#I may never beat the ladies man allegations i’m telling you

[kozumesphone]

I would be 10x cooler if I was a guy btw

[katsucutie]

i hate your guts (m)

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader genre: smut, humor warnings: smut, swearing (you know the good stuff) overview: class 1-a has this belief that you and katsuki hate each other, though one incident has their minds changed word count: 4.2k author’s note: this was written to fight my writer’s block and i happened to find a psycho-analysis of katsuki which helped somewhat and its quite interesting. anyways...the song choice while writing this was house of cards, also this was written in three days and i tried using any relevant medical terms i’ve learned so far in uni. hope you enjoy!! masterlist | ko-fi

Walking through the azure-rimmed gate you knew the day would be the same. Homeroom for ten minutes then classes back to back with a minor minute break in between, next an oh-so-needed fifty-minute lunch, and finally two classes to end the day. Not that you could complain, heroes in training must earn some type of education.

Though school wasn’t the worst thing invented, you can definitely say occasions in English class were not lackluster with Present Mic as the teacher. Or in math, when Midoriya yells out an inaccurate answer only to be corrected by Yaoyorozu. It's the little moments that bring laughter, or maybe it’s watching someone embarrass themselves in front of a class that's joyful.

And you could never forget the times where Jirou teased Kaminari for short-circuiting.

While all those moments are fun and dandy, 1-A can also be quite the chatterboxes and gossipy, especially when it comes to your feelings towards Bakugou. Believing that your relationship consists of mutual hatred, class 1-A constantly manages to tease both you and the blonde-headed male. Even All-Might manages to separate the two of you during training.

Although you never said anything against the rumors, it's quite humorous to see a school be so wrong in their thoughts. Is it not obvious that the glares the two of you send are not out of anger but endearment? Clearly not to Todoroki who claimed that Midoriya was All-Might’s secret love child, but that's beside the point. Additionally, you’ve yet to hear an accurate hypothesis as to why you and Bakugou would hate each other. Many of the theories revolve around Bakugou’s ‘anger problems’ but honestly, who doesn’t get mad?

Nonetheless, the rumors surrounding your alleged detestation toward the blonde sparked a little prank between you two. Pretending to hate each other until people catch on that you’re dating.

And the joke has been going on for quite a while, four months to be exact. Four months of pretending to hate in front of crowds, yet loving behind closed doors. Four months of experiencing the rush of adrenaline when you sneak around to his dorm room in the late hours of the night. Four months of leaving your friend groups to hang out during lunch.  

Four months of waking up early to walk to class with Bakugou. And don’t forget about four months of the blonde-headed male constantly breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Oi Y/n, break out of that daze and let’s go, we have thirty-minutes before class and I’d like to spend that time not pretending to hate you” Bakugou calls while molding his fingers into yours.

“Oh please, I’m not pretending you know I hate your guts” You smile, leaning into the broad male walking towards homeroom. “Do you think today will be the same?”

“Yes, those idiots could watch us kiss and still think we hate each other, though I can’t complain, their oblivion is better than if they were to pester us about our relationship” he snarks.

Mindlessly nodding in agreement, you and Bakugou wander through the purple-stained floors of U.A., passing by random classrooms, and peering out the glass windows that overlook the campus.

After twenty-five minutes of strolling through the halls, Bakugou and you turn down the corridor leading to class 1-A, while unlocking hands and prepping for your fake and falsely-interpreted loathing glares.

“Today marks day ninety-six of the class believing we hate each other” you whisper.

“They’re hopeless….”

“But if at any point, you want to stop pretending let me know… I wouldn’t mind, jokes are funny but you’re my top priority”

“Is Bakugou Katsuki getting soft on me?”

“No.. shut up-”

“And they're back at it again Ladies and Gentlemen… the feud between Y/n and Bakugou seems everlasting” Kaminari calls sliding open the tall door leading to class 1-A. Way to ruin a cute moment.

“Honestly the two would probably be best friends if they didn’t hate each other, they both like the same things” Oh they wouldn’t believe the interests you two share.

“Yeah, but their personalities are so different, they’re just not meant to be and that’s fine” What a shock your relationship would be then.

