#I imagine Sprout talks to that shine a lot...

[intotheelliwoods]

Part 1! Part 2 can be found here

Dont think I have forgotten about that little shrine....

Masterpost

[i-have-homework-but-i-still-here]

Please, imagine that thanks to Jazz and/or Dora, Danny has learnt some manner that makes him behave like a royal when he's distracted and in all the conversation he was looking at the start and responding automatically, still freaking out cause HE'S IN SPACE!!!!!

And isn't mentioned but Wonder Woman slightly put his whip in his shoe

One day he's looking through the window, admiring the stars. One of the young heroes asked him what he found so interesting in them

"A lot I guess, from where I am is even more difficult to be close to them, so I'm just trying to search for a constellation, maybe they're the same than at home"

"You couldn't just... Fly to see them? Isn't like you need oxygen or something"

Danny laughs but his eyes became more sad

"I could, but there were things that needed more my attention than my desires"

"What kind of things?" One member of the league asked

"Well, when I was born you can say, some bad things happened and therefore it was my duty to protect everyone of the consequences"

"What kind of duty?" Batman interrupted the conversation. In his mind files he made about Danny and all the small detail he learnt

"Surrender" Danny looked at his hand where the ring was. His eyes were full of resignation, just like a person who just giving up fighting against an impossible enemy

Of course, he was talking about his duty like a king (it was all against one. It was unjust!) , fighting against his almost friendly opponent ghost and losing his academy record for being too tired to do his homework

To the rest it was a confirmation of who this kind, heroic and sweet child could be Pariah Dark OR with Pariah Dark

Red Robin, too stubborn to let this opportunity slip ( a rare occasion of Danny talking sincerely and not full of jokes. It was like he was obsessing over the stars) talked

"What do you think about Pariah Dark?"

Constantine almost choked on the air, two seconds away from collapsing over the stress

"Pariah Dark?" If possible the always shining green eyes darkened. "A tyrant, a man full of anger decided to possess everything that was denied to him when he was alive. Even if that meant destroying whatever he loved" The ring star to flame, the fire sprouting fire. Tim almost could see a tiara around Danny's forehead. "Funny how I put him to sleep because of his anger, but created someone worse than him"

"What do you mean?"

Danny eyes finally looked at Red Robin, but it was empty. Tim couldn't help to think that only his body was with them, his mind lost in the past

"You don't wanna know about Dan, he's sleeping too, so it's okay now"

--+--

To Danny the conversation was something forgettable, he was too busy fulfilling his wish to be in the space to even remember the situation. So he was happy when Batman gave him money and told him to buy some new clothes with Nightwing and Spoiler

To the league it was the confirmation of their principal theory. Constantine spends weeks listening to rumors until he called to another meet

"My contacts know about an old legend, almost a fairy tale even to them. Don't touch, this cost me a favor to a moody demon"

A papyrus was put on the table, Constantine frowning to anyone that stepped too close.

"When the first royals were born, a prince was famous for being curious about the world around him. Always going on adventures and helping people. He was loved by everyone, and was the favorite to be the heir."

In the papyrus was the image of a man with black hair and blue eyes, he was in a forest. Tim pointed the draw.

"It looks like the crown I saw yesterday in Danny"

"How I was saying" Constantine ignored him. "The prince was a few steps from becoming the new king when a revolution killed all the royals, except him" He pointed to a castle in fire, and the prince crying over dead bodies. "The head of the revolution forced the prince to choose between marrying him or watching his people die in the fire. The prince accepted to marry him and after saying his vows he drank venom"

The draws become of a man holding the corpse of the prince, at their side the cup with a mysterious green liquid

"But the ancient gods heard the prince promise and refused to let him run away dying. When the head of the revolution, now the tyrant died, he found the prince, just sleeping, waiting for him to be a couple even in the after life"

The prince was now a blurred figure, but the other man was clear. You could almost see the obsession on his eyes.

"Danny said something about the consequences of his actions" Superman interrupted, his face was sad

"There are versions, some say that the tyrant was a servant who fell in love with the prince. Other opines that the prince played with him and it was the tyrant's vengeance"

"In all the draws the prince looks sad" Flash talked, his eyes in the draw of the prince with a crown and a ring in his hand but tears like rives for his face

"Who is Dan he talked about?" Batman tried to keep the reunion focused on the principal business, even when the story caused Diana to break the glass in her hand

"I could talk with an entity of the time. I think it could even be one of the gods in the legend. This entity called himself the master of time and the guardian of Dan, the prince of the Infinite Realms"

A thunder makes everyone jump in their seats.

"What the hell?

"We are in space?"

"They're dramatic, it happens anytime someone says Dan's title. Anyway, that master of time told me that Dan was a crazy man destroying the world and dimensions until he was forced to stop for the guardian, the same man that put Pariah Dark on an eternal dream"

"Can we talk with the entity? Maybe he has more information about Danny" Batman asked, but Constantine shakes his head

"He was only open to saying something about Danny and it was just a number. 14... The age of everything begins "

"Do you think he was 14 when he was forced to marry Pariah Dark and having a child with him?" The voices of the members raise, all angry

"It is probably"

"He doesn't look older than 18"

"He was forced to fight against his own son"

"He was probably... R*ped for Pariah Dark"

"Such a young soul"

"He probably lost his memory fighting against the people loyal to Pariah Dark or Dan"

"Poor thing. A child in his world and had to be through hell"

"Is a child in this world"

--+--

Danny doesn't know what happened but one day the heroes of this world decide to be nice to him

Like, super nice

It was giving him goosebumps

No matter who he talked to, he was talked like he was an infant, sometimes they even give him candy!!!

(No that he was complaining about that but the point still)

Batman gives him a panic bottom connected to him, to call him anytime he needs something. Black Canary started to make a tea party of only them saying she wanted to talk to him. Superman gives him the strongest sad puppy eyes he has seen! Even stronger than Dani's!

(Strange, when he joked about it, Superman looked even sadder)

It was strange, but it was still nice

It was good (?) To be on vacation :D

New Leaf!Au

Danny successfully completed his training to ascend to the throne and is taking a well earned vacation to celebrate. The time for said vacation time is a surprisingly long, long vacation but one he was happy to take one nonetheless! So he decided to travel the multiverse and found one that had heroes!

Surely he could finally kick back, relax and watch them handle things without his help, right? Especially after aiding them in taking down the guy with funny lazer eyes (he tore Darkseid to pieces in front of said heroes for them).

...Right?

After much gaslighting, feigning innocence, and speaking half-truths on his part, Danny is able to convince them that he's an alien that was the last of his kind with very few memories left of who he was. Thankfully, Martian ManHunter's mind reading abilities don't work on ghosts, so it made him sell his pitch all the more easily.

"I cannot sense them anymore...I am alone...Will I die alone too?"

So now the league of heroes with a bleeding heart take him in and give him a place to stay as a reserve member. After being told that his kind age rather slowly and that he's still considered a youngling, Dinah thinks socializing with younger people will do wonders for Phantom.

And for a while, things are going good until a certain Hellblazer comes rushing to the Leauge to inform the Leauge that the Infinite Realms has been ruined by Pariah Dark and freaks out when he sees Phantom wearing the Ring of Rage.

Something only one Ghost Royalty can wield. Pariah Dark was the last known King of the Realms.

However, due to a lack of knowledge from on the Infinite Realms' practices and culture, they can only speculate what the happened before Phantom found himself wandering around the place. This causes everyone to go crazy with several conspiracy theories.

The most popular ones are as follows, not in any specific tank or order:

1) Phantom has the Ring of Rage on his ring finger. Specifically, on his left ring finger.

Which has some speculating that he was the husband/consort/favored concubine to the king and was offered it to become Pariah's beloved. With all of his injuries, it's assumed Dark's enemy's tortured Phantom to the point of memory regression and so the enraged monarch sacked the Realms to either find him or enact revenge.

Phantom did mentioned he probably had children (Dan and Dani) and that his 'kind' don't need to be male and female exclusively to have offspring.

(He used Box Ghost and Lunch Lady as reference.)

2) Constantine with the knowledge of how one becomes king.

It's possible that Phantom took the title of King after challenging Pariah Dark to one on one combat and suffered a serious blow to his head in the fight to usurp the Tyrant, causing his amnesia.

Medical scans revealed a healed scar on the side of his head under his hair, giving some support to the theory. If that's the case, then their friend is a potential warrior king lost in the Land of the Living!

3) Constantine is taken at face value.

Phantom is Pariah Dark. When his subjects made a move to kill him, they failed and somehow banished him to the realm of the living in exile. If Phantom regained these old memories and truly was the old warlord standing before them, the Leauge would have to make contingency plans to eliminate him, as he laid one of the afterlives to near irreparable ruin.

(Batman's infamous paranoia makes things worse to the point where Danny may flee the universe if he were to use a contingency on him...everyone disliked that!)

4) A Victim of unjust Betrayal?

During his talks with Martian ManHunter, Phantom talked about pieces of memories of ungrateful people and how they saw him as a menace, even though he did everything possible to keep them safe. Everything became a blur after his last encounter with his enemies but couldn't recall what happened next. When he came to, the place was in ruin.

(So it's possible he pulled a Lobo, lashed out in his panicked state and damaged the realms under extreme stress after being harmed by the denizens of the Realms before running away to escape.)

5) Regressed through other means?

Constantine knows that some ghosts have an initial form after death, so he believes that there's a chance that Phantom is Pariah Dark just before he used his powers to become the Evil King, his amnesia making him regress back to the moment before he makes a final decision.

• Some Leaguers believe he's a ticking time bomb if he regained his old memories. One that they probably can't stop, as Constantine and the other magic users can sense some serious God-like power emanating from the Phantom and who definitely has legions of undead armies at his command with forgotten knowledge that would make Apokolips look tame in comparison.

• The others who are more compassionate believe that this could be a chance to help nudge Pariah Dark onto a better path to avoid becoming evil again. Better to help walk a just path and not give him a reason to believe the Leauge would harm him.

One things for certain; everyone believes Phantom is at the critical moment on the crossroad again that could very well make or break the safety of the both the Infinite Realms and Multiverse.

So they'll help him go down the path of Justice.

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || my little flower

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her 

notes: historical!sukuna x reader, slightly sexual (no smexy time involved lol - maybe another day ;)), quite fluffy towards the end

also - I’ve been reading so many sukuna hcs and imagines of him when he’s in his prime or during the historical era - so like excuse me as I politely simp for the man that is ryomen sukuna >< thank you 

references: https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/literature/Ryomen-sukuna.html 

Sukuna leans back into the futon with a tired sigh, two of his arms folded behind his head while the other two held you against him securely. His ruby red eyes glanced away from the ceiling to look down at the woman curled up in his embrace, sleeping peacefully against him whilst her own soft arms were wrapped around his muscular torso. He admired your peaceful features at first, but soon his eyes started to travel down your delicate neck and cleavage, your soft skin marked by dark splotches where he had marked you up for the world to see.

Just the sight of the hickeys and bite marks caused Sukuna to smirk once more, the feeling of pride traveling through him at the sight of the hickeys, both new and old, marring your skin. It was a sight he would never get bored of seeing, since it was a constant reminder to you that you were his and no one else’s. 

Many would question just how did this happen - how did a simple human manage to ‘tame’ the infamous Sukuna - the King of Curses, who spreads chaos and bloodshed in his wake? How did you, a mere human woman who looked far too kind hearted and warm, ended up with such a fearsome man? 

Well, how this came to be was actually a cute story.

You grew up in a small village in Hida province, where many cities treated Sukuna as their patron deity. He was what people would call quite a cold ruler - one who would not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed down on a town that had angered him. But at the same time, he was quite the generous man as well. He protects the people of the Hida and Mino Provinces, and many towns had florish and grow under his careful guidance.

Your town was one of the may towns that worshipped the Cursed Spirit, preparing offerings on special celebrations and always paying your respects whenever you go up to the ichinomiya on the weekends with your parents. It was because of one of these special celebrations that drew Sukusa to you.

It was one of the many days where offerings were given to him by townspeople, in hopes that they will still continue to get some form of protection from the unknown. He was their patron deity, after all. Even though many times he does all the things he does for his own benefit, it was nice to know that there are some who are gullible enough to think he does it for them. But he it’s one to complain - many of the offerings are things he does not mind indulging in. The best crops from the harvest, women for his ever growing harem, beautifully crafted weapons and clothes are the few he can keep in mind

Many times, he does not care to go through the offerings himself - Uraume goes through all of them and then gives him a general overview of everything. However, as he was walking past one of the neat piles of offerings, a particular garment box caught his eye; causing him to pause before he unwraps it curiously. 

Sitting inside the carefully wrapped package was a beautiful dark blue kinomo made of the finest silk, the fabric so smooth that it almost felt like water slipping through his fingers. Packed along with the kinomo was a beautifully crafted haori, a simple yet beautiful crane woven into the haori in white, the details done so carefully that when worn, the crane moves with the shifting of the fabric. The packet also came with a matching hakama made from the luxurious fabric, and a beautiful kaku obi made from navy blue, white and silver carefully weaved together into in a beautiful talent.

It was because of the level of craftsman ship that had Sukuna curious - who was the mastermind of something so beautiful?

He had went to the town where the garment was from and after some digging about, discovered about you. A daughter to a family of tailors, you were quite well known for your talents in embroidery and your mastery of the loom. Having gotten such talents, you crafted many beautiful pieces, and one of them was gifted to Sukuna himself recently. 

When he first saw you, he was struck by your beauty; how you had such a warm smile no matter who you were referring to. How your movements were graceful yet swift, your needle and threat embroidering the most beautiful depections of animals and flowers without a single mistake. How your voice was so sweet and calming that he can physically feel the tension from his body starting to unwind ever so slightly. If he could, he’d love to listen to your voice forever - which was what he intended to do. 

The first time you two met was actually in the dead of the night; you had stayed up later then usual, carefully embroidering a water lily onto a long fabric for a personal tapestry you wanted to hang in your room. A candle was burning by your work table, casting the engawa of your home in a soft but comforting glow; enough for you to do your work without straining too much. You were so fucsed on your work that you didn’t notice how the flames of your candle started to flicker in the glass holder; even though there was the air was still. Your eyes didn’t trail up from your tapestry even as a large figure quietly entered the hallway you were in; only pausing when you felt a huge presence looming over you.

Your bright eyes flickered upwards and met with four pairs of ruby red ones staring right back at you; all four of them shining in amusement. “You are quite oblivious, little one.” Sukuna hummed out with a soft grin, to which you just gave him a confused look as you tilted your head ever so slightly. “How did you get into my house?” You asked quietly, not even acknowledging how the man before you looked very different from what you’re used to; from the four muscular arms sprouting out from underneath the dark blue haori, the very same one that you had made for him. to the extra pair of eyes he sported on his face. Or how the top of his head was clearly brushing against the simple weed roofing of your family home.

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask, little one?”

From that day onwards, things definitely went a lot smoother then Sukuna could have imagined. At first the lack of reaction from you confused him, but he found it quite amusing nonetheless. Even after finding out that he was the same deity that you had heard stories of since you were in diapers, you acted no differently around him. You still talked and laughed with him like he was any other human. which for some reason made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. It makes him want to gather you up in his arms, protecting you from the horrors of the world.

The two of you will continue to meet up in the night like secret lovers; many nights he’d just lean against one of the pillars of your family home, with you perched in his lap as you work on different projects every night; talking about things that happen that day, or the funny stories that the townsfolk would share with you whenever they drop by to mend and purchase clothes, or when they dropped off freshly dyed fabrics. During a few of these nights Sukuna had suggested if you can help him mend a few of his kimonos, which you agreed to without hesitation. Some days you’d ever create new kimonos for him as well, which he would wear quite proudly. 

Soon these innocent nights of talking and laughter, him watching you do your work under the moonlight, to having you gasping and crying out for him as he took you over and over again in his grand bedroom; watching quite gleefully as he corrupted your innocence, ruining you for any other man. Ever since the first night you two shared in his bed, he knew that there was no turning back - there was no one else for him but you. 

And there was no way he was going to let some puny human even try to get in between the both of you.

With that he whisked you away from the somewhat mundane and boring life in your town, making you his entire world. He showered you with the finest gifts and opened the more human side of him to you; one that he thought he had lost the moment he had decided to go down the path he did. But you pulled these emotions out from him with ease, making him realise that he can chase all the power he want till the end of time and that will never satisfy him completely. 

All he needed was you, and everything feels right in the world.

“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped towards the direction of your sleepy voice, watching how you gave him the most beautiful yet sleepy smile as you carefully shifted your body so it was pressed against his. He marveled how your naked bodies clicked together seamlessly, even with the clear size difference between the two of you. “You will always have my attention, flower.”

The sound of the simple nickname cause a small smile tug against the corner of your lips, remembering how that nickname came about. You have always love studying flowers, since you enjoyed embroidering different sorts of flora and fauna onto different tapestries that now adorned the walls of the home you two share. You had once told him about your love of flowers, and because of that, you had came home one day to the courtyard in your shared home turned into your private garden; with flowers from all across the country planted at every nook and cranny. 

When you had asked Sukuna about it, he just shrugs and gave you an indulge smile - as if asking were you really shocked by his gift to you. When he realised just how deep your love for nature was, he had started to call you ‘his flower’, and the name has stuck since then. “What a sweet talker.”

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest as one of his hands found purchase along your back, starting to massage what he was sure were your sore muscles; watching in satisfaction as you melted more into his chest. “Only for you.” He admitted quietly, to which you just gave him a loving smile as you rest your cheek against his chest once more; a soft finger started to trace along the tattoos on his skin. This action caused him to relax further into the futon, sighing softly in content. “Sukuna? Can we take a bath?”

