#I just hate how it’s fine if someone else does it but if Kira does it it’s automatically bad

[carnelianwings]

I keep seeing Bad Kira Yamato Takes on Twitter and I keep asking myself why do I bother with the For You page except I’ve got it mostly trained to show me fan art of my favorite ships and such so I guess that’s the trade off.

Anyway, just venting because I happen to think Kira, for all the accusations the haters like to throw at him, is a very reasonable and human Gundam Protagonist. Also unlike Amuro Ray he never actually runs away from fighting … until Seed Freedom (but that’s more like “there’s multiple people to pick up where he left off and there’s plenty of reasons why he should just retire”).

I really don’t get the hate towards Kira in Seed. There is nothing he does that any previous Gundam protagonist hasn’t done. Survive improbable situations thanks to the power of Plot Armor? Heero Yuy’s done that at least three between Wing and Endless Waltz - the most egregious one in Wing when he self destructed his Gundam while standing on the cockpit hatch. I mean sure there was also the time he set his own broken leg but that’s also besides the point. Improbable speed at learning to pilot a Gundam? Amuro Ray did that and that was the original.

At the same time, people like to say Kira didn’t suffer and just coasted through Seed. As though he didn’t have to helpless watch as Tolle dies, nearly kills a childhood best friend over it, gets PTSD just from fighting a war, and then more PTSD from dealing with Durandal, and also general trauma of being in an abusive relationship with Flay (that has repercussions into his relationship with Lacus well into Seed Freedom). Kira might not have started Seed traumatized the way both Athrun (Junius Seven/Bloody Valentine) and Shinn (First Battle of Orb) were, but he still had personal trauma nonetheless. And even though it’s not explicitly shown on screen, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kira feels guilty about what happened to Shinn even if Kira himself wasn’t directly at fault for it.

And to say that Kira’s goal isn’t the same as Lacus’s (world peace) along with basically with everyone else he’s teamed up with is just terrible comprehension because everyone involved with Cagalli (and Athrun, by extension) and COMPASS wants world peace and the wars to just stop.

Honestly, I think the best damned thing that happened to Kira ever since he got drop kicked into the cockpit by Murrue (not her fault, it was either that or let the civilian kid die and she wasn’t about to do that either) is being able to just fuck off and fly to Akatsuki Island at the end of Seed Freedom and have victory sex on the beach with Lacus, because he really hasn’t had time to do what he wants for himself since then. Because every time there’s a chance of it happening, he was either getting manipulated by Flay, working (as a programmer), or recovering from trauma. Like he’s been at this for 4 years with hardly a break because (by Seed Freedom) he feels like he has to, both as the Ultimate Coordinator (as in, he has the ability to so he must), and as part of what he said to Durandal at the end of the Battle of Messiah. And because he is so busy and being part of COMPASS has actually meant he and Lacus spend more time apart, he can’t really lean on her the way he used to during the First and Second Earth Alliance-PLANT wars.

Really if I were being honest I’d actually say the only reason Kira’s been “okay” during both Seed and Seed Destiny is because Lacus has been there to be something of a therapist for him (especially during Seed Destiny with how he very obviously has PTSD from the first war). But the reason Lacus is willing to do this for him is because she’s got shades of philosopher-therapist to begin with, and she knows he’s actually very kind and caring underneath it all and isn’t a soldier at all, and doesn’t belong on the battlefield (from how he treated her during her time as a prisoner on the Archangel early on before he got really traumatized by the war).

And also Kira’s a crybaby? Okay so crying because a friend died is a bad thing? Crying because you’re suddenly thrown into a war you never wanted to be a part of and having to kill people because it’s kill or be killed even though you don’t want to kill anyone is a bad thing? Crying because you’re scared but you have to go out and fight anyway because if you don’t, you, your friends, a whole bunch of civilians, and other people (even if they’re military and they signed up for this, but some of them have been really nice and tried to be caring given the situation and aren’t actually bad people at all) will die is a bad thing? To me those are just reasonable, human responses to the situation he’s suddenly thrust in. Like yeah sure the Strike is a cool robot and all that, but to quote Athrun, it’s not like Kira can just “go fight a war with a smile” you know?

[the-brainrot-central]

FUCK IT - Yoshikage Kira Dyspraxia headcanons

If no one else is gonna do it then GODDAMNIT I WILL!!!

Content warning: implied/mentioned child abuse

He’s an excellent cook—however, it took him a lot of painstaking effort to get there. I imagine his mother probably spent hours and hours as a kid teaching him how to do stuff (either that or just forcing him to make dinner with no instructions—-“you’re not stupid; figure it out), and he was probably yelled at and scolded a lot for messing up—forgetting steps, measuring things wrong, knocking shit over and getting flour and miscellaneous ingredients everywhere.

He was probably yelled at the worst when he’d forget that he was cooking dinner all together, getting distracted by another chore such as dishwashing that had been left undone and forgetting that he was cooking in the first place

However, after lots of suffering and yelling, he grew up to be an excellent cook—and he actually enjoys it believe it or not. He does not, however, enjoy accidentally cutting himself all the time and knocking shit over, which he still does frequently :(((

He was probably bullied a lot as a kid because he was quiet and really clumsy, and his dyspraxia really made him stick out. Because of this, he spent a lot of time trying to get better at normal people things, with some success

He never wears shoes with ties because they are a PAIN IN HIS ASS. He wears business slipons and, occasionally, if he finds himself wearing tie shoes he buys those special disability ties for them (with the plastic thingies on the end)

He tries not to drink because he very quickly finds himself unable to stand or walk very well even after just a moderate amount of alcohol. He’s very embarrassed when he has to find someone to lean on while they drag him back home

He manages to walk okay now, better than he did as a child, but often finds himself tripping and falling, much to his chagrin—it’s humiliating and he hates the attention he draws for his clumsiness

Weirdly enough, despite his other fine motor issues, he has incredible handwriting—once again, probably lots of drilling and scolding from his mother are to thank for that.

Was a really spacey and distractible kid—his teachers and parents used to rag him over it all the time. As an adult he still zones out sometimes, like when engaging in chores and whatnot. In fact, sometimes he might be distracted by something else while doing his laundry, for example, and he’ll come back to it an hour later to realize he didn’t even start the load 😭

He eats like twelve to twenty different foods, nothing else—has strong aversions to certain smells and textures

He manages to fold things neatly but it takes him a tremendous amount of time, more than he’d prefer—probably thirty minutes to fold like, ten articles of clothing. His mother often chastised him for taking so long to do chores as a kid but whenever he took a “normal” amount of time, she’d yell at him because it was done “sloppily” and improperly

Since he’s gotten killer queen, he’s been much less prone to accidents, since he has an extra buddy with speedy reflexes to help him out. For example, if he accidentally drops a mug Killer Queen catches it before it shatters.

[delucadarling]

OC asks! 11 and 13 for Barbie and 15 for Lucas, please! 💕 (~agentnatesewell)

oooo okay. I'll be addressing all of these from a perspective of the Usual AU @crownleys and I play with for our detectives, because I've basically adopted it as my personal canon at this point. In this, Kira is the detective, Bobby's her ex, and Rebecca is her mom. Barbie and Lucas are siblings, both work for the Agency. Barbie meets Kira during the events of Book 1, while Lucas and Kira meet at the tail end of Book 1. He pops up here and there to be a big brother nuisance and make Kira (accidentally) cry.

Barbie

11. What does your OC believe in? God(s)? Monsters? Love? The power of unbreakable bonds of friendship to overcome any obstacle? The ability of money to open any door? Or are they indifferent?

Barbie used to believe in God. When she was 10, her father left the family for another woman and pretty much never looked back. Her mom really struggled at this time and turned to religion for comfort. She'd always been churchgoing, but this led her into fundamentalism. Barbie, who was young, tried to please her mom by being a very good Christian girl who knew every story in the Bible by heart. She decided she needed to believe EXTRA hard to make her mom happy.

Being of a curious nature though, Barbie was always filled with questions. This doesn't mix well with Christianity, and led to her realizing she was better off keeping those questions to herself.

Eventually, Barbie started to notice things about the world that were...strange. No one had answers for her, and she didn't like to ask much anymore, so she just observed. She wrote everything down in her journals, drawing pictures and taking detailed notes.

When she's 15, she manages to track down a Facility, and that's what starts her path towards working with the Agency.

(tossing the rest under a readmore)

13. How important are romantic relationships to your OC? Do they prefer casual sex, short flings, or long term relationships? Do they want to get married or are they content with what they have? Or do they have no interest in romance whatsoever?

Romance is really important to Barbie! She wants nothing more than to build a lasting love with someone else. In truth, she craves the idea of being important to someone. Her ideal would be a lover who is totally obsessed with everything about her. She wants love, marriage, and children.

I like to pair her up with all vampires (though I'd say Mason is definitely her main love interest) so I always get to play with something new and fun, depending on who she's with when she realizes she's fallen in love.

Lucas

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

The house he and Barbie grew up in, in south Georgia. He was 16 before his family really fell apart, so he has good memories there. Mostly because he always had a bike and a group of friends to run around with.

There's a cliff in Germany, near a beach, that Lucas thinks of all the time. He and Adam "fell" over the edge during a mission, and while Adam came out just fine, Lucas nearly lost his leg and is permanently disabled because of it. He can't bring himself to view it negatively. The change in his life was so huge it's just a lot of feelings. He'd definitely undo everything that happened there if he could, but he's mostly chosen to let the bad feelings go. Lucas hates holding grudges, even against the supernatural the maimed him.

[agnol117]

Series I, Part VII

SCP-033 - The Missing Number

Another one that’s just kinda weird!

I really like when the name of the page sums up the skip as nicely as this one does. I also really like the idea that the number isn’t actively “harmful,” rather, it’s trying to integrate itself into a system that doesn’t really account (heh) for it. It’s a fun concept.

8/10

SCP-034 - Obsidian Ritual Knife

I find the implications of this much more terrifying than the report actually lets on. The ability to change into someone by cutting off a portion of their skin, and gaining their physical appearance and even their DNA absolutely terrifies me. It’s another one of those that I find deeply upsetting. Like the Pipe Nightmare.

9/10

SCP-035 - Possessive Mask

I feel like this one tries to do too much?

The basic concept is fine. I like the evil mask and the possession bits. Those are great. Everything past that, though, just feels like it’s trying too hard, to the point of becoming almost silly. It’s the opposite problem of over-redacting. Instead of there being too little information to be scary, there’s too much. Oh, the mask is super smart and tries to manipulate people into letting it escape! And it can use telepathy to do that even without a host! And it can make the walls bleed, and turn the entire cell into a concentrated zone of hate and despair that makes everyone who enters it want to kill themself!

It’s just too much.

2/10

SCP-036 - The Reincarnation Pilgrimage of the Yazidi (Kiras Guhorîn)

I’m not really sure what to make of this one, mostly because it doesn’t feel like an SCP. It’s not something that can be “secured” or “contained.” Rather, it’s a religious ritual that the Foundation just apparently helps adherents perform. Which…yeah. Giving this a null score, because it just fundamentally doesn’t feel like an SCP.

-/10

SCP-037 - Dwarf Star

Another one that’s just kinda weird. It’s a tiny star that somehow made its way to Earth, and because it’s literally tiny, it had to be hidden. There’s little else to really say about it.

4/10

SCP-038 - The Everything Tree

Major Dune vibes from this one, although I’m pretty sure I’ve just revealed how terrible my taste as a twenty-something was, because I’m pretty sure the Tleilaxu cloning farms are from the awful novels not by Herbert. Otherwise it’s just a fun sort of concept.

7/10

[trashland-llamas]

July Wrap Up

The Science of Fashion [2.0 stars]

Why are there qr codes in a book? Either write out the information or cut it from the book. If you need to include a website, you can just put ‘can find out more at [insert link]’ Otherwise book was fine.

Asgardians; Odin [2.25 stars] Olympians; Zeus [2.5 stars] Death Note Vol 7 [2.5 stars]

After chapter 58, I found it to be a slog. Just cause they're suddenly introducing new characters that are dubbed to be L's proteges and nothing else. Except that they're tasked with solving the Kira case as they're characters Light wouldn't have known about. Plus one of them is very much a copy and paste version of L while the other has mafia ties. I will wait till the next volume to cement this judgement as neither have had much screen time. Feel it'd be too soon.

Edit; Nvm, I saw a tiktok where someone had the same thoughts & a bunch of the folks in the comments agreed w/ the sentiment. Ik the actual ending is probably more satisfying seeing as it’s quite literally Light’s downfall. But I genuinely don’t care about who wins. It’s was more the tit for tat that L & Light had going on. Right now, it feels as if they’re about to unnecessarily drag it out. So yea, to me, the series ends w/ chpt. 58 or episode 25.

Soichi - Junji Ito [3.0 stars] Skull-faced Bookseller Honda-San Vol 4 [3.25 stars]

Author wasn’t kidding when they said this was promotional material for volume 3 + the anime. That said, was still enjoyable to read as I had extremely low expectations for this vol, having heard someone say it was akin to a fanfic. Not that fan fiction is overall bad, it’s not, but that’s not what I wanted as the end to this series.

Queen's Quality Vol 1 [3.5 stars] These Are The Words - Nikita Gill [3.75 stars]

There’s actually a structure to it which is a rarity I’ve found, at least from the poetry books I’ve read so far; its structured into 4 segments after the seasons & then each chapter is about a specific topic (womanhood, love, family)

Each section starts with a horoscope which I definitely looked forward to. Cause they make mini stories of themselves.

It uses simple language but I think it’s really impactful & makes the poems more generalizable. Which works for this collection as the goal was ‘hey, hopefully this has something you’ve been needing to hear.’

There is an overuse of nods to the moon in terms of metaphors and similes imo

Would recommend if you’re just entering adulthood or are in a transition period in life. That or if you’re wanting to read something hopeful

Demon Slayer Vol 19 [3.75 stars] Like a Butterfly Vol 2 [4.0 stars] Devil's Candy Vol 1 [4.0 stars] Demon Slayer Vol 18 [5.0 stars]

Fav moment would be Kanao stitching up Inosuke and him pinky promising not to take out the stitches himself + the anger she feels at her sisters’ deaths + Giyuu protecting Tanjiro when he faints during the fight w/ Akaza. (Keep confusing Akaza & Douma for each other, name wise. Cause they do have distinct enough looks)

That and all the backstories shown for the upper 12 are very heartfelt in that they add humanity to characters that don't really have that much screen time outside of these final fights. Like we get glimpses of them sprinkled earlier in the series. If anything, it emphasizes how Muzan prayed on all of them during an extreme low point and does make me feel sympathy for them. Which is especially poigant as the series is coming to a close. Like it makes me hate Muzan a lot more than I originally did.

