’t. 

This is Out of Character

Once again, both Cass and Eugene have no reason within the current narrative to be so hostile towards Varian, yet. They’re only doing so now to create bias in the viewer. For Eugene this is especially out of character. I mean we’ve already seen Cass place her ambitions of above others people’s needs both before and after this, but Eugene is constantly written as the heart of the show. He’s suppose to be the most empathetic and caring person in the group, and yet here he is trying to arrest an orphan who’s only stealing to survive. Sound familiar? He of all people should be the first to defend Varian not attack him.

Excuse You, Raps!

You know very well what he is. He’s a child. A lost, lonely, grieving, and desperate child who’s been let down by everyone who is responsible for him including yourself. But far be it for the show to actually point this out by stating it plainly and show you for the self centered ass you really are. 

Scenes Like This are Why Varian Should Have Been the Deuteragonist

His story maybe connected to Rapunzel’s but it doesn’t revolve around her. He has his own stakes and conflicts that happen to intersect or oppose with Raps given whatever point in the narrative we’re at. As such we gets scenes like this one in his lab where he is the sole focus and is pushing the story forward. No other character actually gets this. 

Eugene’s arc has little to no bearing on the overall plot and Cassandra’s solo scenes in season three do nothing to further push the story nor give new insights into her character, as her given goal and motivation is too dependent upon Rapunzel herself to be shown separately.  

Out of all the main characters, Varian’s conflict is the only one that holds enough tension to maintain a separate story line. He needs this focus in order to make sense of what's going on with the larger picture and to resolve his conflict in a satisfying manner. Had the the creators been smart enough to follow through with Varian’s story till the end instead of dumping it at the last minute in season two and hastily rewriting a half-arsed resolution it in season three, then we’ve could have gotten the Disney equivalent of a Zuko vs. Aang, Loki vs Thor, or even Duck vs Rue/Fakir arc. As is, we’re only left with the table scraps of several loosely connected stories none of which are very satisfying to watch. 

Conclusion

I still like this episode and Varian’s arc overall but I can't in good conscience call it well written knowing now where it all leads to. Nor can I in could good conscience recommend the show knowing the awful morals it touts. And that makes me angry. Angry that I was fooled into thinking that this show had depth and maturity. Angry that I ever once held this show up as being good. Angry that I invested myself into believing that this show would finally give me a decent Disney anti-villain that I could like. Angry that trusted the creators not to be raging arseholes who made poor creative decisions based off of ego and questionable ethics...

I started this marathon so that I could vent my feelings and gain some closure, while also opening up a frank discussion about how bad creative decisions can lead to bad lessons in children's media. This show has many of the same problems as a lot of current tv series do but all condensed down into one place and there are things to be learn from that.However after this series of reviews are over I doubt I’ll ever watch the show again. It’s honestly not worth the time. 

[poeticandors]

Come What May Part 1

Poe Dameron x F!Reader (Moulin Rouge!AUishhhh?)

Summary: You and Poe are sent undercover in a night club in order to gain information about the First Order and hope to recruit. But what begins to bloom as you and Poe continue to work closer throughout this mission? And, what happens when you happen to catch the eye of one of the most dangerous men?

Warnings this chapter: None really  

A/N: Here I am, with another fic that no one asked for. This is pretty much a Moulin Rouge type au so we’ll go with that from now on.

I do not own GIF!

“This outfit is horrible.”

“It doesn’t look that bad.”

“Speak for yourself, you basically get to wear regular clothes,” you snap at Poe. “I have to wear these damn dresses and… well these other outfits.” 

Poe watches as you twirl unintentionally in the dress you were wearing. He can tell just how uncomfortable you are in it— you’re used to wearing the standard clothes given to you by the Resistance, he’s sure. 

Still, he can’t help but admire the dress. The light blue flows down to your feet like a waterfall on Naboo. The intricate design was… well, beautiful really— the silver stitching along with divine crystals sewn into the dress that reflect any light shining on it.

No one would be able to keep their eyes off of you.

“We have to blend in,” Poe says, simply. “These various outfits will ensure that.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be undercover? Won’t I just… stick out?” 

You were anxious. Poe could see it in your body movements. The way you keep pinching the dress and how you shifted in the heels that were taller than you’re used to. 

This was your first mission with Poe. Your first mission ever. Poe understood why you were nervous, but you had skills that matched even those of the best— though few—Intelligence officers.

That’s why this mission was so important. Not only were you both sent to gain any information you could about the First Order— many of the officers frequented this red-light district and were now your main targets— you were also sent to try and recruit anyone that was deemed fit or were just simply tired of the First Order’s control. The Resistance couldn’t be picky, they needed everyone they could get.

And it made sense why you were paired up with Poe for this mission. Everyone else had their own duties, you were newly recruited and had the skill set necessary, and Poe was experienced. When Leia came up to you, you were apprehensive at first. Why would she ask you— a newly recruited officer— to join one of the most prominent members of the Resistance on a mission like this? 

Poe was kind, he had done well to make sure you were okay with everything that was happening. He made sure you were well briefed on what was going on and the type of place you would be at. He treated you as if he’d known you longer than you really had, even joking here and there while at the same time keeping a tough demeanor and treating you like any other soldier. He made sure to let you know he would be by your side throughout this whole ordeal.

Sighing distressed, you turn to Poe. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can.”

“But—“

“We’ll be fine,” Poe steps up to you. “The General wouldn’t have partnered us together if she didn’t think we could do this, Y/N.” 

Your gaze falls, and Poe places his hand on your shoulder, careful not to touch any visible skin not covered from your dress. The contact still makes you shiver.

“You know I’ll be there with you every step of the way. Even if I’m not physically there with you, I’ll be close by watching and making sure nothing happens to you, okay?” 

Looking back up at him, you nod. “...Okay.” 

“This is for the Resistance. Remember that.” 

“For the Resistance.” 

He removes his hand and takes a step back. “Alright, let’s go over this one more time. Tell me who you are.” 

“I’m Kyla Tille, been bounced from planet to planet. The last place I was at, they called me the... Sparkling Kyber and the Untouched One.”

Titles like that were good. While the location was given the name of a simple night spot or cabaret, courtesans were the prime entertainment. You would be now employed as the star courtesan, but your titles insured that no one would be able to touch you unless they gave the highest price. It made sure to keep you safe from others whose prying eyes were on you. All you had to do was keep guests flowing in— flashing smiles and even flirting here and there. Nothing more.

“Perfect. And I’m Tel Dara, the handsome man who has been assigned to guard you since our most recent home,” he grins. 

This pulls a laugh from you, and Poe can see your shoulders are now relaxed. 

“Just remember, don’t give them any reason not to be suspicious,” he says, more seriously. “‘Make sure you really trust someone before trying to send them my way.” 

“Got it.”

“We’ll get through this.”

++++++

The club was still somewhat filled with guests even during the day. A few humanoids and various other species huddled at the front and along the hall as you and Poe walked inside. The main room was dimly lit, and you could smell the smoke lingering in the air. Women in scandalous outfits were scattered around, flirting their way with those sat at the bar or booths, while server droids roamed the area from the bar, serving drinks around and gathering empty glasses. The music playing was soft, almost calming even for a hot spot club. 

But you knew that wouldn’t be the same case at night. 

Everyone glanced at you as you walked by, observing and scanning every inch of you. Your stomach churned, and you felt as if your chest was tightening— from panic or the tightness from the dress laced up on you, you didn’t know. All you wanted to do was hide away where no one could see you. But you made sure to hold your chin up high and take long, slow strides as you both made your way to the main office.

Poe knocks on the door, and you take in his appearance as you both wait. His hair was more tame, combed and slicked back, and he was dressed in a dark suit. He bore a more hardened look, and definitely did not look like the jaunty pilot you’ve come to know. 

The door opens and you glance up, seeing a man grinning down.

“There you are! Welcome, welcome,” he waves you both in. “Well, come in. We’ve been expecting you both.”

Poe places his hand on your back, gently guiding you in as you walk forward. The office was fairly big, a black metal desk with silver lining, shelves along the wall that had really… odd trinkets. Posters promoting the club with bright letters and pictures of all the girls were hung around the room as well— Come to the Crimson Club! Have all your dreams and desires come alive here! Drinks, music, and entertainment all night, every night!

It was definitely not a place you would have gone by choice. 

“Please, sit down.” 

Poe pulls the chair out for you, and you sit cross-legged as Poe stands right behind you. The man smooths his hair down, sitting opposite of you as he looks between you both.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Dorstar—“

“Oh, please don’t with the formalities,” he chortles. “Call me Boz.”

Poe nods. “Boz…” 

“Thank you, Boz,” you flash a dazzling smile. “I‘ll try not to disappoint you.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Boz’s eyes scan you, nodding in approval. “Gorgeous. So, it seems the stories I was given from your reference were right. A Sparkling Kyber. Isn’t that right, Kyla?”

Your gaze falls to the floor, feigning bashfulness.

“She definitely is just that,” Poe—Tel— walks next to you, and slips his fingers under your chin, lifting your view back up. “Fellas couldn’t get enough of her.”

Poe’s fingers graze your chin as he pulls them away, and you breathe out softly. Boz grins, pulling out his holopad. 

“Well, we all know what her ‘job’ here at the Crimson Club will be. Eye candy, another piece of entertainment. But you, my little kyber, will not be like the other girls.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Keep the customers interested, flirt a little, have a drink with them. Maybe get a little handsy if needed before moving them along to one of my other girls.” 

He leans back in his chair, turning to Poe. “And your job, Tel, is to stay close, but not too close. Only the one making the desired, highest payment will be allowed time here with our Untouched One. Make sure that no one does anything to harm our prized possession here.  Just like you did at your previous club.”

Possession. 

Nails digging into your fists, you try to keep a level head. This whole thing was disgusting, how could you have agreed to this? 

Exhaling slowly through your nose, you tried to calm yourself as to not show any hint of discomfort. This would be over soon, you had to remind yourself. 

It was for the Resistance, for the safety of your friends and newfound family.

“Let me remind you, Boz, that Kyla here is not an object.” 

The tone of Poe’s voice catches your attention. You’ve never heard him talk with that kind of spite before. Looking up at him, you see his jaw tighten as he stares down Boz. 

“Just make sure no one lays a hand on that pretty little head of hers. The previous escort failed to do that and, well, why do you think you’re both here now?” 

You both stay silent, as Boz stands up and claps his hands. “Now, I think we are all in agreement? Let’s show you to your new living stations.” 

Poe holds his hand out, and you place yours in his as you stand up, following Boz out of the office. The three of you make your way down the hallway to an elevator. You were told in the brief that there were no cameras up on the top floor. This was beneficial to both you and Poe, as you would be able to confer with each other about the events happening in the club. 