“I’m so glad that you’re interested in my ‘relationship’ with Lord Explosion Murder… but I have more important matters to attend to such as earning my education so that I can be a top pro-hero” you remark sliding into your chair. Your comments are never intended to insult your boyfriend, but teasing his choice of a hero name couldn’t hurt anyone.

Waiting for the remaining two minutes for class to start, you check your phone and see a message notification from a familiar contact.

Babe 💗: storage room during lunch?

Quicker than your mind made a decision, your fingers don’t hesitate to press the send button.

You: i’ll bring the key        

----------

Bakugou was a master of three things. Okay maybe more than three, but three traits excel. His talent, his mind, and his ability to use his fingers.

Bakugou’s talent is tremendous and has been able to advance his goals of becoming a pro-hero. He acknowledges that he was born with such an extraordinary quirk, and has a flair for using it. Notwithstanding the male’s breakdown and internal belief that he is inferior to his pre-quirkless childhood friend, Bakugou unceasingly exerts himself to be more than a student with talent.

His mind is magnificent and allowed Bakugou to comprehend multiple topics of interest. Placing third in the class’ midterm exam, it’s evident that he shines in academic settings. And though few peers in 1-A state that Bakugou fails in the social aspect, you claim the opposite. In their eyes Bakugou is brash, however, after spending time with the boy, you have viewed him as self-reflecting, with social skills that others cannot see.  

While brains and talent may all be magnificent qualities of the blonde, nothing beats Bakugou’s ability to use his fingers. Combined with both his talent and his mind, Bakugou has the ability to make both inanimate and living things explode. And that isn’t related to his quirk.

“You’re imagining events that haven’t occurred yet. Am I truly that talented?”

Flushed and blinking in a shocked manner towards the male in front of you, you ask him if his quirk was mind-reading.

“Hmmm… No, but after seeing you so embarrassed I’d love to have such a quirk so that I’d be able to view the thoughts inside that mind of yours, but I was gifted with explosions... You, on the other hand, were blessed with the ability to swap items on your command. A quirk so useful, especially in times like these when I don’t have a key to the storage room”

“Oh please, just admit that you use me to gain entrance into forbidden rooms” You tease, giving Bakugou the janitor’s key to unlock the storage room.

The male chuckles unlocking the door to the storage closet, “Maybe a bit, though you reap the benefits of getting it” Change of thought, maybe he is brash.

Shutting the door behind you two, you finally express your raw emotions towards your boyfriend, engulfing him in a hug.

“I missed you”

“You came over my dorm last night” What an ass, couldn’t he just accept your affection?

“Yeah, but you go to sleep at like eight-thirty, which means I have to leave you dorm before then, and then I’m stuck in my dorm with nobody to talk to until I go to sleep at midnight, that’s about three and a half hours being alone”

“You’re so clingy… it's cute”

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel less lonely since I go to sleep at like eight-thirty and leave you alone’”

Bashfully looking down at the floor rather than your boyfriend, you mumble your request.

Releasing the hug, Bakugou smirks, poking fun at your diffidence, “With that ask, I don't think you can be shy… Are you sure that's what you truly want?”

Nodding your head you look up to the red-eyed male, taking in his dilated pupils. It's always been him that you’ve desired.

Accepting your form of consent, Bakugou kisses you, enveloping your figure while you sneak your hands around his neck to deepen the embrace. And although the two of you are in a storage closet skipping out on lunch, the feeling of epinephrine dispersing within your bloodstream, inducing fast heart rates, is blissful. A salacious rendezvous with the man you’ve come to love could never hurt anyone… as long as they didn't find out.  

And if one were to catch you two, would they truly stop two aroused students halfway from committing adultery? Would a teacher not be embarrassed if he/she watched as Bakugou hurriedly zips down your green skirt in order to slide his fingers inside of your warmth? Or would someone scamper along hearing the lewd mewls arising from your throat?

“You’re so loud Princess, we have to keep it down or else someone will hear us, okay?”

Yet the person to blame for such noises was Bakugou himself. One could imagine the boy having rough, unmoisturized hands from his explosive quirk, but his inheritance of glycerin allows him to easily travel in and out of you.