“I’m lazy.” Sukuna stated with a soft groan as he glanced down at you once more, only to be met by the soft pout that you just know gets him to give in. This caused him to scowl as he cupped your face in one of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “You little minx.” He growls playfully whilst you just gave him a teasing smile, straddling his lap with your legs on either side of his whilst one of your hands wrapped around his wrist; causing him to loosen his grip on you whilst letting out a loud sigh. “How annoying.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you before he got up from the comfort of the warm futon, causing you to giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s go, flower.” He sighs dramatically before he walked you both to the bathroom, causing you to perk up before you lean over to press a loving kiss against his cheek; ignoring his soft eyeroll at your act of affection. As if he didn’t enjoy it whenever you do so. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” He teases before he started to walk you two towards the bathroom, one of his hands skimming down to the small of your pack where a beautiful black tattoo rested against your soft skin; a tattoo that looks similar to the black lines that adorned his own skin. “You’re mine, after all.” He stated simply, causing you to roll your eyes at him playfully as he carefully sat you down on the wooden steps leading to the opening of the ofuro; watching as Sukuna started to prepare the bath for the both of you. “Wouldn’t it kill for you to just be a little nicer to me?”

Your teasing tone clearly didn’t win any points with him, who narrowed his eyes at you and before you know it you were suddenly pinned down against the wooden steps. A soft giggle left your lips at the narrowed eyes that stared back at you, causing Sukuna to scowl softly at your reaction. “Now you’re just asking for it, flower.” He growled before diving down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss; not being able to mask his smile at the sound of your soft laughter just as you wrapped your arms around him once more.

"My little flower..”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[soupbabe]

Heard you wanted to be spammed with requests-

So uh- Idk if you do platonic headcanons but- maybe platonic Stardust crusaders with a pillar crusader? Doesn't matter what,,, gender the bby pillar person is,,, just,,, sweet pillar babe who's tall af- and totally acts like a doofus at times---

You dont have to do this tho uvu

Stardust Crusaders + Pillarman! Reader HCs

It says Pillar*man* in title, but reader will be gender neutral, I think that's just the species (?) name! Also I like doing platonic requests so I don't mind doing this at all ! <3

Joseph Joestar

He met you around the time he met Santana

You were stuck in the same Pillar as the youngest pillarman, also playing the role of a guard dog before you were turned into stone

The main difference between you and your (uh forced adopted?) brother is that your face broke out in a huge smile and giggles filled the room when he booped your nose and told you to be happy

You were loyal to Kars, but throughout the time in Battle Tendency that decreased due to the realization that he never cared about you and did abandon you without thought

Joseph was there to comfort you through it and you helped in defeating Kars in return

After BT, you were sent to be studied at the Speedwagon Foundation and years later they were able to replicate the red stone of Aja for you

Ultimate Y/N ! Ultimate Y/N !

Sunburn no more

You became a nature deity, similar to Kars

First thing you did when the study was done was prank Joseph into thinking that the Ultimate Lifeform came back

Although it didn't work all too well, your forced down smile and stifled giggles definitely wasn't a sign of Kars, despite the mighty wings you sprouted

You lived with Suzi Q and Joseph for the majority of your new life and you adored being apart of their lives

Also they did make you babysit Holly numerous times even though you had no idea what a human baby looked like until now

Should've learned their lesson when one time you were caught making a rough sketch of what would have been a traditional pillarman tattoo on a 10 year old Holly, claiming that it's needed for her to grow up big and strong like you

Although you weren't a stand user, you had experience fighting ancient supernatural beings stronger than some stand users and you were a deity among men. Joseph didn't wait to take you with him when he found out that Dio was making a return

When Holly got sick and it was clear the crusaders had to go to Egypt, you didn't hesitate to sign up. It was a rare time that you were serious and your loyalty to your aged best friend shined through. You loved his family and you saw Holly grow up, of course you'd be there for him

Throughout SDC, you mostly just laughed at him (mostly during the fight with Mariah) and cracked jokes with him to ease tense situations

Also that bit at the end of the show where he pretended that Dio possessed his body?? He got that from you and you both laughed while Jotaro gave you both a glare

Iggy

Oh my god you barked back.

Y'all gossip with each other in dog, you're a nature deity, of course you can understand him perfectly

Added bonus of your powers is that he naturally relaxes with you

Sleepy gremlin

Jotaro Kujo

It took him a while to warm up to you

You were raised by Kars and Esidisi, dealing people who come off as cold and have occasional outbursts of anger come natural to you

He first doesn't think of you as anything when he first saw you

It wasn't until you sized him up, easily towering over the 6'5" teen, his eyes widened in astonishment a little

He has no problems with you, you're respectful to his mother and you respect his privacy for the most part

You're real bonding moment was when you made a lame, but fairfly obscure, fish pun when beating up the stand user of Dark Blue Moon

You both talked about marine life, he was genuinely interested in your experiences with ancient marine species and types of life before evolution made them what they were today

Although he doesn't like the happy go lucky types of people (they remind him of his annoying fangirls) you'll be the exception

A moment you both really became friends was in the Steely Dan fight

You shot your hand up in excitement, offering to aid in beating the hell out of the cocky bastard that mistreated Jotaro and Joseph

It was a good moment for you both to have light hearted banter and you ended the fight with a smile and a high five

Although persuading Joot to do the high five went more like: "Jotaro please" "No." "Pleassseeeeeee" "*sigh* Leave me alone after this."

I thank that you can't see stands. I can only imagine the endless lighthearted fights you and Star Platinum would have, you both giving each other proud smiles of how strong your friend has become

Noriaki Kakyoin

You gave a welcoming and cheerful aura when he woke up at the Kujo household

Out of all Crusaders, I do like to think that you would think of Kakyoin as more of a little brother

Probably because you miss Santana a bit tbh, red hair and a more reserved personality?? Easy for that to happen

Although you do make sure to keep that distinction between the two separate beings, gotta be healthy bby

You were one to always encourage him to get more out of his shell and be the friend he deserved

He would encourage you to speak about Pillarman society/culture when you both roomed together

One time you pranked him by giving him a handful cherries and giving him a tiny jumpscare when the cherries actually did turn back into your hand

Sometimes you both make fun of Polnareff together </3

Jean-Pierre Polnareff

,,,,big tall gentle giant? Oh my god he would've melted for you at first

He flirted with you first thing after the fight with Avdol, only to be immediately shut down with your laughter

It's not the first time someone hit on you, but his attempt was so cheesy and bad that it was funny

Don't worry he didn't keep on flirting with you though, it was clear that you weren't interested

That and you told him that you were over 1000 years old

You both were outgoing so it wasn't a big surprise that you two got along so well

He actually enjoys your tales of past fights and how it was like not being able to be in the sun for the longest time

That and he asked for hair care tips, your hair is very beautiful to him and to keep it as such even when you were turned to stone? Impressive

You both are dumbasses together, but you're the one to save his ass all the time

Especially during the first fight with Hol Horse, guns can't kill you and even then your skin can create a harsh shell to soften the blow

You just laughed it off, said that it tickled, and encouraged Polnareff to chase after the (now) frightened cowboy

You and Polnareff also have a lot in common too and you both are able to be for each other when it comes to Polnareff's grief over his sister and you technically being the only pillarman alive

Omg Y/N I can't believe you have yourself an emotional support himbo I'm jealous

You're also a wingman/wingwoman for him, years and years of experience (and using Joseph in his younger years as a "what not to do" reference) led you to being the perfect helper in getting whoever Polnareff wants

Muhammad Avdol

He's read about the Pillarmen, but he never thought that they were actually real

So when he met you he was flabbergasted

You and Avdol's friendship is like him unintentionally parenting a 7 foot 5 year old on one of those kid leashes

He knows that almost nothing can cause you great harm, but he still worries

Because of that his favorite form of hanging out with you involves chatting over tea or showing you foods you might not be aware of

In all honesty, it's greatly appreciated since your diet switched from vampires and humans to absorbing like 2-3 raw cows every other week. Your "palate" is not as expansive as you may think

While in India, you were able to buy some Henna and Avdol was very open to you giving him a mock Pillar tattoo

He wore it with pride and was very greatful

Sometimes when he gets homesick you make your arm into a chicken, and although it isn't the real thing, he appreciates it

You also show him ancient Pillar rituals too and it's his favorite thing to listen to

In return, you bother him to show you how to read tarot and tell him about (in your words) "occult business~"

You balance each other out and Avdol cherishes you greatly

When the mission to Egypt was over, he did name a chicken after you btw

[gorochanfanclub]

Sentiment

Majima x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: Majima and his girlfriend are watching a movie on the floor in their living room. When he reaches out to hold her, she is overcome with a feeling she can’t name. 

Contains: fluff, a bit of angst (maybe), hinted depression, Majima being the secret softie he is

A/N: My first time writing a fic for Majima. Hope you guys like it! Wrote this with a specific person in mind (one of my OCs lmao) but left it purposefully extremely vague who the woman was so anyone reading this can imagine whatever they want. Comment below if you figure out what movie they’re watching!! It is indeed a real movie and I made sure to hint at it pretty hard lol, it’s one of my own personal favorites I think Majima actually would like. Also think it’s worth noting I wrote this entire thing while listening to 1984 by Junko Yagami on loop lmao. Was inspired by an edit on Instagram using this song. (edit was by eyeglassez on there)

She nearly had drifted off to sleep when it happened. The comfortable weight of him on top of her, his heat warming her, the feeling of his hannya patterned ink under her sleep heavy hand, even the low, humming voices on the TV illuminating the dark room, all threatened to carry her away to a land of peaceful dreams. 

As she lay on the bedroll in the living room, the soft cotton sheets cradling her like an infant, her left hand rest on Majima’s shoulder blade, the other next to her face. His right hand rest under her head, beneath the plush pillow she placed it on. His other rest dangerously close to her right, fingers mere millimeters apart. 

This wasn’t an uncommon position for the two to be in. She enjoyed his warmth, the cold of this world being soothed by his soft body heat. He reveled in the feeling of a body pressed to his, often coming up with the excuse, ‘fat tits like yers are better ‘n any pillow out there.’

She couldn’t even remember what was happening in the film Majima had insisted they watch together. It was a Hong Kong made film, one of those kung fu type movies Majima couldn’t seem to get enough of. Her eyelids get heavy as she tries to stay lucid enough to listen, knowing Majima would want to talk about it later, probably referencing lines from the movie for weeks to come. 

Straining them open, she sees a little girl on the screen, getting harassed by a group of boys just a few years older than her. They tug at the rainbow lollipop in her hand, attempting to rip it from her small hands. Suddenly, another boy, much too small to fight even one of the bullies, comes running in her defense, leaving the group to abandon the girl and fight the young hero instead. 

The screen then flashes to the same couple, grown adults now, yet the same hero and the same girl who never go to thank her savior. From a small box, the girl produces the swirly confectionary, handing it to the now adult man who had rescued her all those years ago.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next after that. Her drowsiness clouded her mind too much to even think about the intimacy of such a scene on the television. 

Perhaps Majima had felt touched by the story that unfolded before him, or perhaps he just wanted more to feel. Gently, his fingers stretch to hers, lacing their hands together next to her head. His usually gloved thumb, now lying naked in an embrace with another hand, gracefully rubbed the back of her palm. 

It was so soft, so feather light, she might not have noticed it had she been anyone else. Yet, she was her, and in an instant, all sleep that threatened to take her over was gone, full lucidity coming back to her as she nearly gasped. 

She stayed as still as a statue, hoping Majima wouldn’t notice the change in her breathing. Luckily he didn’t, his eye stayed glued to the screen, mindlessly holding onto her as he continued his action. 

Heart beating in her chest, she didn’t know how to react. He was being so… gentle. What did she do to be deserving of any of this kindness? 

Her eyes dilate, losing focus of the television and staring at nothing in particular. She feels her mind wander, the feeling of his warm skin on hers flooding her thoughts, the voices on the screen just in front of her being replaced with his. 

***

The night air breezed past them as they walked. It whipped through his bowl cut, blowing delicate strands into his one good eye, shielding it from her view. 

She could watch him forever. He was like a piece of fine art to her; all rigid and strong with the softest curves on his face. The neon lights seemed to illuminate his skin, making it shine with a heavenly glow from within. The snakeskin leather on his shoulder glittered in the night, each scale gleaming in turn. 

When he noticed her eyes boring holes into him, he turned his head with a smirk, “Ya keep staring like that, I got somethin’ on my face?” 

His eye twinkled as he joked, the brown of it turning to blue, then green, then purple as the street passed him by, its light forming a colorful kaleidoscope on his features. 

She was completely starstruck, the ability to form words long gone from her, her entire brain focused on taking him in. Her lips parted, trying to muster a response to his question, only awed breaths falling from them. 

As he smiled back, chuckling at her silence, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, warming her face in the cold. The blush on her skin made his heart swell, though she would never know that. His smile falls for a second, his typically harsh features softening as they walk side by side, eyes never leaving one another. 

Not looking where she was going, her foot catches on something sticking up from the ground. She wasn’t sure what it could have been; perhaps it was an uneven paving stone, a discarded paper coffee cup, or even just her own clumsiness. Though, whatever it was, it had her falling to the ground fast. 

Long before she could recognize what was happening to her, a warm, leather gloved hand was gripping her forearm, halting her descent to the concrete beneath her feet. 

If she had been starstruck before, her head was spinning now, every nerve in her body feeling fuzzy in the proximity of the man looking down at her. At this angle, he looked ethereal, the moon above glowing on the back of his head like a halo. For just a moment, she felt he might sprout wings and fly her up to heaven. 

Swallowing, she feels him pull her up, standing her flush against him. The open hem of her jacket tickled his chest, sending a fluttering inside him. They were so close, almost close enough to feel his heart beat against hers. 

He scoffed cockily, his breath creating a misty cloud around him. When the fog cleared, he spoke, “Better watch where yer goin’, missy. Can’t have ya getting hurt on me, now can I?” 

The tenderness in his tone said more than his words had. What he meant to say was, ‘Please be careful, I want you safe,’ but the meaning got lost in translation from heartbeat to Japanese. 

Yet, she felt herself nodding, understanding perfectly what his original intention had been. 

***

His stirring on her chest brought her to the present. Hopefully he wasn’t getting up, she needed him there, weighing her down, keeping her grounded while her thoughts were anywhere but this Earth. 

Fortunately, Majima only sighs, his torso rising then falling under her still hand. He shifts slightly, his long legs moving against hers as he finds a new position atop her to lay. His head even shifts, hair rubbing against her chest, and nose gracing her night shirt. 

Staying still became harder and harder the more Majima moved. Every muscle in her body wanted to both tense and melt at the same time. Her heart beat so loudly against her chest, she could hear it in her ears. 

Looking down to the hand inside his, she bites her lip, trying to keep the quivering of it to a minimum. His grip on it tightens ever so slightly, and she is sure he knows she was staring at him. However, when she looks back to the screen, she sees fists flying and tensions rising, a sign that his grasp was only due to the suspense on screen.

At this she relaxes, feeling safe from his teasing for even just a moment. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice her nerves and have this moment end. 

Rotating her head gently, she looks up. The darkness of the ceiling seemed to reflect on her, reminding her that that was life before Majima; dark, bleak, flat, and devoid of all color and warmth. 

***

On days like these, she wanted nothing more than to just crawl up into a ball and fade away, her own existence crushing her like the heaviest burden there could be. It felt even hard to breathe, her lungs squeezing with sorrow. 

Yet, she trugged the streets, walking to the place she had promised to meet him. He wasn’t one for planning things but today was an exception he had said. Nishida told her he was feeling ‘uncharacteristically structured.’ So despite her aching being, she marched to meet him. 

He sat in the cafe, idly scrolling through his phone when she arrived. Meekly, she walked up to his table, feeling like being around him might be enough to soothe her soul. 

It wasn’t until she sat down that he looked up. All it took was that one glance from his right eye to bring light to her vision. Like stepping out of a tunnel, he showered her in sunlight. 

His lips turned up into a smile when he noticed her presence in front of him. He winked, shoving his phone into his pocket absentmindedly, right now, his only focus was on her. “Hey, darlin’,” he flirted, “it took ya long enough. Thought I might have t’ go lookin’ fer ya.” 

She mustered the strongest grin she could, forcing all her energy into imitating him, hiding whatever pain lingered just beneath the surface. Her own face felt so heavy though, and even just that simple action hurt, exhausting her to the bone. 

Even the most subtle change on her face was noticed by Majima. A lot of the time, she felt he could read her mind, see her soul. He always seemed to know what she was feeling, even when she didn’t know it herself. 

Her whole life, people only ever bothered to take her at face value, none dared to look beyond her mask; until him. He seemed to be the only person who could feel her, see her, and hear her the way she so desperately wanted to be felt, seen, and heard. 

Catching the pained expression she held, his smile fell, being replaced with one of almost shocking concern. “Wait, what’s wrong with ya? Ya look like half dead, sweetheart.” His brows furrowed as he studied her, eyes pushing back the veil to take a closer look. 

She only shakes her head, looking down in embarrassment. She never wanted to make him worry, to take away that smile she loved seeing. The guilt of his emotion pressed on her. 

He sighs, smacking the table with both gloved hands. “Well I can’t have ya sittin’ around all mopey like this,” he teases, sing song in his voice being exaggerated more than usual, like hands trying to lift her up. 

“Let’s get outta here,” he gestures with a thumb over his back. He takes a look around, scrunching up his face, “This place is a dump anyway.” 