As the elevator makes its way up to the top floor, you feel Poe’s hand graze against yours— assuring you that you were almost in a safe space. 

This helps you relax a little, and you straighten as the doors slide open.

“This way,” Boz motions down the hallway. “Your room is what we call the Crimson Room. Only you, Tel, and myself are allowed here is that understood?”

“Yes, Boz.”

“And eventually when the lucky one who pays the desired amount of credits, they’ll be allowed up here too,” Boz flashes a smug grin before scanning his key card. 

The doors open with a whoosh and you step inside as you observe the room. It was a fairly large room; walls painted red, a large window with a view to the outside, and a ridiculously huge bed in the center. There was a dresser for you to place your belongings, as well as loveseat along the opposite wall. The small table for you to have your meals was there as well, already placed with bowls of various fruits as well as multiple champagnes, wines, and other liquor if wanted.

It was definitely the biggest room you’ve ever had. 

“Is this to your liking, dear?” Boz asks, watching as you walk towards the window. 

Staring outside, a small ache fills your chest as you realize you’ll be stuck here for an unknown amount of time. You see all of the people walking along the sidewalks, free to walk where they desired. Meanwhile, all you can do for the meantime is live through them every time you glance out the window.

“Kyla?” Poe’s voice pulls you from the window, and you give Boz a small smile.

“Yes, this is magnificent. Thank you.” 

Boz seems pleased with the answer, and smooths his dress shirt down. “Then I’ll let you get settled for tonight. The opening number will pay homage to you, and all you’ll have to do is walk out along the stage so everyone gets the pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you, Boz,” Poe walks him to the door, walking him out. 

Boz stops just before and turns to you, a devilish grin on his face. “Oh, and I’ll have the perfect dress sent up to you, my little kyber.”

He walks out, the doors closing behind him as Poe turns to you. He watches you exhale shakily, before moving to sit on the bed. 

“Good work,” Poe loosens his collar. “He seems to really like you.”

“Wonderful,” you scoff, pulling your heels off to rub your feet.

“Listen…” Poe walks over to you. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but if we keep two steps ahead, we can get through this quickly. As long as we’re in this together, okay?” 

You don’t respond, but Poe doesn't push. “I’m going to get our stuff, will you be okay alone?” 

“Yes,” you answer softly, glancing up at Poe.

He watches you for a moment, not quite believing you but nods anyways. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

You watch him leave, and when he is finally gone you fall back against the mattress. Eyes on the ceiling, you grab onto a pillow and hug it close, wishing you were back at the base in your small cot instead.

[carrottuan93]

Haven’t met you yet | Mark

Masterlist (3/4) | part1 - part2 - part4

Starring: MK x You

Tags: Mark Tuan, Fluff, Destiny, Waiting, Christmas, Bookworm, Nerd, Love, Fate

Total WC: 2194

You nearly puked your guts out to the sight of Jackson sticking to Eunhee and hugging her like forever has been robbed from them. You failed to confide to your best friend about what happened to you in the last 24 hours. So as not to spoil their couple time together, you chose to not disturb them and just mingle with all the kids in the sweet treats section. You love kids so much you play Santa and distributed macarons to each one of them. As expected, most of your close friends and guests brought their own boyfriends, if not, their own husbands and it was a nice show to witness, with sarcasm aside. Thanks to Jackson’s little cousins, they keep you entertained with their bubbly personality.

 “One with the kids, sure you’re missing the party in the adult section, no?” The sight of a guy clad in a formal white dress shirt, tucked in a black denim pants partnered with a classic chuck taylor, and a gray winter coat, welcomed your eyes. Guys who dress fashionably is such a head turner for you.

“Actually, they keep me company so I’m having fun to be honest.” You replied, feeling all the weird sensation cascading across your spine. You feel a bit nauseous whenever guys approach you. You don’t know if you even want to be with a guy right now, after your embarrassing experience last night.

 “My cousins here are a bunch of nuisance, you’ll get tired of them soon.” He picked one matcha macaron from the aisle and took a bite of it. You observed his expression. A smile crept up to his face and you caught sight of Eunhee in a distant, gossiping to Jackson that you’re having a moment with his cousin. You certainly know that they’re mentally pairing you up already and you are growing nervous about the plans that they are possibly plotting behind your back.

 “You like it? I bought them all the way from a café near my workplace that sells classic macarons just like the original ones from Paris.” He nodded in approval as you watch him took another piece, this time it’s strawberry. That’s your favorite flavor among the rest and you can really tell that the sweet tooth runs on Jackson’s bloodline by how his cousins, from the little chubby ones and the grown up beside you, munch on your favorite treat.

 “I never really eat macarons, but you introduced me into it. You deserve a recognition, uhm?” He lifted his hand for a handshake. He doesn’t know your name yet so you took his hand and introduced yourself right away.

 “It’s Y/n, Eunhee’s best friend. Thank you for the recognition by the way. Well, you come here with a date?” You’re mentally tiptoeing above the thin ice. It’s better to assume that this cute guy over here is already taken, I mean with his looks, he's totally a charmer, you thought to yourself.

 “I didn’t bring anyone with me, so I assume you also come along on your own, no?” Green light. Okay, you need to calm down. This isn’t like any of your past blind dates but first meetups are usually nerve wracking and scary so you played the innocent heroine that you are and chose to just go with the flow seeing how Eunhee and Jackson are staring at you maliciously from Mark’s back, you know they were able to receive the death notes you are sending them via telepathy.

 “That explains it.” It’s not that you had a thing with cute guys, but maybe you just discovered it right now. You can tell he’s a decent one, a cool and random Asian-American import from the west and maybe if you’re an ice cream, you already turned into liquid by the way he stares at you.

 “I don’t know anything about you yet, but would you trust a complete stranger to celebrate your Christmas eve with? If you’re up for it, we’ll leave this party right away because I can tell that you’re going to get sick from all these couples outnumbering us.” Have you been a good girl this year? You didn’t include this guy on your Christmas list but Santa rewarded you without even asking for it.

 “I’m putting my trust on you knowing that Jackson is a good guy so does his cousin. I'll sue him and he’ll answer for the damages and fines in case you failed to bring me back in good shape.” You both let out a hefty chuckle earning glares from your best friend and her boyfriend. You’ve decided to pursue your spontaneous trip with Mark and the next thing you know you’re already closing the front door upon your exit even before the two of them could react to your great and grand escape.

  ----

  He took you on a ride away from the busy and bustling streets of Seoul. You're thrilled to find out that he actually brought you to Namsan Tower, the highest peak in the city. You're awed expression cannot suffice the picturesque panoramic scenery of Seoul unfolding in front of your very eyes when you entered the observatory on the top most floor. You were unable to talk all of a sudden and your heart is brimming with unexplained strings of emotion as you kept on taking pictures and videos of the breathtaking place that sent your eyes into a food coma.

 "I only went to N tower once, or maybe twice but that was during the day and I have no idea that this is how it looks at night. It's a miss, nobody will be able to witness this scene on a Christmas eve the way we're seeing it right now." You forgot about your shameful episodes of last night's happenings and your worries disappeared in just an instant.

 "I kind of paid for tonight's reservation when I arrived here in Korea a week ago, with the hopes of spending Christmas only to myself. Consider yourself lucky, you've managed to join me on this one-time event. Heck, the price I paid for is totally worth it. Come here and try this." He urged you to look on the telescope, and to your surprise, you're taking in every aspect of the city in a bird's eye perspective. Everything you look at is really stunning. Like you never really imagined that perfection exists for real until tonight and you're experiencing it with a random guy whom you've only met an hour ago. Your eyes met his and you wished you aren't redder than a rotten tomato for looking like a lost deer caught on a headlight.

 "The view here is really pretty.” He gave you a smile, too charming for your own consumption.

“It really is.” He’s even prettier than the view. You can only sense your guy-o-meter raising for Mark. Good lord, is this a sign? Your mind is now ready to tick the ideal guy boxes on your list.

 “We shouldn't keep this New York style pizza from waiting while it is hot.” He chuckled, like the cute kid that he is. There is something with his unique laugh that you really don’t mind hearing at all. Is he older than me? Please, I don’t want to date someone younger than me.

 “Okay, sure kid.” You followed him as he sat on the ground in a dimly lit room radiating a romantic atmosphere under the starry and chilly skies of Seoul. This is not a date, but a friendly escape out of boredom planned by two single hearts on a Christmas eve. As if you’re two partners in crime, sitting on one of the highest skyscrapers in town, while sharing a box of pizza. It’s just that you aren’t Bonnie and neither he is your Clyde but you're loving the idea of him as someone whom you can rely on.

 “I’m older than you, silly.” The sight of a wine bottle behind him caught your attention and wondered where it came from. He noticed you eyeing the prize so he did the honor and poured you a glass of wine while you’re devouring your slice of pizza. You never imagined that eating pizza is too romantic and one for the books.

 “Any proof that you’re actually above 25? Cause you really look young. With that face, you can qualify for a student discount on public transports and still save money for your commute.” You want to make sure that he’s at least 5 years older than you. You prefer dating someone older than you because they always say that a guy's maturity is a year delayed for his age.

 “Trust me, I just know. I’m old enough to buy a house and enter into casinos, I guess.” He gave you a wink and you felt a gush of strong wind blew your senses away. He’s totally a Romeo and you took a swig of wine while observing him secretly.

 “So you’re a gambler? I might have been spending my time with some kind of a mafia leader and still have no clue about it.” He’s laughing at it again. I might have a talent with making cute guys laugh and that’s an asset I only discovered right now.

 “What, no! But my dad is a big spender in casinos. My duty is to look out for him and take him home before he could even bet our fortune with his leisure. I could always hear him say ‘It has gotta be all or nothing’. He’s born for taking risks and maybe I got that gene from him that’s why.” He stretched his legs and sat like he’s on a photoshoot. He’s not a model but he can beat the professional ones even without the need for screening.

 “What’s the biggest risk you’ve taken in your life so far?” You folded your legs as you watch him wonder with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He poured a glass for himself and you noticed that he used the same glass that you drink on.

 “I believe we’re taking risks everyday in our lives. The only difference is the distance of our leap towards taking or not taking chances at all. Like when you’re playing a game, everything starts with equal opportunities. It’s a race to the witch mountain. The first one to gamble takes it all. You gotta be the predator of every tournament and you gotta be the last one standing in a survival of the fittest. If you’re brave enough to take the earliest start, you can use that advantage to ace your end game. It’s all about timing and investing. Win or lose streak. There is no such thing as a grey area when it comes to taking risks. You don’t get to tie with anybody. Either you’ll win or lose. You just have to trust your instincts and roll your dice like everyday is your last day on earth. If I go for something, I go all in. No half-baked decisions. Because my father taught me that risks equates to rewards and I’m all up for the extremes of both worlds. That’s the one thing I’m best at. I know how to play the game nice and fair because I know how to measure the corners of a square and even the distance around the circle which is not visible to the naked eye. After all, he considers me as his lucky charm. That explains my presence to his endless casino nights. And he hardly ever loses if I’m with him. Sure, Pops are probably waiting for me at our doorstep in LA right now. Too bad, his son is on the other side of the world, taking his own risk of a lifetime.” You left with no words to say. He’s too deep, a food for the soul. Guys like him are the ones that can be displayed in museums. He’s a delicate art and nobody should be allowed to touch him but the curator. And you’d want to take that role.