“You’re close aren’t you? I can tell. Your walls are contracting at a faster rate and tightening each time I pump my fingers into you. It's really hot too, especially knowing that the world believes you hate my guts when behind the scenes, I rearrange yours”.  

Words cannot describe the pleasure Bakugou exposes you to. A thumb pressed against your clitoris, his middle and ring finger dug past your labia, and you’re unraveling beneath him. He has you under his full control. And how Bakugou feels will determine your release. An untroubled Bakugou can earn you multiple chances of release, whereas the current Bakugou you’re experiencing will rip your attempt at euphoria, despite you being almost there.  

“Katsuki please, I was right there… I’m so close you even said it yourself” You plead, wanting to reach a climax.

“I don’t know… strenuous activities make me tired and I wouldn’t want to upset you with the hour I may fall asleep” Bakugou smirks while tasting his digits, “You taste like caramelized sugar, I wonder where that came about?”

“Suki please, don’t leave me like this”

“It’ll only be for a little while babe, but lunch is almost over, we have to go back to class. I’ll help you out at my dorm alright?”

What more could you do but nod, put back on your skirt, and pretend to hate Bakugou once more in public?

----------

The walk back to class was internally embarrassing. Arousal saturated your underwear, heat filling up between your legs and left you with a foggy mind. You couldn’t imagine pretending to hate Bakugou now when all you could think about was Bakugou hovering above you in his dorm room, aggressively ramming into your hole as you pleaded for mercy. But you’re in school containing students who are not Bakugou to distract you from your misery.

“Y/n pay attention to me, and why do you smell like caramel?” Well shit, is the cat out of the bag?

Looking up at the voice calling, you smile faintly in means of apologizing and mutter an incoherent response to Mina’s question.

“Sorry, and thanks I guess... It might be from the sweets I had during lunch”

“I see, well since you like sugary foods we should go to the bakery today after school, I’m sure the others would like to come too” The pinky bounces brightly.

“I can’t today, sorry! I’m super behind on work and barely understand what's going on in class, let’s go this weekend when I’m free?” What a Lie.

Fortunately, the promise of a raincheck is enough for Mina to back off from the situation and accept your rejection. Today would have been a perfect day to go out with friends, yet the blonde-headed boyfriend of yours decided to be unfair, leaving you to crave his affection. Though, the school day would be over soon enough with only two periods following lunch. And only then would you be able to gain some type of relief.

As if that ideology would be so simple.

Bakugou Katsuki is a man full of pride --rightfully achieved, of course, meaning he knew how and when to push your buttons. Right now being one of those times.

Despite wanting to pay attention in your world language class, Bakugou made it very difficult to do so. Especially knowing that he is the cause of your phone silently vibrating every three minutes in your pocket. He doesn't want you to forget he is the cause of your erotic thoughts. Rather, he’ll keep reminding you that he is controlling your excitement.

However, from the glance across the room, Bakugou didn’t look like the lead in this relationship. His eyes were majorly dilated, with his red iris visually smaller in circumference. Additionally, a prominent cherry hue spread across his cheeks, that one may call flustered from afar. Although, only the two of you understood each other’s physical response towards seduction.

Babe 💗: you look dazed

Babe 💗 : I don’t think that’s the best for someone who wants to become a hero, don't you think?

Babe 💗: this class is so important

Babe 💗: …

Babe 💗 : don’t look at me

Babe 💗: i'm not the teacher

Babe 💗: your so cute trying to ignore these texts

Oh how badly you wanted school to be over

-------------

As the clock hit 2:45 PM, you watch everyone around you hurrying to leave the school and have freedom. And once five minutes go past, 1-A is a semi-empty classroom with two students remaining. Two hormonal, amorous, epinephrine-surged students patiently waiting for their peers to leave the school grounds, so that they can walk to the dorms together in peace.  

Whilst hand-holding may be a shock to onlookers, if they had the capability to read your mind, myocardial infarction would sure to follow. Outstandingly too, if they did not foreshadow the events of you walking within the fourth floor of heights alliance and entering the second room from your left.

“Your room is so homey” You comment. Despite visiting the blonde’s dorm room on multiple occasions, the comforting aura never ceases to relax you.