He stands, looking down to her with soft eyes and a half smile. The sympathy in his features nearly broke her. He was so tender in the way he looked at her, trying to tell her ‘You’ll be okay, I’m right here,’ without speaking. 

A black hand extends to her, fingers spread wide open, awaiting her to place her own inside it. Shaking with anticipation and anxiety, she gives the hand what it wants. Gently, his glove closes around her skin, leading her to follow him into the street. 

Alone on the sidewalk and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, his voice lowers, losing all semblance of its usual insincerity, “How about I treat you to some takoyaki? You like yours with extra sauce, don’t you?” 

***

The loud music of the film’s end credits snap her from her thoughts. Glancing back to the television, she watches the white letters roll up on a black screen. The names of the actors and production team stare back at her, reminding her she hadn’t been paying attention. 

As the music fades, and the credits finish out, the screen goes black, casting the room in a peaceful darkness. Only peaceful because he was here with her, shielding her from its harsh cold and uncertainty. 

She feels him chuckle on her chest, muttering more to himself than her, “Shit, that was pretty damn good. Can’t believe that punk was some natural born kung fu master, never saw that one coming.”

With a sigh, he goes to unwrap his hand from hers and grab the remote to turn the TV off. He removes his arm from under her pillow to push off her and get up. Feeling his grasp on her hand loosen, she instinctively tightens her own, her other hand pushing his shoulder back down onto her chest. 

Majima huffs, falling back onto her. Craning his head to try and look at her, he grumbles, “Jeez, lady, what’re you doin’?” 

Her grip on him only tightens more, fingers digging into him, scared he might leave her grasp and disappear into the night. Not able to contain herself anymore, her muscles tense under him. 

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every sensation of him on her burning hot with a feeling she couldn’t describe. Feeling her heart swelling to almost burst, she breathes deep, a stinging in her eyes becoming more and more prevalent. 

She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, why all of the sudden she felt like a dam had broken inside her, emotion gushing through the cracks and drowning her on dry land. 

Yet, of course he could tell. He always did. Squeezing her hand in his, he mutters to her, voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?” he asks tenderly, “I know it kinda got sappy there fer a minute but that ain’t no reason t’ cry.” Repeating his action from earlier, his thumb ghosts across her knuckles. 

It could have been his physical touch or the way his words touched her soul but either way, that was the last crack in the dam. A sob erupted from her throat- hot, almost steamy tears cascading down her cheeks and onto the pillow. 

She only grips him tighter, near to drawing blood with her nails on his back. Her head finds itself leaning against his silky black hair, cheek pressing firmly onto his skull. Nose buried in his dark locks, she chokes, tears still flowing like a waterfall, “I love you, Goro…”

The words fell from her lips like a prayer. Like it was the only important thing she would ever say. It felt like a confession, though the time for all that had long gone by. 

In her moment of frail weakness, Majima is finally able to push off her, just enough to look her in the eye. Her vision of him was not as clear as usual, the water blurring him and barring her from seeking refuge in his eye. Had she not been crying, she would have seen the change in his face. It faded slowly from concern to ardor, plush lips pressing together. 

Lifting his hand, he reaches it to touch her cheek, hot and wet from her overflow. Wiping some of the tears off her, he whispers, “I love you too, babe. More than ya know…” 

Leaning in and capturing her lips on his, he seals his promise.

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #34

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: The penultimate chapter everyone, can you believe it? How far we’ve come together. Just as a little heads up, I will be uploading the last chapter of this story (🥺) in one go with the epilogue. So if you happen to see the epilogue first, know there is a ‘little’ (totally not little) chapter still waiting for you.

Thank you to everyone who let me borrow their OCs, I did a little round up of everyone in this chapter. Lizzie’s wonderful friends are belonging to:

Katriona ,KC’ Cassiopeia: @kc-needs-coffee

Judith Harris: @judediangelo75

Ira Janda, Julian Bennett: @slytherindisaster

Azariah Steele: @cursebreakerfarrier

Henry McClarnon: @thatravenpuffwitch

Also massive thanks to my favourite girl @the-al-chemist for helping with the structure and reading over. You know I love you 💛

Word Count: ~ 5.600

_______________________________________

Chapter 34: Victory

“Hufflepuff is this year’s reigning Quidditch champion!”

Murphy hadn’t even finished shouting into his megaphone when Skye, Lizzie and everyone around them erupted into screams of joy. Skye flung her arms around Lizzie’s neck, hugging her mid-air, half sobbing, half shouting “We did it! We did it!” into her ear over and over again. Lizzie didn’t even have any words to articulate the rush of emotions running through her all at once. She felt euphoric, happy, exhausted and unbelievably relieved that her plan hadn’t backfired on them. Syke was right, they had really done it.

They had won the House Cup.

Still hugging and jumping up and down on their brooms, Lizzie and Skye were slowly drifting downwards, landing roughly on the soft grass. The impact almost knocked them over but they couldn’t care less. They were basking in the cheers coming from the hollering stands, their grins so wide their cheeks were hurting.

Lizzie could see Skye’s father and Professor Sprout giving them standing ovations and even Professor McGonagall was clapping, albeit not as enthusiastically as the rest. Murphy was beaming from ear to ear, remaining silent for once and letting the team have the full attention of the crowd.

One after the other their teammates were landing next to them. Lizzie found herself hugging Judith and even Everett in her enthusiasm; all of their animosities were forgotten over the raw joy of achieving their incredible last minute win. In this moment what had happened wasn’t important anymore; the only thing that counted was that they had reached their common goal and the Cup was theirs.

And then, all of a sudden, Orion was there, his eyes shining with pride and a beaming smile on his face. He swept her into an embrace and spun her around, neither one of them caring the slightest bit what anyone else might be thinking. Lizzie was laughing as she held onto him, feeling nothing but elation; she couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment.

Orion sat her down and Lizzie was swaying for a moment, feeling slightly dizzy from being spun around, too much sunlight and the feeling of Orion’s arms around her. Still smiling, he raised his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her flushed skin. The expression in his eyes was so soft as they found hers, the butterflies exploding in Lizzie’s stomach seemed to fill her up completely; the fluttery feeling combined with the adrenaline rushing through her body made her feel as if she was still flying.

He opened his mouth to say something when a sudden movement to their side made both of them turn their heads; Judith and Skye had sneaked up on them and were on the verge of upending a giant barrel of butterbeer over their heads. Lizzie tried to move out of its way immediately, but Orion quickly got hold of her wrist and pulled her back.

“You’re staying right where you are,” he laughed before the ice cold liquid was hitting them. Lizzie shrieked and closed her eyes as the butterbeer washed over her face and found its way down the back of her jersey. She buried her face against Orion’s now soaked Quidditch robes and could feel the vibration in his chest as he laughed. She couldn’t help her smile widening as he held her even closer.

“I knew you could do it, Chaser,” he whispered against her hair.

Lizzie pulled away and smiled up at him; a light giggle escaped her as she was taking in their drenched state. “We did it all together.”

Orion gently brushed a strand of wet hair out of her face. “As a team.”

She covered his hand resting on her cheek with hers, her eyes finding his again. His long, dark hair was just as soaked as hers was, but he obviously couldn’t care less. Lizzie’s eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment; the soft smirk forming on them made her hold her breath. Her wish to kiss him right here and now was close to overwhelming.

But before she could give in to it, her gaze flicked over Orion’s shoulder to where she could see the members of the defeated Gryffindor team lying in the grass. The misery they were radiating was a stark contrast to their own overjoyed celebration.

She could see Julian comforting a broken looking Henry; Azariah was lying on his back, staring into the sky with a blank expression and the two Chasers were silently talking between themselves, shaking their heads in disbelief.

Charlie was sitting apart from them; his head was hanging low, his windswept red hair obscuring most of his face. The rest was hidden his hand covering his eyes, while the other was still clutching the Golden Snitch, that was gleaming in the sunlight.

The sight of her friend's devastation felt like a jab to Lizzie’s heart. Her face twisting with sympathy, she placed a hand on Orion’s chest and gently pushed him away. He followed her gaze with a slight frown, before he nodded in comprehension.

He inclined his head in Charlie’s direction. “Go to him; he is in need of a friend right now.”

Lizzie knew she should go and it wasn’t like she didn’t want to; she just didn’t want to let go of Orion again so soon. Sensing her hesitation, he gently nudged her forward.

“Go,” he repeated. “We’ll have our moment later.”

Finally breaking free of him, Lizzie walked past her teammates and towards the Gryffindors. She stopped by every one of them for a moment, either trying to cheer them up or offer some words of comfort. When she reached the lone figure of her best friend, she stopped and knelt down beside him.

“Hey.”

At the sound of her voice, Charlie raised his bleak eyes to look at her for a moment. “Congratulations, I guess,” he managed to croak out before hanging his head again.

“Thank you,” Lizzie answered sincerely. She put a hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently. “You put up an incredible fight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this before.”

Charlie shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Didn’t help much, did it? You won, we lost; there’s no way of talking around it.”

“It could have gone down either way; it was a matter of seconds.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I can’t believe I caught the Snitch only one bloody moment too late.” He choked out a bitter laugh and held the golden ball up for her to see.

“Looks like it’s me who gets the consolation prize in the end.”

He looked past her to her laughing teammates. “What are you doing over here anyway, champ? Don’t tell me you’re ditching your team for us moping lot?”

Lizzie sat down next to him onto the grass and nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m ditching my team for a friend who could use a bit of comfort right now,” she responded with a smile.

Charlie’s eyes trailed from her towards the Hufflepuffs again, who were busy hoisting a laughing Orion up on their shoulders.

“Even him?”

She had followed his gaze and nodded. “Even him.”

Charlie huffed but gave her a small grin, nonetheless. “That means a lot, Liz, thank you. But you deserved to win this time; you more than anyone.”

Lost in thought, Lizzie had been watching Orion celebrating with their friends. It was only now that she saw Charlie had been watching her in turn. Not sure if he was still talking about the match, Lizzie blushed a deep scarlet that almost matched Charlie’s robes; her flustered state made him grin mischievously.

“You’d better watch out though, pineapple,” he teased her, “there’s always next season. I’ll be damned if I let you defend that title; we’ll make sure the Cup gets back to where it belongs.”

Happy to see Charlie’s fighting spirit return, Lizzie dipped her head back and laughed. “Not if I can help it, Weasley!”

She scrambled to her feet and offered Charlie her hand. “Do I see you at the party later?”

It was a tradition to celebrate the closing of the Quidditch season with a big outdoor event down by the Black Lake. Generally considered one of the highlights of the years, it wasn’t only for the members of the winning House but for everyone in the school. As it was the last chance to have a bit of fun before the stress of their exams would take up all of their focus, most of the students had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Charlie, however, didn’t seem too thrilled at the prospect. He looked Lizzie up and down with a sigh.

“Would you accept a ‘no’ for an answer?”

“No,” Lizzie chuckled.

“Then I don’t think I have a choice, really,” Charlie smirked before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to march her back to her team. “I’ve got to celebrate my favourite badger girl, after all.”

*

Lizzie was probably one of the last ones left in the castle when she was finally able to make her way down to the lake. The sunlight had turned from bright to golden and was painting the landscape around her in an alternating pattern of light and shadow.

After the potion Ira had given her had worn off, the bone crushing hug from a sobbing Penny had made the pain of her injury flare up again with full force. When her knees had buckled from the sharp sting, Orion and Ira had been adamant she’d go to the Hospital Wing at once; her ribs had hurt too badly for Lizzie to even consider objecting.

Madam Pomfrey had been miffed when she had checked her up, muttering something about “This bloody Quidditch business” under her breath. To Lizzie’s relief, Ira’s initial assessment had been right and her ribs weren’t broken after all.

“I’d much rather you’d have come straight to me, Miss Jameson,” Madam Pomfrey had declared sternly. “Teenagers,” she had sighed,” always think they know better.”

She had been watching Lizzie reproachfully while preparing the ingredients for another painkiller potion, which was supposed to get her through the night.

Before she had left, Lizzie had made sure to check up on Brian; as it turned out, he wasn’t allowed to leave the Hospital Wing due to a mild concussion. He was miserable about not being able to celebrate with the rest of them, but otherwise he seemed to be alright.

“Kiss the Cup for me, will you?” he had asked her with a laugh as she had been about to leave.

Lizzie’s answer had been cut short by the scolding look of Madam Pomfrey, who had appeared by Brian’s bedside. “I thought there was an event you were desperate to attend, Miss Jameson,” she had chided her, albeit with the hint of a smile. “If you don’t want to spend the night here alongside your friend, you had better leave now before I change my mind.”

As she was walking along the path that would lead her to the Black Lake, Lizzie was enjoying having a little time on her own. It was a welcome change to the busy moments after the match, when her housemates had flooded the pitch and congratulations had been passed all around. It gave her the opportunity to let everything sink in.

They had won; they had really, actually done it.

Her team had come out on top; even after all the mess that had been going down this year, they had managed to get a grip and pull each other through. Lizzie felt overwhelmingly happy; never before had she been so proud of her team, of Skye, of Orion, even of herself.

She remembered the feeling of weightlessness when Orion had picked her up and spun her around; neither of them had cared about anyone else in that moment and it had felt so right; today, everything was feeling right.

Lizzie smiled to herself as she reached the shoreline, an unmistakable bounce in her steps. Whatever the evening might be bringing, she was looking forward to it; she had earned the right to just enjoy herself for a change.

When Lizzie heard two voices calling her name, she slowed her steps and turned around. It was Andre and Charlie, undoubtedly headed into the same direction as her. Tapping her foot in mock impatience, she waited for them to catch up.

Andre smiled brightly when they reached her. “Look who it is, Charlie.”

“The reigning Quidditch champion,” Charlie continued, now in a decidedly better mood after he’d had time to stomach the match. “May we escort you to your victory party?”

Both boys went up to either side of Lizzie and linked arms with her as they marched her along. She had to giggle at their overly solemn expressions.

“You may,” she laughed. “But why are you so late?”

Charlie rolled his eyes and jerked his head in Andre’s direction. “Someone needed to get dressed properly.”

It was only now that Lizzie noticed the giant badger on Andre’s blue shirt he was wearing under his jacket. She raised her eyebrows in astonishment and chuckled.

“That’s a really nice gesture, Andre, but that’s not quite the right colour.”

Andre merely shrugged, however. “I’ve got to uphold some housepride at least or else Erika might kill me.” He glanced down at his newest design. “That one’s risky enough as it is.”

*

As expected, the party was already in full swing when they arrived. Several stalls had been set up at the shore of the Black Lake and the houselves had given it their all to provide them with delicious food and drinks. They were all centred around a giant bonfire that was blazing brightly in the slowly descending darkness of the evening.

The stalls were decorated in yellow and black banners, as were the comfortable looking seats that had been grouped together all over the place. The image of the Hufflepuff badger was a common sight wherever Lizzie was looking. To add to the atmosphere, numerous strings of fairy lights had been put up in between the branches and down the stems of the trees.

The place was packed with laughing and chatting students; Charlie and Andre went to get something to drink and Lizzie found herself wandering around the site, looking for any sign of her friends.

She spotted the familiar strawberry blond head of KC over to the side of the bonfire. She was sitting in one of the cushioned garden chairs with a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. Her head was dipped back in laughter at something Rath had just said; knowing the tall blonde girl, it had undoubtedly been some wry remark about the course of the game.

Where KC was Murphy was never far and sure enough, he was lounging in the chair next to her. He was gesturing wildly towards the two girls with sparkling eyes, confirming Lizzie’s suspicion that they were indeed still talking about the match.

Sitting next to Murphy, Orion was attentively listening to the ongoing discussion. He was looking as deeply relaxed as Lizzie had ever seen him. As if sensing someone’s attention being on him, he turned his head. As their eyes met, a smile tugged at his lips and he motioned for her to join them with the smallest movement of his head. The shift of Orion’s focus didn’t escape KC; she nudged him with her foot before bending over to him and whispering something into his ear, making Orion laugh and shake his head.

Lizzie felt a smile forming on her face. There was nothing she would have liked more than heading over to her friends right now. For the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts last September, she felt completely certain of what she wanted; it was as if reaching their shared goal today had cleared her mind of all the doubts that she had been carrying with her.

But there was one thing she had to do first. Although it was incredibly hard to do, she turned her back on her friends and scanned the crowd for a different face.

After a moment, Lizzie spotted who she had been looking for; through a gap in between several groups of people, Lizzie could make out the familiar figure of Rowan. She was on her own and - just like Lizzie herself - she seemed to be searching the crowd as well. When their eyes met, they started walking towards each other.

“I’ve been looking for you!” both girls exclaimed simultaneously when they had reached each other, before they burst into laughter; it felt easy and carefree, almost like it used to be.

“Congratulations on winning the House Cup; you were amazing!” To Lizzie’s surprise, Rowan hugged her tightly. “Penny, Tonks and I were almost dying watching you play; what a match!”

A touch of worry flickered over her face as her eyes dropped to Lizzie’s ribcage, where the Bludger had hit her. “How are your ribs? Ira told us they’re bruised pretty badly.”

“She’s right, but nothing’s broken or anything,” Lizzie shrugged. “Madam Pomfrey gave me another painkiller potion for tonight, but it will probably hurt like hell tomorrow.”

Lizzie didn’t want to talk about her injury right now. She thought about how the whole school must have seen Orion embrace her after the match; Rowan must have done so, too. Lizzie was sick and tired of this ridiculous fight with her; she wanted to sort things out with her friend once and for all.

She took a deep breath. “Listen, Ro, we need to talk.”

Much to her surprise, Rowan responded immediately. “Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve been looking for you; I wanted to apologise.”