The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich [5.0 stars]

[captainjimothy]

i think it's important to remember that kira grew up under the occupation, that she is still operating under the occupation in her mind, especially in the early seasons, that she experienced her family being torn apart and watched the same happen to so many others. having a family is a liability, to yourself and to them, and yet--life is all we have, life is hope, new life is hope is resistance is strength. but as a fighter, her priorities have always been to keep herself in top fighting form. and it's simpler not to have a family anyway.

learning how to live in peace time. forming complicated relationships with federation coworkers on a station thick with the ghosts of your own people, people who died instead of you. it's still not practical to start a family (and when is it ever?), but you're dating, you're trying to act like a normal person and not like a soldier. sometimes it feels like you still have to be a soldier, like maybe you'll never stop, like you're cursed to live in war forever. you're doing long distance with someone who should understand all of these things but he doesn't, there's some fundamental disconnect that wasn't there before, but you chalk it up to the distance and try to focus on your friends and maybe his/your life will settle down and you'll find your groove again.

you accept the baby because there are no other options. because if you don't, the baby will die. because keiko is your friend and she's nearly dead already and you can't let her wake up to the loss of her child. so you take the baby. everything changes, and somehow nothing changes. you're still you, though your body is strange and people look at you with a peculiar fond pity instead of the usual respect or lust or fear. but it's fine, even if you feel like you are hardly living in your body at all anymore, you have your friends--more than that, you have a new family that you didn't realize you were signing up for. but you love them. you can't help it. it feels wrong, it feels normal when you're alone but when you're around them it feels like your skin is falling off and your spirit is hovering about two feet behind you. maybe this is just what it's like to be pregnant. the only person who doesn't have this effect on you is molly.

after the baby is born, everything changes again, and it does not stop changing for even five minutes at a time. you stop dating for a while. you're still not sure whether your new family actually wants you to be part of them, you still feel that clawing shame of Difference at their dinner table. maybe it was more than the pregnancy. there's a war on again, you don't have time for this--it's never been practical to have a family, let alone have personal crises. you detach yourself less carefully than is perhaps polite, and ignore the regret.

you fall in love. no, that's not true. you start dating your best friend, who is in love with you, and you're happy because it's a much simpler thing to do than having someone else's baby. you do love odo, but it is not the way he loves you, but you can't say that to someone who is dying, so you don't. you convince yourself that your feelings are enough, and for a while, they are. he's your best friend, after all. you do love him. when he leaves, you grieve his absence, and hate yourself for feeling relieved.

there is only empty space, now, where your family used to be. there is empty space where half your friends used to be. you don't want to date anymore, not for a long time. you're beginning to face the fact that there is never going to be a convenient time to have your personal crisis, so you might as well get it over with, since it seems to be a common current beneath a lot of your problems. you experiment with long hair. you bribe quark to keep his mouth shut about the holosuite program in which you play as a man. you start going to bajor for your healthcare, because you'd rather step out an airlock than talk to julian about this. some time later he asks, politely, discreetly, with those eyes that have not smiled for too long, and you can tell that he knows. so you tell him anyway.

and it's fine. it's good, actually. it's weird. you look at your body differently. you feel a little less like it's going to fall off of you, and a little more like you're really living in it. you decide to tell one or two more people, and the rest can figure it out from there. you realize you hated some things about your body, and julian--who is surprisingly fine to talk to about this, actually--says it may take a while to figure out what the feelings mean, what you actually want. some things are easy to know: you get your top surgery on bajor. some things are harder: they ask if you want to trim your belly, repair the scarring and stretching. you say you'll think about it. you don't go back.

you think about keiko. the way she looked dying, and the way she looked living again. the way she looked at you. in hindsight, she had looked at you as if you held the moon in the palm of your hand.

thinking about transmasc kira nerys again. thinking about post-partum transmasc bodies. thinking about pre-transition pregnancy and how that would inform transmasc!kira's relationship to his body. thinking about grief and love and patience and love. thinking about how kira must have felt about parenthood before the pregnancy, and how that perspective must have changed.

[kuromochimi]

Atsumu x Reader:

Deja vu (Part II)

That was our place, I found it first

Do you get deja vu when she’s with you?

Part 2/3

Masterlist | Part 1 here

Warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of cheating

──────── y/n’s pov

It’s been more than a week since your meeting with atsumu. You couldn’t sleep for days after that. It’s been 6 years and hurt was still evident in his eyes when he saw you again.

<< Flashback >>

“Please y/n, you owe me this.”

You know you owe him more than just an explanation. He deserved more than that. But you weren’t ready and you didn’t want to crumble into pieces right in front of him. You didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him anymore because his arms aren’t yours to fall into no more, his love not yours to find comfort in.

“I know I’m in no position to ask this of you. I know. But please give me more time, miya.”

Miya. It sounded so foreign coming from you even when it’s been 6 years since he last heard you call him “tsumu”

“You were gone for 6 years! How much more time do you need?!”

Atsumu wanted to scream. How could 6 years of nothing not be enough for him to at least get an explanation? He just wanted some closure.

But he knew better than to force you. You still had the same habit of picking at the end of your sweater sleeves whenever you were trying to stop yourself from crying. Exactly what you were doing now. Frankly speaking, he didn’t want to make any more of a scene nor did he want to hurt you back so he surrendered.

“Fine. But I need you to explain, alright? When you’re ready”

──────

Just as you are, atsumu wasn’t faring too well after meeting you. This didn’t go unnoticed by his fiancé. His usually carefree demeanor would space out from time to time now. Staring far off.

It happens occasionally. Atsumu seeing you when he does things you used to do together. He told kira that early into their relationship because he said he felt like that was emotional cheating but kira said it was fine. That he’ll get over it soon.

He did love kira unquestionably but from time to time, he’d get glimpses of you from her. When she cooks dinner, he remembers how your sleepy self almost burned the kitchen at 2am while trying to cook because he said he was hungry. Or how when they hung out at atsumu’s secret spot overlooking the city, he would remember how you went there whenever you didn’t feel okay. He’d also reminisce all the times he waited for you there after you left, Hoping you’d find your way back. But you never did. A part of him was glad. He never would have met kira if that didn’t happen. But you were a really close friend before you became lovers which is probably why he wanted the closure that was long over due. Maybe then, the deja vus would finally stop.

“Atsumu, hey, baby, you okay?” Kira was holding his face in her hands, trying to snap him out of deep thoughts

“Sorry, I was tired today.” He kissed her forehead

“It’s okay, just rest, okay? I love you”

“I love you too”

──────

“So y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” One of your pushy uncles ask

“Nah, I’m working on my career” you say it as if it’s a script. It’s what you always say when someone asks about your love life. It wasn’t like you didn’t try. It’s just that every time you did, you got bored. Maybe it was your taste in men but they all ended up being jerks anyway so you stopped bothering and focused on yourself instead.

“What about that one guy, what was his name? Atsumu? You guys were together for years!”

“Ah no, we broke up a long time ago.”

“Too bad, that kid was really good for you too”

He really was too good for you.

Fake laughs and awkward smiles filled the rest of the lunch meeting with your family. You hated how you were expected to marry someone just because they think 26 is too old to be single. Besides, as much as you hated to admit it, the only person you ever wanted to marry was already promised to someone else. And as much as you wanted him back, you were far from deserving and you weren’t about to try and ruin a happy relationship, not especially when he seems the happiest he has ever been.

You sat on your bed, phone open, atsumu’s newly saved number on the screen, he gave you his number back at the airport for when you were ready, one tap on the screen and you can talk to him. But what would you say? Was it okay to tell everything over a phone call? Maybe you should just run away again. It was actually what you were going to originally do but osamu’s words rang in your head:

“Give him closure. He deserves at least that much. You have no idea”

Over and over.

“Damn osamu. Why is he always right?”

<< text >>

10:43 pm

y/n: Miya, I have to leave japan again soon, for work. If you want to talk, I can stop by tokyo again before I leave.

10:50 pm

Miya: Okay. Whenever you’re ready :)

10:52 pm

y/n: next week monday morning, is that okay?

10:59 pm

Miya: Yes, see you! You’ll know where to find me.

<< end of conversation >>

His last message made you laugh a little but at the same time, there was a sting to the casualty of his words. It reminded you of how he used to invite you to that place. You knew what he was talking about. He wanted to meet you at the place where you both ran to whenever things got rough. The little spot overlooking the city which held so much memories for you two. Maybe where you started was where you would finally completely end too.

You just knew, this was going to hurt.

───────── ·....𖥸....· ─────────

a/n: The last part if probably going to be way longer than the first two parts, I was supposed to post these 3 days in a row but a part of my draft got deleted so I have to re-write it still which is why it’s going to take a while before I post it T_T

────────────────────────

Tagging: @naturakaashi

[heliads]

The Lookout (Part One)

Your brother, Stiles Stilinski, has a feeling that newcomer Theo Raeken only means trouble for the McCall pack. When he sends you to spy on the werewolf, you’re not sure what to expect.

masterlist / part two

You sigh irritably. The school day is over, it’s the weekend, the last thing you want to do is listen to your older brother yammer on about his classmate-related fears. However, Stiles Stilinski has rarely cared about what you did or did not want to do when it came to his werewolf-safety lectures, and so he continues on speaking. This time, the topic of this discussion is one Theo Raeken; namely, the fact that the guy is obviously a supervillain. At least according to Stiles.

“Look, you can’t tell me it’s not suspicious. Werewolves don’t just show up in Beacon Hills without something to prove. Besides, the guy even walks and talks evil.” You push open the doors to the school with a sigh. “I think he’s fine. You’re just being paranoid.” Stiles lets out an irritated huff. “Usually, the paranoid people in movies end up being right. You should listen to me. I could be right about this.”

You give him a look. “Or you could be wrong, and we’ll just be running away from someone who could be a potential ally for no good reason. Honestly, I think you’re just overreacting.” Stiles stares at you, utter bewilderment crossing his face. “You know what, I think I know what it is.” He stabs a finger in your general direction, suddenly decisive. “You think he’s hot. That’s what it is. You don’t want to listen to me because you think he’s hot and you don’t want to consider him a bad guy.”

You turn to him with a look of utter shock. “Excuse me?” Stiles gestures loosely with his hand as the two of you continue walking through the school parking lot. “You keep staring at him, you smile when he talks, you don’t want to listen when I tell you he’s obviously a bad guy. It’s simple- you think he’s hot.” You let out a snort of laughter. “You stare at him more than I do, Stiles. Besides, if we’re talking about staring then we need to talk about Lydia. You can’t keep your eyes off of her. Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

Stiles swats your shoulder. “We’re not talking about Lydia. We’re talking about Theo.” You flash your brother a smile as you reach his beloved Jeep, opening the door to slide inside the passenger’s seat. “I think you’re being ridiculous. And, even if I did happen to think he’s hot, it wouldn’t matter. You’re still insane.” Stiles lets out a squawk of protest as he enters the car as well. 

The two of you are so involved in your argument that you don’t notice the brown-haired boy pausing by the door of his truck. He turns when he hears his name tossed around by you and your brother, but a small smile rises unbidden to his lips when he hears your laughter. The boy hesitates a second longer, and then the bubble of your conversation is drowned out by the sound of the Jeep’s engine starting up. The boy’s grin slides away as if he’s suddenly remembered himself, although he does cut one last glance your way, eyes lingering on your easy smile.

You know something is about to happen when Scott, Lydia, Kira, and Malia all show up to your house. You raise an eyebrow at your brother when they all file into your kitchen. Your father is coincidentally absent, although you’re sure Stiles timed this to happen when he was out on a shift as sheriff. “I’m sure I’d like to know what this is all about. I usually get told about pack meetings, but now I’m getting a little worried.”

Stiles folds his hands together. “I didn’t tell anyone that there was a pack meeting until just now because I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t have anyone joining in.” Malia cuts in. “By ‘anyone’, he means Theo. The whole point of this is about Theo.” You grin. “I had a feeling it would somehow tie to him.” Stiles looks miffed. “He’s a threat, okay? And by the end of this, I’ll be able to prove it.” You watch him with a quizzical eye. “What does that mean?”

Stiles leans forward across the table. “I want you to go spy on Theo. You’re going to go pretend to be his friend and everything, and you’re going to find out what he’s hiding from us.” You mirror his stance in front of the table. “If you’re right and Theo’s such a bad guy, why would he tell me anything? This plan makes no sense.” Scott steps forward. “That’s why we need you to convince him to let down his guard. Theo assumes Stiles is on to him, right? If he thinks he can steer you away from Stiles, you might be able to trick him into giving up some information.”

You consider this. “You really think I can be a spy for the pack? You actually think this is going to work?” Stiles reaches across the table to clap you on the shoulder. “I know it’s going to work. He won’t suspect a thing.” You sigh. “I wish I had your confidence. I’m fairly sure he’s going to see through this the first time I try to talk to him.”

You have no idea why Stiles thinks this is going to work. It’s a terrible plan, and the chances of it succeeding are slim to none. That being said, you have never backed down from a challenge, especially not from your brother, and so you’re certainly not about to start now. You form a plan: simple, but probably effective. When leaving school the next day, you have an argument with Stiles, coincidentally in front of Theo’s truck. You allow the werewolf to see you walk away angrily from your brother, and allow yourself a small smile when you see his truck come to a stop as you’re walking furiously down the sidewalk.

You look over when you hear a shout from Theo’s direction. “You need a lift?” You pretend to look hesitant, and then suddenly decisive, as if not wanting to trust Theo and then remembering that Stiles (who you’re supposed to hate) doesn’t like Theo. You walk over, sliding into the passenger’s seat. Theo raises an eyebrow when you close the truck door a little louder than normal. “You want to tell me what happened?” You just sigh, staring out over the road ahead of you. “I hate my brother.”