“I would hope so, I don’t want to be reminded that we’ve been moved from our homes to our school campus in fear of malicious attacks against students”  

“Thanks for that… truly an amazing choice of words” You sarcastically remark. Not everyone needs a reminder of the traumatic incidents students of U.A. have been through, especially when it's clear that students of 1-A (and others) have not received enough therapeutic aid to cope with the events suffered.

One would think that Bakugou of all students would be most affected by trauma, starting from falling victim to the Sludge Villain incident, to being kidnapped by the infamous League of Villains, though he shows the opposite effects. While you cannot see inside the mind of Bakugou and tell if he is extremely traumatized by the incidents and is repressing his memories as a form of coping, you can see what he is physically doing. And at this current moment, you cannot see someone disturbed by his past, but impassioned with the ideas of what is to come.

Tossing your backpack to a discarded corner of Bakugou’s dorm, you throw yourself onto his bed, relishing in the comfort of his bedsheets. You’ve always loved his bed, your favorite moments with him have occurred there. Random naps while cuddling on Saturday afternoon, binge-watching cult-classics after a big exam, or simply having Bakugou’s powerfully built arms wrapped around you like they are now is unforgettable.

“I don’t understand how you’re so built? We go to the same school, attend the same classes and both do athletic training. I mean I’m not complaining because you definitely look good, but it's interesting how my figure compares to yours”

“That's like me asking why you’re so attractive, it's just luck within life, plus I like your figure, it blends perfectly with mine”. A man with such words can only follow with actions that prove it, and the blonde was sure to do so.

Except for when his phone goes off multiple times.

“I think you should check your texts, it may be important”

Halfway sliding off of your body, Bakugou pulls his phone out of his pockets to read his text messages. “It's nothing important, Kirishima just wanted me to join him and the others to go to some bakery since you didn't want to go”

“Oh okay-” Again you were cut off by the sound of his phone going off, however this time, the alert was a long-lasting ring, signaling that Bakugou was receiving a call.

“He’s so persistent, why would I want to go to a bakery when the best dessert is in front of me”

Lightly throwing his phone on the floor of his dorm, Bakugou discards any form of human interaction outside of the bed, focusing his attention on the one he loves.

“You know I really fucking love and care for you?” You do. You fully understand his love for you, from the way his iris shrinks to the rosy pigments formulating on his cheeks when looking at you. And you’ve never once questioned his devoutness towards expressing his adoration for you.

In moments like these, where Bakugou gently strips clothing from your body admiring every crevice, you know the two of you are in love. The boy may come off as an entitled brat, but when push comes to shove, he will bend over backwards trying to make you feel happy.

“You’re so mushy when you're in the feels”

“Oh forgive me for wanting to praise my girlfriend”

“I’m joking, but it is nice to know the feeling is reciprocated”

His silence you took as acknowledgment. ‘I love you too’ was a phrase you didn’t say often, it sounds too forced. Being obligated to say a phrase in return is meaningless when both parties understand each other’s feelings. And it's even more worthless when the actions committed speak louder than words. Bakugou does not need to hear you say ‘I love you’ constantly when he knows you dragging the zipper down of his pants and springing free his cock from the restraints of his underwear means the same thing.

And when you free yourself from the fondling of your boyfriend to meet your lips with the tip of his enraged dick, Bakugou has fallen prey to submission. Having yet to insert the body part into your mouth, you take notice of the male in front of you. Cheeks flushes, head lolled back, visible veins peeking from his sand-colored skin, and light pants as a result of excitement. Hot.  

One kiss to his head and you feel a little twitch. He wouldn’t last long. Understanding that thought you decide to mess with the male, putting half of his length within your mouth and pumping the other half. It was a shame he toyed with you earlier, now he’d face the repercussions. Light squelches filled the quiet air, and Bakugou’s groans got increasingly vocal overtime. The combination forming a sexual melody awaiting to be abruptly paused.

Releasing your lips from the now wet surface of the blonde’s dick, you hear the annoyed groan of the male. “Why’d you stop?”

“I’m sorry were you close?”

“Obviously, but that doesn’t answer my question”

“It’s just that strenuous activities make me tired Suki, and I wouldn’t to make you upset if I accidentally fell asleep”

Tch. The little sound of irritation fell from Bakugou’s mouth, only signaled one thing, rough sex.