Lizzie had already opened her mouth to reply when her brain registered Rowan’s unexpected words. Not knowing what to say, she blinked in confusion.

“You want what now?”

Rowan’s gaze dropped to the ground and she rubbed her arm uncomfortably. “When that Bludger hit you and you were hanging from that banner, I was so scared for you,” she muttered quietly, her eyes still trained on the tips of her shoes. “I mean, we all were, of course; Penny even nearly cried. But Orion was there to help you immediately and even from the Hufflepuff stands you could see how afraid he was for you.”

Rowan raised her eyes to meet Lizzie’s. The different emotions shining in them were hard to pinpoint; it was a mixture of sadness, resignation and, strangely enough, something resembling relief.

“And seeing the two of you after the game was over…” Rowan’s voice trailed off and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s just so obvious how much he cares for you.”

Lizzie slowly breathed out, not quite daring to believe what she was hearing. “So you’re not mad?” she asked tentatively. “I promised you to stay away from him after all.”

Rowan sighed. “Yes, and you did. I’ll be honest with you, I really thought if we could just pretend like none of this had happened, it would make me feel better; and maybe even make the two of us better again, too. I was so hurt and angry at you; you are such an admirable person, Lizzie, so many girls want to be just like you,” Rowan sniffed and her voice broke slightly, “I just didn’t want you to have him on top of it.”

Lizzie felt her own voice becoming breathy. “You don’t have to be like anyone else, Ro; you’re perfect just the way you are.”

But Rowan shook her head and pressed her lips together. “No, I’m not. I deliberately hurt you to feel better about myself. But it didn’t work, I only felt bad for asking something horrible like this from you and making all of us unhappy in the process.”

Her shoulders slumped as she hung her head. “I acted like the worst friend imaginable, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Lizzie asked incredulously. “If anyone should apologise, it’s me. I never should have risked our friendship like I did, I should have been honest with you from the beginning.” She laid her hand on Rowan’s arm and smiled when she lifted her head again. “Believe me, Rowan, no matter what you think, you’re always important to me.”

She hesitated to go on and gathered her courage before she continued. “But Orion is, too,” she said timidly. “It’s not for show or about wanting to be with someone I’m not supposed to be with. I really care about him.”

“I know,” Rowan sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose, “I guess I was more intrigued by the idea I had of him than by him himself.”

An encouraging smile formed on Rowan’s face. “But you, Lizzie, you know him, the real him. Not the Quidditch captain or the guy who loves broom balancing and nebulous answers, just him. And believe me, you matter to Orion as well, anyone can see that; you two belong together.”

Not knowing what to say, Lizzie took a step forward and threw her arms around her best friend’s neck. “Thank you.”

She was more than relieved when Rowan returned the hug. “What for,” she laughed before letting go again. She placed her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders, turned her around and pushed her forward.

“Now go and find him before I change my mind.” Rowan’s eyes swept over the crowd and a concerned frown appeared over the top of her glasses. “I need to check on Tulip and Tonks, they were talking about tinkering with some firecrackers earlier.”

She adjusted the Prefect badge on her jumper, gave Lizzie another smile and quickly vanished in the crowd. Lizzie watched after her for a second before she turned around as well.

Just as she started walking towards where Orion was still sitting with their friends, Penny jumped on her out of nowhere grabbing her arm.

“There you are!” she squealed. “Where in Godric’s name have you been?”

Lizzie wanted to reply but didn’t get a chance before Penny forcefully dragged her towards a big group of people standing close to the central bonfire. She was constantly babbling with excitement. “He is here, Lizzie, can you believe it! Ethan Parkin is here. At our victory party! This is incredible, he is incredible, all of this is incredible!”

She tugged at Lizzie’s arm impatiently. “Come on now, he has been asking about you several times already!”

As they were approaching the huge crowd that had gathered near the blazing fire, Lizzie could make out Ethan and Skye standing at its centre. The House Cup was sitting next to them on the grass, its silver handles decorated with black and yellow ribbons. The giant trophy was coming up higher than Skye’s knees; when Madam Hooch and Professor Dumbledore had handed it over to Orion at the ceremony on the pitch, Lizzie had been able to see how he had momentarily struggled to lift it over his head; Lizzie and Skye had only managed to do the same when they had tried it together.

Now, Skye was glancing down at the Cup every now and again, still unable to believe she had finally achieved what she had dreamed of ever since. Her father, on the other hand, paid the glinting trophy no mind; his hand was resting on Skye’s shoulder, his face beaming with pride. He was talking animatedly to his awed onlookers; Lizzie could see Skye was blushing and trying not to roll her eyes. She sighed inwardly; Ethan Parkin was probably talking about his favourite subject: himself and his illustrious adventures with the Wigtown Wanderers.

But when Penny pushed them through the crowd towards the front, Lizzie was surprised to hear that Ethan Parkin wasn’t gushing about his family’s club after all; instead, he was recounting the course of their match in such painstaking details it could have put Murphy to shame. He took a special joy in painting all of Skye’s free throws, goals and special manoeuvres in the brightest colours to the adoring masses; her last move in particular had him bursting with pride.

“If you ask me, that Keeper stood no chance from the moment she got her hands on the Quaffle,” he was declaring just now. “It’s a special technique my Skye has, Parkin family secret, of course; just knew she wouldn’t fail her shot.”

He interrupted his monologue and his eyes lit up as they discovered Lizzie. He nudged Skye with his elbow.

“Look who’s here, Skye; seems like we finally found your missing mate. Wondered where you might be at, lassie.”

Lizzie motioned to her ribcage. “I had to go and get my ribs checked.”

“Aye, that one looked like it hurt. I know what a Bludger to the rips feels like, but let me tell you, a good player always pulls through, no matter what.”

He clapped a heavy hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Well done, lass, you did a fine job out there. You lot can learn from this one,” he proclaimed to his fans, still squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder. “Takes some strength of character to recognise when your teammate’s abilities are greater than your own; right decision of Lizzie to pass the Quaffle to Skye, it was the key to their victory.”

Like Skye before, Lizzie was trying not to roll her eyes. “If you say so, Mr. Parkin.”

“How often do I need to tell you, call me Ethan.”

Lizzie smiled noncommittally. “At least one more time, Mr. Parkin.”

He laughed jovially and turned to his fans again, recounting some other detail of their match; Lizzie wasn’t even listening anymore. Using her father’s distraction, Skye took her chance and pulled Lizzie away from the crowd for a moment.

Looking back over her shoulder, she rubbed her neck in embarrassment. “Sorry dad’s so enthusiastic. Don’t listen to him boasting about me, you were smashing today.”

“As were you,” Lizzie smiled.

A smug grin stole onto Skye’s face. “Yeah, we did quite a good job, didn’t we?” Seemingly out of nowhere her expression turned serious again. “But don’t you think I don’t know what you were doing.”

Out of nowhere Skye nudged Lizzie’s shoulder, maybe a bit more forceful than she had meant to.

“Ouch! What was that for!

Skye ignored Lizzie’s complaints. “You were at your favourite distance for that last goal; you always make that shot.” She set her index finger onto Lizzie’s chest to accentuate her words. “Don’t you ever dare to risk a win like that again, you hear me, Jameson?”

Before Lizzie could say anything in her defence, Skye had hugged her tightly. “But thank you anyway.”

Lizzie grinned when Skye abruptly let go of her only seconds later. “What’s that now, Parkin? Are you going soft on me or what?”

Skye huffed and laughed out loud. “You wish, Jameson!”

With a last genuine smile at her friend, Skye returned to her father’s side. Lizzie couldn’t help but smile to herself taking in the scene. Despite all the pressure he had put his daughter through, knowingly or not, Ethan was now looking down at Skye with overwhelming pride; Lizzie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Skye being happier than in this exact moment.

She stayed with the Parkins for a little while longer until Lizzie felt it wouldn’t be impolite to leave anymore. She was tired of Ethan’s constant droning, even if it was about Quidditch.

Lizzie was impatient to finally get her chance to talk to Orion now, but when she turned to the place her friends had been occupying earlier, she found it deserted; none of them was anywhere to be seen.

Not really knowing what to do, Lizzie started aimlessly strolling around the party, hopping from group to group, chatting with all sorts of people here and there.

So many happy faces were smiling at her as she moved through the crowd, congratulating her and clapping her on the back. Even her Gryffindor friends were seemingly enjoying themselves in this cheerful environment.

Lizzie could see Azariah laughing with Charlie and Andre, his arm draped around Ira’s shoulder; the curly haired Hufflepuff had her head resting against him and smiled from time to time. A bit further on, Julian and Henry were joking with each other, both raising their butterbeers in her direction when they saw her walking by. Sitting a little more secluded from the rest of the crowd, Lizzie could even spot Judith and her boyfriend Talbott; she was surprised to see the evasive Ravenclaw boy make an appearance at such a busy place, but then again, judging by the adoring looks he gave his girlfriend, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Judith.

Upon seeing all of her friends so relaxed and happy, a warm and fuzzy feeling was spreading inside Lizzie’s chest. As she leaned against a tree and took a sip of her butterbeer, however, she couldn’t help but feel a bit lost without having one of her own close friends to talk to.

Completely lost in her thoughts, the sudden sound of a familiar voice close to her ear almost made her jump out of her skin.

“Looking for someone, Chaser?”

Turning around, Lizzie found Orion standing behind her with a smirk on his face. Trying to ignore her wildly beating heart, Lizzie broke into a smirk of her own.

“What makes you think I’m looking for someone?”

“Aren’t we always looking for something or the other?” he responded casually, but the smile on his lips was mirrored in his eyes..

“I guess you’re right,” Lizzie mused, “but the someone I’ve been looking for is rather hard to catch tonight.”

Orion laughed quietly, the warm sound making Lizzie’s heart skip a beat. “I take it you’re drawing from your own rich pool of experience. You’ve been as elusive as a beam of sunlight this whole year; always visible, but impossible to get hold of.”

“Well, here I am.” She sighed in mock exasperation and rested her elbow on Orion’s shoulder. “But alas, the one I was looking for isn’t.”

Orion chuckled, clearly unimpressed by her teasing. Lizzie fought to not lose her composure as she felt his hand on her back, his touch giving her goosebumps all over.

“Is that so?” he whispered into her ear before drawing back again. “I fear you’ll have to make do with me.”

Lizzie tilted her head and grinned. “I think I can live with that.”

The atmosphere between them felt different; even when they had been nothing but friends, they had never spoken to each other in such a light, teasing manner before. However, this new dynamic felt completely natural. All the tension and strain that had hung between them for the better part of the year had vanished into thin air; Lizzie was loving every second of it.

Her breath hitched as she felt Orion adjust his hand on her back, his fingers grazing lightly over her spine.

“In fact,” he conceded, “Rowan mentioned you were looking for me.”

Surprised, Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “She did?”

Although Rowan had said she was alright with it, Lizzie was still glad to see that she had actually meant it. The thought of not having to lie to anyone anymore felt wonderful and strange at the same time.

“I’m as surprised as you are. I take it, the two of you were finally able to make peace?”

Lizzie sighed with relief. “Yes, neither one of us was what you’d call a perfect friend lately.”

Orion’s smile grew softer. “Perfection is a matter of perspective, isn’t it?”

Unable to think of a witty response, Lizzie’s cheeks blushed a deep scarlet and her eyes dropped to the ground. The atmosphere had shifted yet again, and she could feel the butterflies dancing in her stomach; she wasn’t entirely sure whether they were stemming more from nerves or excitement.

She was spared an answer, however, when a high, whistling sound suddenly cut through the air, directly followed by a mix of shrieks and laughter. The unmistakable cackling of Tonks and Tulip was clearly discernible above it; Lizzie recalled Rowan’s concern about seeing them meddling with some firecrackers.

Unimpressed by the commotion, Orion shot her a sideways glance. “What do you say, let’s leave the crowd to themselves and their fireworks for a bit?”

Lizzie tore her gaze away from the colourful sparks erupting over where the two troublemakers were undoubtedly working their magic and smiled at him.

“Sounds like a good plan, Captain.”

They left their spot under the tree and moved through the crowd that was flocking towards the commotion. Orion was walking in front of Lizzie, quickly gaining ground on her as the stream of people was thickening.

Breathing in deeply, Lizzie gathered her courage and lightly placed a hand on his arm before he was out of reach.

“Wait for me, will you?”

Orion looked back over his shoulder and waited for her to catch up with him. When she was closer, Lizzie let her hand travel down from where she had touched him to his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Her heart was beating frantically as she felt the slight pressure of his fingers against the back of her hand.

Neither of them saw the surprised looks they were attracting as they broke free from the crowd, nor the badly contained smiles of their friends as they passed them. And even if Lizzie had noticed, at this very moment, she couldn’t have cared less.

[anoutlandishfanfic]

The Alaskan Endeavor: Ch2 - Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

So, again, this chapter update (can I call them PUPdates? they’re now PUPDATES) is in celebration of another race that finished up yesterday morning -- the Kuskokwim 300 aka The Kusko300, which is one of if not THE most competitive middle distance race in Western Alaska. We’ll get to the pups and more about racing in the next chapter but HERE WE HAVE THE MEETING Y’ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.

You can find chapter one here or over at AO3!!

Claire That evening

The Murray’s residence wasn’t far from my flat above the Abernathy’s garage — nothing in this tiny hamlet was — and I decided to walk the four blocks, taking in a remarkable summer’s evening.

Joe had warned me that the shift in daylight hours was more extreme here in Kozebue — twenty-six miles above the Arctic Circle — than where we’d reconnected on Kodiak Island… and I had to admit he was right. I’d made good use of the black out curtains that were installed in the bedroom, shutting out the sun that insisted on shining well into the night and starting up again ungodly early in the morning. I knew I’d have no trouble making my way back on foot after dinner.

It would still be broad daylight.

I rounded the final corner and scanned the lane for my destination…

“It’s a blue house with white trim… second on the left,” Joe’s wife Gail had easily informed me, for the Abernathy’s and the Murray’s were old friends.

Gail’s eyes had held the same suspicious twinkle that Jenny’s had when she’d invited me for dinner and I had a sinking suspicion that I was about to be set up on a blind date, hosted by Jenny Murray herself. My new patient had mentioned she had a brother when she was in earlier and if I were the betting sort, I’d place my life savings on him being the man in question.

How on earth did you let yourself get roped into this, Beauchamp? I sighed ruefully to myself as I spotted the abode.

Crossing the street, I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my pounding heart as I got closer to the Murray’s front door. It was no use, of course, for it had firmly lodged itself in my throat about a block and a half back, and I was left trembling slightly as I mounted the front steps.

Wiping sweaty palms on my pants, I lifted my hand and knocked. Once — twice — three times.

… Jamie

“Can you get that?” Jenny shouted from the kitchen, the usual clamor of my nieces and nephew interfering but not obscuring her words.

Passing the youngest back to her father, I stood and answered, “Aye, I’ve got it!”

I wiped at the deposit of crumbs that wee Katie had left behind on my shirtfront, tugging at the hem in an attempt to flatten out the wrinkles pressed into it by the same. I shook my head and gave it up, knowing it was useless and that it shouldn’t really matter anyway.

Rolling my eyes at the ridiculous concern for my own appearance, I turned into the front hall and padded quickly down the plush rug to the door.

I turned the knob and pulled — then stopped dead as the door opened.

Christ, she was beautiful.

Her pale cheeks were slightly flushed, which made the small smattering of freckles across her nose stand out like brilliant stars. The curls were coming out of a plait that was draped over one shoulder and it gave her a delightfully adventurous air. She was a brunette like Jenny, but not nearly quite so dark. The light streaming in from behind her set brilliant copper highlights aglow as she flipped the thick queue away, making it disappear behind her.

One perfectly arched brow rose in question of me — and I knew I was staring — but the ability to form coherent speech left me entirely as her eyes locked on to mine.

Brown would be a woefully inaccurate word to describe such a hue as hers. They were rich like a fine whisky, a deep amber that all at once soothed and pierced your soul.

Pull yerself together, you clotheid.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure and took a step back, sweeping a hand to usher her in.

“You, ah, must be Dr Claire,” I stammered, my lips still not completely able to do my bidding. “I’m Jamie, Jenny’s brother.”

Comprehension lit her eyes and she chuckled softly.

God, that sound.

It sent shockwaves up and down my spine and stood the hair on the back of my neck on end.

What I wouldn’t do to make her laugh like that again.

“Tell me, Jamie,” she kept her voice low, a conspiratorial gleam sneaking into her eyes. “Have Jenny and Gail been playing matchmaker with us?”

Raking a hand through my hair, I confessed dryly, “They’ve been trying to set me up for years.”

She tipped her head back and laughed outright and freely at my confirmation, commenting, “I thought so, but then I’d only met your sister this morning.”

“I’ve known her my whole life,” I grinned back at her. “Once Jen gets an idea in her head, it’s best to let her have at it ‘til it peters out on its own... unless it involves that wee fiend of hers.”

Delicate, slender fingers lifted to her lips as the color deepened in her cheeks, amusement still high in her voice, “Are you talking about Roger?”

“Right! Yes!” It was my turn to laugh. “You’ve met the numpty yourself.”

She grinned, “I’ve had the pleasure, yes.”

“Did she tell you he’s a service dog drop out?” I shook my head in mock derision.

Her eyes grew as big as saucers, nearly dropping the bag in her hand as she burst, “No!!”

“Oh, aye!” I scoffed, but my smile crept back in and betrayed my amusement at the whole ordeal.

“Too friendly… and easily distracted.”

“Are you two done bletherin’ out here?” My brother in law Ian stuck his head into the hallway, succinctly interrupting us with a knowing look.

“The food’s gettin’ cold!”