Theo chuckles as he drives away from the sidewalk, continuing on down the road. “What, has he finally gotten to you too?” You heave an exasperated sigh. “He won’t let me do anything. He keeps repeating this same excuse that he wants to ‘protect me from all the supernaturals’ but he won’t let me prove myself. He’s not even that much older than me, and I can handle myself.” Theo smirks. “If he can’t see that, he’s an idiot.” You grumble to yourself. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Theo ends up driving you back to your house, coming to a stop in your driveway. You turn to him. “Thanks for the ride. I didn’t really like the idea of having to walk all the way back here.” Theo offers you a cool grin. “Hey, no problem. If you ever want to get away from all this, my door is always open.” You smile quietly in spite of yourself. “Thanks. I might take you up on that.” You wave goodbye, jumping down out of the truck and walking to the door. You’re pleasantly surprised to note that Theo doesn’t leave until he sees you go in, making sure that you’ll be alright. You didn’t expect this to go so well this quickly, but you’re not about to complain.

Stiles arrives at your house a short while after you, and he bounds excitedly over to you. “So, how’d it go? Does he trust you unconditionally?” You laugh. “Isn’t Theo supposed to be a sinister, heartless supervillain? No, he doesn’t trust me.” Stiles holds up a finger to prove his point. “Yet. He doesn’t trust you yet. You can do this.” You groan, shaking your head as you try to hold back a grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The next morning, you make sure to keep up the pretense of pretending to hate your brother. Theo actually makes it surprisingly easy to continue with the act- you’ve barely walked outside to eat your lunch when he’s already calling you over to sit next to him. You slide onto the bench, a few tables down from Stiles and his friends. Theo shrugs at your raised eyebrow. “Hey, you were glaring at Stiles so I assumed you still weren’t over the argument. I figured you might want somewhere else to eat.”

You grin. “And you want to make him mad because you know he doesn’t trust you?” Theo returns your twisting smile. “I’m not going to pretend like that didn’t cross my mind. I mean, if you don’t like him why should I?” You call up a look of utter indignation. “He’s just being so annoying! He doesn’t trust me to do anything. Stiles isn’t even that much older than me but he’s already trying to be a helicopter parent.” This is exactly what Theo wants to hear, and you know it. Theo leans forward, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “Then what do you say we ditch him? I’m willing to bet that there’s more to Beacon Hills than the limits of Scott’s pack.”

Stiles warned you about Theo’s manipulation tactics, the way he tries to sway everyone to his side. You can’t deny that he’s good at it- if it weren’t for the fact that the little dispute between you and Stiles was completely fabricated you’d almost believe that Theo truly wants to help you. This being said, you can spot Theo’s lies reaching out to you and so you wrap them around yourself, calling up your lies to combat his. Two can play at this game.

You flash him a smile. “Sounds perfect. Meet me after school?” Theo nods. “We can take my truck.” Across the tables, Stiles finally glances up and sees you. The look of bitter annoyance on his face upon seeing you with Theo isn’t hard to fake, although it still makes you and Theo laugh. This might be more fun than you had first envisioned.

How do you convince an apparently betraying conman and serial liar to trust you? It’s surprisingly easy with Theo, actually. You end up spending more and more time together- drives to and from school turn into impromptu road trips, you meet up at his house or the school or the middle of the woods. You’re not sure you’ve ever laughed so much with anyone before, and it’s getting harder and harder to remember that you’re supposed to be spying on this guy, not actually becoming friends.

That being said, you have been able to uncover some information. Something is definitely up about Theo’s parents, outside of the signature dilemma uncovered by Stiles. You’ve seen the way Theo’s parents watch him when his back is turned, the way fear suddenly crops up in their eyes. They almost act like he’s a stranger, someone to be afraid of. You’re not sure why, but you find yourself making excuses to head away from them. Stiles would probably want you to stick around, try and figure out any more clues, but it’s so unnerving that you want to avoid his parents instead.

Also, there’s something not quite right about Theo’s story. You’ve heard him mention it a couple of times now- he was out skateboarding late at night, an alpha attacked, he was turned into a werewolf just like Liam and the rest. Yet Theo doesn’t own a skateboard, hasn’t for a while. In fact, you had casually asked him a question about skateboarding and he had completely drawn a blank. It makes no sense, which means that something is definitely wrong with his story. And if Theo is lying about how he became a werewolf, then he’s probably lying about why he came to Beacon Hills, which means that you and your friends might be in more danger than you had thought.

Even with all of this, though, you’re still not sure that you want to leave Theo’s side. When you told Stiles and the others about everything you’d uncovered about Theo, they’d been worried. Scott had pulled you aside, asking if you wanted to stay so close to Theo. If he was as dangerous as you think, you might be at risk if you continued hanging out with him away from the pack. Stiles, too, seems less certain of his foolproof plan for you to spy on the werewolf and mentioned that you might want to step away. Every time they ask, though, you make up excuses. There might be more to find out. It’ll be good to have someone get close to him, just in case. No matter what, though, you know one thing: you don’t think you could leave Theo if you tried.

These thoughts keep burning into the back of your mind, but you manage to push them aside for today. It’s a beautiful night, the sun having finally set and the colors of the dusk washed away into an all-encompassing inky black. The stars are spangled across the horizon, and a laugh is burning deep in your throat as you race Theo through the woods of the Beacon Hills Preserve. You technically shouldn’t be here this late at night, you know that, but for some reason, you can’t entirely force yourself to leave. You’re with Theo, he’ll make sure nothing happens to you.

Your feet pound on the packed earth, ducking under low-hanging branches and around fallen tree stumps. You think you’re alone, and then a pair of arms wrap around your waist and force you to a stop. A laugh bubbles out of you before you can help it, and you swat at Theo’s arms, although he doesn’t let go. “You ass, I thought you were farther behind me.” Theo’s voice is close to your ear, his face only inches from yours. “I’m a werewolf, remember? I could outrun you any day.”

You roll your eyes, although this just makes the smirk on Theo’s face broaden. “It’s mean, that’s what it is. Maybe I’m trying to finally be alone, you don’t know that.” Theo just chuckles, the sound deep in his chest and making you shiver. “If I believed that, I would have stopped running.” There’s a silence now, a silence that hangs over the two of you like a cloak. You realize where you are, where his hands still encircle your waist and his storm-grey eyes are still locked on yours. There’s a second of hesitation, and then he leans down and kisses you.

If you were smart, you would break away. If you were smart, you would realize that Theo Raeken is only doing this to get to you and to get to your pack, that he is more dangerous than you could know. Your best option is to leave, to stop before you get your heart involved. But that’s already happened, hasn’t it? Despite your best efforts, despite everything you know about Theo, you can’t help but kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and letting him wash away everything you can remember about the world.

Maybe you’re not supposed to be falling for Theo. You’re not sure that you ever had a choice.

[nightfurynova1217]

Near for the ask meme! 😊

Yaaaasss!! My best boi 💛💛

How I feel about this character

I mean, if that opening doesn't say it all then Idk what does XD He's definitely gotta be my favorite character in all of DN, it just... it doesn't matter what he does I just freaking love him with everything I have. Haha, I even remember saying that L was my favorite until I read the manga, then Near swore (just once) at one point and I couldn't stop laughing. It was then, that I knew... It was him. Plus he's fun to draw, once I figured out how to do his hair right, lol

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Alright this one gets a little weird. First off, I hc him as Ace, and if I were to just look him through canon, I couldn't see him with anyone... but boy, when I'm in the mood for fluff or AU's, LindaXNear is my OTP. By. Far. I could read or write about them all day. 💛

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Gotta say with Mello and/or L, again for the fluff AU's. I can definitely see either of them taking on a Big Brother(tm) role and I just live for found family. XD platonic relationships are underrated OOOH, and I definitely like the dynamics with him and Rester too! Tons of room to explore that relationship and the mutual respect and admiration they have for each other.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Oof, when it comes to Near, sometimes the unpopular thing is to even like him, haha! But on a bit more of a serious note, I actually think he wants friends and, though still introverted, gets really lonely (speaking from experience irl). Just someone to talk to really, but he never wanted to play outside like everyone else at Wammy's, because he sucked at any outdoor activities, and he was usually interested in things no one else was, so the only common ground he had was with studies. And even then the only time they'd talk to him about that was when they needed help. :/

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I would have LOVED to see why he likes Mello. We get some vague answers, like saying that he respects him and that Mello has strengths he doesn't, but I mean, Mello hated Near with a burning passion and is just a downright jerk to him, going so far as to point a freaking GUN at his head. I wanna see why Near tolerated that. Like are there happier memories that Near doesn't want to let go of and/or shaped the mentality of "There's good in you" or "It doesn't have to stay this way"? Bruh, we don't know! Because we know he hated Kira, or at least disliked him! So it's not like "it's not in him" to dislike Mello in return, or at least be indifferent. But no! He actively likes Mello in canon! I NEED ANSWERS!! fine I'll make 'em myself

[mikami]

Also, how do you think the main 5 genius (Light, Mikami, L, Mello, Near) would react to the Idea of someone equally intelligent as them? How do you think their reaction at first would be and do you think they accept someone as their equal after the given time? (idk why I feel like L knows he wouldn't like that idea and would try to show he is better, and for Light he didn't actually thought about the possibility of this and at first he would be pissed but after a while he would actually appreciate to have someone on his level and would realize he was lonely all this time. Idk I might be wrong)

For most of them, we see this happen in canon.

Mello spends his whole life knowing Near is on his level and slightly above his level - this pisses him off. I think he’d probably be more amenable to somebody who is exactly at his level instead of besting him, he could thrive off competing there, but overall? Mello wants to be The Best. That’s what he took from his upbringing in Wammy’s and threats to it are irritating to him.

Near doesn’t mind Mello, likes him even. I don’t get the sense that he’s really looking down on him either. Their levels are close enough that Near sees him as more or less an equal and he’d be just fine cooperating. Since Near values conversation more than most of the others, an equal is just a welcome chance for that.

L meets Light and he generally seems to value having somebody on his level to engage. That he is pissed at Kira is more about a threat to his position than a threat to his self-image as the smartest - generally L enjoys intellectual challenges, so competing with somebody of similar intellect is desirable. (There’s a lot of scenes where he reacts with delight when Light displays his smarts.) I don’t think L is insecure about his intelligence at all, so he doesn’t really perceive anybody else as a threat. He thinks of them as a challenge and challenges are fun.

Light meets L, and he likewise enjoys the challenge. I think if he met somebody who is an equal in daily life without the whole Kira vs L thing going on it might irritate him a little to have a rival (he really did never consider it much of an option), but overall it’d probably be a relief to his boredom to have someone on the same level around.

Mikami meanwhile....... does not care if you’re smart or not, are you MORAL (Mikami Edition) though?? If you’re not, he fucking hates you. It’s simple as that. Granted, it would piss him off even more than usual if someone was immoral AND outperforming him.... An equal he considers righteous though? Cautious yearning.... he wants to believe................ but can he believe...........

[voidstilesplease]

command me to be well

(a Beacon Hills Academy for the Supernaturals ficlet)

~•~

Supernatural creatures are known and accepted in society, and they have their branch and section in everything - the government, religion, court justice, health, food production, etc. They coexist with humans. There are still supremacist groups on both ends of the spectrum, but as a whole, supernaturals and humans share the world in equal.

In Beacon Hills Academy for the Supernaturals, mages (magic wielders) and shapeshifters (werewolves, werefoxes, were-coyotes, etc.) study and learn about themselves, strengths, and weaknesses, and adaptation in the human world. 

Stiles takes both mage and shapeshifter classes. His mother had been a fire werefox, and his grandmother a mage. The magic ability stays dormant in between generations, so Stiles received the spark that skipped his mother. Stiles's dad is the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, Homo Sapiens division. (It's not what it's called, but Stiles uses the term to annoy his father.) 

Every werefox can shift to their animal forms since birth. Their blood has no infectious components like werewolves, to turn an existing creature into one. So their kind only reproduces through procreation, but the power comes only between the ages of eighteen to twenty and never predictable. There are thirteen classifications of werefoxes: Heaven, Wind, Spirit, Fire, Earth, River, Ocean, Mountain, Forest, Thunder, Time, Sound, and Dark. And they all have to study every single one element through simulations and a weird practice called internalization. It's like the Buddhists' enlightenment when they have to "seek within themselves the core of their being" or whatever crap like that.

His mage classes are much worse. As a werefox, his reading skills are for shit, even with his human blood. His kind takes time to make sense of written symbols -it's called dyslexia in the human tongue- and so it proves to be a problem in his magic lessons.

"Stiles!" Kira, also a werefox and his non-biological sister, appears at his side after class. "Come over this afternoon and have dinner at home. Dad is making sushi."

The mention of sushi makes his mouth water, but he curls his lips downward. "I can't. I'm on my way to solitary study."

She winces sympathetically, "Yikes."

The solitary study is another word for detention in the Supernatural school. The students are put into confinement to reflect and read. It could be for an hour up to five -their offense and the amount of hate the teacher has for them decides the length of the stay. It doesn't sound bad when you hear of it the first time, but the stillness of being alone in a white room, being forced to think, drives everyone crazy. Stiles is probably the one person in the school who has seen those walls the most.

"What happened?" She asks, hoisting her backpack, forehead creasing intently.

Stiles shrugs, "In my mage class, we were practicing an incantation. I mispronounced a word because the symbols were flying all over the page," they stop walking when they reach the hallway that will separate them; Kira to the exit, and Stiles to his punishment. "All the light bulbs in the room broke simultaneously, and the shards went everywhere, mostly lodged in my classmates' and teacher's faces."

"Ouch,"

Stiles hums, curling his lips. "My incantation teacher hates me, just as much as I hate him. Every mistake I make is an excuse for him to send me to solitary. He also thinks I'm doing it on purpose. He gave me five hours today, and I'm expecting another tomorrow for the potion I fucked up earlier in another of his class."

"But that's unfair," Kira says, indignant for Stiles. "We're dyslexic. Every teacher should consider the limitations of each of us."