“How I’ve come to date such a slutty brat is beyond me. Getting back at me isn’t going to help you in this situation. All you’ll receive is a punishment, though knowing you, you’ll probably enjoy it”  

Although enticed by the proposition, you failed to speak out after being muffled by your boyfriend. Your own skirt which the male had managed to take off earlier now laid scrunched up in your mouth. In addition to that, your arms were now constricted by a gold-rimmed belt.

And while whining in complaint about the new restrictions placed on you, Bakugou alters your kneeling position into one laying beneath him. The primal glare he sends you would signal fear to others, however, you know that the fun is only about to begin.  

Widening your legs apart Bakugou spares no time plunging two fingers into you, stretching the pair apart. Despite being unable to speak, your moans are heard loud enough by your boyfriend to increase his speed. Every sound encouraging the male to continue to berate your walls.

Thinking that the punishment you’ll receive is overstimulation by being one step away from ecstasy, you’re disturbed by the sudden absence of feeling in your core.

“I didn’t say you could come”

Twice today he’d done that. One denial was not enough for him, and that’s when you identified your mistake. Bakugou had the power to reject your advances to climax however many times he’d like. Maybe being a brat today wasn’t the best idea.  

Granted that Bakugou could undeniably be the most ruthless person when it comes to sex, today marked the first time he’d ever advanced into you without warning. The thrusts he implemented assaulting your hole. Even so, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“My god Y/n, you’re so tight, so perfectly made to take my dick”

“You make it so easy for me to unravel within the warmth of your pussy”

“Fuck I’m so close baby, I’m sure you are too”

He wasn’t wrong. The magnitude of the thrusts presented plus the physical restraints and multiple orgasm denials has sped up your ability to reach a climax. You were a mess underneath the man, hoping that soon he would grant you the gift of release. And by the looks of it, Bakugou would provide you with it soon. His cock inconsistently twitching in your warmth, notifying both you and him that he would come soon.

So when the removal of your gag began, you were not surprised. He was close and needed the extra aid of your uncovered moans to aid him to let go. Bare lewd noises ricocheted from the walls of Bakugou’s dorm, and you became thankful that Kirishima went to a bakery rather than located next door. Though had he been, he would have been overhearing an occasion so pornographic, one would think you’re in the business.

They wouldn’t be fully wrong either. Whilst uploading an adult video while training to be pro-heroes sounds absurd, Bakugou has no problem taping to two of you in the act. It may be the idea of possibly getting the video leaked or a similar exhibitionist-like kink, but the blonde constantly acts to videotape during sex.

“This would be perfect on video. The noises you make before you come are so fucking hot I’d replay them until the end of time”

Yet Bakugou is gravely mistaken. Yes, the noises you exhale are angelic, but compared to the rugged groan he calls while releasing his load in you is divine, and never fails in making you follow suit. So when you recognize that tone in addition to the feeling of warmth coating the inside of your walls, you have no choice but to mirror his actions.

“You’re so perfect” He states, slipping himself from your cunt and delivering pecks to your lips while he unbuckles his belt from your wrists. Post-sex always has Bakugou sappy, but how could you complain.  

Wrapping your freed arms around his neck, you pull the male closer to your embrace while nuzzling your nose into his neck. You felt the rapid pace of his heartbeat begin to slow down.

“Are you guys done, because I still haven’t received a response from Bakugou about if he wanted to go to the bakery or not?” What the fuck.

“Did you not press decline when answering Kirishima’s phone?”

“I thought I did…”

“Is that a no or?”

“Of course it's a fucking no, and don’t tell anyone else what you heard. Why were you even listen-” He hung up.

“You think we can go another day pretending to hate each other?”

“Nope… he definitely told the entire class”

“That's a shame, it was fun having them think I hate your guts”

“Awe how tragic… now get up so we can clean you off, heroes in training don't get UTIs”

How sweet.

----------

The trek to school the next day seemed no different than the past. You woke up early to walk to class with Bakugou and strolled the corridors. Only this time while sauntering into homeroom, nobody greeted the couple at the door, rather class 1-A smiled awkwardly as you held hands walking to your seats. Although you wouldn’t have known the reason for the tension in the classroom had Kaminari not jokingly mumble to Sero that he would’ve never expected the blonde to be an exhibitionist.