… Claire

Tucked between Jamie and his seven year old namesake, dinner was far from a dull affair. Jenny proved to be a remarkable cook and the table conversation ranged in topics from a nuanced detail of racing — that is, mushing — to my favorite animal.

“Do you mean in general,” I tested the waters, assembling another forkful of roast and potatoes, “or in a specific class or order?”

The little boy’s eyes lit up and I knew I’d found a topic that he particularly enjoyed… which was a stroke of luck for me, being that animals and their care was my field of expertise.

Thank God it wasn’t dinosaurs.

“Mammals!” He eagerly narrowed the field, then zeroed in even further, “What’s your favorite African mammal?!”

“Oh, that’s easy! A giraffe!” I supplied, my smile matching his. “I got to see them in the wild, you know… in Tanzania.”

This caught the attention of the rest of the table and began to field questions left and right about my time on the Serengeti. I didn't mind, as they were happy memories, and soon won over both the younger Jamie and his five year old sister Maggie with tales of elephants and zebras and all of the animals they’d only read about in books or seen on television.

“Did you see any lions?” Little Maggie’s voice dropped into what I supposed was her version of a whisper — as if one were right beside us — and she nearly vibrated with excitement as she asked again, “Did you see any lions, Dr Claire?!”

I heard Jamie, the elder and my supposed date for the evening, chuckle beside me and I wondered just what sort of mischief this little one could get into when she set her mind to it.

“I did see lions too, Maggie,” I assured her, taking on her affected stage whisper. “We went in a truck at night and had big flashlights and saw them getting a drink of water.”

“Dey sirsty,” two year old Katie informed the table proudly, making all of the adults grin.

I bit my lip to keep from chuckling at her innocent attempt at being involved in the conversation, but agreed, “They get very thirsty.”

“How’d ye wind up in Alaska, then?”

This turn in conversation came from Jamie’s father, an older man by the name of Brian.

“I went to university with Joe Abernathy in Seattle,” I supplied. “We went separate ways after graduation but I ran into him again when I was visiting my uncle on Kodiak Island… Joe offered me a position at his clinic and I couldn’t refuse.”

“He’s done a lot of good wi’ that practice of his,” Brian commented. “Been a dream of his for some time now.”

Nodding, I smiled at the memory of Joe’s eager rants and rails, “He spoke quite a bit about it in school. I knew how much it meant to him and was eager to help him in his cause.”

“He almost worked himself to death before you came along,” Jenny snorted, then shot me an apologetic look. “Bein’ the only vet in the Northwest Borough made for long hours an’ no rest.”

“That’s why I wanted to come… to ease the burden a bit.”

“Well, then you’re a saint, Dr Claire,” she sighed, surmising with a shake of her head.

“No,” I assured her quietly. “I’m just plain old Claire Beauchamp.”

… Jamie. After Dinner.

“Wait just a minute,” I protested. “You walked here?!”

We were at the front door again, this time in full control of my faculties, but the woman before me was quickly turning out to be more of an complexity than I ever imagined possible.

Her brow furrowed at this, as if she hadn’t thought of the incongruity of her walking the mile from the Abernathy’s to here on foot.

“Yes… why?”

“Well, it’s… it’s just that…'' I stammered, flummoxed. “Don’t you have somethin’ to drive?”

“Of course,” she looked at me as if I’d sprouted five heads from my shoulders. “I have a perfectly good vehicle, but why drive it four blocks when it’s beautiful outside and I can walk?”

I opened my mouth to respond to this and found I didn’t have a reasonable answer. She found great amusement in this and crossed her arms, waiting for me to respond.

Shaking my head, I gave it up and couldn’t help but smile as I offered to walk her home.

This took her by complete surprise and her jaw dropped, “Why?!”

“Well,” I pulled at the back of my neck, trying to come up with something and shrugged helplessly, “like you said… it’s a beautiful evening.”

Her brows nearly rose to her hairline, not buying this for one moment.

“Look, it’s the polite thing to do, aye? I know you live at the Abernathy’s because Joe told me… I’ll leave just as soon as you’ve made it to the front door, I promise,” I insisted. “Nothin more.”

She contemplated this, then clarified, “Just a walk?”

I dropped my hands, swinging my hands away from my sides in a clearing motion and then against them again with a soft pat.

“Just a walk.”

[gejuro]

someone you won't talk about , itadori yuuji

summary he was your first love, your first kiss, and the first to break your heart

genre imagine ; angst wc need to add warnings heartbreak, break up, not edited

note yes this title is directly taken from falling by harry styles and what about it? please i'm crying in the club this song just hits different okay but another song that matches the energy in this imagine is i luv him. by catie turner if you want to check it out!!

"i think we should break up."

your heart, swollen with care and spilling from the sides with affection, splintered at his words. the hand that held his slipped from his grasp. it was as if time itself was ripped from your clutches as you tried and failed to process what itadori had just said to you.

"what?" your voice had never been softer, vulnerable. you were spluttering with disbelief. "what do you mean 'break up,' i thought we were, you were — you told me you loved me."

the air, cold already from the winter breeze, felt harsh against your skin, but tears gathered at your eyes and fell in warm droplets down your cheeks. the moon, caught in reflection, painted the canvas of your face in shine.

itadori felt pain tug at his heart, but he turned away. he buried his face further into the threads of his scarf. he had already made up his mind.

"let's break up."

you took in a shuddering breath as emptiness spread across the expanse of your body. this was happening. this was real. your boyfriend of nearly two years was finally breaking up with you, and he couldn't even spare you a glance or offer an explanation. suddenly the tufts of pink that sprouted from his head didn't seem like lemonade in the summer and the hoodies he wore, the ones that sat in your house, didn't seem like items of comfort anymore.

itadori yuuji sent ice straight through you, chilling to the bone and leaving a trail of hurt in its wake.

"okay. let's break up," you said.

and while you stood there, washed in the night's cold air and trembling from the pain of a freshly broken heart, itadori wanted nothing more than to console you. he loved you, loves you — present tense, but that's exactly why this needs to happen. he loves you to the farthest moon and back. he loves you so much that it hurts to be away. if soulmates existed, he'd agree it's you. in a heartbeat, it's you. it'll always be you.

but life is cruel, and the life of a sorcerer is worse.

itadori? he's seen it first-hand. he's tasted death, and he's felt life's grip loosen around him. he's felt it, and he's never prayed to a god before until then.

he's always been the type of person who jokes around a lot more than he doesn't. there's a smile on his face and always a funny little comment on the tip of his tongue, but he's never been more serious.

itadori loves you, and it's because he loves you that he's decided to let you go. tears threaten to fall from his eyes, but he can't let you see him like this. this was his decision, his heart-breaking, absolutely world-shattering decision. but the best one he could make.

"goodbye."

[innocentbi-stander]

I just saw one of your necromancer jaskier posts (which was absolutely amazing I might add) and it got me thinking... What were lambert, eskel, and vessimir's reactions to the whole necromancer thingy? and also have a wonderful day/night/afternoon 😁

Thanks for the ask! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed my necromancer jaskier content, it’s def one of my favorite to write! 

Hmmmmm lambert, eskel, and vesemir’s reactions to geralt’s necromancer bard would be... interesting

when eskel, lambert, and vesemir first heard the rumors about the bard following around a wolf witcher, they were Extremely Confused

geralt is most definitely the prickliest wolf witcher out there, and no way could they imagine him letting some foppish bard traipse after him around the continent

they wondered what kind of person would choose to live their life around a witcher, especially one like geralt

when they finally met jaskier they were momentarily distracted at how happy geralt seemed

the bard was full of energy, sunshine personified and a mouth that seemed to alternate between talking nonstop and smiling like there was no tomorrow

he wore bright colors and his eyes were the bluest they’d ever seen

and around him geralt smiled more than they had ever seen

jaskier seemed to have a special talent for making geralt laugh, and they were always touching each other, whether that was knocking elbows, jabbing ribs, tackling the other person, an arm around the shoulder, or play fighting

lambert asked geralt once if he was afraid he’d hurt the human messing around with him like that and geralt hadn’t even looked up from the sword he was polishing to say “no, because jaskier isn’t human. he’s a necromancer”

lambert’s mind went blank because...... what

much like geralt before he met jaskier, the wolf witcher’s only experience with necromancers were crazy assholes drunk on power

imagining the happy go lucky bard as a powerful being with the power to command the dead is a bit of a stretch

although looking back on a few instances throughout the past few weeks it does make a lot more sense

like the time lambert could have sworn he heard jaskier’s neck snap after a particularly daring tackle by geralt

or the conversations he’d heard him having around the keep with seemingly no one

the evening jaskier had been playing his lute after dinner and his feet seemed to move without touching the ground

or the time jaskier and geralt had been arguing and little fractures had formed all across the courtyard and-

lambert was an idiot. they all were idiots. of course jaskier was a godsdamned necromancer.

eskel and lambert mostly cope with this news by insisting jaskier join them in training both to teach him to fight with actual weaponry and to serve as an exciting new opponent

lambert’s never fought against an army of skeletons before but it quickly becomes his favorite winter activity

jaskier is particularly fond of ‘aard the bard’ but they have to start doing it in secret because geralt nearly has a bloody heart attack every time he sees his bard flying up into the air

vesemir, ever the curious scholar, is absolutely delighted to pester jaskier with questions about his powers and abilities

when jaskier sheepishly admits he doesn’t actually know that much not having had any kind of mentor, vesemir is quick to throw an arm around his shoulders and declare that they’ll just have to ‘find out together then’ with a glint in his eye that jaskier quite likes

(geralt would have it put on record that he does not like this, thank you very much, jaskier has a tendency for awakening a person’s desire for chaos and the last thing he needs is him and vesemir getting up to shit)

if geralt worries about jaskier and vesemir, the jaskier and lambert team up is one he never saw coming

lambert usually does not warm up to others, but of course he has to take a shine to geralt’s bard

its truly a match made in hell, jaskier is always up for trouble and lambert has an intense desire to always be creating it

and so that winter turns into a full out ‘how many times can we fuck with geralt’ war and geralt is Not Having It One Bit

geralt spends a lot of that winter chasing lambert around to beat his ass

he never quite gets around to doing the same to jaskier and he’ll never admit it but one look at jaskier’s big blue eyes is enough to melt geralt’s heart (the big softie) and make him forgive any sins jaskier may commit

all in all, when the spring time comes geralt has decided that Operation: Introduce the Family to His Necromancer Bard Boyfriend has been a roaring success and he can’t wait for next year, even if it means he spends months being pranked mercilessly, he know’s they’ll have decades more to come

and as he looks at jaskier, practically skipping down the path ahead, lute on his back and flowers sprouting around his feet, making idle chatter with a skeleton he accidentally summoned with a particularly strong sneeze, geralt knows he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if more content is needed, my prompts are always open!

[n-miri]

Spirit-touched!Tommy AU where Tommy sees what should not be seen. And, by being himself, circumvents the natural world order. 

-

Exile is fine. Living alone on an isolated piece of land, occasionally seeing the amnesiac ghost of his dead brother figure, having his items and hardwork blown up every week by his supposed ‘friend’.... Life in Logstedshire has been surprisingly peachy, all things considered. If Tommy closes both eyes, he may even say this is a vacation. Kind of. It could be an unpaid holiday, where he lost his job and cut off all ties with his family. It could be a- a retirement arc! An obituary about an ex-soldier’s cottagecore lifestyle. Except there isn’t a cottage. Plus, with a lot more TNT and ghosts over his shoulders. 

Literally. 

The summer sun beats down his back, filtering through floating particles of dust and ash. Tommy refrains from sighing. Another day, another stack of items destroyed. It’s annoying. He wakes up, goes through the repeated motions of create and destroy, ignores the ringing in his ears, and. Rinse and repeat. That’s all there ever is to it, right? He needs these tools to survive, and Dream wants the entertainment. He fights with his lives on the line, and Dream spits in his face. 

That man hides it well, but he can’t quite mask the glee that rattles through his collar bones, stifled pelts of laughter shaking his core. Dream is a master of deception and Tommy is far too perceptive—they see right through each other. If Dream is stained glass, unseeing eyes becoming windows to a desolate soul, then Tommy is tulle fabric, pulling back the veil between life and incorporeal. 

Dream is his friend, but Tommy doesn’t trust anyone with phantom arms growing out of their face. When they first met, there was a plain-drawn face upon a porcelain mask. A pair of inky hands peeked out from where the cheeks were supposed to be, patting his back when the two passed or brushing ghostly fingers through soft tufts of hair. It was endearing at first. The boy wondered why fucking ghost hands were glued to his friend’s face, but eventually grew used to the sight. They exchanged harmless jabs; Tommy called out Clay and Dream returned with Tomathy and things were good before Wilbur joined. 

Then Wilbur joined. During the first war for L’manburg’s independence was when the limbs started growing in length and joints. Hands covered the mask whole, spiralling darkness that ensnared nearby shoulders within a ferocious grip. However, most recently, the appendages have taken to growing eyes. Fucking eyes. Like some eldritch horror monster with bloodshot eyes crinkled mid-laugh. It was ugly. It was stupid. Worst of all, it scared the other ghosts away. Not fucking- whatever Ghostbur is, but the actual spectators. Stalkers. Weirdos (affectionate). 

Say what you want, but Tommy enjoys the company. Not that he would willingly admit it. 

“Good morning,” Tommy says into the empty field. There is no response. He sighs, then proceeds to hack up the inhaled soot. His throat is hoarse and his voice cracks at uneven intervals; he is thirsty but there’s no drinkable water left. Dream found his filter -wasn’t that a fun conversation to have-and he isn’t desperate enough to drink sea water. So, dehydration it is. 

Peering up into the cloudless sky, the male squints through the sunlight and bright blue vastness. Looks like there’s no chance of rain. 

Shame. 

A chill spreads across the skin of his elbow, despite it being wrapped in gauze. Tommy looks down and grins. “Hey, River. Nice day, innit?” The child gives him a watery smile, little twisted fingers curling into his tattered shirt. When a gust of wind breezes through Logstedshire, only the teenager’s blonde hair rustles along. “Sorry I can’t play today. I need to find water.” With a tilted head, they point towards the sea behind him. Tommy smiles wryly. “Preferably something less salty.” 

River tilts their head, contemplating. Choppy bangs hide their pupil-less, hollow gaze from roaming around the land. Then with a determined nod, they gesture for the male to follow. “Oh,” he says. “Hold on! Let me grab my things first.” 

Turning towards the bed of water, Tommy takes a deep breath and sinks into the shallow area. There’s some seaweed growing inconspicuously nearby, which acts as a marker for where he buried his chest. Funnily enough, Dream is a pretty easy person to hide valuables from. Or maybe that’s just Tommy being the biggest man ever, outsmarting the traceur in a battle of schemes. 

His fingers slip a few times while prying open the chest, but the inventory menu pops up and Tommy is quick to take the furnace, crafting table, half a stack of glass, an iron bucket and an iron pickaxe and sword. The downgraded version of the barest essentials. It’s safer to keep them here obviously, but it would be nice if Dream stopped destroying his items during every goddamn visit. Destroying them with TNT, of all things. Why not something quieter, like lava? Lava is nice. Lava doesn’t knock you off your feet if you are caught in the blast range. Lava doesn’t shatter your eardrums or destroy the ground underneath you. At least lava destroys objects completely, without any trace left behind. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe he still feels bitter about the diamonds Dream found and shattered, showers of crystalised pieces glinting against the firelight. The shining particles can still be found scattered across soil, if he looks hard enough; instead Tommy digs his hands into the dirt and covers up his blunders. It doesn’t help, not really, but seeing a physical reminder pains him. 

When Tommy breaks the water’s surface gasping for air, River stares at him worriedly. “I’m o-okay,” he coughs. “Let’s… let’s go.”

-

The first time he notices River, it’s a few weeks after being prosecuted and exiled; only a handful of days after WIlbur’s shadow gives him a compass. The compass, with a simple two words engraved into the cover. 

Placing the gift atop his open palm, Tommy walks in the direction a glowing arrow points at, only stopping at the sea line. Water laps frostily at his ankles, bare feet digging into coarse sand. Still, he fixes his stare onto the lonesome horizon. He won’t admit it now, or ever, but he desperately wishes that a wooden boat will creak upon this shore, paddles splashing hardly against the lulling waves; even the warping of the Nether portal would be welcome. Anything at all.

 He yearns for company, for companionship—Your Tubbo, the sea soothes. Your Tubbo, his heart beats for. Yours. 

Standing resolute, the boy imagines a crater and a country and a White House that stands still. The bench would feel firm under his fingertips, Cat humming its gentle tune by his side; his best friend would look around, fixated on the bees mulling about; and a red flower sprouts from the cracks of the Prime Path, dancing daintily with the wind. The boy would close his eyes, taking in the dewy air, and laugh at happiness itself. All would be good. 

Tommy stands until his arms shake and his legs quiver with loss. His eyes water and he wonders what the point of seeing is, if not to witness the conditions of his loved ones. 

In his hands, the compass point is nimrod straight. 

The next day, he finds himself drowning. A ghost’s freezing hands slap his cheeks, brittle arms wrapped around his torso, and frantically pushes him up, up, up. 

They don’t talk, or tell him their name, so Tommy calls them ‘River’. It’s only a little spiteful. 

[janiedean]

Oh hey Lavi, for the anniversary prompt how about the following options: A) Rickon telling stories of things he experienced on Skagos (and why he doesn't ride horses and unicorns only) B) Sweet Robin recovering from Lysa's awful parenting, him and Sansa meeting as friends when they're both grown up. Enjoy the hellsite anniversary :3

AAAND EXTREMELY LATE *spins wheel*

--

buy me a coffee | commissions open

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"Let me guess, we can give Lord Manderly's gift to Arya?"