 “What if you lose? If you go all in and you lose everything all at once? Have you experienced it already?” you asked, admiring the tiny mole sitting under his left eye. You decided to take your second glass of wine.

 “The best thing about losing is that you’ve tried. I don’t take failures as an excuse for not trying again and taking another risk the next day. If I lose, so what? That only means you’re brave because you grow stronger with every fall that you take. Like a bamboo tree, it only bends but it doesn’t break. Life is all about swimming against the current of uncertainties and finding yourself floating on top of your insecurities.” As if he’s summarizing all the lessons in life, you’d always want to go for the front seat. He’s a walking self-help book, and maybe Mark Manson’s book of ‘the subtle art of not giving a fuck’ would have to sit longer in my shelf for the meantime. I got a risk-taker author Mark, right here and I got nothing to worry about.

[goldrun]

An unexpected inquiry: foolish notion

Read part 1 here

A/N: Hey guys! It took me more than three weeks to write this part, mainly because I wasn’t feeling it at all. But when I started writing, a lot of ideas popped up in my head and it came naturally (mostly). So I hope you’ll enjoy this part!!

@nerdbirdsworld​ @lilbabyhoneypot​ @dreams-of-wander​ @bluemirkwood​ @meilovesanime​ @downwiththedoorpoole​ @theofficialwitch​ @katewatso​ @c-s-stars​

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Word count: 3484

It was almost 8 o'clock. You were in the flower shop back in the stockroom pretending to count the number of daffodils for the day after.

You couldn't set your mind to it. You still weren't able to fathom what happened yesterday. A prince asked you to court you. You. And you refused. Well, not quite, you sort of decided to give him a chance. It also felt kind of foolish. When you meet your One you just know it, and he definitely didn't felt like yours. And this kind of connection was more important to you than marrying some prince. You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt 'something', even though you declared it as negligible. Any other young dam would've said yes immediately. But you weren’t any other dam.

The dress you were wearing was a simple one, made of a periwinkle colored smooth silk and reached above your ankles. The sleeves came just over your elbows and they had lace hanging on the ends. The corset with lilac colored flowers sewn upon it was laced at the backside, just a small wink to your job. It wasn't overdone, and you felt beautiful. You even felt like you put a little too much effort for someone you didn't even care about, you chuckled to yourself, who are you kidding, of course you cared. Even felt nervous. Your (H/C) hair was partly braided on the front, with the rest of your hair hanging loose. Alava braided it. All decorated with small golden beads you inherited from your father and mother, as well as the dress you were wearing. It was worn by your mother and her mother before her. Your family wasn’t wealthy and with you being the only one left, this was the way you could honor them every time you had a special occasion. Wait, was this a special occasion? You shook your head and tried not to think about it too much.

Back in the stockroom you counted about sixty daffodils but you weren’t sure of the number, since you started counting again for about three or four times.

Suddenly the doorbell jangled and you heard footsteps on the wooden oak floor. Your heart skipped a beat. “Y/N?” You heard a male voice calling. You sighed in relief, it wasn’t a stupid joke between him and his brother, a thought that slipped through your head at night. Sharing one last glance in the small hand mirror you kept in a drawer for when you ever needed it, never expecting that it would ever be needed for a situation like this. Your legs almost forgot how to walk when you made your way to the main room of the shop, and you took a deep breath before entering.

There he stood. All handsome and neatly dressed. You looked directly into his blue eyes.

“Hi.” You gasped, feeling as if your feet weren't even touching the ground.

A smile appeared on his lips as he approached you closer. Oh no, that dimple again, you thought.

“Hi.” He marvelled as he took you in. "You look beautiful.” He said with hushed tone.

You smiled timidly. "You’re very kind, thank you.” You brushed your dress.

The two of you staring at each other for a moment. None of you really knowing what to say.

He wore a brown leather coat with beige colored fur on the fronts. A belt in the same color as his coat with golden buckles closed it all together.

“You look handsome, Prince Fili.” You broke the silence, instantly regretting what you said. Was it even appropriate?

He blushed a little. “Thank you.” He smiled. “And please, just call me Fili.” He shrugged

You beamed. “Very well, Fili.”

"I-I brought you a gift." He stammered and reached with his hand somewhere in his coat. He handed you a small black box and when you opened it your mouth fell open. It was a small brooch and recognized it as a lily. The flower was white and covered it in small crystals and fit right in the palm of your hand. "Thank you, it's beautiful but i can't accept this." Still mesmerized by the gesture.

Fili was determined. "No, it's a gift, from me to you."

“I don’t know what to say...Again, thank you.” You stammered. You pinned the brooch down on your chest.

“It looks good on you.” Fili approved.

You gushed. “It’s beautiful, I love it.”

“So, where are you taking me?” You asked with a curious tone.

“I’m taking you to a small tavern called ‘The Joyful Goat’ which is a short walk from here.” He grinned.

“A tavern?” You asked hesitantly. It didn’t sound quite pleasing to your ears.

“Don’t worry, it’s a very neat one.” He assured.

The two of you walked towards the tavern. Chit-chatting along the way. You told him about your family, and how the flower shop was owned by your grandparents. He told about his family as well, and his life in the royal halls, which you were interested to hear about.

When you reached the tavern you noticed a sign with a goat on it.

“Here it is!” He praised as he pulled the door and let you in first.

It was rather a tiny tavern, but just as he said, it was very neat. A friendly old dwarf greeted you and he seemed to know your companion.

Fili hugged the dwarf. “Hoìn! How are you?” Fili asked enthusiastically.

“Prince Fili.” He said loudly. “Nice to see you around! How is your mother?” Hoìn wondered. “She’s doing well, she said to send you her regards.” Fili said sincere.

“That’s good to hear.” Hoìn said. “And please send her our greetings.”

“I will!” Fili said. “Do you have a table for two?” He questioned.

“Excuse me, I was wandering off, please follow me!” As he gestured to follow him.

You sat down at the dark brown mahogany table, at the opposite of Fili. You took a quick look around, a fire was crackling and a few dwarfs sat at the bar. You enjoyed the ambiance as your eyes turned back onto your company. Fili even looked even more good-looking in this warm scenery. You noticed his warm blond hair and his braided moustache in the same hue. You tried to study his face as unnoticable as possible but you were ripped out of your thoughts abruptly.

“Myla!” Hoìn yelled as an older female dwarf appeared, supposedly his wife. “Can you give these two lovebirds our best wine and special stew?”

“Of course!” She said lighthearted.

“Oh but we’re not together.” You blurted and your eyes turned big.

“Yet.” Fili said mischievously.

You rolled your eyes at him, Mahal, what were you getting yourself into?

“Very well then!” He reported and he rushed off.

You sat down and the burning question in your head was trying to get out.

“Can I ask you something?” You interrogated.

“Of course.”

“Do you know about the rumors that are being told about you and your brother?”

“I assume you mean the wretched ones, so yes, I do know about them.”

“Are they true?” You squinted your eyes.

Fili shook his head. “I promise you, it’s not true."

You sighed in relief but not fully convinced. "I have no idea how these stories came into the world." He continued. "Kili was the most reckless one of us two, and I can’t say I’ve never done anything that Mahal wouldn’t approve of...” Fili admitted. “But I never woke up with a different girl in my bed every morning and I’m most definitely not seeing you as an easy catch.”

You smiled to yourself and looked down. “It would be surprising if you did.”

“Alright. Can I ask YOU question?” He queried while he gazed at you.

You leaned forward on the table. "Go for it.” you challenged him.

“Look, i'm not proud of the way how I approached you yesterday and I'm surprised you didn't ran away. You're definitely not feeling the same as i do, so, why waisting your time with me?”

"I'm going to be honest with you, i wanted to see who you really are. I thought you were different, nothing more than that." You confessed.

"Because of these stories?" He questioned as you nodded slowly.

"You said you thought I was different. So what do you think of me now?" Fili crook his brow and grinned.

"Let's not get ahead of yourself.” You raised your brows and leaned backwards.

“What a pleasant sight!” Hoìn marvelled when he walked by your table. “You two remind me just of his father and mother, they came here by a lot ya know.” You shared a short look with Fili. “Aye, this lad is a keeper!” He concluded with a big smile to you as he walked away to another table. You could do nothing but laugh, and felt a flutter in your chest and you noticed Fili's cheeks colored red.

“So you are more than familiar with this place.” You hinted.

“My father used to take my mother here when he was still alive.” Fili recalled. "So to me, this has been always a special place. Kili and I come here by a lot.”

“That’s such a sweet story.” You sympathized.

“Next time you should meet my brother, you would love him. If there’s going to be a next time of course.”

“I would love to meet him. And we shall see about that next time.” You teased. Fili chuckled.

Myla walked by with the wine and stew and placed it in front of you."Here you go dears!" She said sweetly.

“Thank you!” You both said in unison.

You both were enjoying the meal. Sharing a laugh and anecdotes about one another.

When you both were done you thanked Hoìn and Myla and left ‘The Joyful Goat’.

Fili suggested to walk you home, which you tried to refuse kindly. But Fili insisted.

You arrived at your home which had three steps in front of the front door, and while you stood on the highest step, Fili stood on the ground. You found your key and put it in the lock as you turned around to face him.

"Well, surprisingly you are not that terrible as I thought you'd be." You joked which he answered with a chuckle. "I had fun, and thank you for taking me out." You acknowledged.

"You really speak your mind don't you?" Fili laughed. "But, I had fun too."

You chortled softly. "Goodnight Fili". Shared one last glance and turned around to step inside your house.

“Wait!" Your head turned around from the sound of his voice. "When can I see you again?” He asked with a questioning gaze, and your heart melted a little.

“Well, let’s see about that.” You winked and closed the door behind you. Fili stood there for Mahal knows how long, maybe hours, debating if this was a yes or a no.

—————————

It’s been a few days since you last saw Fili. You really let him baffled, not giving him any closure. You told Alava about it, and she couldn’t believe you let him go.

Today you were busy helping a client who wanted a bouquet of roses and white lilies when you saw a familiar face entering your shop.

You looked up at him, smiling as if you knew he was up to something. The client gave you your coins and stepped away to leave the shop which was almost empty now.