“Hm, if I recall correctly, I said not to tell anyone”

“I’m sorry my phone was on speaker when I called you” Great.

[pjsblogs-dc]

I hate this

Damian Wayne X Reader

Summary

Damian hates art show, but love you.

Warning

Death by embarrassment or fluff

Hard to say

~~~ Damian always hated art shows and charity parties that when with them. He would do everything in his power to skip or leave the party early. He hated the people, the clothes, and the popups attuite that came with the art shows but then he met you.

You were a young and naïve artist that just moved to Gotham, and just started working at an art center. He bumped into you as he was trying to sneak out, but quickly forget about it when he met your eyes and you quickly stumped out an apology. 

You had the most beautiful eyes and an amazing smile.

The two of you just kept talking for the rest of the night about anything and everything. But the event was soon ending and for once Damian was disappointed that he had to leave.

“When will I see you again?” He asked as the two of you walked towards the parking lot. He didn’t want to stop talking to you, so he lied saying his car was in the parking lot just like you.

“Well,” you said pausing to think “the next art show is in a few weeks. I can text you the details.”

“Sounds great!” he said with a smile.

As you drove away he couldn’t believe that for once in his life he was excited to go the some stupid charity party. He couldn’t stop smiling even after he got into the limo that Alfred was driving.

“Your a little late, sir“ the butler said with a cocked eyebrow.

The younger Wayne was about to say something when he saw the time. He told Alfred he was going to sneak out at 11 pm, but it was 2 am. Not only was he three hours late but he also missed his patrol shift.

“I got a little tied up.“ Damian said defensibly.

“That is want Master Dick said all the time when hung out with members of the opposite sex at charity events.“ Alfred said as he drove away from the art show.

Damian wanted to say something back but thought better of it. He knew he was going to get an earful from the team when he got back home and didn’t want it to start now. Pulling out his phone to see if you had texted him information of the next show, he also looked at the roster of events the boys had to go to.

Long ago to save a head ache, Bruce came up with an assignment system for who has to go to what events, it was to keep the peace in the house and work around patrols schedules, but truth be told it was a tool that the boys where threatened with if they didn’t get along. 

No one in the Wayne house like going to Charity events for the same reasons Damian didn’t like going but that was going to change.

~~~

No one at the Wayne house really noticed at first, that Damian was trying to get more charity events. Or that the shows were most with or hosted by Peterson Art Charity. None of them wanted to go so they were happy to listen to his poor excuse and give him the event. It wasn’t until Bruce called them all in did they see what was going on.

“What the hell you guys?“ Bruce said to the three Wayne boys, “Why is Damian going to all the events? I thought we had a deal.”

“We did,“ Dick said.

“Yea but Damian said something about need that day blah,blah, lame excuse.” Jason said dismissably, “All I know is that is instead of dealing with stuck up brats, I got to patrol and I beat up some bad guys.”

“Lol same,“ Tim said with a smile, ”I tried to give him all my days but he only want somedays. Hell he even offer to double up and do the later patrol shift so that I didn’t say anything.“

“He did the same thing for me to,“ Dick said.

“Is the little Demon ditching them and blaming it on us?“ Jason said “Because if that the case-“

“No, he isn’t.“ Bruce said, signing, “I just wanted to know why all I see in the social column is Damian and his alleged girlfriend, and not any of you and your alleged girlfriends.“

“You check the social column?“ Tim said with confusion, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

“To see what the hell you guys did this week to piss off the press.“

“I know what we can do!“ Dick said.