Not that Lord Manderly will know either way and they do have an excuse - the mare he gifted to Rickon for his... supposed crowning is a truly wonder of a purebreed but she's barely been looked at and Jon supposes it would be a pity to waste her, but then again she is a tad too big to be ridden by a seven-year old... a regular seven-year old, but what Lord Manderly doesn't know won't hurt him.

"She can have it," Rickon shrugs as Jon follows him inside the stables where he's running his hands over the silky mane of... well.

His chosen ride.

A chosen ride that wasn't as huge when it arrived with him from Skaagos along with Osha, Lord Seaworth and a few other men plus Lord Manderly's fealty to Stannis, and good thing they managed to strike a proper agreement in between the whole lot of them, but now -

Now it's... something.

Jon imagines what would happen if someone was to ride it in a battle.

He's halfway sure it would be enough to half-win it.

"Humor me," he says, moving closer, wishing that - well. That a lot of things hadn't gone down since the last time they saw each other. No seven-year old should be this guarded, he thinks, and he's not going to blame Osha for having brought him in the only place no one would have looked for him, but still. If he's to be his regent, gods, Robb, why did you do it, but he knows why Robb did it and on one side he loves him for it, on the other he wonders what Catelyn Tully would think of it.

He has a feeling she didn't approve of that decision. Surely she approved of it less than his siblings, and for a moment he feels like crying, but -

Never mind.

"What's the difference? In between riding that and a horse," Jon adds when Rickon looks at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh," he replies, half-smiling, thinly, but still more than he did since Lord Seaworth brought him back, so - so that's fine, he supposes, "I could let you try." He considers. "But if you tried you wouldn't want to ride horses anymore and I don't think you want that."

"No," Jon shakes his head, "that wouldn't be convenient. But I still want to know."

Rickon looks back at the - at the unicorn in front of him, all black like Shaggydog, who is quietly growling as he huddles with Ghost in the corner, but - in an almost friendly way. And Ghost looks overjoyed to be reunited with his brother, so - good for them. It's large, and that mane looks silkier and shinier than a regular horse's, though it has harder eyes, Jon thinks, and the rough, huge corn sprouting from the middle of its forehead looks like it could impale a man or two.

"They're faster," Rickon finally says. "A lot. Sometimes it feels like you're flying, while they run. They gave me one a few days after we arrived."

"Did they?"

"Osha insisted," Rickon half-smiles. "That one died a while later, but it was old. It still ran faster than any other horse. Then I rode all the ones they had in her village. They gave me this one just before I left but they told me not to name her for a year."

"Why's that?"

"They say it brings bad luck," Rickon shrugs, "I don't know about that, but they'd know best, right?"

"Sure," Jon replies, "and how long do they live?"

"Oh, the first one I had was three hundred years old, they said."

Seven Hells. Does that mean they'll have a unicorn lingering in Winterfell for centuries, if she survives the Long Night? Well, Jon supposes, that can't be too bad.

"Good," he says, "she - she is impressive."

"I know," Rickon replies. "Not that Lord Manderly's was... well, bad. But she's not the same. And when I go inside her the way I do with Shaggy while riding it's just - a horse wouldn't be the same. It couldn't."

Ah, damn. He'll need to tell Rickon to not be so carefree with saying he can warg, and didn't he learn that lesson himself, but -

"I only can do it with Ghost," Jon replies quietly, "but I imagine it's... you see with her eyes, don't you?"

"Yes," Rickon nods, delighted, "and they can see so many colors, you wouldn't know."

Considering that when he's inside Ghost he can see less than he does as a human...

"I imagine it doesn't... compare with doing it with the wolves, does it?"

"Of course not!" He sounds almost outraged. "I mean, with Shaggy it's just different, but no, it's so many more than we do. And they shine so much."

"Maybe I'll go to Skaagos and get myself one then," Jon says, "wouldn't want to try with yours."

"Oh, there's so many of them, and you're friends with all the wildlings. They'd give you one for sure. I heard the other lords say they're bad but they're really not."

"People can be... stupid like that," Jon agrees, shuddering all over again. Understatement of the century, but maybe now that it's clear that they're facing impeding doom maybe they'll get over being prejudiced, he supposes. Maybe they can ask the Skaagosi to send them an army of unicorns. Now that would be interesting.

"I know," Rickon snorts, "I heard them say that they do all kinds of things on Skaagos, but they really don't."

"Like what? The, uh, -"

"Eating other people," Rickon replies with all the calm in the world, and what in the Seven Hells, Jon thinks, but then again didn't he and Robb get excited when as kids Old Nan would tell them stories about the Rat Cook and they were the same age? "Because they don't. I mean, they eat people's ashes after funerals but I don't think it's the same thing."

"They - do?"

Rickon nods. "They said it was so you could bring them with you or if they were good warriors you'd become as good as them."

"... Have you been to a lot funerals there?"

"Some," he says, "I mean, it was all old men, they burned the bodies under the heart trees and then ate the ashes at sundown. Then they'd have a feast in their honor that would go on all night. It was nice. Also they, like, they don't breed all of the unicorns. They capture them sometimes."

"Really," Jon shudders at the idea of taming a wild beast like the one in front of him. "And did you go with?"

"Osha brought me a few times with her friends. I didn't get close or anything but - I cheated."

"Oh, you cheated?"

"I said they could use Shaggy if they needed, but then I went inside him. I think Osha knew but she never said either way."

"It sounds... like you didn't hate it," Jon says slowly. Surely it sounds like he hates everyone staring at him like he's their last hope for House Stark to thrive more than he could ever hate being on Skaagos.

"It was... fun," Rickon admits, running his hand through the unicorn's mane again and again. "And people didn't talk to me weird."

"Weird how?" Jon asks, even if he suspect what the answer is.

Rickon shrugs. "Like I'm more important than you all are. Or like they expect me to... I don't know. To do your job already. Is it bad that I don't really want it?"

"Robb didn't want it," Jon says, "I don't particularly want it and Stannis Baratheon doesn't particularly want to rule the rest of the kingdoms regardless. I'd be worried if you did want it. And you won't have it for a very long time."

"Good," Rickon says. "I guess we couldn't... visit there again at some point?"

"Tell you what," Jon says, putting a hand on his shoulder, "after we deal with the wights we can - all just go there. Maybe we can leave Sansa to handle things here, I don't know if she'd like Skaagos, but - maybe we can go there and she can meet us at the Wall. Unless she wants to come and then she can, too."

Rickon grins back at him. "I'd like that."

Me, too, Jon thinks, and decides that if they get through this alive it's the damned first thing he's going to arrange.

Never mind that he thinks he does want one of those unicorns for himself.

[latetaektalk]

the one that got away | lmk

“you were the one that got away.”

genre: friends to lovers!au, fluff, angst

pairing: mark x reader

word count: 3.298

warnings: none

playlist: lonely shade of blue - nick leng, cruel world - faye

a/n: just something i wrote and wanted to get out there without overthinking it too much.

Mark didn’t know immediately, didn’t look into your eyes and knew that he was in love with you. It was by no means love at first sight. Instead falling for you, falling in love with you was a gradual and slow process, a process he didn’t know was happening until it was too late.

Being with you had been so easy and natural to Mark that it took Johnny asking him if he felt something more for you for him to realise that he, in fact, did feel a little (a lot) more for you. When he finally noticed his feelings for you, it had been far too late. 

There was no falling out of love with you anymore.

In hindsight, Mark could actually pinpoint the events that had him falling for you, but at the time he really hadn’t noticed at all. A part of him did feel incredibly stupid because, God, he should have noticed, should have known a long time ago.

Mark was certain that the seed of love had planted itself into his chest when he had first noticed how you would genuinely laugh at his stupidly bad jokes like they were the funniest thing you had ever heard. And there was no doubt in his mind that when you had only smiled at him when he got scared watching ‘The Shining’ and allowed him to hide behind your arm without a single word that the seed had begun sprouting. The seedling had started to grow after you had accidentally headbutted him when you were trying to learn how to skateboard. He had been holding your hands to keep you up and instead of being embarrassed after headbutting him, you had just laughed until tears brimmed your eyes. And the flower had started blooming in his chest when you had knocked on his door right at midnight on his birthday with a cake in your hands and a big smile on your lips, the candlelight pouring down your features like a golden and warm lake.

And it was even more impressive that the flower had survived in his chest, survived months and almost even a year ever since Mark first discovered it. It was a big surprise because even though Mark had been trying his hardest to keep it alive, he didn’t really have a green thumb or any real knowledge about caring for plants.

It should have died and withered a long time ago in his chest, but it hadn’t and instead only grown bigger and more beautiful every day, every day he spent with you.

And Mark knew he had to tell you about his feelings.

He knew that he had to, not even in the hopes that you would reciprocate them, but because you deserved the truth, deserved to know, deserved to know just how amazing you made him feel by simply being yourself, deserved to know that there was somebody out there that loved you for you.

But it wasn’t that easy, wasn’t as easy as Mark would like it to be, wasn’t as easy as TV and film made it look. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried at all, he had. 

Mark had walked up to you with the plan to tell you all, to wear his heart on his sleeve and spill the beans. He wanted you to know just how you made him feel, wanted you to know the amount of love sitting deep in his chest for you, but every time he tried, every time he opened his mouth to finally profess his love for you, Mark would get all tongue-tied. The words would fall short and his throat would constrict into a painful and suffocating lump.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because, God, Mark wanted to tell you so badly. He wanted to tell you so much that he had made it his New Year’s resolution, his one and only New Year’s resolution, to tell you how he felt by the end of January, but just like with any other New Year’s resolution, he gave up on it after barely a week.

And now, you two had graduated.

“We’ve finally done it, huh? Finally graduated,” you said and kicked a tiny stone back and forth. Mark glanced at you and a smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he watched you wrinkle your forehead.

“Crazy,” he exhaled and picked on his pants while sweat collected on the back of his neck and his heart continued racing in his chest like it was about to explode.

Mark couldn’t quite believe it, couldn’t believe that high school was finally over. The past four years were a rollercoaster and even though there were times where he just wanted to get off and run away, he did enjoy the ride.

And you were a big reason why. Mark couldn’t imagine a day he hadn’t spent interacting with you in some form, couldn’t imagine a day you and he didn’t end up laughing until tears brimmed your eyes, couldn’t imagine a day you didn’t brighten, sweeten up.

So, it was odd and weird and incredibly difficult for Mark to sit here with you on this bench and stare at the empty campus weeks after both of you had received your high school diploma without feeling gloomy, sad and incredibly regretful.

Mark looked at the cracks in the pavement of the campus and remembered how you had tripped once and ruined your knee on it, looked at the gate he would always stand at and wait for you to finish up class, looked at the piece of lawn that had eroded off because he and you would sit underneath the big eucalyptus tree whenever the sun would burn a little too bright, looked at the bench you two were sitting on right now because that was your bench, looked at the faded ‘Mark’s and Y/N’s bench’ you had written on with sharpie when you two were just juniors. 

“I think I might miss this,” you mumbled quietly and shook your head at yourself rather than anything else. “I can’t believe that it’s time for college already.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mark hummed in agreement and puckered his forehead at the thought of not sitting in class with all of his friends in the dimly lit and cold classrooms. His heart was still racing, quickening as he thought about your words.

Mark was going to miss it, miss being able to look over his shoulder and lock eyes with Johnny or Renjun or (more importantly) with you, miss bullshitting his way through a presentation he and you had haphazardly finished during your lunch break because both of you had spent yesterday watching every horror film you could get your hands on, miss meeting up with his friends and you to go study, but end up talking the hours away until the librarian would inevitably throw you all out for being a little too loud, miss skipping classes on the most beautiful days with you to go find the best pancake or waffle or ice cream place or whatever your new obsession was.

But he was going to miss-

“I’m gonna miss you.”

-you the most.

Mark couldn’t bring himself to look at you, couldn’t turn his head and look you into your eyes when you spoke up again. There was a painful knot sitting deep in his throat and he had trouble breathing. His fingers were itching for you, itching to hold your hands, but all he could do was press them against his thighs to stop them from trembling too much. 

Your words hurt and hit him, cut into him like a knife. They were like daggers pushing through his heart and leaving gaping holes behind. They deepened the feeling of sorrow and regret in him and for once, Mark wished he could turn back time, wished he could have just a little more time, a little more time and courage so he could tell you, confess earlier.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Mark finally whispered, words slipping past his lips quietly and you looked at him. “It’s not that bad, right? I mean, sure, we won’t see each other or hang out every day like we have for the past years, but it’s just half an hour. It- It’s really not that bad. We’ll survive, right? Just because we’re going to different colleges, it doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends, right?”

You didn’t say anything, but Mark was too nervous and worked up to actually notice your silence and lack of response. If he had, he would have known, known that something was wrong, but he didn’t. 

Your feet pressed into the ground and even though he wanted to, Mark couldn’t bring himself to look at you. And in those few seconds of silence, it felt like his heart in his chest was going to burst through his rib cage and walk away from him because he knew you were waiting for him to look at you.

When Mark finally somehow willed himself to turn his head to you, finally somehow willed himself to look you in the eyes, finally somehow willed himself to face you, he knew that this, this, was truly his last chance right now.

And even though Mark had attempted so many times to tell you how he feels about you, this time he could actually feel the courage built up inside him, could feel the words start to dance on his tongue, could feel the lump in his throat finally unfurl.

Maybe it was because you looked so beautiful with the way the sunlight poured down your features and the way your lips were all glossy from your lip balm or maybe it was because you both had finally graduated. Whatever it was, Mark knew that this time he was going to tell you, tell you how he feels about you.

“I have to-”

“Wait.”

You looked at him with your mouth agape and if Mark hadn’t been so busy with looking around before finally finding what he had searched for, he would have seen that something swimming in your eyes, would have seen the way you looked at him, would have seen the way the corners of your lips were turned downwards.

Mark bent down and picked the closest and incidentally the most beautiful little daisy he could find before handing it to you. You took it, looking at it before looking back up at Mark and it was then when he let it out.

“I love you.”

The three small words sat between Mark and you, filled up the air, hit your ears in a soft whisper. Your eyes softened at them, softened in a way he had never seen before. And it was in the way the corners of your lips curled up that had Mark’s heart cracking and breaking.

“Mark,” you whispered softly before looking back at the daisy in your hand and placing it gently next to you on the bench.

You put your hand on his, squeezing as you shook your head at him and Mark knew, knew he had messed up, knew he should have stayed silent. His heart had just been begging him, begging him to admit the truth to him and he couldn’t not listen to it, just had to say it.

“I really wish you had told me sooner,” you whispered and leaned into Mark, head hitting his shoulder. You stayed there for a while, stayed with your forehead pressed against his shoulder and Mark felt the courage wash away, felt the words dry on his tongue and turn it itchy, felt the lump grow back, bigger than ever.

“God, I wish you had told me so much sooner,” you choked and lifted your head, gaze meeting Mark’s in an instant. And aside from the tears, he saw something else in your eyes. 

“Oh my God,” Mark whispered before leaning back to look at you better. It was then while he was looking into your eyes that he remembered, remembered so clearly that it was almost unfair that he only remembered now, now that he had finally told you how he truly felt about you. “You’re moving.”

You screwed your eyes shut and it was the confirmation Mark needed to know that he was right. He couldn’t even scoff or express his disappointment in any way because after all, he had been the one that had waited so long to finally tell you, because after all, he was to blame.

Mark remembered how you had mentioned it before, remembered how you had mentioned that you were contemplating applying to this prestigious university across the country, but at the time, you had been unsure, unsure because it meant you would have to change your whole life, would have to leave your family and friends behind, would have to move away. And Mark also remembered that he had been the one that encouraged you to apply, encouraged you to give it a try and not worry about anything else.

His gaze shifted away from you and instead he stared at the campus in front of him, stared at the campus both of you had called yours for the past four years.

“How long have you-”

Mark couldn’t bring himself to finish the question, words sitting heavy on his chest and he really thought he might suffocate.

“I got the letter a few weeks ago,” you said quietly and Mark snapped his head at you, but instead of looking back at him, you stared at your hands and pressed your heels into the ground like you wanted to dig a hole for yourself.

“I couldn’t tell you, not you,” you shook your head and Mark knew from the trembling of your voice that you were on the verge of tears, “I- I wanted to. I knew I had to, but I- I just couldn’t.”

Mark wanted to reach over and cup your face when he watched you swipe the tears away, fingers dragging on your cheeks too harshly. He wanted to tell you not to pull on your skin so much, wanted to show you how to do it properly, but his hands were glued to his side. His mind was still processing everything that had just happened.

“Is that why you wanted to meet up here?” Mark asked and your eyes locked with his for just a second before you looked away and stared at your hands again. Mark’s gaze stayed on you and you didn’t have to confirm it for him to know. After four years, you were an open book to him.

“You mean so much to me,” you started to curl up into a ball, “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, couldn’t ruin the rest of our time together.”

“When are you going?”

Mark watched you screw your eyes shut, watched you press your lips together in an attempt to swallow the words, but you couldn’t, couldn’t because you knew he deserved to know. So you turned your head to him and met his gaze even though it hurt you, even though your heart cracked just like his when you did.

“Tomorrow.”

Tears, hot and painful, spilled from your eyes and down your cheeks. A sob banged on the walls of your throat and you could feel yourself breaking and hurting more and more.

Your fingers curled around Mark’s and your knuckles turned white around his hand. All he could do was turn his palm and wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing back in an effort to make this easier because he hated to see you like this.