Stiles purses his lips but doesn't say anything. He doesn't mention to Kira that when the symbols rearrange in his mind, it's not always a gibberish mess. Sometimes, they're also perfectly readable -and quite harmful, depending on the caster's intention. He doesn't mention that more than half the time, he purposely utters curses and adds the wrong ingredients to concoctions. Stiles only does it for fun, though, to ruffle his teachers and enemies. He's a school jester; everyone knows that. He doesn't mean to cause pain to anyone -not all the time.

He's not vicious or vengeful. He swears he's not.

He's only a playful fox, curious with the less explored potentials of his power -even its violent capacity.

~•~

But it gets worse. It becomes an inclination more than a mere curiosity, especially when Stiles meets him.

In his fourth year in the Supernatural school, the management opened a program for the underaged supernaturals in the custody center. They're the young, homeless lawbreakers abandoned to the care of social workers after countless encounters with the law enforcement and their family's depletion of funds to cover the fines for damages they have caused.

The program grants them one term of attendance in the school instead of being instructed by tutors at the center, and a second one if the first term yields positive reports.

There are eight of them, and all are shapeshifters. There are three werewolves, a kanima, a wendigo, a chameleon, an electric eel (Stiles doesn't want to know how this kind came to be), and a were-coyote. All of them have criminal records, of course, but one has a count for murder - and his sister, no less. And Stiles knew him before his lock-up. They had not been friends because of Stiles's mistrust of canine shapeshifters, but he recognizes him right at first sight in years.

But while werefoxes prefer to stay away from the dogs, the latter doesn't have such urge to keep scarce, especially one among the outlaws: Theo Raeken.

He's taken one look at Stiles and decided to torment him. Witnessing Stiles do illegal magic did not help the case. Instead, it invited Theo more. Theo stalks him (as much as he can inside school grounds), stares at him, vies for his attention, pushes all the wrong but right buttons. Stiles feels repulsed by the way his blood thrums in Theo's presence. He's disgusted with himself for getting excited by his challenge. Stiles reminds himself daily that it's Theo -the one who murders their blood, and will probably have no qualms on staining their hands with someone else's. But Theo keeps provoking him, daring him to let go of caution. 

One day, Stiles does.

He unleashes himself and leaves Theo bloody, beaten-up, broken, and exhilarated, and himself satisfied for the first time. Theo stops prodding him after that. He starts tempting him: We can run. None of them listens. Their truth is the only truth. And Stiles thinks he's right.

He's almost eighteen. His fox's element should be manifesting -and it looks like it is.

~•~

"What happens if I turn out to be the wrong kind?" Stiles asks Kira one night, in the middle of video game night at her house.

Kira is focused on the screen, but she echoes Stiles. "The wrong kind?"

"A dark fox,"

That pulls Kira's attention away from the screen quicker than they can run. Her eyes are wide with alarm when she presses pause and turns to Stiles. She opens her mouth but speaks nothing for a long time. It seems she's too shocked for words. Finally, she shakes her head. "You're not."

Stiles sighs, putting down his controller. "There's one out of thirteen possibilities that I am. It's little, but it's there nonetheless."

Kira scoots closer, holding Stiles's arm, her clutch tight. "Yes, but," she stammers, "there hasn't been one in a long time."

"Of course, there isn't," Stiles agrees, looking at Kira. "They're exterminated as soon as they present to snuff out any chance of gaining power and growing a second tail."

"But you're not one," Kira says forcefully, eyes suspiciously moist.

Stiles replies softly, "I enjoy causing mayhem."

She shakes her head hard, "We all like trouble, Stiles. That's sort of what we are,"

Stiles can't look at her eyes when he admits his truth, so he turns away. "I inflict pain," Kira freezes in her touch. "and like it. The sight of blood makes me sick but with pleasure. I-" he pauses, wipes the sweat that gathered in his nose. He swallows. "I want to get into someone's head and twist their mind. I have done it, and I want to do it again."

Kira draws uneven breaths beside him. Her scent has turned sweet with fear -and though it makes his stomach twist, Stiles inhales it, savors it.

Kira's voice quivers, "If you learn to suppress it-"

"If it can be suppressed and controlled, there would've been no vulpine law authorizing the killing of a nogitsune."

Kira bows her head in defeat, sniffing.

"My magic," his whispering voice is loud in her room, reverberating in its four walls. He's been coming here since he was a child. Who knows when and if he can have the chance again. "It knows what I might be. It flows in my veins with my blood, rushing when I'm doing what I shouldn't be."

They're silent for a long moment; Stiles refuses to meet Kira's eyes, and Kira strives to calm her racing heart. She doesn't recoil from her touch, even when she was afraid. Now that the fear has subsided, she moves to kneel in front of him and takes his face between her small hands, prompting him to face her. When he raises his head, Kira's eyes are glowing, fiery around the black. Stiles flashes his in response.

"If you are," Kira says, tone final and sure. "I'm with you. You're my brother, and I love you."

Stiles knows she will stand by her words, but he doesn't wish her to. Kira has a whole life ahead of her that she can't spend hiding a nogitsune or running with one.

Because Stiles will run, damn if he won't. He's not going down, and he won't let them catch him. 

He leans his head against her hand, kissing the soft palm of it. He rubs his nose on the residual unease still clinging underneath her skin. "I love you, too."

And then he will come back invincible.

~•~

[asterekmess]

Somebody tickled my salty-bone (in a good way. I love you. thank you.) and now I wanna vent about the absolute shitshow that is Stiles and Scott’s friendship.

Forewarning, I have a v faulty memory and I like to ramble. So. Obligatory Read More.

hoo boy. Now look, I am a salty little sea witch. I don’t like Scott. I love me some Stiles. Listen, I want to acknowledge here that Stiles isn’t perfect. He’s not the best friend that could ever friend, especially not at the beginning of the show. Yeah, he says stuff that riles Scott up. And yeah, he chucks lacrosse balls at Scott bc he’s pissed off at him. And he gets him beat up by blaming him for keying a car. These are objectively shitty things.

Now on to Scott. I’m starting at the beginning, because some brit chick told me once it’s a good place to start. It’s an anti-scott favorite to point out Star Wars. But I wanna talk about the history of Stiles and Scott’s friendship in general. We’re not explicitly told how long they’ve been friends. It’s implied “for ages” but there’s a lot of evidence that points to them not knowing each other until later (my preference is the 5th grade, just after Stiles’ mom died).

Stiles had a boa once, apparently. But Scott doesn’t know this. Stiles was apparently friends with Heather since they were in diapers but Scott doesn’t know her. Stiles has panic attacks and apparently a social anxiety disorder, but Scott has no clue about it.

Stiles doesn’t actually share many, if any, passions/interests with Scott besides Lacrosse. We know Stiles can skate, but Scott has never done it before Ice Pick episode. We know Stiles has other friends like Heather, but they’ve somehow never been introduced to Scott. Stiles plays videogames “Online gaming community that battles mythical creatures” but Scott has no clue what he’s talking about. Stiles has a favorite movie series that Scott has never watched. Scott, if I’m honest, got totally shafted by the show. He has no interests. We see a little dartboard on his wall in his room. We see posters. But he doesn’t do ANYTHING except play lacrosse and go to work at the vet. Then he gets a motorbike, which I guess....is supposed to count as a personality trait? We know jack-shit about Scott’s hobbies, even though he’s the main character. And what we do know is in Negatives. We know he has a shit vocabulary. We know he doesn’t like to read. (at least...before his “better Scott McCall program”) We know he doesn’t bowl. We know he sucks at literally all school related things. We know he has literally no other friends besides Stiles, until he becomes a werewolf.

But to me, what stands out is how...unobliging Scott is about their friendship?

It’s established that Scott usually runs around with Stiles when he’s got an idea, yeah. Two bros being dumbasses. Got it. But Stiles clearly has this whole mentality/joke view of them that’s Batman & Robin “I don’t wanna be Robin all the time” but Scott just sort of...shuts him down? “No one’s batman and robin any of the time”

I acknowledge that it’s a sort of tense situation...kind of? He’s sneaking into an empty bus lot to go sniff at the crime scene. He’s not really in danger here? But his tone of voice is so dismissive? Like he’s completely confused that Stiles would ever think that. But if they’ve been friends for ages, why would he only just now be finding out about it? And why would he dismiss it if they’re that close?

Then, of course, there’s Star Wars. Like...fine, whatever, Scott doesn’t like Star Wars. Except that it’s not that he doesn’t like it. It’s that he refuses to watch it. He knows nothing about Stiles’ favorite movie? He gets frustrated when Stiles makes Star Wars jokes because he doesn’t get them. But even KiRA is willing to watch it, and he just laughs about it.

Jackson and Lydia were supposed to be garbage to each other, but she still watched lacrosse videos with him and he watched The Notebook however many times Lydia wanted. If the couple we’re supposed to think is shitty is more kind to each other than Scott is to Stiles, what am I supposed to take away from that?

There’s also the part where he never just...believes Stiles? Not unless it’s in his favor. Sure, it sounds crazy that Stiles tells him he’s a werewolf and he’s gonna go crazy on a full moon. But Scott watched his bite completely disappear. He knows the shit he did on the field was bizarre and physically impossible for him. He doesn’t need his inhaler anymore. He heard Allison talking from Outside the School. There’s so much evidence to back Stiles up here, it’s ridiculous. And Scott still won’t believe him. Stiles tells Scott he thinks Matt’s the killer. Scott asks him why, Stiles doesn’t have an answer, and Scott immediately shuts him down. He tells Scott that it isn’t Lydia, and Scott argues with him, citing a test that he later admits he thinks is bullshit! Stiles tells Scott that virgins are being sacrificed and he’s scared he’ll be next, Scott laughs at him. Stiles tells Scott he thinks he was the one who wrote that shit on the board, the one who planted the bomb. Scott refuses to listen to him. He warns him about Theo, gets completely blown off. And Stiles is almost never wrong. But Scott continues to ignore him and refuses to believe him. Meanwhile Stiles believes Scott about Derek being dangerous. He believes Scott about Derek being the one in the bus. About how Peter is going after Allison (He must be going after Allison, the national archery finalist who’s always surrounded by hunters. Surely she’s “vulnerable.” It’s not like there’s someone way more vulnerable following Scott around, someone that Peter might force into helping him find Derek? HMMM?) Think about it, when does Stiles ever doubt Scott?

How he outright ignores Stiles just constantly? Even after he loses his temper with Stiles in the room in episode 1, he still goes to the Fucking Party. Even after Stiles tells him he can’t be in lacrosse anymore because it’s too dangerous, he ‘tries’ to quit and when he’s told that if he won’t play one game, he’s off first line, he outright ignores Stiles and fights with him until Stiles backs off and lets him play, where he proceeds to do EXACTLY what Stiles and Derek thought he would, and loses control. If ALlison hadn’t been there. People would have died. A kid from the other team saw Scott’s wolf eyes. He exposed himself! Then there’s the parts where he just pretends Stiles doesn’t exist. When he goes to hang out with Allison, and Stiles can’t get him on the phone, and when he finally answers he admits “did you get my texts?” “Yeah, all nine million of them” that he was literally just refusing to text Stiles back while he sat in the car with Allison and did nothing else. He won’t tell Stiles where he’s going, and he turns his phone off once they get to the woods. He also turns his phone off while Stiles is trying to take care of Derek, who IS POISONED and Bleeding and SHOT. Instead of trying to do anything he willfully ignores it and makes out with Allison, then wanders the house with Allison, then eats dinner with the family. He could’ve pulled the ‘i need to use the restroom’ ANY FUCKING TIME. He could’ve explained in a text at ANY TIME what he was doing and why it was taking so long. he just refused. When Stiles calls at the pool, Scott has no reason to hang up. Yeah, the phone made noise while it was ringing but after he hung up on Stiles he continued to just sit there with Allison and whisper to each other. He could’ve fucking talked on the phone! There was NOthing stopping him!

Then there’s how much danger he’s happy to put Stiles in? Like, he still hated Derek and thought he was a dangerous thug, while ignoring Stiles’ messages and leaving him alone with Derek. They knew Jackson was dangerous and had attacked Stiles before, and he left Stiles alone in the van with him?? Jackson wouldn’t need to break out of the vehicle, just the cuffs and Stiles would be dead. But for some reason Scott goes to school? LIke yeah I get it. He might fail his classes. But Stiles gave up first line just to check if Scott’s mom was the Alpha. Why couldn’t allison have watched Jackson with an arrow pointed at his head? She was better equipped than Stiles and in no danger of failing classes.

Look, I know I’m only talking about the first couple seasons but I have a rlly bad memory and I haven’t seen s3a or s3b in a long ass time. (gonna have to watch ‘em later tho while I work on the rewrite)

There’s probably more I’m missing. I’m just so damn cranky and sad. I’ll probably add more eventually when I get mad enough abt it.

[vermillionflames]

hi... idk what this is hehe :)

nozel x oc

word count: 2k+

warnings: language, mention of blood and self-stabbing (non violent)

PROLOGUE

“There, there, Your Highness,” the guard said as he wiped away the princesses tears, “It must’ve been so scary down there. I’m sorry you had to go all alone this time. If I had permission or the strength to go with you I would. But you’re alright now. I’ll be standing guard outside your door all night if you need me.” 

The guard had a smile so small you would only see it if you knew to look for it. The princess didn’t need to see the smile to know he meant what he said. Out of all the soldiers in the Kingdom hers were the most loyal. 

“Please don’t tell my father I was crying… or the King!”

“I would never, it will be our little secret, alright, Princess Seraphina,” he stuck out it pink to show he meant his promise.

“Thank you,” the young girl crawled back under her blankets as her guard headed towards the door, “Goodnight, Dante.”

REAL TIME I GUESS

You know when you tell your husband for days to not do something because there will be a negative outcome, but he does it anyway? And what you told him would happen, does? And yet he still acts surprised and upset? Sometimes takes his anger out on you via a cold shoulder and glare? No admittance that you were right? That’s what it’s like to be married to the Captain of the Silver Eagles. 

I love Nozel dearly but he is more annoying than my father-in-law and the ladies of the court asking about babies. Actually, now that I think about it, the whole Silva family had something about them… 

“Vice Captain? Are you alright?”

That’s one way to snap me out of a scheme

“Oh, Nils, I’m sorry. A thought crossed my mind and I got lost in it… What were you saying?” Will probably get scolded for that later.

“I was just telling you how I’d improve myself before my next mission with what I learned on the previous one… Do you think Captain will be pleased with my plan?” 