“So, here we meet again.” You tittered, trying not to seem too eager while bundling a bunch of red lilies with a white ribbon.

“Yes, indeed we do.” He smirked he said as he walked towards you. “And you’re not alone I see.” You noticed as you looked curiously behind him.

“Yes, Y/N, this is my brother Kili.” You immediately recognized him as he stepped closer to you. “Nice to meet you Y/N!” He said as you shook his hand. “Likewise Kili!” Sure he was handsome just like his brother, but with a much more darker complexion. You never got the chance to study his face from up close. This was the cheeky one.

“So, this is the girl that you’ve been talking about!” Kili said amused." You chortled, "I hope i am!"

“I always wanted to meet the person who rejected my brother!” Kili joked. Fili punched him on the back and you could only laugh at the brotherly chemistry.

“Oh I did not exactly reject him.” You folded your arms and looked at the two brothers. “I just kept things open.”

“And can you close it now?” Fili said amused.

“I’m not closing anything right now.” You provoked.

"Oh Fee." Kili said. "I hate to break this intimate moment but we have to go now, you know how Dwalin thinks about being late for sparring time."

"Yes of course, let's go. Y/N I'll see you around, I hope." Sharing one last gaze with you and the two brothers walked towards te front door. Your eyes crinkled. “I hope so too.” Just before Fili closed the door he looked at you one last time, while you pretended no to see him. Trying to keep yourself occupied with the next bundle of lillies you could not resist to peek when he closed the door behind him.

Months have gone by, and Fili visited you almost every day. You even found yourself in the royal halls at times, and you were mesmerized every time you entered. Talking and blabbering about everything. Every time you saw him you became more and more fond of him. You could say he really was your friend, as well as Kili. Fili seemed to have let go of the whole 'One' thing and accepted the fact that you would never be a couple. That still didn’t mean he wasn't into you, sometimes annoyed by his ambiguous comments.

Today you were sitting in an open field with Kili. A place you visited ever since you were little. While sitting underneath a big oak tree you felt a warm breeze running over your skin.

“Where’s Fili?” You wondered.

“He had some important business to do with our Uncle, heir stuff probably.” Kili answered.

“Y/N I was wondering, how exactly did you meet Fili?” Kili wondered while he was lying down next to you, chewing on a piece of grass.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Wait, hasn’t he told you about it?” You mouthed.

Kili placed his arms underneath his head. “He didn’t tell me much about it, just that you two bumped into each other on the street.”

“What! He really told you that?” You chanted and sat right up.

“What happened then?” Kili asked, leaning on his elbows.

“Well, I was working in my shop just like every other day and suddenly he stood right in front of me asking me to court him!” You uttered.

Kili’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking right?” You shook your head while chuckling and he bursted out in laughter. The loudest you’ve ever heard. Tears welled up in his eyes. You could do nothing but join the laughter.

“Even I would never do something like that!” He exclaimed while drying his eyes. Kili couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh Mahal, so this idiot really likes you."

"So it appears." You nodded. “But I’m glad I went out with him even though the feelings weren’t exactly mutual, because now I have two amazing friends.”

“Yes I’m glad you did.” Kili confirmed, and you two lay down again, staring at the sun.

"Kee?"

"Mhmm?"

"About what I just told you, please don't let it go hard on him."

"Don't worry about it." Kili grinned. "I will."

You slapped him on his chest as your laughter followed.

“What’s so funny?” You heard footsteps on the tall grass, you recognized the voice in an instant when the person sat down next to you.

“Oh nothing Fee.” Kili tried to say trying to hold in his laughter. “Just thought about that time when you asked Y/N to court you when you never even met her once!” Kili joked and Fili’s cheeks turned crimson.

“I’m sorry Fee, I had to tell him.” You tittered.

“Alright alright, that happened ages ago!” Fili tried to brush it off.

The three of you lay down again, with Fili in the middle.

“So where have you been all day?” You asked curiously while you lay on your side, leaning your head on your hand.

“Yeah what have you been doing?” Kili repeated as he furrowed his eyebrows.

Fili looked at you, squinting his eyes from the sun. “Why so nosey?”

You shrugged. You knew why.

“Well, since Thorin complained about me not having a wife yet, he set up a meeting with a princess, a human nonetheless.”

“And? How did it go?” You spoke slightly bitter. You didn’t even notice the jealous tendency in your chest.

“Thorin was enthusiastic, but only for the sake of the Blue Mountains, not for love. She was beautiful, intelligent and thoughtful.” He said while staring at the sky. The envious sting in your chest became more painful.

“But?” You questioned and raised a brow.

“She wasn’t you.” He answered, gazing into your eyes. You smiled tender.

You didn’t really know where to look while trying to think of something witty to say, but nothing came to your mind.

“I honestly don’t understand why you two are not together.” Kili interrupted, you almost forget he was there too.

You both sighed, staring to the blue sky. "Excuse me, I have to go." Fili said as he stood up and walked away on the grass towards his pony. "Fee! Where are you going?" Kili yelled but Fili didn't answer. He jumped on his pony and rode away as you both watched him from afar.

That night you were laying in bed and you couldn't sleep. Your mind were like one giant cobweb of thoughts. Was he angry with you? The thought of him being with someone else terrified you. He was the only one who ever understood your sarcasm. You also thought about that time when he helped a kid when he fell down and scraped his knee. Or that time when you walked upon him shirtless when you visited him in the forges last week.

Or how is moustache moves when he speaks. And that dimple. Suddenly you loved everything about him and every little thing he did seemed more and more attractive.

In an instant you sat right up in your bed. And one main thought shot through your head. You loved him. "I love him." You repeated but speaking out loud this time. "I must tell him now."

So you kicked away your sheets, put on your easiest shoes put on your olive green cloak, threw open your front door. And there Fili stood, with his fist in the air from an attempt to knock. Was he feeling something too or was this a coincidence?

"I love you Fili." You grabbed his face and gazed in his eyes. "I already have from the start but I was too blind to see it." You gently intoned.

You gave him no chance to answer as you placed your lips on his. He answered your kiss and buried his hands in your hair.

You pulled back and placed your forehead to his.

“You are my One, you’ve always been.” You confessed. He brushed his thumb over your lower lip.

“I love you too Y/N.” He told you. “So would this be an appropriate time for me to ask to put a courting braid in your hair?”

You chuckled. “Yes, you may now.” You nodded as you bit your lower lip. “Come inside.” You said softly.

He followed you inside and closed the door behind him. Standing in your small living room, smiling as you turned around with your back towards him. He fiddled with your hair as he put a small bead at the end of the braid. You turned around to face him again and placed your arms around his neck as he put his arms around your middle.

“For someone who always knows what she wants, you were pretty oblivious." Fili spoke with a soft voice. "When did you realize?" He questioned.

"Five minutes ago." You laughed. He looked approving."Well, I'm glad you did."

"Let's go tell my uncle." He hummed.

You giggled. "It's past midnight."

"Wait, let's tell him tommorow." Fili agreed.

"I hope he won't kill you."

"He won't." He said with a smirk as he kissed you once more.

[geekgirles]

I Was Made For Loving You

Well, my dear @foxlanaeshrek​, as we say around here: lo prometido es deuda. This one-shot is based on our Rock! Branch AU. To be more specific, on your headcanon that Rock! Branch would sing rock ballads to Poppy. Hope you like it!

Branch had always known he was unusual for a Rock troll. 

 Despite his dexterity playing the most hardcore tunes with his electric guitar, he would often find himself playing more subdued and forlorn melodies. Sometimes even ballads that didn’t sound all that rock-n’-roll-ish. 

Even with his stern or even aggressive temper and his sarcastic mouth, always ready to deliver some snarky comments to whoever pushed his buttons more than what was medically recommended (basically, because most patients the doctors from Volcano Rock City tended to were usually sent there for messing with Branch in the first place), he had an uncanny ability for translating his thoughts in the form of the most beautiful verses. 

 Ugh, poetry. What a corny thing to do. If the other Rock trolls ever found out, he would never hear the end of it.

 There was also his lone wolf persona. One of the main reasons he’d been chosen as Queen Barb’s Captain, in fact. He was known for being level-headed, precise, infallible, independent, never needing anyone but himself or anything but his queen’s approval. He always got the job done. Always. And yet, he was so touch-deprived he could barely process what was happening when he received physical affection.

 Yes, he was unusual for a Rock Troll. But he’d never thought he’d be unusual enough to fall in love with a Pop troll. The Queen of the Pop trolls, of all people!

 Although, on second thought… He maybe should’ve seen it coming. 

 To make things even more unusual, Poppy was actually the only mission he had ever failed at fulfilling.

 He was supposed to send her people Queen Barb’s message, but just as he was about to, he saw her. The moment he laid eyes on her he was convinced he’d died and gone to Heaven, for only an angel could ever be good enough to compare itself to her. That voice, that laugh, those eyes, that smile! Any artistic masterpiece and its beauty paled in comparison to hers.

 And then is when he realised he’d been drooling like a hormonal teenager over the freaking Queen of the Pop trolls. Wait to go…

After finally delivering the message, he tried convincing himself that if meant nothing. He just happened to think the pink troll was hot, that’s all. It wasn’t like his heart would then threaten to burst out of his chest just at the mere thought of her, let alone having her near.

Except it sorta… kinda… low-key… high-key… did. It definitely did.

He was such a mess around her that he’d gone and made the greatest, most embarrassing mistake of his life; he’d recited poetry to her! He, a hardened Rock troll and second-in-command of the troll responsible for her imprisonment, had recited poetry to her, a happy-go-lucky queen who proved herself to be the biggest threat to their plan. And it that weren’t mortifying enough, the poetry happened to be about her. Because, why not? Since he was already digging his own grave, might as well engrave the words in his tombstone…

When he finally realised what he’d done he expected to be mocked. To be looked at as if he were completely insane (he probably was, anyway). To be laughed at… What he didn’t expect, though, was to be stared at with such single-minded devotion by a wide-eyed, blushing pink queen.

Her mesmerised voice somehow managed to bewitch and simultaneously free him from his trance, “Wow… Branch, t-that was… That was beautiful!” she praised, “No one’s ever said anything like that about me. Thank you, I also love your eyes.”

The smile on her face as she uttered those words was enough for him to realise his loyalty now laid beside her. And he’d be damned if he ever let anything bad happen to her.

Although, a shameful part of him had to admit he’d been drooling over how smothering hot she looked as a Rock troll. But nobody had to know about that.

And now that the trolls were finally united, regardless of the kind of music they worshipped, he was lucky enough to have won the Pop queen’s heart. He just needed to find a way to show how aware of his luck he was.

Luckily, he knew just the perfect thing. 