Mark wanted to tell you that it was fine, tell you that you shouldn’t cry, but he couldn’t, couldn’t because he didn’t want to let you go, wanted you here. 

“I’m so sorry.”

You sniffed and sobbed your way through the words.

“Do you love me?”

Mark still wanted to know, still wanted to know if he and you could have been something, still wanted to know that if things had turned out differently, if he and you would be in each other’s arms right now and giggling instead of crying.

“I love you.”

Never did Mark imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would hurt so much, imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would break his heart into literal pieces, imagine that hearing you tell him that you loved him would tear him apart and leave him empty and gutted.

“You do?” Mark whispered, voice breaking as he watched you crumble apart in front of him. You forced yourself to look into his eyes and when you did, you saw the pain in them, sparkling in the sunlight.

“So much.”

The corner’s of Mark’s lips turned up into the most beautiful smile he could muster up right now.

“I do, too,” he murmured and before a new wave of tears could hit you and stream down your face, Mark leaned forward and captured your lips. 

They were soft, soft like clouds, soft like he had imagined how they would be every time he watched you put on lip balm, but they weren’t sweet like he thought they would be. Instead, Mark tasted the tears on your lips, tasted the salt, tasted the pain rippling through you.

Your hands found Mark’s neck and you instinctively pulled him closer, closer because that was all you wanted right now. And maybe you were just tasting your own tears or maybe you were tasting Mark’s tears that he hid from you by pressing his lips against yours, but you could taste the salt on the tip of your tongue.

With one hand, Mark cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin lightly to wipe away the tears that continued to run down your face and with the other hand, Mark held you close to him, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer.

This was definitely not how either of you imagined your first kiss with each other was going to be like, but there was no changing of it, no undoing the circumstances. You were going to go, were going to move away, had to move away and you two just had to accept that.

And when Mark and you finally pulled away, you looked deep into each other’s eyes, looked at each other like you were each other’s worlds and maybe you had been for the past four years, but now it was ending, coming to a beautiful albeit bittersweet end.

Mark reached over and took the daisy again before gently tucking your hair away. With delicate fingers, he put the daisy behind your ear. He and you locked eyes and there was this satisfied smile pulling on the corners of Mark’s lips.

“I’m so happy for you,” Mark lied through his teeth and even though he could see that you knew, you let the corners of your lips curl up into a smile, tears brimming your eyes again. 

“Thank you.”

You skimmed the daisy with your fingertips before lacing your fingers with his and holding onto Mark’s hands like your life depended on it. And a part of you, a part of you really did feel like it did, did feel like if you let go, your world would crumble apart and you knew Mark felt it too by the way he was squeezing and holding your hand.

And in that moment of silence, in that moment of silence where you both just stared at each other, you knew, thought the same thing, had the same words dancing on the tip of your tongues.

You were the one that got away.

→  links don’t work, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts/feedback! i’d love to hear it!

[thoughts-of-a-bibleophile]

family

not me jumping onto the shusumi week train when there’s only a few days left 

i apparently used all my braincells to make this fic and saved none for the title

i...was very much possessed by a writing ghost when doing this. i was just reading some fics and suddenly had the idea for this and then an hour later, i had this fic. i was actually going for seasons when i first wrote this, but it very much turned more into a family piece, so here we are.

i’ve been a persona fan since about 2018, but this is my first work and, honestly, i’m really surprised it’s not shuake/akeshu since they’re usually my main ship. but the beauty of multi-shipping is that i can also love shusumi! i just think they’re really neat.

also, gonna be honest, i... think? this counts as shusumi? even though the focus is a lot more on family than anything else. i wanted to do a more internal piece about sumire and her thoughts after the events of royal, which i think i more or less got across here. there is definitely some shusumi in the end, though!

anyway, without further ado, i hope you enjoy!

if you’re in this tag, you probably don’t need this, but just in case: ***persona 5 royal third semester spoliers ahead!***

word count: 1.6k summary: sumire visits kasumi a year after the accident and reflects on everything that’s changed in the last year.

no beta, we die like men (i’m sorry in advance if there are mistakes, though!)

“I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

It was spring. The trees were green and blooming with flowers, the air perfumed with their sweet scent. Below them, rows upon rows of stones lined the grass, gray and somber, though some holding a pop of color from leftover flowers. A lone girl stood at one, clutching her own bouquet in hand, sakura petals clinging to her red hair.

She should be with her friends right now, celebrating their graduations and having their going away parties. But she couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened. Not without telling Kasumi first.

Of course you’d be the stick in the mud who had to ruin their days, a far too familiar voice seethed in her mind. She did her best to ignore it.

She bit her lip, wondering where to begin. How to begin. So much had happened that it seemed almost like a dream.

“I don’t even know where to start, but I guess the beginning is better than nothing, right?” Sumire sighed. “Honestly, you were always better at this than I was, but I’m going to do my best.”

And so she began. From living life as Kasumi for so many months to cope, to her short time as a Phantom Thief and battling monsters they had only heard of in storybooks, to her days of being lost as Sumire and denying the truth, to finally accepting herself with the help of her friends and-

“Akira...” she trailed off and felt herself smiling just at his name. “You would have loved Akira. He’s the one who was there through it all. He met me as, well, you, but he still likes me as Sumire and-“ She felt her cheeks warm, thinking of his ridiculous, yet romantic antics since she had blurted out that confession. And the fact that he had reciprocated-

Sumire shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and her blush. That was a story for another time, another visit.

“Anyway, he’s actually the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but he also goes to Shujin. Things didn’t start out that well for him there, but he faced it all head on and did some incredible things. And he met so many people and has so many great friends.”

She paused. “Well, I guess they’re kind of my friends, too, now.” She shrugged to herself. “I wish you could meet them, Kasumi. You would fit right in, as usual. They’re all so kind and caring and funny and- I never thought I would meet people like them. Like I know you always had amazing friends, but for so long, I didn’t think I would ever meet people like that.”

I didn’t think I deserved friends like that, the thought rose in the back of her mind.

The stone in front of her said nothing. Not that she expected it to, but it felt nice talking to it anyway. She played with the edges of her bangs, lost in thought for a moment.

“But...that’s in the past.” She gripped the flowers in her hand tighter, her voice rising as her resolve hardened. “I made a lot of mistakes before, Kasumi, but I’m not going to make them again. I’m going to live my own life and make our dreams come true as Sumire Yoshizawa!”

Again, the stone said nothing. Her words hung in the air for a moment, only to be blown away by the breeze. She fiddled with the violets in her hand.

“I thought you’d like these. I know they’re your favorite.” She tried to smile, only for it to fall moments later. She tried to swallow the lump quickly forming in her throat.

“I know I didn’t tell you this when you were here, but I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” Her throat felt tight, her chest hollow, like something had carved a hole into it, never to be filled again. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her head dropped, the old familiar feelings of guilt and despair slipping through the walls she had carefully built back up the last few months.

“I feel like I’m messing this up; I was never good with speeches like this.” She sniffled, pulling off her glasses to swipe at her eyes. “I just wish you could be here somehow.”

She closed her eyes, wishing just for a moment, for a sign that her sister was listening. The spring breeze picked up again, rustling the leaves of the trees around her. She opened her eyes to see the petals spinning in a circle, almost like they were dancing in a swirl of pink. It reminded her of the pink ribbons she and her sister had first practiced with, of dancing with her friends and of gymnastics and everything that she loved.

Perhaps it had been simply a coincidence or perhaps she was making something out of nothing, but it was enough. It was a reminder to live. To live their dream, to live her life.

Sumire smiled and sighed when the petals fell back to the ground as the breeze lessened.

“I’ll be back soon, Kasumi. I’m going to a graduation party for two of my friends! Makoto and Haru, I’ll tell you more about them next time.” She placed the flowers carefully into their designated spot. “And I’ll make sure to bring new flowers next time, too! And... maybe I’ll bring Akira next time. So you can meet him.”

With nothing in her hands, she fiddled with the hem of her coat, feeling like there was something left to say still, despite knowing that she likely didn’t have much time left.

“I don’t know what’s coming next, but I know you’ll be there with me, Kasumi.” Pink flowers fell on the gray stone and for a moment she could imagine them caught in brown hair instead. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that, but I’m glad I know now. I really am going to do my best to make our dreams come true, Kasumi. And I’m going to keep on going and live my own life! I promise.”

With a firm nod to herself, Sumire cast one last look at her sister’s headstone before returning to the walking path. Sakura blossoms covered the top, with purple violets at the bottom. Small sprouts of white flowers had begun to bloom at its base, leaving little gray showing through. Colorful and full of life, just like Kasumi.

Sumire turned back to the pathway and made her way back down to the entrance, full of hope for the future to come.

-

At the entrance, a boy with black hair and glasses stood, lost in thought, his hair covered in sakura petals as well.

Whether it was from leftover abilities from the Metaverse or he was just that perceptive - she was betting on the latter - he turned toward her as she descended the last few steps down to meet him.

Akira said nothing, just opened his arms to pull her close and rest his chin on the top of her head. She sank into the embrace, feeling the heaviness in her heart lighten just a bit. His hugs were great, but they weren’t magic, even if he liked to say they were. They had a long road ahead, especially her, but she knew they could get through it together.

“Thank you for waiting,” she said, more into his coat than to him. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s fine. I knew it was important.”

Sumire tightened her arms around him, nestling further into his chest, wishing they could just stay like that forever. But she knew that wasn’t possible, so instead, she looked up.

She had seen a lot of his smiles in the time she’d known him, but she’d only seen this one once before. It was on Valentine’s Day, when his usual smirks and grins had softened into the one he wore now, a quiet little thing that held such care and love that it made her heart clench.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

She blinked at him. “Why?”

“I know how hard it was to handle everything, let alone talk to your sister about it. But you did it. That takes a lot of guts, Sumire.”

She felt her face redden and that soft smile edged slightly into his familiar grin.

“I-It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she stammered out. “I mean, I wouldn’t have had the guts to even come here if you weren’t with me, senpai, and even then I didn’t do anything that special!”

Akira laughed, probably at how easy it was to still make her blush around him. He was so annoying sometimes and he knew it.

But then he was serious again and searched her eyes for a moment.

“Are you going to be okay? We can always just stay at LeBlanc and watch movies if you don’t feel up to the party later.”

Sumire shook her head, feeling more okay than she had in a long time. “I want to go and be with our friends. I’ll be okay.”

He smiled and kissed her, a simple, short thing that had done a dozen times at this point, but it never failed to make her head spin and her heart sing.

“If you’re sure,” he said as they separated, only to link their hands as they walked to the station. She squeezed it and felt herself smile, more of the heaviness in her heart lifting at the thought of seeing her friends soon.

“Time to celebrate!” she cheered into the early April sky, the sun seeming to shine brighter in agreement. Hand in hand, they ran toward the station, to meet their friends and celebrate the start of something new.

-

so that was sure something. i hope you enjoyed it?

sorry, it’s not on ao3 - i just...have not set my account up, so all of my fics are very much just vibing on tumblr. one day i’ll finish setting up my ao3.... one day...

anyway, let me know if you like this! i honestly have no idea if i’m going to be doing any of the other days, but we’ll see.

[curetapwater]

My turn to subject you to The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known:

In both art and writing, you seem to have taken inspiration from Monster High, Bratz, Equestria Girls, Barbie and probably some other stuff in that realm that I can't recall because I wasn't in that sphere growing up, plus the more obvious Magical Girl inspiration. In fact, I feel like every character in Power of Rock is a bit of a homage to each one of these, both separately and in general. I don't know enough about any of it to pinpoint with precision, though.

but I'll take a wild guess and say your favourite EqG movie is Rainbow Rocks, followed by the Legend of Everfree.

You're spot on, especially about Rainbow Rocks! In fact, Power of Rock arose from an mlp fanfic I'd been kicking around since I was 11 years old! Now, as I talk about this, please bear in mind I've been developing this story since middle school so things get kinda wacky.. Star started out as Twilight and Sky started out as Rainbow Dash. The rest of the characters have nothing to do with mlp, unless you count Crescent being partially inspired by a friend I had in middle school with whom we bonded over our shared mlp hyperfixation. I see how one could interpret her as Pinkie Pie though.

Rainbow Rocks in particular was a gigantic inspiration! I fixated really really hard on it when it came out, partially because I had a major crush on all of the Dazzlings plus human!Rainbow Dash and partially because that's when I was getting really into rock music. I'd listen to music and always imagine my in-name-only fanfic versions of The Rainbooms playing the songs and casting spells with their instruments. I was so enchanted by the concept and at that point had realized that the thing I'd created was so far removed from mlp that I scrapped the mlp angle entirely and zeroed in on the rock band element.

Star originally arose as me realizing that Twilight had an incredibly privileged upbringing and thinking that it'd be funny if she acted like a spoiled brat that was full of herself. By the time she became Star, I'd fleshed her out way more and softened her up to be less arrogant and more confident in an endearing way. Aesthetically, she takes the most from the influences you brought up, especially Bratz and Barbie!

Sky is a subject I'm gonna have to tiptoe around because the only thing that ever stayed consistent about her is also a spoiler. But although the logic behind how Rainbow Dash became Sky seems pretty straightforward, I promise you the story is wild and insane and omg I'm honestly shocked that I was able to make Sky into a good character 'cause... omg I don't even know where to start haha. To give a taste of what she was like when her name was Rainbow Dash, I'll say she got infused with demon blood as a child and it ~haunted~ her afterwards and she was ~sooo angsty~ about it. And then I removed all demon stuff from the story along with pony stuff and decided to tone things down by making her a vampire instead (because vampires are cool, something Monster High convinced me of!). But with the demon stuff also left her ~tragic backstory~ that I'd based her entire character around and after losing that I realized I was left with nothing that made her interesting. Then I listened to Escape From the City from SA2 and thought, "hey, Sonic is a cool and endearing character, what if I inserted a little of his rebellious spirit into Sky?" And then her current backstory sprouted from that point and shaped her further into a far more distinct character that I love writing for. She's naturally the most Monster High inspired character in terms of aesthetics but I also drew from punk and pastel goth fashion for her.

The rest of the main characters are heavily retooled transplants from a scrapped WIP of mine, complete with visual redesigns inspired by all the influences you listed!

I tend to consume a lot of children's media like the ones you brought up, plus kidcoms like Hannah Montana and iCarly, and I wouldn't be surprised if that influenced my writing style, especially dialogue.

The stories I could TELL about how Power of Rock came to be, my goodness! And the art... oh god the art........ I drew some bomb outfits from when they were still the Humane Six but my anatomy was AWFUL so I'm unsure if they'll ever see the light of day.

You're right about Rainbow Rocks being my fave EG movie, in fact it may be one of my favorite mlp things period because of what it's led to in my life! Shine Like Rainbows is enough to move me to tears. My second fave is actually the first one, for nostalgia reasons. Legend of Everfree I only watched once but I should give it another look!

[webslinger-holland]

The Royal Family | Chapter One

Summary: When two royal family’s decide to conjoin their countries, they arrange a marriage between their eldest children. Once the two royals meet, it takes a lot of convincing before they are ready to begin their reign together...

Warning: mentions of war and mentions of arranged marriage

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Type: The Royal Family Series

MASTERLIST

The palace was an old country mansion that had been extended over the centuries. It now had four sides around a central quadrangle and over five hundred rooms. It took a small army of servants to upkeep such a large abode and indeed most of the rooms were never really used. 

The early hours of the morning were spreading the colors of the sunrise against the skyline. The clouds were tinted with a light pinkish and orangish glow, painting the most magnificent sight known to man. The early risen choir of birds were singing to themselves in a little chipper manner. 

A young princess was currently sitting on the perch of her window. She was looking towards the gardens, spotting the small buds starting to sprout on some of the bushes. She liked to wake up early so she could watch the sunrise every morning. 

She was still dressed in her white nightgown. Her nightgown was the beautiful color of pristine white. The soft and silky fabric trailed down the short stretch of her body to gather near her ankles. The layers of lace were stitched around the edge. The silky sleeves of the nightgown were trailing down to the end of her wrist, bunching into these tight cuffs around her wrists. The lace collar was also stitched to the hemline of the white nightgown. And a single ribbon was hanging down from the center of her chest, which dropped down the length of the gown.

This morning should have been no different than any other morning. The princess had stood to her feet, heading towards the other side of her bedroom. She pulled a long line of fabric that trailed to the ceiling. It acted as a lever that would be pulled to call for service from downstairs. She called for her lady’s maid.

Within a few moments, Elsie (the lady’s maid) had come into the princess’s bedroom with a towel draped over her forearm. She closed the solid wood mahogany behind her, bowing in respect. 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” Elsie said with a soft smile. She was quick to move towards the princess’s white vanity, laying the neatly folded towel beside the porcelain basin of cold water. 

“Good morning, Elsie.” The princess did not hesitate to walk back towards the window. She lifted her hand to brush the silky white curtains away, smiling at the beautiful sight in front of her. Her lady’s maid usually found her in the same spot every morning. 

“It is a beautiful day outside, is it not?” Elsie wondered. She had gone to the mahogany wardrobe in the background, fetching the light blue dress that she would wear for the day. She opened the doors of the wardrobe, pulling out the new dress amongst the various other ones. 

“It is indeed,”the princess agreed. She could only imagine the feel of the wind kissing her skin. She loved to spend her time walking through the gardens, admiring the nature around her. It didn’t take much convincing for her. “I think I would like to walk the gardens later,” the princess claimed.

“Of course, Your Highness. I’ll see to it,” Elsie promised. She had gently urged the young princess away from the window, so that she might be able to dress her for the day. 