Royalty always wants to improve themselves without much training, but I can’t say that to him without it causing a rile so I just smile at him.

“I think Nozel will be very pleased. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I do have a lot of work to get to,” I gesture to some papers on my desk. 

He nods and takes his leave. I sigh and turn my chair to face the window. Noelle should have gotten her grimoire by now, surely. I do not want to do this paperwork or deal with the hell my in laws will unleash on their baby sister, but if anyone had a chance of redirecting their attention to another failure it was me and my womb. 

I play with the ring on my left hand. It was his mothers, in fact Nozel had gifted me with more jewelry than I could ever wear that had come from Lady Acier’s collection. Sometimes I wondered if he got it all or first dibs and took it all because he was the oldest. Perhaps her collection had just been so expansive I could have a shit load and the other kids could do. The girls didn’t ever bat a lash when I wore her crowns and necklaces. 

There’s a firm knock on my door, they don’t pause before opening it. Husbands, ya know? I looked over my shoulder to see he’s entered my office, not bothering to shut the door (to avoid scandal though I’ve never understood how married people can be scandalous with each other? The policies of this country were difficult to understand). 

“Yes,” I ask, raising my brow at him.

“Noelle has received her grimoire,” his face was bleak.

“And?”

“And she still cannot control her magic. She’s still a shame to House Silva.”

The fluctuation in his mana told me all I needed to know.

“Nozel-”

“Don’t try to coddle me, Seraphina. You don’t understand what this means for my family and our reputation.”

I wonder in our 14 years of marriage if he’s ever learned that I can read his mind and emotions. He kept on the mean big brother act and never shut it off. However, I like to take opportunities to argue when I see them. I turn my whole body to face him and cross my arms.

“Like how we don’t have an heir?”

“Don’t start this right now,” his voice was low and serious, “Nebra, Solid, and I will be having dinner with our father and grandparents tonight.”

“Then I’ll join you,” I shot up out of my chair, “It would look bad if I stayed here.”

His stare was cold. I started to prepare an argument in my head.

“Fine. But wear something nice,” he moved his attention to the deep cut of my dress, “Maybe we should get your robes adjusted.”

“Oh darling, I think that’s the most attention you’ve given my breasts in our whole marriage.” I bit my tongue, a little too late for that, Sera. Oops. 

“Tsh,” Nozel turned and headed for the door, “You should probably have the maids at the castle help you get ready… We both know you won’t be able to braid your own hair.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The door closed and I was alone again. The mother fucker. He was right, but that mother fucker. If he knew what kind of foul language I had stored in my head for him… Maybe tonight will be the night all chaos explodes. Dinner and a show with me as the main actress. 

I started to make a mental list of things to bring up during our argument as I made a spacial magic gate to my quarters at the Silva Castle. 

----

I opted for an emerald gown with silver jewelry for tonight. Rule number one of House Silva: all the jewelry is silver. If you happen to have gold it was either a gift from House Vermillion or House Kira and you only ever wore it to fit a dress code House Vermillion made for a ball. Same thing for red and blue. Do not wear red or blue unless you want to piss off your husband, which I’ll admit is fun but he threw the poor dress into the fireplace the next morning. We don’t even share a room, he had to wake up early, come in, and find it to do that. 

Rule number two: be very, very good at keeping your thoughts to yourself. Especially when it comes to Noelle, Acier, and your lack of offspring. 

“Seraphina, perhaps you decided to join us because you and Nozel have some good news to share,”  if Nebra was anything it was blunt and to the point. 

I gave Nozel the side eye.

“No,” He said while lifting his wine to his lips, “Just didn’t want to bother socializing with the rest of the squad tonight.”

I gave her a meek smile.

“Well, Seraphina, I have something to show you, Solid rose from his seat and walked over to Noelle who was staring at her food with tears in her eyes. He pulled her grimoire out from her side while she winced. “Look at how thin this is. You’re more a Silva than Noelle could ever be.”

I dropped my shoulders and focused on my plate in front of me.

“I guess...” 

----

If I got anything from that dinner it’s that I needed to find a way to sneak Noelle out of the castle and get her away; at least for a day. I was sat at my vanity removing all the tiny gems the servant had insisted on putting in my hair. If I couldn’t stand up to her to my in-laws the least I could do was get her away. God how many gems were there? I started at the bell to call a maid… I really hate doing this but if there’s one thing I cannot do it is my hair. 

After a few moments a young girl came to my room and went right to work undoing the braids and taking out the gems. I watched her in the mirror, she never took her eyes off my head.

“So, what’s the hot gossip from the servants quarters?”

She paused.

“I’m sure nothing would be of interest to you ma’am.”

I purse my lips. 

“If I say you can keep all the gems in my hair?”

“That wouldn’t be necessary, the masters pay us kindly.”

“Oh… well surely you heard something that would be of interest to me?”

“Ma’am, I know you don’t stay here often, but typically you wouldn’t speak to me so casually…”

“Who cares about that? It’s late. It’s just you and me here. Everyone else is probably settled into bed,” No budge. Oh. “Lord Nozel won’t be visiting my chambers tonight. It’s alright.”

“Surely the Captain visits his wife every night… You two are in love and you’re so beautiful.”

Great. Not the can of worms I wanted to open. And now I gave her shit to say about me!

“He stays in his room when I am bleeding.” And now I have to stab myself or else she’ll know I lied. Dammit. 

“Oh, the other servant didn’t mention you were… Would you like me to get you some warm towels?”

“No, what I would like is some information that only someone in your position would know.”

“Really, ma’am. There’s nothing happening these days.”

“Please?”

“Um… well I have a friend that works for House Vermillion and she said they’ve been preparing Lady Mereoleona’s room for her return. They expect her to arrive tomorrow afternoon.”

Oh god.

“And Lord and Lady Vermillion had to have meat brought in from the town! The chefs don’t even know how to cook meat!”

“Surely they can just give it to the girl and let her cook it herself…”

“You’re funny, Lady Seraphina.”

“Well, ya know, someone in the family has to be! Thank you for your help. You’re dismissed, go off to bed now.”

The girl bowed and left.

And she had the right fucking idea.

I need to leave too. Mereoleona? No thank you. God only knows what kind of torment she has planned for me. Actually, probably not God. Probably no higher being.

I need to hide somewhere and take Noelle with me. I throw off my dressing gown and scramble to put on clothes, throwing random shit I think I’ll want in a bag. Real manic style. Now if there’s one thing I am not it is a bad liar. I throw the blankets off my bed and lay as if I’m going to sleep. Crossing my leg so it sorta comes to wear my center lays and take out a knife and cut my leg… which heals pretty quickly given my abilities. I’m almost certain it’s not enough to be convincing but I am far more concerned in avoiding the Vermillion to care. 

Next stop, Noelle’s room. I knock on the door. No answer so I help myself. She’s asleep, dry tears around her eyes. I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, wake up. Noelle.”

She gasps and her eyes fly open, instantly putting her arms in defense. I take a step back… They didn’t wake her up to hurt her… did they?

“Pack a bag, we’re going into hiding.”

“What?”

“Lady Mereoleona is coming back for her yearly visit. I’m taking you and we’re gonna go hide at the beach castle.” Yeah, I married into a two castle family. Had its perks.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my baby sister by marriage and I think we both could use a little vacation. Don’t you agree?”

“Really? But what about Nozel?”

“I’ll deal with him if he notices. Chances are no one will know. So get up, grab your stuff, and let's go.”

She got out of bed quick. I sat at her vanity while she gathered some things. 

“Also, no servants.”

“No servants?!” She turned me so quick she almost snapped her neck.

“You’ll live. This is about survival. Now,” I stand to make a portal to the beach castle, “let’s go.”

[raleighcarrera]

jinx

the wayhaven chronicles | mason x mc (kira langford)

mason and the detective go home together after the carnival. set immediately following the end of book 2.

(this is @choicesarehard and @raleighcarrera‘s fault)

~4.1k words | E (18+)

“well... it’s getting late.” he’s doing his best not to look at her too obviously as the detective yawns and stretches, but the way her body moves under the moonlight and the soft strip of skin that appears for him to ogle when her shirt rides up makes it pretty much impossible.

against his will, his mind is drawn back to what they’d done in that dark corner of the haunted house, just about thirty minutes ago. mason’s tongue drags along his bottom lip, as though still tasting her, somehow. he wonders if the mark he’d left on the back of her neck while he fucked her from behind has darkened into a bruise yet. 

he twists, scowling as soon as he catches sight of the way felix is grinning at him. the obnoxious expression on his face lets him know that he’s been more obvious than he might’ve hoped for.

“what?” he demands, dropping his voice so kira won’t hear him. she’s talking to nate, anyway, smiling at something he’s said. her eyes crinkle at the corners. mason averts his gaze. 

“oh, nothing.” felix’s smile is a mile wide. “just wondering what had you two caught up for so long.”

mason rolls his eyes. before he can bite out his retort, kira turns away from nate, seemingly addressing them all. “i’ll see you guys soon?”

their eyes find each other’s. he says nothing, simply holding her gaze. that ever-present electricity seems to crackle in the space between them. even though she’s talking to everyone, she’s looking at him. 

“of course,” adam answers brusquely, though his voice sounds far away. reluctantly, mason directs his eyes to him. adam’s already looking at him, something forceful on his expression. he’s seen that look before.

“i’ll walk you to your car,” mason offers, turning and heading toward the parking lot without waiting for her. he smirks into the darkness as her shoes hit the concrete a little faster, the detective obviously rushing to catch up. 

“you know,” she says, as soon as she’s at his side again, “you’re not a very effective body guard if you run off and leave me behind.”

his grin sharpens at its edges. “trust me, this isn’t my preferred method of guarding your body.”

she laughs, and he’s surprised to find that he’s grown to enjoy the way he never knows how she’s going to react to one of his overt flirtations. sometimes she gives as good as she gets, and sometimes she answers so sincerely it makes him uncomfortable, but no matter what she says or does, she always surprises him.

they reach her car in companionable silence, more quickly than he’d like. she slows to a stop in front of the driver’s side door. his eyes zero in on her face, and kira stares back evenly, as though she feels as drawn in as he does.

“you know,” she offers, her voice level, “you could come home with me.”

he stalls momentarily, though his recovery is swift, his answering grin all teeth. “yeah? you afraid of the dark?”

her shoulders roll with a shrug. again, he’s stuck by the way her body moves. “maybe i just want some more time with you.”

mason barks out a laugh to distract from the unwelcome and unfamiliar feeling that courses through him. it’s almost something like fondness -- maybe something he felt once or twice before, a long time ago. “i’m flattered, sweetheart. but i’m not exactly a sleepover kind of guy.”

she blinks. purses her pretty lips. then opens the car door and ducks quickly into the front seat, but not so quickly that he misses the disappointment that flashes over her features. the detective shrugs, then simply says, “okay. i’ll see you around, then.”

before he’s fully aware of what he’s doing, his hand shoots out and grabs the door, stopping her from closing it. he leans in closer. “that wasn’t a ‘no.’”

the detective’s eyebrows lift. “it sure sounded like one.”

he shakes his head at her, his gaze heated where he’s still staring into her eyes. “just making myself clear.”

kira sighs at him, exasperated in a way that’s almost a little bit cute. “i think i’ve got it by now. get in.”

he tsks playfully at her as he moves away so she can shut the door, wandering over to the other side of the car. “bossy.”

“someone has to keep you in line,” she smirks, though the effect of it is dampened as the car’s engine turns over three or four times before finally starting.

he should probably let someone know where he’s going. the right thing to do would be to text adam, but as he pulls out his phone, mason finds he just can’t resist the urge to push nate’s buttons.

seeing the detective home safely :-) he writes, smiley-nose and all. don’t wait up

nate’s reply is almost instantaneous. you’re repulsive

he grins to himself as he pockets his phone, staring out the window as the empty streets of wayhaven pass by. the comfortable quiet that fills the car has him feeling bizarrely at peace, again, and though the windows are open his senses aren’t affronted by every random smell and sound they speed by. instead, he finds his focus is on the detective’s steady heartbeat and the hushed, almost imperceptible sound of her breathing, though he’s trying to ignore why that is. he’d really hate to ruin even a moment of this with introspection.

the walk up to her apartment is familiar, though mason can’t help but to take it all in with a critical eye, sharpening his hearing for any potential threats that might be waiting for them.

he’d prefer not to have any interruptions for what he’s planning to do to her.

his gaze snaps back to kira as she steps inside and heads off toward her bedroom, already stripping off her jacket and peeling her shirt up and over her head. mason grins as he pushes the front door shut behind him, flipping the lock. “eager, are we?”

he toes off his boots and follows her. “mmm,” she hums, sounding unimpressed, “i’m going to take a shower.”

mason blinks, his eyes trained on her hips where she’s shimmying her jeans down. the lacy black underwear he’d had bunched under his fingers just an hour before recaptures his attention all over again. “a shower?”

“uh huh,” she confirms, kicking her jeans away when they fall to the floor, “i let some guy fuck me at the carnival in the haunted house and it was honestly kind of gross --”

his laughter cuts her off, and when she sends a grin his way he can’t resist reaching out and shoving her shoulder. “fine. we’ll shower.”

her arms fold under her chest, below her bra. “i don’t recall inviting you.”

mason steps closer, staring her down. from the distance between them -- which isn’t much -- their size difference is pronounced, and he smirks at the way she has to crane her neck to be able to meet his eyes. “so you don’t want me to shower with you?”

her tongue darts out to lick her lips. his eyes follow the movement, settling on the corners of her mouth when they twitch upwards. “i didn’t say that.”

he reaches behind his neck for the collar of his t-shirt and pulls it up and over his head. the way her eyes slide over his newly bare skin and linger along the contours of his muscles makes him feel an undeniable spike of pride. 

plenty of people he’s been with have looked at him like that. her reaction isn’t foreign to him, but the way it makes him feel in return certainly is. it’s unsettling and more than mildly annoying to realize that he cares -- maybe, a little bit -- about what she thinks when she looks at him.

the detective reaches down to unbutton his jeans. mason feels his breath catch as she deliberately lowers the zipper and pushes them down his hips. 

there’s something he’s been wanting to do to her since he first really let himself look her way -- since he started thinking of her as more than just an annoyance. 

not that she wasn’t, still, but she was undeniably more than that, now.

mason grips her thighs and lifts her easily into his arms, grinning at the way kira’s legs immediately fold around his bare waist. he starts shuffling them back toward her bathroom, kicking out of his jeans as they go.