………

 Poppy still couldn’t believe she was dating a Rock troll. And what a Rock troll he was! Branch was everything she could’ve ever hoped for in a mate; he was smart, he was reliable, he was down-to-earth (something hard to find amongst her subjects), he had the most incredible voice! And he was, oh, so handsome. So, so handsome. She’d caught herself shamelessly devouring him with her gaze more than once. Her eyes would wander around his naked chest, completely mesmerised by his physique. Or her hands would try and touch that mullet of his, in an attempt to pull strands of hair because she could barely control herself!

But if anyone noticed and asked about it, it was always the same answer, “Oh, I just thought he had some fuzz in his hair, that’s all”, or, “Oh, I was just looking at your tattoo! I didn’t notice that one before…”

But most importantly, she loved the way he treated her. She never would have expected a Rock troll to be so caring, so attentive. But alas, that was Branch with her. And she loved every second they spent together.

Which was all the more reason to be excited about their date tonight!

The night before Debbie delivered a letter from him to her, asking to meet him at one of the clearings of Troll Village the following night. He said there was something he wanted to show her.

So there she was, dressed in a simple violet dress with pink hearts adorning the hem and a tiara to match. She could already feel her heart beating faster the moment their gazes met. She ran to him, knowing he would catch her in his open arms.

“Branch!” she greeted him as she nuzzled his cheek with his own, enjoying the embrace he had her in.

“Poppy”, he chuckled in response.

“It’s so great to see you! How’ve you been these past week?” Has it been a week already since she saw him last? How did she manage to survive that long?

“It’s been fine”, he shrugged before leaning in closer so he could whisper into her ear, “I missed the presence of the only ray of sunshine I need in my life, though.”

Touched by his beautiful words, she put a heart on her chest before pecking his cheek. He was so romantic!

 “So! What did you want to show me?”

 “Actually,” he started as he guided her to a picnic mat that was already set, “I think we should eat first and leave the best part for the end.” He winked at her, “Wouldn’t want to work on an empty stomach!”

 She just giggled before she complied, sitting down next to him.

 Their little night picnic was simply delightful. They spent hours doing nothing but eating, sometimes feeding each other; flirting, laughing, and generally having a good time. Finally, just when the moon was highest in the sky and the lighting was just right, Branch took out his guitar from his hair and began to play. After a few notes, he soon accompanied the melody with his voice.

Tonight I want to give it all to you

In the darkness There's so much I want to do And tonight I want to lay it at your feet 'Cause girl, I was made for you And girl, you were made for me

 Poppy certainly didn’t know what to do, she was still getting used to the Rock trolls’ customs and norms, not to mention their music. So she wasn’t sure how to interpret Branch’s song. But the more she listened to the lyrics, the more she could understand it was somehow… Beautiful. Touching even. 

I was made for lovin' you baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you baby Can you get enough of me

Despite his cool exterior, Branch was freaking out inside. What if Poppy was weirded out by his choice of song? What if she didn’t like it? He meant every word of it as he was composing it, his feelings for Poppy resurfacing at full force as he wrote down the words. But she was still a Pop troll, and their views on romance could be even more different than their views on music. He just hoped the song was getting through to her.

Tonight I want to see it in your eyes Feel the magic There's something that drives me wild And tonight we're gonna make it all come true 'Cause girl, you were made for me And girl I was made for you

As Branch kept singing, Poppy couldn’t help but grin widely at him. This song spoke about them! About how he truly felt about their relationship! Her boyfriend was really too wonderful for words. Without even realising it, as if under a spell, she slowly rose from her seat, getting closer to him with every step. 

I was made for lovin' you baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you baby Can you get enough of me

The moment he saw the smile on her face he knew he would do anything to see that expression on her face until his last day. She truly was too enchanting for words. But he was going to try and express how he felt through this song. Although he, himself, could barely keep the dopey smile off his face when she started getting closer to him. And the moment she started singing along? Hair, he was a goner.

I was made for lovin' you baby You were made for lovin' me And I can give it all to you baby Can you give it all to me

Oh, can't get enough, oh, oh I can't get enough, oh, oh I can't get enough Yeah, ha

I was made for lovin' you baby You were made for lovin' me

When the song finally ended and they looked into each other’s eyes they knew nothing needed to be said. As they leaned closer together, they sealed their feelings for each other with a kiss. They were truly made for loving each other.

[protosspals]

The ABCs of Starcraft: A is for Alarak and Artanis

((My friend and I have come up with a prompt list for the full alphabet and will be writing one shots for each letter. Today’s prompt is for the letter A and I chose the dearest Highlord Alarak and Hierarch Artanis together.)) 

The night was dark and stormy which was the type of night Alarak preferred. The flashes of lighting through the purple mist of Terrazine that covered his planet at this time was soothing to him. This was where he had been born and where he had fought his way up using wits and claw to claim his right to rule. It was all his now, yet... 

“When is Artanis supposed to arrive Martal? Should he not have been here by now? Perhaps I should devise a punishment for his lateness. It’s not proper to keep your Highlord waiting after all.” He grumbled, his mood as volatile as the storm raging around them. 

“Hierarch Artanis and his fleet have arrived Highlord. They are orbiting the planet now and waiting for the storm to pass so they might have a safer landing.” Martal chirped in his robotic tone as he hovered nearby his leader prepared to do any task demanded of him.  “Of course he would fear the storm, the Khalai are a bunch of cowards. By this point, he might as well just tuck tail and return home to Aiur.” He said returning from where he had been pacing in the middle of his room to look out the window again. 

“Shall I send word to them to leave? Or would you rather I go and retrieve the Hierarch for you personally my Highlord?” Martal asked hs sensor seeming to shine more brightly with the idea of kidnapping the Hierarch from under the watch his guards surely had in him. Alarak had to admit, the thought of Artanis’ look of outrage in such an event and the chaos it would cause was tempting. 

“No. Not this time. Send Ji’nara to... politely escort the Hierarch to our meeting place. Specify to her to let Artanis know that if a bit of thunder is going to keep him away, he might as well leave for there will be nothing here for him any longer. The festival ends with daybreak anyway.” He finally said and with his mind made up, he left the room to make his way to the designated location they had discussed for this event. 

The Festival of the Blood Rose was an annual event for the Tal’darim. Once per Slayn’s solar orbit (a time which took half of what it would be an Earth year) there would be a break in the Chain of Ascension. For that one night, movement up and down the chain was untethered by your current position. It allowed those who were young and strong to gain positions as Ascendants without wanton murder of all those above them. It also was the night of marriages. 

In Tal’darim tradition, they did not ask for marriage, they took the right. In the past that had lead to positions of unhappiness, one Alarak knew well as his own mother had been claimed by a cruel man she did not love due to her beauty. Alarak had changed things. Now the claim could be challenged, by both the one being claimed or one that agreed to fight in their stead. This allowed the tradition to continue in a way his people were used to, but gave those without as much power the opportunity to protect themselves through appointing someone stronger to fight the claim for them. It wasn’t perfect, but he had more plans to implement in the future to further protect those who didn’t want the marriage from being forced into it. 

However, tonight, that was not what was important to him. Tonight, the most important thing was that Artanis was going to be participating in the celebrations. He might have been a bit vague about things, but he knew Artanis would forgive him or it... eventually. Alarak was going to take what he wanted just as he always had. Khalai customs of giving gifts and going on silly dates was just so tedious and boring. 

Of course, if Artanis didn’t even bother to show up in time then Alarak couldn’t claim him since he wasn’t part of the chain. It would ruin everything. So of course he was upset. 

Artanis was nervous the lightning could affect the warp beam, but at the second and third messages, he rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

Landing at the approved location in his full ceremonial armor, he looked around just as Alarak's second approached, his head bow to her answered in kind before she started walking away, an obvious silent request to follow her which he took, his required guards the council had sent with him like he was a child following along obediently. He huffed in mild annoyance at the whole situation, they swiftly migrated through the city to the edge of the arena. His name was submitted to the lists before he emerged, bright and visible in his white and gold among the crowds of black.

Alarak had been sitting sideways in his throne which was placed in a box above the arena where he could watch everything easily but he perked up and sat forward when he finally saw Artanis step onto the field. The Hierarch looked glorious as ever in his polished armor but Alarak knew Artanis wouldn't mind staining the set with a little extra blue from battle. He was excited to watch.

There were many warriors eager to challenge not just a Khalai, but the Hierarch himself and Artanis had countless battles to wade through, the healers endlessly busy thanks to him. When he was finally allowed a break, he sat to clean some of the blood off, his muscles warmed albeit covered in sweat as lightning crashed in both the atmosphere and his eyes when he began again. He would prove his place amongst these people and earn the unity he so desperately wanted with them. Not just due to their Highlord either. 

After Artanis had proven himself enough to the Tal'darim people and earned himself a rank amongst the Ascendants, Alarak finally lost his patience. He waited for the current battle to finish before standing up and demanding the attention of his people.

"You have seen the grace and power of the Hierarch of the Daelaam, many of you now have felt the sting of his blades. He has earned his place as a warrior of our highest rankings. So now, before you all, before any others dare to cast their gaze on what's mine, I claim Hierarch Artanis as my own. Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!" He said, his eyes and voice echoing with power as he stepped from his box into the air, a red cloud of power forming at his feet to carry him carefully to the ground in front of Artanis.

Blue eyes narrowed as Artanis glared at him, blades fizzling out so he could cross his arms. "So... this is why you invited me. I challenge you then, Highlord. For my own hand."

Alarak eyes squinted with joy and approval. "I would expect nothing else Hierarch." He said back as he stepped back into the starting position on his side of the field adrenaline already rushing through his veins. He had longed for this fight since they first met, now he would not lose.

Psionic plate and pauldrons shifting around for a power boost, he took his place and lit one blade, holding it up to his face in a silent challenge to Alarak before they ran at one another, their weapons meeting with a thud of psionics.

It was like watching two copies of one being, one dark and one light, just smashing into one another like titans, Artanis even tossing his opponent a good distance before chasing after him. He couldn't afford to lose or the Daelaam would be seen as weaker, his claws digging into dark armor.

The Arena seemed to be getting damaged more than either opponent, walls getting cracked as they threw each other into them, dirt ground beneath them being torn up by their claws. Their armor suffered as well, one of Alarak's large energy gathering shoulder plates getting broken off.

The battle was long and fierce, both Tal'darim and Khalai cheering for their leaders and watching on the edge of their seats at near misses. But finally, it was Alarak who stumbled. If it had been a fight to the death, he could of won. He had a perfect shot to take Artanis' head from his shoulders and almost acted on it in the heat of the battle. Only to have the thought freeze his muscles and it gave Artanis the opening he needed to take him down and pin him to the ground.