The young princess was able to slip out of her white nightgown, watching the soft material tumble to the ground. She was fitted into her corset, which only seemed to grow tighter every time she wore it. She threw the crinoline over her head, waiting for her lady’s maid to tie the ribbons around her waist. She was quick to glance towards the powder blue dress that was laying out for her. It was the final touch.

In the end, the princess looked at her own reflection in the shiny glass mirror. She gave a short twirl to admire her new dress. The powder blue dress sleeves were quite puffy. They only dropped down to her forearms, leaving her shoulders cold and bare. There were white and silver stitches of roses on the skirt of the dress. And a long blue ribbon was wrapped around her waist.

Now the princess had lowered herself into the chair by the white vanity. She didn’t mind her lady’s maid brushing the hard knots out of her hair. She was used to it by now. Instead, the princess was looking through her small boxes of jewelry to find the perfect necklace and earrings to complete her outfit for the day. She would settle on some priceless diamonds.

At the given moment, one of the hall boys had knocked on the princess’s bedroom door. The heavy door had opened at a very slow pace. The hall boy had poked his head into the room, drawing the attention of the princess. 

“Your Highness,” the hall boy said. He was quick to step into the grand bedroom, bowing to her in the utmost form of respect. He was here to deliver a message. “The king is requesting your presence in the throne room,” the hall boy explained.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep the king waiting. I will be there soon,” the princess dismissed him. The hall boy had scurried out of the room so that he could deliver his message to the king himself. He had almost forgotten to bow his head before leaving the princess’s presence.

She quickly stood to her feet. She draped her hands down the long length of her brand new dress, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles. She headed towards the large mahogany door in the background, leaving her bedroom that was secured by two palace guards. She barely even noticed them bowing their heads at her.

The Eastern Princess had known the whole layout of the palace like the back of her hand. She had started to maneuver her way through the various corridors in the palace. She would smile at each of the servants that she passed along the way, though not many of them would catch it because their heads were bowed. She quickly hurried down the long length of the corridor, heading straight towards the throne room. 

The heavy doors of the throne were opened to the princess by the two palace guards. The throne room was an impressive setting for the king to preside 'in majesty' over official ceremonies, to hold council, to grant audiences, to receive homage, to award high honors and offices, and to perform other official functions. It was probably one of the most popular room in the palace.

The long pillars that stretched to the ceiling were made out of pure gold. The ceiling was a dome, decorated with very precise golden details. The line of chandeliers were sparkling in the morning light coming through the bay windows. The white marble floors were practically glistening because they had been scrubbed to perfection the night before. The king’s throne sat at the very end of the room.

The current monarch was definitely living in his last days. He was the most kind and gentle king that the kingdom had grown to know over the years. He was able to be attended to by the various servants in the palace. He also had many health complications, but he refused to make that announcement public to the press in fear that the word might travel. He was very wise in that sense.

The king was perched on the grand golden throne at the end of the hallway. His crown was placed on his head, which he never really wore unless there was someone coming to the palace. He had long white hair and a long beard on his face. His light blue eyes were shining. He smiled down at his only daughter.

“You called for me?” Y/N claimed. She was quick to approach his throne, crouching down to reside by his feet. This was something that she had always done as a child. She looked up at him with warm and gentle eyes. 

“Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something,” the king admitted. He was already dreading having this talk with his daughter. He never talked to her about the things going on in the kingdom. He felt that it would only worry her more. He also did not like to talk business with her, because it was a burden that she didn’t need to bare. 

“Alright,” the princess urged him.

“Many months ago, the King of the North had contacted me with a business proposition that would benefit the both of us.” The king began.“He feared that (with his passing) the Western Kingdom would try to overthrow the Northern Kingdom. I will admit that I have also had these kinds of thoughts in regards to my own kingdom. It is the worst case in my scenario because (unlike him) I do not have an heir who can inherit the title of king,” he further explained.

“You only have me,” the princess said. Her choice of words had come out in a very sad way. She could feel a rough pinch at her heart, because she was constantly reminded of her low position in society. She was ‘just a woman’ whose only purpose in life was to be married to some prince and bare his children. She would never amount to anything in this day and age.

“The king proposes that we should conjoin our two kingdoms together with a special treaty. That way we might be able to stand a chance against the westerners,” the king concluded.

“How would you conjoin the kingdoms though?” The princess wondered. She had furrowed her eyebrows together in thought. She was leaning forward in her place, growing more eager to hear his business proposition. She could only imagine what kind of treaty he would come up with.

“Well, the king has a son.” The king spoke in such a suggestive tone of voice. He had tried to make it look like he didn’t have the whole thing planned out in his mind. Like the idea had just popped into his head at that specific moment.

“Oh father,” Princess Y/N sighed to herself. She rolled her eyes at him. She was quick to stand to her feet again. She had turned her back to him, climbing back down the short steps. She wasn’t very amused with his comment. “Please don’t try to marry me off to some snobbish schoolboy prince,” she pleaded.

“He is not a snobbish prince. He is a highly respectable and honorable young man,” the king scoffed. He was trying to reason with his stubborn daughter. He pulled out one of his other cards. “I have even met him before. I think that he would be good for you,” the king claimed.

“You have said that before,” the princess called. This was not the first time that the king had tried to marry her off to some prince. She had played the game ‘match-maker’ far too many times to count. She was honestly tired of it now. “And I have told you before that I want to marry for love,” the princess demanded.

“You could learn to love him,” the king proposed. He had almost winced at his own choice of words, fearing her reaction. He was still trying to reason with her, mentally hoping that she would just cave in at some point.

“I highly doubt that,” the princess laughed. She had turned her head to look over the small stretch of her shoulder, shaking her head in denial. She just couldn’t bare the thought of being married off to some random stranger. 

“Well, you will have plenty of time to think it over because I have invited them to stay at the palace for a couple weeks,” the king concluded. He had forced himself to stand to his feet, leaving his gold throne behind him. He looked down at his daughter with a triumphant smile on his face.

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed. She had whirled around to face him. She was looking up at him with the look of horror on her face. Her mouth had dropped open at his words. She couldn’t believe it.

“They will be coming later this afternoon,” the king remarked. He had started to walk down the short steps leading up to his throne, stopping to stand in front of his lovely daughter. He tapped her chin gentle. “Do try to be civil, my dear,” the king pleaded with her.

“Fine,” the princess sighed to herself. “I will try,” the princess promised.

Within a few hours, a beautiful golden carriage was being drawn by four white horses towards the frontside of the king’s palace. The large carriage had come to a full stop in front of the palace staircase leading to the front door. The carriage doors were opened by two palace guards on the sidelines.

The King of the North had climbed out of the golden carriage with ease. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, watching his two twin boys climbing out behind him. His eldest was the last one to clamber out of the carriage. He had shifted to stand beside his father, directing his line of focus towards the magnificent palace in front of them.

The four of them were being escorted through the various corridors of the palace. The king was leading the way. The princes were following behind him, but they were greatly intrigued by the intricate detail engraved into the gold pillars that stretched down the corridor. They knew that this kingdom was well known for their gold, but they did not realize how much of it was incorporated into very single aspect of the palace.

The two palace guards were quick to grab onto the door handles leading into the throne room, opening the two doors for them to enter. The four northerners had started walking towards the large throne at the end of the hallway, stopping to stand in front of the king. The four of them bowed in respect.

“Welcome to the Eastern Kingdom,” the King of the East said. He nodded to them in acknowledgment. He had raised his hands in greeting, gesturing to the great halls around him. He wore a grand smile on his face. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” The King of the North spoke. He was slow to lift his head up to look towards the other king in front of him. He hadn’t seen the other king in quite some time. His lips had grown into a friendly smile on his face. “It was very kind of you to invite me and my boys to stay here for a few weeks,” the North King said.

The two kings had started to engage in short conversation. The two younger princes were standing beside each other. They had turned their heads to look towards the young princess standing in their company. The older prince could feel a sharp nudge in his side coming from one of his brothers. He could see his brother gesturing towards someone standing in front of them. 

Slowly, Prince Thomas had turned his head to follow his brother’s line of sight. He found himself gazing at the young princess standing on the side of the throne, feeling his breath getting caught in his throat at the mere sight of her. He had never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life. He felt that, if she smiled at him, he might just dissolve into dust right there. He wanted her to smile...at him.

On the sidelines, the princess had turned her head to look at the three princes standing beside their father. She had caught one of them looking directly at her. She had just briefly glanced at their matching navy blue and silver uniforms. She was also able to notice that the three princes were much younger than she would have thought for most of the princes that she had met before were much older than her. She would admit that she found them quite handsome.

“Are these your boys?” The King of the East wondered. He found himself looking towards the three princes standing in front of him, gesturing to them with his hand. He took a second to inspect each of them, but he was able to identify the one prince that he had met one other time.

“Yes, they are. These are my three eldest children. This is Sam and Harry,” the king said with a nod of the head. He was quick to turn towards his three boys, so that he could introduce them to the king. He motioned towards each of them with the slight move of the hand. “And this one is my eldest whom you have met—Thomas,” the king concluded.

“It is a pleasure to meet you again,” the Eastern King said. He could barely contain the smile from growing on his face. He knew that it had been a few years since he had seen the prince last. But he had seen him grow into a very handsome young man.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Prince Thomas complimented him. He had bowed his head down once again to show some more respect to the king. He looked up at the king with a timid look on his face, mentally hoping that he would gain his favor.

“May I present to you my only daughter?” The King of the East proposed in such a suggestive tone. He had glanced down at his daughter standing at the lower level of steps leading up to the throne. He waved his hand to gesture towards her. 

Of course, the King of the North and the King of the East had known in advance that the prince and princess were going to be the sole members of the treaty between their countries. The two kings had turned their heads to look at each other with slight amusement written on their faces. They smirked in an all-knowing manner.

Now the prince and princess had also been informed about this treaty between their countries. They had been told that they would be married to each other, so that their kingdoms might be able to stand a chance against their enemies. It was only natural for them to blush at the king’s suggestive comment.

Slowly, Prince Thomas had found himself walking towards the young princess standing in front of him. He could see that (with each step he took) he was able to admire some of the more delicate details of her face. He watched her raise her hand towards him. 

“Your Highness. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Prince Thomas confessed. He was careful to bring her hand towards his face, pressing the most delicate kiss onto the back of her hand. He lifted his head to look up at her, feeling the smile growing on his face. “You truly are the most beautiful princess in the land,” Prince Thomas complimented.

The young princess had almost grown tense under his stare. Her breath had caught in the back of her throat, so she was unable to form any words. She felt this tingly sensation on the back of her hand where his lips had touched her soft skin. Her cheeks had started to grow pink and rosy at his words. 

“My dear,” the king of the east called to her. He had tried to pull her back to reality. He could already acknowledge that she was probably caught up in her own thoughts right then and there. “Why don't you show the young princes to their rooms? They can get some rest before dinner,” the king suggested. 

“Oh yes,” the princess said in a cheery tone of voice. She was hesitant to pull her hand out of the prince’s. She didn’t turn her head to even acknowledge the king’s command. She was too caught up in the prince’s strong stare. “I will take them there,” the princess concluded. 

The Northern Prince had never heard anything more beautiful than the words that came out of her mouth. He didn’t even notice that his hand was back at his side. He didn’t even want to draw his eyes away from her. His heart started to flutter wildly in his chest upon seeing the kindest and warmest gesture in the world. She had smiled at him.

[lo-55]

Lightning In A Bottle Ch. 1

Luffy manages to make friends in the strangest of places. Even time travellers trapped in giant rocks. 

Nao, in turn, finds herself dragged into one of the weirdest crews she's ever even heard of.

With the sun beating down on them, the Going Merry pulled to a stop beside the rough stone shores of Alabasta’s coast. The crew was a-flutter with activity, anchors dropping and plans being made. Vivi looked like if she leaned to far forward she was going to tip right off the edge and into the sea. 

Luffy had his sights set on the city that rose out of the sand ahead of them. The buildings were the same dull brown of the surrounding dunes, and dark pockets marked windows and doorways. The city buzzed with activity, and the docks nearby were colorful with sales and goods being shipped in. 

They’d docked themselves around the cove to avoid being seen, so he could only catch a glimpse of their sails from here, but they’d seen more on the way in.

It was the first city in Alabasta they’d seen, and he just knew there was gonna some kind of awesome restaurant in there! Nothing would be as good as Sanji’s cooking, but Vivi had told them that in Alabasta there were all sorts of spices that didn’t exist anywhere else, and the food was just as hot as the sand was. Luffy was drooling just thinking about it. 

He listened with one ear while Vivi and Nami talked about provisions, and something about wandering sand dunes? That was a thing? 

Luffy would ask later. Right now, food! 

With a quick jump he was on the ground, springing towards the city and all the restaurants inside it. He was gonna eat lots of meat, and try yummy new kinds of roasts and-

Land face first in the sand? 

Luffy peeled his face off the ground and spat out a mouthful of sand. That wasn’t what he wanted to eat today. 

“Gross.” 

Once he was done wiping all the sand off his tongue he looked back to see what he’d even tripped over. A big, shiny red rock lay embedded in the sand. He must had tripped over it. It glittered pale green in the light. 

Luffy cocked his head and knelt beside it. He tried to lift it up, but it kept going down and to the right, into the sand dune next to him. It must have been huge. He bet Nami would love a rock that was that big. But, Luffy still wanted food. If he went to get the food now he would probably lose the rock when the sand dune moved. So he needed to get it out before he ate. Which sucked, because he was really hungry. 

Of course, if he left the giant gemtone in the sand and Nami found out she’d be pissed. 

Luffy made a face. Nope. He wasn’t dealing with that. 

He just had to go quick. The sooner he got the rock out the sooner he could go find a restaurant in town. 

So he started digging. And digging. And digging. 

The rock, he found, wasn’t actually the deep under the sand dune. More like that sand had just settled on top of the stone like snow, and he just had to brushed it off when he got higher up. 

When he finally got the whole thing unburied all Luffy could do was gape at what he saw. 

Inside the shining green gemstone was a ship maybe half the size of Merry, and in another gem that was connected by a thin cord of stone was a girl. 

She was in the middle of screaming, frozen in the green crystal, with one sword drawn in hand. 

Luffy knocked on the gemstone. “Hey!” he shouted. “What are you doing in there?!” 

He knocked harder when there was no response. “I’m talking to you!” 

Maybe she was sleeping with her eyes open? But then why did she look like she was fighting? Luffy paused when he realized a crack had formed when he’d hit the stone. Hopefully this wasn’t some kind of bizarro modern art. Did Alabastan’s do that? It seemed weird, but you never knew. 

The cracks spread across the surface of the crystal like spiderwebs until they covered the entire thing. All at once they burst apart and the woman in the gem dropped to her knees with a shout. Wind swept outwards and the chunks of gems fell to the ground. A flag snapped out from the mast of the ship. 

A black flag.

The skull on the top had two rubies for eyes and two horns that sprouted on either side. 

A pirate! 

Luffy grinned and ran across the broken fragments of gemstone until he was drawn up short by a sword point aimed at his throat. 

The girl was on her knees, and this close up Luffy could see she was covered in bruises and cuts. That didn’t take away from the vicious determination in her eyes. They were red, like the jolly rogers’. 

Luffy shot her a cheerful grin. “Hi-ya.” 

Her brows pinched together. Her hair was dark and wild around her head, like a lion's mane. 

“Who the hell are you? And where are the others?” 

“Huh? Other’s?” Luffy looked around. Were there more rock people around here? That would be so cool! 

“My crew. And the navy. We were-” she grimaced. “We were fighting. Where is everyone else?” 

Luffy could only lift his hands up and shrug. “Dunno. You’re the only one here I see. Hey, you’re a pirate right? Is that your ship? What were you doing in that rock? How did you get in there? Are you a rock person? Can you poop?” 

Slowly, the sword lowered from his throat. 

“Yes I am, yes it is, I was trapped by a Devil Fruit power. I guess I am a rock person. And, also yes? Fuck, how long was I in there?” 

“How should I know?” 

“Good point… You’re not a Marine, are you?” 

“What? Hell no! I’m a Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!” 

She gaped at him, and kept looking at his hat, too. 

“You- what? Huh? How?!” 

“I just am,” he said firmly, and nodded to himself. 

“Oh. Well, I’m Roche Nao. I am- or, I guess I was the captain of the Gem Pirates. That’s our ship, the Blood Stone,” she gestured behind her. A shadow fell across her face. “If I’m the only one here, that means we really did lose.” 

Luffy frowned. He couldn't imagine losing even one member of his crew, let alone all of them. The mere thought of it made him sick to his stomach, and all he could think of was fire on the water, fire eating a jolly roger, and the reek of burning garbage. 

“If that’s the case, then come with me,” he demanded abruptly. 

She startled. 

“Huh?” 

“Come with me! My crew and me are here to fight some jerk with one of our friends, so come with us for a while. Maybe we can help find your crew.” 

“You literally just met me. Why would you help me with anything? Let alone something like that?” 

Luffy grinned at her. “That’s easy. Because I want to!” 

She eyed his hat again, to the point he was starting to wonder if she was gonna try to steal it, before slowly she sheathed her sword and got to her feet. 

“Okay. Monkey D. Luffy, I might take you up on that offer. Just give me a minute, okay?” 

“Fine, but hurry up! I was gonna go get something to eat in the city, and now I’m getting really hungry.”

“Okay, okay!” 

Nao scrambled up onto her ship and lowered the flag and pulled the masts with practiced ease. When she came back a short black cape was around her shoulders. 

“Okay,” she clapped her hands together. “Lead the way, Luffy.” 

Luffy punched the air. “Alright! Meat here we come!” 

He turned the direction of the city and set off at a brisk run, with Nao at his heels.