“smooth,” kira smirks, running her hands down his bare chest. she almost sounds impressed.

his hands slide around to grab her ass. “if you liked that, wait ‘til you see what else i can do.” 

she matches the grin on his face and then leans down to kiss him passionately, and he exhales a ragged breath against her lips as his elbow hits the light switch for her bathroom, illuminating the space. without breaking their kiss, he sets her down on the counter, pressing his mouth forcefully against hers.

“so,” he pants against her mouth, pulling away to give his focus to unhooking her bra, “this guy you fucked in the haunted house. was he good looking?”

“well...” they’re close enough that he can feel the way her lips twist into a smile. “it was pretty dark in there.”

mason huffs out a laugh, peeling his body away from hers. kira’s bra falls to the floor, and he pushes a hand through his hair as he looks down at her, getting a better look at her body than he ever has under the bright lights of her bathroom, his eyes lingering first on her bare chest and then on her face.

she’s undeniably gorgeous. but she knows that, judging by the way she’s kicking her legs back and forth against the counter, smiling cheekily at him. he reaches behind himself to turn on her shower, holding his hand under the spray.

“you’d better come check the temperature,” he warns, letting his eyes slowly travel the length of her body again as kira hops off the counter and steps closer, shedding her underwear as she does so. “i like it hot.”

kira wraps her arm around his waist for balance, pressing in along his side. her proximity has his eyes going half-lidded, especially when she rubs deliberately against him as she leans in to hold her own hand under the running shower. 

her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she looks over her shoulder at him. “it’s nothing i can’t handle.”

out of everything she says and does, that’s what makes his cock twitch. 

but then again, he’s been battling the urge to handle her all fucking night. kicking his own boxers off, he crowds her into the shower, plastering his chest along her back and tripping over her feet in his haste to get them both behind the curtain, which she tugs closed with her arm twisted around over his shoulder.

mason sighs as his hips press forward against her bare skin, the warmth of her softening the pinprick each drop of water beats sharply against him. his arms move from around her to press his palms against the wall behind her head, and he cages her body in as steam starts to fill up the bathroom. 

the detective turns in his arms and looks up at him, holding his gaze as her back arches to bring their bodies closer. he hears himself hiss from between his teeth when their skin makes contact, and lets one hand move to push her long hair out of the way, trailing his fingers down her back. 

her red lips part with a breathless exhale. “mason.”

his hips jerk forward, rutting insistently against hers. the pretty gasp of surprise she gives him makes it hard to regret his forcefulness.

his other hand moves slowly down to her leg, where he drags his palm against the smooth skin of her thigh and then lifts, hitching it around his waist. the detective leans into the movement as he positions her, easily pressing in as close to him as she can.

they’d been face-to-face the first time they’d done this, but it’d felt markedly less... intimate, then. maybe the rest of the team was right. maybe he had gotten in too deep.

it’s hard to worry about that now, though, with the way she’s rubbing against him. kira seems intent on drawing him inside of her all on her own, and his grip on her tightens as he recalls the way she’d taken every inch of him earlier that evening, wailing the haunted house’s walls down like she was an actor hired by the carnival. 

mason smirks at her, reaching down to help her along. the way she moans when he first presses his cock in has him gritting his teeth hard enough to crack them.

she’s remarkably tight, given he was just inside her, the way she’s squeezing him making him pant where he’s got their foreheads tipped together, staring into her eyes. she’s no less sexy than any of the other times they’ve done this, but it’s noticeably different, now -- almost reminiscent of that gentle, searching kiss she’d given him in his bedroom at the warehouse, when he was supposed to be recovering after their run-in with the trappers.

he forces his eyes away from hers, tucking his face in the crook of her neck. mason focuses on the water from the shower, beating against his back almost painfully as he drives into her, and not on the way she’s sighing so sweetly into his ear, continually murmuring his name.

“you like that, sweetheart?” his voice is a low growl over the sound of the shower, his grip on her leg tightening. she’s already shaking against him -- another point of pride of his -- and her moans start to reach a new volume when his other hand slips between their bodies to tease between her legs.

“oh, god,” she whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut tight. she’s clinging so tightly to his shoulders that he has to spare a pitying thought to the scratches that are doubtlessly already healing over, just as quickly as she can leave them. it might be kind of nice to keep proof of the way she’s clawing at him, now, so that he can have it with him the next time she ignores him, planning something with nate or arguing with adam, instead.

not that it bothers him, or anything. he just... notices, is all.

he doesn’t even want her to talk to him.

anyway -- that’s one of the things he’s always liked about fucking humans. he’s not exactly a man of repeat performances, but leaving behind marks is sort of his specialty, especially when someone can wear them as well as the detective does.

the little hickey he’d left behind her ear kept taunting him, all week long, anytime she moved just right and her hair failed to cover it.

now, he can’t quite resist latching his lips onto it again, where it’s starting to fade, and reworking the mark anew.

“open your eyes,” he commands into her ear, pulling his head back to look at her. his hand regretfully leaves her thigh to swipe his wet hair out of his face, though she tightens her leg around him and draws him in deeper with a heel at his back, punching a groan out of his chest. 

“mason,” she moans again, her breath hitching into a gasp halfway through. it’s maybe his favorite way anyone’s ever said his name. 

he swivels his hips, fucking into her a little harder. “jesus, you are stunning,” he mutters, his eyes on her face and the droplets of water running down her cheek, over her neck and down to her chest. 

it’s a lot more pleasant now than the last time he saw her soaked through with rain.

her hand lifts as his thumb finds her clit and rubs circles on it, and he looks up from where his lips had been about to descend onto her chest when she tenderly brushes his wet hair out of his eyes. the look in her eyes makes his movements falter for just a moment before he remembers himself and manages a smirk, rubbing her a little faster.

“oh, god,” she gasps again, “i -- i --”

“you what?” he taunts, pressing her back into the shower wall, “tell me.”

he knows she’s going to come. he can almost taste it, hanging heavy in the air between them -- but she doesn’t say so. instead, she rockets off against him with only a choked groan of his name, and that’s somehow better, the way she’s shaking apart in his arms enough to make his eyeteeth tingle meaningfully.

he’d never actually do it, of course -- probably not even if she wanted him to -- but the fantasy of biting her is shamefully what gets him there, and kira sighs sweetly when he comes inside of her, slumping into his arms.

her hazel eyes are unfocused when they land on him, dazed enough to make him smirk. mason lets himself enjoy the smell of her before the shower will doubtlessly wash it away, the ever-present warmth of ginger and lemon mixing with the mark he’d left behind. 

he helps her leg back down to the tile. “can you stand?”

“please,” she mumbles, still working to catch her breath, “your dick’s not that impressive.”

mason laughs as she straightens up. she does seem pretty steady on her feet. he’ll have to work a little harder next time.

“you know i can tell when you’re lying.” he leans back, looking her over. her long, dark hair is plastered to her back, and there’s a few red marks where he’d maybe been a little too demanding with her, sticking out like exclamation points against her otherwise unmarred skin. 

annoyingly, she’s even more gorgeous now than she had been before. 

“whatever.” the detective sighs, eyeing his chest. he has the strange feeling she wants to lean her face there, so he drops his arms from around her, shuffling his feet back.

“here,” he finds himself saying, as he notes the goosebumps breaking out across her arms. she must be cold. with a hand on her wrist, he pulls her around so she’s the one standing under the water.

“thanks.” mason stares as she tilts her head back under the stream, the water raining down on her chest. his cock makes a valiant effort to get hard again as she reaches her hands up and pushes them through her hair. 

then, she straightens, cracking her eyes open to peer suspiciously at him. “what’re you staring at?”

“i feel like you already know the answer to that, detective.” he drags his tongue across his teeth. 

“kira,” she reminds him, leaning around his body to grab her shampoo. she passes him the bottle once she’s taken some, and he watches her rub it into her hair for a moment before doing the same.

“you don’t like your nicknames?” the smell of the shampoo fills his senses all at once, predictably eclipsing all traces of her and the smell of her with him on her. 

“kira would be more than fine,” she says, though he suspects she likes the sweethearts a little more than she lets on.

they wash up quietly, until her matching body wash and conditioner have them both smelling more like oranges than an orange tree. she steps out of the shower first, dripping water onto the tile, and passes him a towel. 

mason tucks his around his waist, fighting back the urge to touch her once she’s covered, too. he usually avoids shit like this, but he finds he really wants to rub his palms over the curve of her body where the towel’s draped under her arms, until he knows what she feels like with damp terrycloth covering her, too. 

he rolls his eyes at himself, instead, flexing in her bathroom mirror. she gives a little laugh when she notices, but otherwise shuffles off toward her bedroom in silence.

he stands awkwardly in the doorway, looking at his scattered clothes. she’d been asleep the last time he’d done this, and now...

the detective isn’t looking at him, but there isn’t any way he can get back into his clothes and out of her apartment without her noticing. not that he’s doing much of anything, then, except watching her slip gracefully into her pajamas and brush out her hair until it falls over her shoulders, already starting to curl while it dries. 

she sits down on the edge of her bed and fixes him with a look. “you know, you could stay here tonight.”

even if he wanted to -- which he doesn’t -- it hardly seems wise. “the others are waiting for me.”

her head tilts to the side. “are they?”

it’s not like they don’t know. he’s pretty sure everyone knows -- even her mom. even her fucking coworkers. even that little idiot at the front desk who’d made a point to dress like him in the hopes of impressing her.

“i know what this is,” he grins suddenly, folding his arms across his bare chest, “you’re hoping for morning sex.”

this is where he’s most comfortable, and sometimes it seems like it’s the same for her, too. sometimes her remarks back are so biting -- so obvious, so impossible to resist -- that it leaves him speechless. 

kira sighs, and he knows instantly that now isn’t one of those times. as she looks away, he feels like he’s somehow disappointed her. “you caught me,” she says, and he can’t quite see her pupils in the low light of her bedroom but he doesn’t need to, anyway, to know that she’s lying. her left shoulder lifts in a half-shrug, slipping the strap of her pajama top down. “i’ll see you tomorrow or something.”

he blinks, looking down at where his jeans are crumpled near his feet, waiting for him to put them on. mason ducks back into the bathroom, first, to grab his boxers, and doesn’t think too much about anything else as he pulls them on.

kira’s staring at her phone while he looks for his shirt and then slips that on, too. she’s not even scrolling -- just holding the device in her hand, her gaze fixed resolutely on the screen.

he’s ignored a lot of little signs since they first met, even tonight -- pushed passing comments from the others out of his mind, tried not to think about the sincerity in her voice or the softness in her eyes or anything, really, other than what they could get up to alone together. but it’s pretty difficult to ignore her body language, now. 

as soon as he’s dressed, mason’s feet bring him to the edge of the bed before he can stop them. “hey.” she doesn’t look up until he clears his throat pointedly.

doing this was a lot less complicated when she’d been asleep. maybe he should’ve waited, again, so he wouldn’t have to see her look at him like that. was that how she’d looked when she woke up the next morning, after he’d left? he hoped not.

maybe he should kiss her goodbye. she never looked at him with anything other than a smile when he kissed her.

just as he makes up his mind and leans down, her hand shoots out, stopping him with a palm pressed gently but still firmly against his chest. he looks down at her hand in surprise. 

she seems to think better of whatever she’d been planning to say. “goodnight, mason,” is what comes out instead, with finality. 

he blinks, then nods at her, stepping away. kira returns his last look in a way that makes him feel a little strange before he turns and heads to the front door.

he takes the scenic route back to the warehouse, slowing his speed so he can chain smoke. it’s been awhile since he’s done that -- she’s always around, now, asking him to put them out. asking him to do something that’s not like him.

he’s really not interested in thinking too much about her, but the walk doesn’t clear his head like he’d hoped it would. unfortunately, the carnival teller’s fortune floats back to him, mixing messily with his already swirling thoughts. mason can’t hold back his growl of frustration; he’s given that stupid hack way too much of his brain space already.

one day you’ll trust her more than you trust yourself.

the expression on kira’s face comes back to him unbidden. he blinks, rubbing at his eyes. 

sure, he thinks sarcastically to himself as he stalks off to his bedroom, the warehouse blessedly quiet around him. the look she’d shot his way when he’d left won’t seem to fade from his mind. when?

[cthulhuliet]

my high hopes (are getting low)

3.9k words [total 13k words] (part one) (part two) (part three) | AO3 Link | warnings: homophobia, use of slurs, dubious morality, completely unnecessary religious references, implied/referenced self-harm

'Cause my High hopes are getting low because these people are so old The way they think about it all If I tried I would never know

Light Yagami's world view is shifted after a conversation with his father concerning L's sexuality. Anger in his veins and unconfessed feelings bubbling to the surface, Light and L enact a plan of revenge against the homophobic views of the task force.

~

Out of the task force headquarters for the first time in months brought him a certain amount of joy, an extreme weight of his chest- or rather weight off his wrist. With his memories back, himself and Misa cleared of any suspicions thanks to the fake rules he constructed in the Death Note, Light had won.

Of course, there was still much work that needed to be done. This roadblock had lasted longer than Light wanted or anticipated, but no matter. To achieve everything the world needed was going to take time and effort- time and effort that he alone could commit to. He needed to be rid of L as well. Foolish, stupid Misa forgot his name, so that was simply another obstacle he would need to pass. But no matter, tonight was for celebration.

The celebration at a bar only miles away from task force headquarters is not exactly where he would have chosen, but Ryuzaki insisted that if the task force were going out into the public to to celebrate they were to not stray far from headquarters. Light idly looked around the lowlights of the bar, shaking his head into his beer. He wouldn’t be surprised if L had every shop within a 5 mile radius littered with cameras and bugs.

“Attention everyone,” Soichiro stood up, hold his glass out to the detectives, “I would like to make a toast: this is to all your hard work, the long hours, the uncertainty of tomorrow, the progress we made, and-” He pointedly looked at Light , “To the clearing of names.” He raised his glass, “To Light!”