The lightning above illuminated Artanis as he slammed Alarak down so hard the jutting daggers in his armor embedded into the dirt, the wide grey chest heaving within the metallic confines while his knees pinned the black claws, blue power building in one hand. "Yield, Highlord."

Alarak looked into his eyes feeling the crushing blow of defeat weigh heavily in his hearts but knew he had failed. "I yield!" He yelled out so it could be heard clearly and closed his eyes feeling anger roll under his skin before he let it pass knowing he wasn't actually angry as much as disappointed in himself.

The Templar let go of his power just as a bolt struck, banishing it into the earth around them before he stood to pry Alarak from his entrapment.

Helping him stabilize, he kept a hand on the Tal'darim as he yelled for all their people to hear too. "I claim Highlord Alarak as my own! Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!"

Alarak blinked, not having expected that. But the surprise only lasted a moment before it was covered with a cocky and well-worn expression. "Awww you were playing hard to get. I knew there was a reason I chose you." He said flicking Artanis' crest.

"I accept your claim through my defeat. I am yours." He said to finish the claim since he couldn't deny Artanis' right to it after being defeated.

Artanis relaxed as they started to walk off the field together so the festivities could continue. "Stubborn Tal'darim. You could have just asked."

"That is not the Tal'darim way and to do so would be a dishonor to you Artanis. I treated you as I would have any Tal'darim. I could have won but I didn't want to hurt your pride. This way will let my people respect you and the Daelaam more anyway. It was all part of my plan." Alarak said, no longer any doubt or sign of weakness to be seen. In fact, he looked even more cocky than usual. 

Artanis rolled his eyes knowing the truth but letting Alarak say what he wanted. They both had won in the end and that was what mattered. 

[flipomatic]

Internship Chapter 2: Day 1 - Edric

Author Note: Here we are for chapter two. The publishing schedule is going to be on Tuesday and Friday evenings for this fic.

First Chapter

__________________________________________________________

Edric grimaced at the Bonesborough jail building, dreading the moment he would have to go inside. This was where he was assigned for his internship, so he had very reluctantly walked here. Surprisingly, he was not supposed to report to the Emperor’s Castle, but instead to the local city jail. Edric dragged his feet every step of the way there that morning.

All he wanted was an easy internship at the Illusion Coven, was that too much to ask? Apparently, the answer was yes. The universe had condemned him to an internship in law enforcement, which was literally the last place he wanted to be. Edric would’ve rather been in class than standing within a hundred feet any branch of the Emperor’s Coven.

Em should’ve been assigned to this coven instead, at least she would enjoy the challenge. For Edric, just the thought of having to chase criminals and use other magic was giving him hives.

He suggested to Em that they use magic to disguise themselves as each other, but the Illusion Coven would see through it for sure. They would last a few days at most, and risk both failing the internship when they were caught. They couldn’t come up with any other ideas, so the only option they had was to go along with their coven assignments.

That was what led to Edric standing in front of the Bonesborough jail building, heavy feet not wanting to take a single step closer. It wasn’t too late; he could still leave without being noticed. He could even use an illusion spell to make it so nobody would see him fleeing.

“Hey kid, are you lost?” A male voice asked from his left. Edric turned to look, and saw an Emperor’s Coven member just a couple feet away. His face was covered in the beak mask most coven members wore and he had one hand raised, as if he was going to tap Edric to get his attention. He wore the grey uniform and white cloak of the coven. He must’ve been confused; Edric had worn his casual clothes instead of his Hexside uniform, so he must’ve looked like he was lost.

Edric took half a step away. “Oh, sorry no.” He cleared his throat and decided to resign to his fate. “I’m the new intern from Hexside.”

“We have an intern?” The coven member sounded surprised, his hand dropping back to his side.

Edric shrugged, not sure how to respond to that. “I guess.” Did they not know he was coming? He felt a spark of hope; maybe they would just let him leave.

The coven member thought about it for a moment before speaking. “Come with me.” Was what he settled on, crushing Edric’s short lived dream as he gestured for him to follow along into the building. The coven member started walking away, leaving Edric to drag his feet from where he had planted them and follow him in.

It was strange that the coven members didn’t know he was coming, Edric thought. Even though he had only heard about this on Friday, the coven must’ve had more time to prepare. At least, that’s what he assumed.

They entered through the front door of the jail, passing by the lobby and clerk to go to an ‘Emperor’s Coven Only’ door. The coven member opened it without hesitation, leading Edric deeper into the building. They walked through a hallway with a number of office doors, all with names plates on them. Edric glanced at a few, but didn’t recognize any of the names. His parents would likely scold him if they knew; they often told him about high ranking coven members with the expectation that he would remember them.

When the pair emerged from that hallway, they reached an intersection. The coven member turned right, but was stopped before he could move any further.

“I see you found our intern.” A high pitched voice called out to them from the left branch of the intersection, one Edric had heard only a handful of times before. He looked over and saw a short witch with red skin. Blue bangs covered her right eye, giving her a slightly off-putting appearance. She was carrying a large bag dangling from one hand.

Edric had seen her before when his class toured the Emperor’s Castle, and on the news a few times since. He couldn’t remember her name, but he knew she worked directly for the Emperor.

The coven member spun on his heel, saluting her as she approached. “Kikimora, Ma’am, he was in front of the building.” Edric was impressed that he didn’t complain about not knowing an intern was coming.

“Thank you, I’ll take him from here.” Kikimora replied, dismissing the coven member. He finished his salute, then spun on the same heel as before to continue in his originally intended direction. Edric watched him go for a moment.

“Welcome to the Emperor’s Coven.” Kikimora said, drawing Edric’s attention back to her. “To be chosen for this role is the highest honor. If you work hard, you will be able to earn your place here.” That was the exact opposite of what Edric wanted to do; he would give anything to be anywhere but here.

Edric tried not to visibly grimace, forming what hoped was an inoffensive, if untrue, response. “I’ll try.” He replied.

“Hmm.” Kikimora’s one visible eye narrowed. “We’ll see, won’t we.” Edric felt a shudder down his spine at those words, wondering what exactly she had planned for him. After a momentary pause, Kikimora continued speaking. “Come along, I will show you the facility.” She turned back down the hallway she came from, gesturing for Edric to follow.

At the end of the short hallway they reached a set of two doors, with one that said Women and the other that said Men. “These are the locker rooms. You can wear your uniform in or change here in the morning.” Kikimora said as she lifted the bag in her hand to hand it to Edric. This is your uniform. Go put it on, I will wait for you here.”

Edric had to lean down to accept the bag from her, which was pretty light considering the size of it. He peeked inside as he walked into the men’s locker room, sighing at the large curved mask that took up most of the space. He looked for an empty locker, then started to unload his new clothing.

The clothes inside included black slacks and a grey shirt, which were fairly inoffensive. Edric had no problem taking off the casual clothing his mother forced him to wear and trading it for a much simpler grey and black look. As he put them on, he found the new clothes surprisingly comfortable too. The long sleeves could get warm in the sun, but there were spells to counter that.

Next was the boots and gloves, which magically adjusted to fit when he put them on. After that he put on the white cape, which covered his shoulders and cascaded down his back.

Last but not least was the beak mask. This was easily his least favorite part of the uniform and the only piece he didn’t want to wear. Edric put it on slowly, and was immediately unable to see out of his peripheral vision. How could they wear these all the time? It seemed so impractical.

Edric stowed his other clothes in a locker, locking it with a spell, and then put his hood up to go look in the mirror at his new uniform. “I look like a bird.” He muttered, adjusting the mask on his face. Unfortunately, this was as good as it was going to get.

He sighed again, then left the locker room to rejoin Kikimora. As promised, she was waiting for him in the hallway. She nodded when she saw him, smiling in approval of his new look. At least one of them liked it.

They then walked back down the hallway, turning left to go down the middle branch of the intersection from before. This hallway was longer and led to another set of two doors, but these ones were not labeled.

Kikimora opened the one on the left, speaking as she walked through the door. “This is the training facility. You will spend time here honing your magic and combat skills.” Edric followed her through the door, eyes widening at the surprisingly large room on the other side. He had to turn his head a lot to see it properly.

The training room stretched for at least a hundred feet long, forming a large rectangle. There were racks of weapons along the walls, including training wands. A few coven members were scattered through the room, practicing magic or swinging a physical weapon. A couple were even sparring in one of the corners.

It was an impressive space, the first thing Edric had found interesting since he arrived. This would be a great room to conduct pranks in; the walls were just asking to be graffitied. Plus, he could isolate unsuspecting coven members here as easy targets. That was probably not what he was supposed to get out of this tour, but it was incredibly appealing.

Kikimora waited for him to stop looking around, then gestured for him to follow her back out.

“The other door is the staff lounge.” She said when they reached the hallway, then started walking back towards the intersection without offering Edric a chance to look inside. That was disappointing, since the staff lounge would likely be Edric’s favorite room in the whole jail. But no, he had to follow her away from it.

Kikimora again turned left at the intersection, this time going the same direction the coven member he met earlier went when they parted ways. The hallway here was short, ending in a single door.

“This is the dispatch center. You will report here every day to receive your assignments.” Kikimora led Edric into the room. This was a moderately sized space, with windows to let in natural light. A desk filled the center of the room, with an Emperor’s Coven member sitting at it. Edric figured that he was the dispatcher. There was paper spread across the desk and piles of binders on the ground near it.

Three other coven members were in the room as well, talking with the dispatcher. They wore hoods and the same beak masks over their faces, so Edric wasn’t sure if one of them was the member he met earlier. When they noticed Kikimora, they all turned to salute her.

“Welcome to the branch Ma’am.” The dispatcher said, likely speaking to Kikimora and not to Edric. If Edric knew the crowd better, he would’ve cut in with a joke. Unfortunately, he suspected doing that now would get him kicked out of both the internship and Hexside. “What can we do for you?”

“We have a wonderful opportunity to foster a young mind.” Kikimora gestured towards Edric, stepping aside so the coven members could see him better. “This young man will be interning with the coven.” She gestured to the coven members on the left and center as she introduced them. “Edric, this is Patrol Witch Ralph and Patrol Witch Anderson. They are our highest ranking officers at this branch and will guide you for the next month.”

“Thank you for your kind words.” The one on the left, who must’ve been Ralph, eased his posture as he replied. He had a mid range voice, a little higher than Edric’s own.

“We’re honored to train him here.” The second one, had to be Anderson but Edric really wasn’t sure, chimed in next. His voice was lower, his speaking pattern slower. How was Edric going to tell them apart when they all dressed exactly the same? Their voices did sound different, but if they didn’t talk then there was no way to know.

“I want him on the market route today. Tomorrow morning I’ll send over his long term assignment.” Kikimora looked at the dispatcher as she spoke, who quickly scribbled something down.

“Yes Ma’am.” He replied with a nod.