“To Light!” The detective’s echoed, Matsuda softly clapping, and Aizawa giving him a sock to the arm.

“How’s it feel to be a free man?” His father asked, eyes shining behind his glasses.

Light chuckled, “Father, this is the best I have felt in a long time,”

“Here, here!” Mogi agreed.

“Fresh air, sun on your face,” Matsuda mused, “Boy, that Ryuzaki really doesn’t get out much, does he?”

“Can you imagine him coming out to a bar like this, or even a restaurant or gym?”

“No wonder he is so skinny,”

“And pale,”

Light shook his head, “Hey now, no need for any of that,” He took a quick sip of his beer, “You guys may know him, but I was chained to Ryuzaki, ok? Talk to me when you get kicked in the face by him,” The table roared with laughter, Light smirked to himself. “Might just get a kick of PTSD when I eventually do get to cuff Kira,”

Soichiro shook his head, smiling, “We are closer than ever, I can feel it. The real Kira is in our grasp, now that we are all cleared,”

Light huffed dryly, “Well, some of us aren’t fully in the clear,”

Soichiro sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Light looked into his father’s eyes: determination but exhaustion were swimming behind his pupils- Light hates L for causing his father so much stress. Even the hardest working, most respectable men need time stress free. God himself created a day of rest for a reason.

“Ryuzaki will come around, I am sure of it,” He idly scratched the stubble on his cheek, eyes on Light but mind elsewhere, “I am not exactly sure what more proof he needs… The young man’s pride is getting in the way of his deductive skills,”

“He did say at one point he did want Light to be Kira…” Matsuda chimed it.

“Precisely,” Soichiro took a long drink, “He will come around, I am sure of it. I mean, look at us now. Even a few weeks ago, and outing such as this was completely out of the realm of possibilities,”

“I am more surprised Ryuzaki himself didn’t come with us just to keep tabs on what we are talking about,”

“Matsuda, you are insane if you believe that he wouldn’t find out some way or another,”

“Ahh, yeah. A small part of me wishes Ryuzaki would come out with us, though. I do have to admit that I am mildly curious as to what he would drink,” Matsuda shrugged.

Soichiro grunted, shaking his head, “I am sure each of us wishes that we knew Ryuzaki just a little bit more. We simply have to make our own interpretations based upon the small bits of information and hints he drops us,”

Light nodded, a small smile on his face, “That man would probably be an even longer investigation than the Kira one,”

The table nodded, but Aizawa drummed his finger on the table, “You guys say that, but I already know everything that I need to know about that little freak,”

Aizawa took a long sip of his whiskey, the detective’s eyes narrow and angry. It had been obvious to most of the task force that he never liked Ryuzaki: Aizawa’s short temper and L’s aloofness often clashed, but there also seemed to be something else bubbling under the surface- and itch that needed some sort of external validation to be scratched.

“What do you mean, Aizawa?” Light probed the detective. If he for some reason and somehow got more information about L…

Aizawa looked around, now holding the full attention of the table in the palm of his hand. He rubbed behind his earlobe, his voice sharp and intense, “I was talking with Wedy and Aiber after the arrest of Higuchi. Just idly chatting. I was curious about their history with Ryuzaki. What kind of criminal would endear themselves to the most prolific detective? When did they even get close enough to be on call for him?” Aizawa idly cracked his knuckles, looking down at the stain wood of the table, recounting the events from that night, “It seems as though those two know Ryuzaki better than we do,”

Light’s skin felt as though it was on fire. He had never had much interest in the detective, but his attention was solely focused on Aizawa. Whatever it was, whatever Aizawa found out from the two con-artists, he simply had to know, his need and curiosity were going to burn him alive if the normally straight-forward cop didn’t speak faster.

“What did you find out,” Soichiro frowned, “Like, his history or name or something,”

Light wanted to scream.

Aizawa shook his head, sipping the brown liquid, “No. Nothing like that, just some taboo information that our good friend Ryuzaki opted not to tell us,”

Matsuda frowned, “Taboo?”

“Yeah,” He scoffed, tapping the glass with the palm of his finger- eyes hard and jaw set. His eyes quickly darted from one side of the nearly empty bar to the other, now staring down his whiskey. “Let’s just say,” He spoke in a low voice, “I am certainly glad Ryuzaki doesn’t go to the gym. I would pity any man who had to share a locker room alone with him.” Aizawa threw the rest of his drink down his throat and loudly set the empty glass on the table, the silence thick and palpable.

No one said anything for a long time. No one moved their drinks or spoke. Light looked down at the table, eyes hard, waiting for someone to break the silence; someone had to release him from this torture, and he couldn’t be the one to speak up.

When Soichiro scoffed, picking up his glass, all eyes turned to him, “Well. I can’t say I am surprised,” He grumbled. The rest of the squad nodded in agreement, all going back to their idle actions.

“I mean, I always had my suspicions,” Matsuda said, “He is a pretty weird guy and something always seemed a bit off when we were alone together. I just chalked it up to Ryuzaki being Ryuzaki but now that I know- like I know ...” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “Uck… I need to go home and have a shower,”

Soichiro then locked eyes with Light, “Light, if that Ryuzaki ever made a pass at you or made you feel-”

“Father, I promise you everything was fine,” Light muttered, responding to his father but his head was elsewhere, “I never even knew, or considered it a possibility, actually,”

Aizawa frowned, tapping the table harshly with his index finger, “With the chain, when you had to shower, or use the restroom, what did you even-”

“There was a hook in the bathroom, so there was at least some semblance of privacy,” Light opted to keep the fact that there were cameras covering every inch of the bathroom to himself.

Soichiro seemed unsatisfied with that answer, “I was never a fan of that chain situation, none of us were, but we all trusted Ryuzaki. Now- now that I know my son was chained for months on end to some pervert…” He steady his rising voice but Soichiro was gripping his glass so hard, Light was worried it would shatter under his hold.

“It is just wrong,” Aizawa chimed in, Mogi nodding along, unenthusiastically, “Morally, completely wrong.”

“Here, here,” Matsuda echoed, cheerlessly. “Those are the kinds of people Kira should take care of,”

Light’s eyes widened, shaking his head, “Matsuda, don’t talk like that,”

Aizawa shook his head, a short emotionless laugh was followed with an omission from the other detective. “This may just be the whiskey talking, but instead of FBI agents and business men, maybe Kira could work on keeping those kinds of people out of society. I don’t need queers around, I have 2 kids,”

Soichiro nodded, “It is a pity. Can’t imagine how Ryuzaki’s parent’s must feel. Maybe they know and that’s why he is the way he is,”

“Pity the pair of them,”

“Yeah,”

Light said nothing. Soichiro continued, “Glad I don’t have to worry about that. Sayu talks about that Hideki Ryuga on too many occasions to count, and that Ms. Amane is more than treating Light here well,”

Eyes hard set on his Father, Light asked his dad a question that had been on the tip of his tongue since Aizawa’s information had been revealed. “Father, what would you do if-”

Cutting him off, Soichiro looked at Light seriously, “If that happened, I wouldn’t need some magical notebook. I’d take my marksman training and deal with it myself,”

Light smiled, chuckling, “Of course, Father,”

Light’s fingernails were gripping the inside of his palm, the force at which was nearing the point of drawing blood. He was doing his best to remain cool and collected, but the more the men talked the more his anger was becoming all consuming: a threat that was rearing its ugly head and threatening to crawl out of his throat with an ear splitting cry of rage.

“I think I need the restroom,” Light stood up stiffly, 4 pairs of concerned eyes on him. He gave them a curt nod, “Gentlemen,” And walked quickly to the other side of the bar.

The restroom was a unisex single stall that Light opened with more forced then neccesarry and locked the door. He stumbled over to the sink, switching it on the coldest setting. Balling up his fists, he slammed them down onto the dirty ceramic, a frustrated cry erupting from him.

“Son of a bitch!” Light choked out. Neat fingernails gripped the sides of the sink, chilling water splashing and threatening to soak the edges of Light’s expensive button up, but he barely noticed that fact, as he was mentally steeling himself to not allow the hot tears he felt bubbling to spill. Crying in any capacity was wasted energy, and even more so, he didn’t want to have to explain the tear tracks on his cheeks to any of his much older colleagues.

“Geez, you look like a mess,” A gravelly voice phased. Light looked in the mirror in front of him and saw Ryuk’s wide eyes staring back at his reflection.

Light scoffed, looking away from the mirror, “Welcome back, where have you been, Ryuk?”

Ryuk floated closer to the sink, casually wiggling his fingers, “I was nagging some cherries from the bartender. Not as good as apples but I’ll take what I can get,”

“Does fruit even taste different to Shinigamis?”

“Oi oi, what is that supposed to mean,” Ryuk frowned.  Light shrugged his shoulders, sighing. Ryuk put a thumb to his chin, “It is clear I missed something. You going to fill me in, Light?”

For the first time since entering the bathroom, Light felt about 7% calmer. He took a deep breath, studying the brown eyes of his reflection. Still rimmed with red, but not nearly as dam breaking as before. He turned around to face the Shinigami, casually leaning against the sink, arms crossed.

“Aizawa just told me some information,”

“Eh?”

“Information about L,”

Ryuk laughed wildly. Flipping himself upside-down, he continued to cackle, “Isn’t that just interesting. What did he say? Is your plan going to be a little easier?”

Light crossed his arms, refusing to look at Ryuk’s animated movements, and instead inspected a cracked tile in the otherwise pristine floor, “No. Aizawa told me that L is gay,”

“Eh?” Ryuk flipped himself upright and stood on the floor normally, curiously looking at the human, “Well, I suppose that is fine… Though I guess that means it isn’t with you. I didn’t realise that you were uh, what’s the human word for it...” Ryuk scratched his hair, and Light quirked up an eyebrow, “Oh. Didn’t know you were homophonic,”

Light frowned, “What?”

“Homophonic. You don’t like gay people,”

Running a hand through his hair Light sighed, “It is homophobic, not homophonic. Homophonic has to do with music,” Light turned back to the water that was still running and rolled up his sleeves, idly washing his hands, “I didn’t think you would get this much stupider after being away from me for so long,”

Ryuk defensively put his hands up, talking to Light’s reflection, “Hey, don’t look at me. You humans are the weird ones, making up gender and sex and all these words we don’t have in the Shinigami realm. It’s confusing sometimes, ok?” Light didn’t respond as he pulled some paper towels from the holder and dried his hands, “Either way, I didn’t know you were homophobic. Hyuk, probably makes you want to kill L more, doesn’t it,”

Light’s eyes flashed red, and in an instant, he kicked the plastic bin across the room in a blind rage of fury, “Of course it doesn’t!” Dried towels littered the ground, Ryuk slapping one away from himself as it floated onto his shoulder, “But apparently if you don’t fit into the perfect straight mold that we have been told, all morals go out the window!” His back hit the wall, and Light sunk down onto the floor, Ryuk still standing in shock, “All of the detectives out there said that they would want to rid the world of anyone who was different. No matter how hard working, or what they do, or how much they are worth to society, if you don’t fit that mold, you are better off dead. They said they L would be better off dead, that-” He paused, picking at a loose string on his pants, tugging on it and idly throwing it away, “My own father said he would kill me,”

Ryuk stood next to Light in stunned silence, only a couple times before had he seen the man lose his temper and each time he was unsure of how to respond to it. He began picking up the towels littered on the ground, “So, Light, are you saying that you’re…”

Chuckling dryly, Light shook his head, “I thought this kind of thing didn’t matter to Shinigamis?”

“No, but it matters to you humans. Besides, this is very interesting,”

Light rested his head against his knees, staring at the crack in the tile again, “I don’t want to label myself, not really. Like you said, it is a dumb human thing.” Biting his thumbnail, Light thought for a moment about what he wanted to say, “I was about 13 when I realised I couldn’t relate to my friends. I thought I was smarter than them for not caring about kissing girls and spin the bottle. I pretty much wrote off relationships altogether. It wasn’t until Misa that I realised what was wrong,”

“Eh? Misa?”

“Yeah, I know,” A rare smile formed on Light’s face. Rare because he was talking about Misa, someone who he regarded as one of the banes of his existence, “She was rambling on one day, and told me that she also likes girls in the way she likes me. Granted, she immediately went on to say she would never leave me, and we were soulmates, but those words kept me up because I never even realised it was an option.

“I did some research and some of the greatest minds on Earth were also queer in some capacity. Alan Turing, Julius Caesar, Ihara Saikaku- all great people who made waves in history. And yet,” Light made fists with his hands, “Some people, some idiots would believe they were better off dead just because of who they choose to lay with.

“I may have a personal bias, but if the Gods never cared about gender and sex, then why would I when passing judgement? You said it yourself, Ryuk: it is merely a human constructed concept. I am far above viewing people as just that. It is simply an aspect of yourself, not who you are. Your actions are far more important. Be a useful, moral member of society and why does it matter who you sleep with?”

Ryuk finished cleaning up the towels and sat on the floor across from Light, “Heh, and the detectives don’t share that same sentiment?”

“Yeah,” Light’s voice dripped with venom, “They told all of us multiple times to not pass judgement off of one action, and yet my father said he would put a gun to my head and if I kissed a boy he would shoot me dead,”

Ryuk tilted his head to the side, “Guess we finally found the greyness in your morality,” He cackled wildly, but Light was not amused.

Light sat up straight, looking Ryuk straight into his eyes, “I don’t need those kinds of people in my world,” He spoke with finality, and tapped open the secret compartment of his watch, the small corner piece of the Death Note blank and ready for him.

“Light, wait,” Ryuk’s eyes widened and he took a couple steps towards him, towering over Light. He frowned, red anger brewing in his pupils, “I am not supposed to help, not really, but please think, ok? For one, this is your father we are talking about, you can’t-”

“Ryuk, he said he would kill me!” Light stood up and shouted, all care for staying calm left him, “He said I would be better off dead, how am I supposed to take that?”

“Alright,” He responded, the almost 7 foot Shinigami felt very small all the sudden, “What about this? You and the task force leave headquarters for the first time in months. You disappear to the bathroom and all the task force is dead except for you. What conclusion is L going to draw from that, hm?”