“I leave him in your care then.” She turned away, walking towards the door. When she opened it, she looked back at Edric before stepping through. “Best of luck to you, young witch.” Again, Edric felt a shudder.

A moment later and she was gone, leaving Edric alone with the Emperor’s Coven witches. It was also hard to tell any of their emotions since their faces were hidden by masks. He had to rely on body language and voice. There also could’ve been another witch in the corner and Edric never would’ve seen them, since he could only see straight ahead of himself, but that wasn’t very likely.

None of them had seen his face yet; he wondered if he could still escape with a well time illusion spell. That probably wouldn’t work, since he would have to take the mask off to do it right and then they would know what he looked like.

“I have the market patrol today.” The third coven member, on the right, raised his hand as he spoke. His voice sounded familiar; this was the witch who Edric met when he arrived.

“He’ll go with you then, make sure to keep him out of trouble.” Anderson said with a nod. He seemed to have more authority than the other two, though it was hard to tell.

“I was just about to head out, let’s go.” The coven member walked past Edric to the door, expecting him to follow. Edric slowly turned to trail after him, hoping that they wouldn’t have to walk the entire way there.

They left the other two behind, then exited the jail through the main entrance.

“We’ll walk, it’s not far.” The coven member said, leading the way into town. Edric followed without a word, frowning beneath his mask. “I’m Mike by the way. You’re a Hexside student, right?”

“Yup.” Edric gave a short reply as he stumbled over a rock. He was trying and failing to not to look down at his feet while he walked. He hadn’t realized how much he relied on his peripheral vision to not trip on things.

“Our main job on patrol is to keep an eye out for criminals.” Mike started to fill Edric in on what the internship actually entailed. “So if you see something suspicious, let me know.”

“Alright.” Edric replied dryly, not excited about the prospect of doing that job. He was far more likely to be running from authority, not the witch enforcing it.

They walked in silence for a minute.

“What track are you in at school?” Mike asked, still trying to make conversation while they walked.

Edric spun one finger in the air, not able to resist a chance to show off. He made a series of light clones appear around Mike, all wearing the Emperor’s Coven uniform and walking in step with him. “Illusion track.” He would’ve winked if Mike had been able to see it.

Mike looked around at the clones, then back at Edric. “Impressive. As expected, they only accept the best in the Emperor’s Coven.” If the internship hadn’t also been a lot of work, that would’ve warmed Edric to the idea of it. “What magic can you do from other tracks?” Mike asked, looking for more details.

Edric dispelled the clones before answering. “Not much.” He replied honestly. He hadn’t dabbled in other magic, illusions had always been the best track for him.

“You’ll need other types for the job. I suggest starting with plant magic, it’s really useful for catching runaways.”

Edric wasn’t going to suggest that catching criminals was the last thing he wanted to be doing. He just sighed and said he’d work on it. He could already feel the hard work hives starting to develop.

A minute later and they arrived at the market. Mike told him that they should be quiet and focus on their route, and then started to patrol around the market. Ed trailed after him, regretting every decision he made that brought him to this moment.

His feet were already sore.

He hoped Em was having a better first day.

Next Chapter

[dxxtruction]

Tyrell Wellick - Character profile - (sorta an unprofessional psych analysis) 

NOTE: I’m not an expert and this is also non-exhaustive of everything I could write about Tyrell. Can’t observe every little thing. This is also super unorganized below the cut I’m sorry. 

Words I’d describe Tyrell by: Ambitious, Boastful, Selfish, Controlling, Violent, Impulsive, Emotional, Loyal, Strategist, Enthusiastic, Extroverted, Adaptable, Vain, Desperate, Observant, Insightful, Driven, Fearful, Intelligent, Cunning, Technical, Prepared, Outwardly Friendly, Resourceful, Loathing, Self Loathing, Sometimes Cooperative, Caring, Vulnerable, Fearful, and Influenced.

Psyche: Erratic behavior, attaches own goals into a special person, delusions of grandeur, looks down on and has disregard for many others, has a certain lack of guilt or regard for breaking ethical or personal boundaries, adapts self in order to achieve goals, wearing masks over the more vulnerable and perceived weaker sides of himself, perhaps hiding various amounts of self loathing, maladaptive perfectionism, strong desire for control.

 I’ll avoid anything official and say he likely has some form of personality disorder and/or perhaps an attachment disorder.

Tyrell seems to be driven almost entirely by his own ambitions and goals for his life. Those goals change but he continues on doing anything possible to meet those ends. Believing he is destined to have them over others who seek similar ends. 

He care’s a lot about his appearance, both in how he looks and in how others perceive him suggesting a need to garner their respect and control perceptions. Perhaps fearing rejection and public humiliation. Feels it necessary to hide himself behind the best of outward appearances. Feeling equally deserving of respect and deeply afraid of losing it. The latter suggesting a point in time where he saw himself associated with certain perceived inferiorities (perhaps his family being poor, his accent, a lack of knowledge or skill, a lack of restraint), that still lingers in him even though he’s tried (relentlessly) to escape them.

Tyrell tries to maintain a look of control and professionalism, something he’s well developed in order to get to where he is. With control, having the upper hand, he believe’s he can not lose. He however cracks under the pressure of perhaps not having control by lashing out and acting on impulse, often violent impulse. Regaining a sense of power over the situation in destructive ways that run counter to what he’s trying to achieve. 

There’s hints at a fear of showing weakness and vulnerability suggesting perhaps toxic masculinity and could also be the same fears of rejection and public humiliation. The amount of effort he seems to put into this suggests he fears in some way that he could very well be exposed as a fraud. Tyrells mask is there for a reason and I think that reason is to avoid his fears, of which there are many.

He is aware of many of the masks he wears (but maybe not all of them), and seems to practice and perfect them. He’s a perfectionist: self defeating, even self harming, towards unrealistic goals and expectations of himself, causing undue stress. Tyrell has a hyper-fixation upon inadequacies he sees in both himself and others. This causes quite a lot of black and white, narrow ways of thinking.  

Tyrell can also crack and shed off his mask, showing his vulnerable side when alone or when he is feeling weak or defeated. He cries. I think he feels his emotions fairly intensely at all times. Which may contribute to why he tries so hard on maintaining a different sense of himself which is far more collected. Creating distance from how he feels things in order to see himself as more in control. And as always in order to meet his goals. I get a sense of self hatred, a certain level of shame from Tyrell in the ways he seems to cover up who he is from the world. Perhaps from the amount of things he has bottled up. 

Despite feeling deserving of his goals, he knows you must work to get the things you want, and so he will resort to ANY means necessary. Boundaries mean nothing when it works towards his goals. Conventionality and reason can be sacrificed if needed. Breaking conventions seems (to me) a last resort measure as Tyrell is proven to be sufficient at getting to where he is through his social and technical skills along with keen professional insights and overall intelligence within his field. He is very eager even without the more harmful ways of getting what he wants. These are all factors which make him appear desirable for high ranking positions within his field, and probably prove to him a sense of higher worth and tangible achievement. 

I do want to point out that he is observant of things most people tend to not notice or have foresight on. This quick internal observations lead him towards quick assumptions, making for keen awareness of how others will act, yet he holds strong to the initial judgements he has of people. The skill of reading people seems fairly important if you are to strategize with or against them and Tyrell is always following some type of plan and agenda. While not always in complete control of how he may act or feel he can control and manipulate the direction of his life to the ends he needs. He needs have it planned out for him to feel secure. 

While at first glance Tyrell may seem like only self concerning. He seems to have a pattern of attaching his goals in with a loyalty/contract to a specific person who he does them for. This leans towards delusions of grandeur especially with Elliot. 

In these relationships there is perhaps also seeking consistent validation from them. Going out of his way to make sure they notice what he’s willing to do for them. Idolizing them and desiring these relationships to succeed in the ways he envisions them to. Likely has fears of his own inadequacy to succeed within the relationships goals, and fears that he could ruin the relationship by not succeeding. Leading to a suppressed but present low self esteem and easy influence over his actions.

He feels a strong need to provide for them, and they provide him with something as well or he wouldn’t show such loyalty. (Ie: Ability to seek the highest ideal of the American dream/Ability to rule the fate of the world). In other words they seem to offer a boosted ego or chance towards something he finds valuable to his personal ambitions. He cares about them but can’t ever shake what drives him.

In a world where he can get anything and impress anyone those who subvert that are incredibly intriguing to him, and it also must be incredibly painful when he starts to develop strong feelings of attachment and they reject him. These people (Joanna and Elliot) are withholding and inconsistent in showing Tyrell that validation he wants. Making him have to chase their approval and respect. Which keeps him interested in continuing to succeed for them, to show off and get their attention. (Ex: Joanna’s gifts, Tyrells insistence on appearing good for Elliot). Winning their approval becomes a part of his core driving ambitions to succeed. 

Joanna is the perfect partner to fuel his more worldly ambitions. He wants to provide for her everything and anything which proves they are both successful and victorious in their dreams in life. While Elliot seems more to fuel his delusions of grandeur - he can have ultimate control and power via Elliot’s perceived ultimate power and control. In both instances he wants to share in success, feels this sharing as very intertwined with his life and the direction it needs to go. This intertwining can lead him to accept certain approaches he shouldn’t, but again he’s easy to influence in this position. 

I feel Tyrell fears most of all not having control (like many in this show), when feeling this way he tends to act out in anger. Tyrell uses violence often as a means of control, an outlet for his own anger and rage when he senses a lacking of power in a situation. He is also impulsive when angered showing a instinctive pull towards violence when he feels this way. He lacks a certain control over these emotions, making him erratic. I sense Tyrell does a great deal of work to mask this side of himself from others, at the very least to keep up appearances. (keep in mind I never said he ever did handle himself well.) 

The root causes of all of this is likely some combination of genetics, upbringing, and stress from the crushing weight of his goals. He has pointed out a strong desire to be unlike his father, who he sees as weak and pathetic for not trying hard at anything in his life. This seems to be near the root of his pathos as Tyrell shows he must be strong and in control while always doing anything to succeed. He isn’t afraid of the taboo either and almost seems to seek out what is most ambitious, risky, and rebellious in order to prove himself. Especially when it achieves some greater end. 

Tyrell has two side really, the conquerer and the meek. He is selfishly driven, but easily influenced. Prone to violent behavior, but passionately submissive to those he loves. Willing to do anything to get what he wants, but can be equally vulnerable and saddened by loss and failure. He suppresses himself but is easily emotional and erratic. Driven by success but also ruled by fear. Insightful but also delusional and narrow minded. 