Light threw his pen across the room, hitting and marking the wall it connected with, “So what should I do, then, huh? Just let them all walk around, making judgements about those who didn’t do anything?” He made fists with his hands, not paying any attention to pain, fury and rage was all Light felt now. Drops of blood trickled down his palm and under his nails- he finally broke the skin. “They don’t deserve any of that, so why did my father say that? Why do they get to decide what is moral? Where is the justice for them!” His breath got more and more ragged, to the point of hyperventilation. Light suddenly felt very, very dizzy.

When he was a young child, after he just learned how to swim, Light would go off the diving board and teeter at the edge of it, testing gravity. Challenging it. He wanted to fly. He thought he could cheat it somehow. If he ran quick enough, if he closed his eyes, if he acted casual as he stepped off the board, but everytime the wind on his face and the unforgiving coldness of the pool water let him know that Light had failed. Getting the Death Note was the closest he felt to defying gravity. Light could step off the board now and simply float; floating high above the gravity that pulled him down, and high above the water that wanted to engulf him.

However, for the first time since he got the Note, Light was no longer floating: Light was drowning. Gravity was forcing him underwater, suffocating him. It was filling up his lungs and choking him. Is this the grim misfortune that Ryuk said to him? Is this how it feels like to be held underwater- thrashing and crying and begging for the element to relent? To release it’s hold and breathe? Light can’t imagine the real thing feeling any other way.

A knock on the door brought Light back to land. He stayed silent as he listened to the voice outside the door, “Light? You doing ok in here? Your dad is worried about you and…”

Matsuda trailed off. Light paused for a moment, and walked himself to the other side of the bathroom, raising his voice, “Yeah, I am ok. Just, uh, the drink I had before the beer was pretty strong, and I didn’t eat beforehand so, uh, y’know,”

“Oh, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Light struggled to keep his voice even.

“Something always seemed a bit off when we were alone together…”

“I am all good, Matsuda,”

“Uck… I need to go home and have a shower…”

“I appreciate your concern,”

Matsuda stayed silent for a minute before responding, “We are about to head out. Do you want us to wait or-”

“Go on ahead,” Light responded immediately, “I’ll get Watari to call me a car or something,”

Matsuda sighed, “As long as you are sure, but just let someone know when you get back. I’ll tell Soichiro you aren’t feeling well,”

Light listened to the detective’s retreating footsteps. He closed the lid on the toilet and put his head in his hands, “I want to kill them,” Ryuk cackled wildly, causing Light to look up, “What? Unless you have something helpful to contribute I-”

Ryuk floated, spinning himself above Light, “You could kill them, that is easy. Killing is like breathing to you, Kira,” He laughed again, “But trust me when I say that there are much more creative, much more fun forms of punishment,”

Light’s interest was piqued, he looked at the Shinigami with curiosity, “What exactly are you thinking?”

Shrugging, he began to phase through the wall, “I am not going to tell you what to do, that is all up to you, Light. However-” Ryuk’s head was all that was remaining in the room, a smile even more wicked than his usual one plastered on his face, “-maybe you should talk to your pal, L, about what you learned today,”

Cackling, Ryuk left the room, but Light alone with his thoughts. It didn’t even take 3 minutes for Light to come up with a plan.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, everchanginginks

For @everchanginginks. I hope you enjoy this gift!

Read On AO3

*****

Just down the hall from the quiet studying of history students in Room 17-B lies classroom 17-A which, contrasting its quieter neighbor, is filled with sugar-fueled enthusiasm as adolescent students gleefully tear into their candy atom diagrams. Only after getting the go ahead from their awesome chemistry teacher wearing a colorful periodic table tie over a blue dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, of course.

Said awesome teacher places the end of a blue raspberry sour punch straw in the corner of his mouth and chews with an unabashed grin. As he’s halfway through the straw the bell rings and he breaks into his parting spiel for his students, the straw sticking from the corner of his mouth like a cowboy.

“Okay class, please make sure to turn your worksheets into the tray on your way out and please take your candy diagrams with you. You’re not gonna break my heart if you don’t eat them, I just don’t want next period to deal with this period’s mess. Tonight’s homework is on the board and on the syllabus, and don’t forget to submit your vote for Teacher of the Year during lunch if you have not already. Have a good rest of your day everyone, and as always come to me with any questions...and that means any ."

Scattered responses of “Okay” and “Thanks Mr. Stilinski” and “Bye” fill the room as the students start to file out the classroom.

“You’re about as subtle as a brick to the teeth.” Says a mildly amused female voice from over his shoulder.

Stiles finishes the candy and turns around to look exasperatedly at the strawberry blonde speaker sitting behind his desk, "And you’re underestimating how important this is. My reclaiming of the throne is in danger!"

"Uh huh..." MIT grad and certified genius Lydia Martin nods in mock understanding as she sips from her floral patterned ceramic travel coffee cup.

"Thanks again for agreeing to come in and lecture for my AP Chem students on such short notice by the way.” Stiles scratches at the tousled mess on his head and offers the open package of sour punch straws from his desk, “You are a literal God send."

She grimaces and waves the proffered sugary confection away, "For someone in the sciences, your improper use of the word 'literal' is rather concerning. Perhaps your throne is in more danger than previously thought."

“Don’t say that, you’re gonna jinx it!” He reaches over and raps his knuckles against his wooden desk three times while speaking a mile a minute, “I need to win, I can’t have mister ‘look at me bringing my history and polisci students on the coolest field trips in the history of this school because I can somehow pull strings to make these trips a reality despite there being like no funding--seriously how does he do it--and my students adore me even though I constantly look like I probably lure people into the woods with my beautiful eyes and murder them in my free time’ beat me at my own game, again !”

He huffs at the end of his tirade and looks to Lydia for understanding, but she avoids his gaze and poorly suppresses snickers under her breath.

“C’mon it’s not that funny. I know he can ‘smolder’ his way into the heart of even the most introverted student,” Stiles gesticulates with each emphasis, “but I have charm , I’m approachable , I understand these students. I love my job and I do everything in my ability to give these students every opportunity they deserve . If that’s not ‘Teacher of the Year’ material, then I don’t know what is.”

Stiles stops, taps his chin thoughtfully and sighs, “Though I totally understand that the title is purely for bragging rights, and it ultimately comes down to just continuing to be the best teacher I can be. Derek is a great teacher that also deserves the title and I can respect that, but gosh darn does he get my competitive side riled up.”

“Uh huh…” Lydia hums and taps her fingers against her cup as she pointedly looks past Stiles, “Mr. Stilinski, I do believe there’s someone that needs your help?”

“Oh!” Stiles quickly straightens himself and his tie, and turns around with a wide grin, “What can I do for--YOU!” Stiles quickly twists his expression into a frown and throws a finger up accusingly after registering who was darkening his doorway.

Standing in the doorway with a glare that could send a lesser man running for the hills is the previously mentioned competitor and last year’s winner for ‘Teacher of the Year’, mister ‘coolest history teacher’ Derek Hale in all his annoyingly gorgeous, stubbly, glory. He side-eyes Stiles’ organized chaos in the chemistry lab from behind thick framed hipster looking glasses and grimaces, “Am I interrupting something?”

Stiles grits his teeth, he can practically feel the judgement over his classroom’s state radiating off of the (not even tenured!) history teacher and no amount of soft looking cable knit sweaters could lessen that blow. “As a matter of fact--”

“No, you’re not interrupting anything at all Derek.” Lydia places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder as she walks past him, “I was just about to go say hi to Kira.”

Derek moves aside to let Lydia pass, she turns to smile at Stiles from the doorway, “I’ll come back by 6th period for your second AP Chem class. I think I’ll also grab some lunch from Whole Foods.”

“Uh...Bye?” Stiles weakly waves at Lydia’s parting back. He refocuses his attention on the offending history teacher and crosses his arms across his chest petulantly, “Alrighty, what d’ya need Mr. Hale?”

With a roll of his eyes, Derek holds up a handful of papers, steps forward, and emphatically places them in Stiles' inbox, “Your mail. I know your TA usually grabs it for you, but he’s out sick today. And I was already in the mailroom.”

“Whoa, wait wait, how do you know that my TA is out sick today, have you been stalking my classes? Are you trying to find a way to one up me? Steal some of my stellar teaching techniques because you know that you’ll lose otherwise?” Stiles narrows his eyes as his lowers voice into a conspiratorial tone while  leaning forward to scrutinize Derek’s expression, “What’s your game here Mr. Hale ?”

Derek hazel eyes widen incredulously as he scoffs, “I don't need to stalk your classes, Liam's one of my students too. And please remind me, what did I do to make you so hostile again?”

“Playing dumb isn’t cute. You know full well what you did.” Stiles pokes at Derek’s chest and--oh that’s a soft sweater--puffs his own out, “But no matter what, I’m going to take what’s rightfully mine .”

His competitor’s face reddens in anger and Stiles feels a thrum of excitement at his ability to break Derek’s usual expression of ‘sourpuss lumberjack murderer’. A sly grin works its way across Stiles’ face as he shrugs coyly, “What can I say, I’m a man who knows what he wants.”

Stiles’ wrist is suddenly grabbed by a warm, slightly calloused palm--there may be something to that murderer in the woods theory--and wrenched away from the soft sweater. “And what would that be, Stiles?” Derek growls--who the hell growls --while leaning in way too close for comfort.

“What would that be? Um...I want to win? Obviously?” Stiles splutters as his face reddens, offended that Derek would suggest that there would be anything else . “I’m gonna own you, Derek. I’m gonna own you so hard, you won’t know what hit you.”

“How about you take me to dinner first, before you ‘own’ me?” Derek says matter-of-factly.

“Uh no, how about you take me to dinner to celebrate my overwhelming victory over your grumpy ass? Doesn’t that make a little more sense than going to dinner before either of us win?” Stiles rolls his eyes, laughing at Derek’s lack of logic. But his laughter sputters out and he stills once his brain processes what just happened. “Wait… wait wait… was that some sort of sad attempt at asking me out in the most backwards, reverse engineered manner possible?”

Stiles looks Derek in the eyes, who nods patiently, as if Stiles was one of their students that needs tutoring.

“Oh my God. Oh my GOD !” Stiles backs away and into his desk, voice rising in panic, “What even? What’s happening here? Are you trying to throw me off my game? Cause that’s a dirty tactic, even for you. Because there’s no way someone like you would legitimately ask out someone like me . That just doesn’t make sense. You’re like a sexy lumberjack murderer historian, and I’m like a young Bill Nye. I'm in the sciences , and you're in the humanities .  And you don’t even like me. You haven’t liked me since your first day!”

“Hold on.” Derek holds his palms up defensively, “What are you talking about? You were the one glaring at me like there was no tomorrow.”

Stiles inspects Derek’s expression for any sign of deception, seeing none he sighs. “Fine, I guess it was just so unimportant to mister bigshot Hale to remember measly Mr. Stilinski. Do you remember moving into your classroom?”

He nods, urging Stiles to continue.

“So I didn’t know that the new teacher was moving in that day , so when I saw a big package outside of your soon to be classroom, I assumed that it was my delivery of graduated cylinders that was dropped off to the wrong room since it was early in the morning and people make mistakes sometimes, y’know?” Stiles gives Derek no opportunity to say anything and continues at full speed. “I went over and got ready to take the package, only to have you open the door and give me the scariest look in my entire life . Do you remember what you said to me, Derek?”

“You said,” Stiles changes his voice to imitate Derek’s, “‘That is my private property. If you value your time at this school, you will leave it alone. If I see this behavior again I will bring it up with Principal Yukimura’. So, yeah! Something about that kinda exchange can make a guy think you hate them!”

Derek groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Oh my God...You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Oh, so you do remember? Or did you conveniently forget threatening me?” Stiles grabs another sour punch straw and chews it angrily, “Because I sure as hell didn’t!”

“Stiles…” Derek laughs breathily, “I thought you were a student . I wasn’t wearing my glasses and it was dark . Oh my god . I thought the first time we met was in the teachers' lounge, and by that point I already unknowingly made a terrible first impression on you. No wonder you looked at me with such hatred. Oh my goodness.”

“...oh.”

“Yeah, oh…”

Stiles chews the straw thoughtfully and rocks on the balls of his feet. “So… about that backwards dinner invitation…”

“Yeah?” Derek perks up slightly, looking almost adorable , though Stiles would never say that outloud.

“How about whoever wins ‘Teacher of the Year’ gets treated to dinner, hm?” Stiles holds out a hand for a handshake.

With a goofy grin revealing adorable (there’s that word again!) bunny teeth that brighten up Derek’s entire face, much better than the usual murderous look, he enthusiastically takes Stiles hand and shakes it.

“Deal.”

Epilogue

“I still can’t believe it!”

“I know.” Derek hums as he reaches over to refill Stiles’ glass.

“Honestly, who saw this coming?”

“Certainly not me,” Derek swirls some pasta around his fork and fondly watches Stiles throw back the wine as if it was jungle juice rather than a nice glass of Chardonnay.

Stiles’ honey-brown eyes glimmer with the same kind of mischievous enthusiasm that Derek remembered seeing for the first time at the first assembly of the school year. He gave some sort of spiel about the importance of working together and not being afraid to ask for help, which ended with a demonstration of elephant toothpaste. Derek is embarrassed to say how much he grew to admire the gawky chemistry teacher after that assembly.

“I absolutely kicked your ass dude.” Stiles leans across the table to grab the dessert menu. “Since it’s your treat, I think I’ll indulge in some dessert.” He worries his bottom lip, which makes Derek have to cough and turn his attention away.

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek weakly responds.

“Ooh, this one is topped with bourbon vanilla bean chantilly cream, which is basically bougie whipped cream. How do you feel about bread pudding by the way?” Stiles looks up from the menu through his eyelashes--and there is no way he doesn’t know how he looks--and flutters them exaggeratedly. “Or are you too sour over losing to wittle ol’ me?”

Derek snorts and reaches over to clasp Stiles’ free hand, “On the contrary, I’d be happy to lose to you again.”

Stiles returns the gesture and leans forward, eyes glimmering, his face mere inches away from Derek’s, “Promise?”

Derek is suddenly very glad that they are sitting because he can feel himself go weak in the knees. He nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, I promise.” And leans forward to close the gap.

Their first kiss tastes like garlic bread, which is a little unconventional, but Derek wouldn’t have it any other way.