Tyrell may have precarious ways of dealing with situations and getting at his ambitions but ultimately his concerns are always fairly human and usually seem reasonably achievable for him at face value. He wants to provide for his family, make sure they’re safe, he wants to get the position he’s worked hard for (things get ... confused when it comes to Elliot but I think it starts with noticing how Elliot could be a good potential hire to boost his reputation then things just continue to escalate as they seem to toy with one another to his mind). He reacts perhaps with probably just too much passion, and I don’t think he can help it. What I’m getting at it is Tyrell has a very human side to him that’s fairly normal and awkward even, he’s kinda just a huge techie nerd and loves that he is, we see a lot of the normality of Tyrell in 404. 

[moodforanime]

Chihiro’s Return| Spirited Away fanfic|

A/N: This is the first chapter of an unpublished Spirited Away fanfiction I started writing and I need validation. Before anyone starts reading it, I’d like to note that I based it off an interview w/ the creator of Spirited Away mentioned in multiple articles where the creator said that at the end of the movie, when Chihiro leaves the tunnel along with her parents, she forgets everything that has happened in a matter of seconds. So I was like ‘Let’s write!’.

Word count: Like, 1.6K

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Anyone who knew Chihiro ever since she was a young girl could agree that the past decade has brought the girl a major glow up. The little, frightened girl they once knew turned into a confident young woman ready to face life. This all happened thanks to her parents’ decision to move away from their hometown and start anew.

Chihiro couldn't disagree- even if she hated it at first, it was a good choice. Yet… something was missing. Ever since she moved into her new house and attended her new school, the ghost of an undetectable memory didn't fail to remain with her in the back of her mind with an unbreakable loyalty. She tried to ignore it, to forget it, and to leave that eerie feeling of missing out on a dear memory, but it never failed to find its way back to her.

As she walked through her college dorm room, packing her bags, she paused for a moment to look at a framed picture standing on a shelf, a photo of her 10 year old self along with her parents. The girl in the picture grinned ear to ear as she stood between her parents, holding onto their arms.She picked up the framed photo and smiled. Summer returned and she had the chance to see her parents again. Although Chihiro didn't like to admit it, she did miss her parents terribly. 

Honestly, she was more than happy to spend two months with her parents. Her parents were getting old and weren't popular for their strong immune systems, so only God knew for how long that Chihiro still had the chance to spend time with them. The door creaked lightly as it opened, without disturbing Chihiro from her meditation.

'Chihiro-chan.' A soft, female voice said, in an attempt to catch the girl's attention.

Chihiro's head shot up immediately, as she looked at the door curiously. A girl her age with short, dark hair and casual clothes looked at her from the doorway. 

‘Asura. I thought you went to the bus?’ 

‘Did you pack your bags? Everyone is there already there,’ Asura said, ‘We're leaving in fifteen minutes, you know.'

Chihiro felt her face get pale. 'Ah… yes, of course. I was just closing my luggage.’ 

She put the picture in her luggage and fetched the last clothes that were lying on her bed right next to her, and threw them in her luggage. After she forced the luggage to close, Chihiro took if off the bed, grabbed it by its handle and pulled it behind her as she left the room with her roommate.

Luckily for the two girls, their bedroom was placed on the first floor of the campus building, so they weren’t at such a high risk of being late. They walked rapidly across the campus garden and only increased their steps more when seeing a female teacher waiting in front of the bus, looking at them with a disapproving, sour look.

‘At last, Ogino-san,’ the teacher said as the two girls arrived in front of her.

Chihiro bit her lip as she bowed deeply, along with Asura. No matter what her parents told her while growing up, she still hated her last name. She would not get used to its ugliness. It reminded her of a big, ugly plum, or a reed plain.

‘I’m deeply sorry for my tardiness, sensei,’ Chihiro apologised, ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘I hope not. Tardiness is definitely not a quality a young woman should have. Take your luggage and get on the bus.’

Chihiro did as she was asked to. Helped by Asura, Chihiro lifted her luggage in the air and walked on the bus. As she walked on the bus, Chihiro smiled as she spotted her closest friend. After bidding a goodbye to Asura, Chihiro walked to her friend and pushed her luggage on the tray above her.

‘I saved you a seat!’ The girl told Chihiro excitedly, as she pat the free seat next to hers.

‘Thank you, Fumiko. You saved my life.’

The two girls laughed, as the bus’ doors closed. Soon enough, the bus’ engines started and the bus began moving.

‘Going to your parents’ house for the summer?’ Fumiko asked.

‘Mhm. Gotta spend time with them, y’know? So they don’t think I’m ungrateful or that I stopped loving them.’

Fumiko nodded. ‘I know the feeling. I’ll visit my parents as well for a while, but I’ll mostly travel with Akio.’

Akio was Fumiko’s boyfriend. Chihiro met him a couple of times as she had nothing bad to say about him. His and Fumiko’s relationship was a steady one and he presented to be a good guy with a goal that kept him pushing forward. If he treated Fumiko right and both of them were happy, Chihiro had nothing to say. 

‘That’s really nice, Fumiko. I wish I met someone like that, too.’

‘Oh, you’ll find someone, Chihiro,’ Fumiko said light-heartedly as she nudged Chihiro lightly, ‘I know you will. You’re an amazing person.’

Chihiro smiled.  ‘Thank you. You know, when I get home, I might make a small trip myself. There’s this old, abandoned  building near my house, with a tunnel for entrance. My dad says it’s probably some of those buildings that were abandoned after the revolution in the nineties. It always creeped me out as a kid, but now… I really want to see what’s behind it.’

‘Ooh, it sounds like an adventure!’

‘It’ll definitely be one.’

After that, the subject was changed and the two girls continued to chat throughout the ride. A solid five hours later, Chihiro found herself sitting on the seat next to the window, watching how her town bathed in the warm, orange tones of the sunset, as a certain feeling of nostalgia washed over her. Fumiko got off the bus about an hour before, so now Chihiro was left on her own. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have any other friends. It was simply that many people had already the bus already and even the few people left on the bus were all tired from the long ride and the chit-chat and were waiting for the time they would reach their homes. In that moment, everyone wanted to be left alone.

Ever since last summer, Chihiro’s town didn’t change much. The same buildings, the same colours and same people were hanging around the simple streets. Eventually, the bus entered a street on a hill that Chihiro knew only so well. All the houses looked simple, made out of bricks and were coloured in simple colours. The bus stopped in front of a seemingly large house painted in blue. The bus driver coughed as he looked at the list in front of him.

‘Ogino Chihiro.’

‘Yes, sir.’ 

Chihiro stood up and took her luggage down. She walked down the aisle between the chairs. Just before she walked out of the bus, she looked at the driver, a nearly bald man in his mid-forties. ‘Thank you for bringing me, sir. Have a good evening.’

‘You too.’

She stepped out of the bus and watched how the bus’ doors closed, before the bus turned around and drove away from the hill. Chihiro smiled as she looked down at the forest beneath the hill. The forest wasn’t big, it was a mere surrounding around the hill that represented the highest point in the village The view was lovely, with a capability to relax anyone who happens to witness it. The only thing that brought a sense of eeriness was a red building that  found itself in the middle of the forest, at the end of a dirt road not too far from the hill. IT would give anyone a chill down the spine, and was the cause of many mysteries and nightmares throughout Chihiro’s early teens and teenage years. Chihiro wanted to visit the house very soon, but the plans were not immediate. She wanted to spend time with her parents first. She wanted to catch up.

As Chihiro walked closer to her door, she hardly had to knock to the door. As soon as her fist hit the white door two times, Chihiro didn’t find herself before a closed door but in the strong embrace of a well-build man.

‘Chihiro-chan!’ Her father exclaimed, happily, ‘Welcome back! How was the trip, darling?’

The man let Chihiro go and ruffled her hair as she took some deep breaths.

‘Thanks, dad,’ Chihiro said as she entered the house. She took her shoes of in the hallway at the entrance, before following her father in the living room, ‘The road was fine. It felt really long and it was boring after Fumiko got off, though.’

‘Any interesting boy to talk to?’ Her mother’s voice rang happily from the kitchen.

Chihiro laughed, lightly. ‘No interesting boy, mom. None that I know of.’

‘Good,’ her father approved with a strong nod, ‘You deserve better. I’m sure there might be some negociable options in the IT department, but with these new generations, it’s different, y’know? It’s not what it was in my time.’

‘Every generation is different, y’know?’ Chihiro pointed out.

‘Not all generations are good.’

‘Are you saying I’m stupid?’

‘Oh, not you! Certainly not you! You’re an intellectual gem among your peers. All I’m saying is that in some generations, a vast majority of people are a bad influence. Certain expectations and trends are set, which are absolutely not healthy at all.’

Chihiro puffed, lightly. Her father did make a point there. She’s had her fair share of bullies growing up, but the amount of bad people dropped considerably once Chihiro entered college. Most people attending college, she realised, wanted to be there. They were all there for a reason and various goals in life and saw a path in life. College offered Chihiro a much home-like feeling outside the place she grew up in and people she genuinely liked.

Chihiro’s mother came out of the kitchen and hugged her daughter tightly. 

‘It’s good to have you back home, dear,’ her mother said with a smile, before tuning to her husband, ‘Akio, won’t you help Chihiro get her bags in her room before dinner?’

‘Ah, yes, of course,’ Chihiro’s father exclaimed, as he took her luggage in his hands immediately.

Chihiro followed her father up the stairs and into her bedroom. As her father looked for a place where he could place her luggage, Chihiro’s eyes ran over her bedroom. The room was clean, all the things she left at home being neatly arranged. The amount of time that had passed since Chihiro’s last been in her bedroom made the room feel rather empty. It was welcoming and familiar, but empty. It wasn’t as if you had a long day and finally could go home, in your safe space. It was as if going back to a nostalgic memory that you once were so at home with, but was now something that you outgrew. Like a sweatshirt you once got and loved but eventually grew small and had to eventually be put in a cardboard box in the attic or thrown away to save space.

‘It’s really nice to have you back, Chihiro,’ her father said as he patted her back, ‘this house is really boring without you.’

Chihiro laughed. ‘Don’t let mom hear you.’

‘Oh, I’d be a dead man then.’ Her father laughed as he made his way towards her door, ‘Your mom’s setting the table now. Be sure to come before the food gets cold.’

‘Sure will.’

Chihiro watched how her father left her room, closing the door behind him. Being left to her own devices again, Chihiro found herself laying on her bed and staring at the plastic stars she once glued to her ceiling as a twelve year old. Memories from her younger self filled her mind, bringing her back to all the experiences she found herself in. At the reminder of her past horror, Chihiro stood up and walked to her bedroom window, locking gazes with the abandoned building from the forest. The building pushed so many nightmares and fears upon her for so many years, but it wouldn’t have to wait much longer before Chihiro took the final step to overcome her fears. 

For a moment, Chihiro scoffed at the building. Why was it so scary, anyway? It wasn’t some sort of magical portal. It was just a silly, old building that was out of use.