“I alright don’t like this,“ Bruce said putting is head in his hands.

~~~~

Damian hated ever minute of the social part he had to do before he saw you. Smile and nodded to the racist old lady opinion on the world. Pretend to listen to some old guy talk about the stock market. Dance with the girls that only wanted his money. But when he saw you the world stopped, and it didn’t matter that he had a stupid suit or painful shoes, what matter was the time you to spent together.

He didn’t what you dragged into the fire storm that is the social gossip world because the two of you where seen outside of the charity events. And if someone snapped a picture of them together he always placed and anonymous phone call the next day saying he saw Damian kissing some high society girl which broke the news for the next week or two.

You didn’t seem to mind. You were so focused on your art that you couldn’t really met expect for at events. Plus you really didn’t watch or read the news so you didn’t know that the guy you where hanging out with was a Wayne. You were just happy to see him at all your shows or events, and always like the fact you had someone to talk to that wasn’t someone from work or a snooty art person saying that your art was bad.

The two of you had just saw each other when the door to the event swung out, showing something Damian hated more than a stupid art show.

A stupid art show with his family.

All of his brothers and sisters was here dress to the nines in gowns and suit, but his father stole the show with Selina Kyle on his arm and in a kickass suit. Everyone is the room was taken aback by their sudden appears and marveled at how good they look, but Damian almost shit himself.

He didn’t need to be super close to his father to see the look in his eyes.

It was his Batman eyes, meaning he was on a mission, and Damian didn’t need to think super hard why he or his family was here.

“I can’t believe the Waynes are here,“ a small voice said causing Damian to almost lose it.

That voice was you.

You looked amazing and he almost got lost in you smile, but he mental smacked himself. He need a plan and quick otherwise he was going to get embarrassed in front of you and he didn’t want that.

“Did you do all you socially thingys for work?“ you asked.

“Yep,“ Damian said turning his back to his family. Hoping the wouldn’t see him.

“Come on then!“ you said with a smile, and grabbed his hand causing him to blush. “I have something to show you.“

Damian forgot about his family and let you drag him away from the main hallway and into a small side room. He knew where he was going before you even took him there.

All the famous artist where in the main hall and all the lesser know was in side rooms. He was getting taken to a side room with your art. You were talking ecstatically about your art.

Apparently some anonymous person had bought all your art before the show even started. Damian smiled to himself, proud that he had caused you such glee.

“But that doesn’t matter“ you kept rambling on as the two of you stop in front of a piece of art. “What do you think?“

It was a beautiful piece of a man and a woman under a lamp light in the middle of a city. The two of them where holding hands and kissing, and Damian was at a lost for words.

“I don’t know what to say,“ he whispered.

“How about thank you?“ you said shyly.

Damian turned to you in confusion. You were blushing and not looking at him.

“What do you mean?“

“Well . . .I. . .umm.. ..aaa made it for you.“ you quickly whispered still not looking at him.

Damian reach out and lightly turned you face towards him.

“Say that again, my love.“

Now you were a bright shade of red and still not meeting his eyes but you said it again, but this time a little louder.

“I made it for you.“

“You didn’t have to.“ Damian said matching your voice level.

“Well you always say you want a piece but whenever I have a show all the art is sold before you ever get one, so I told the studio that all of them but this one is for sale because it saw going to go to you.“ You spoke so fast and all at once. Damian that it was cute when you got all fluster but he knew that if he didn’t stop you would have keep rambling until you ran out of breath. Damian politely cut you cut by putting one finger on your lips.

“It beautiful and I love it Y/N, but I have a confession to make.“

“You do?“ you said looking up at his with your mesmerizing (eye color) eyes. Damian got lost for a second but tried to quickly recovered.

“I. . .umm.. .aa. . .“

“What is it?“ you looked worried but before Damian could say something, someone else chimed in.

“Yea, Damian,“ a voice said “What is it?“

Never had Damian been filled with more rage then at that second.

The two of you looked up to see Dick, Jason, and Tim lending in on the door way. They had a smug ass look at Damian wanted to punch right off their face.

“Get the hell out of here“ Damian said through gritted teeth, shooting dagger at his brothers.

“Well that would be rude!“ Dick said as he and his brother walked over toward you. “We haven’t even introduced our selves.“

Dick forced himself between the two of you to “shake your hand” but Damian knew it was to piss him off.

“I’m Dick, Damian’s older brother, other there is his other brother Jason,“

Jason waved.

“and his other other brother Tim.“

“Pleasure.“ Tim said taking you hand and kissing it.

You give Damian a weird look.

“You’re related to the Wayne Men.“

“Oh he didn’t tell you that.“ Jason said with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Damian’s neck. “That doesn’t sound like our little Damian.”

“Not at all!“ Tim said with crooked smile.

Damian wanted to kill them all but Dick opened his mouth.

“Well I know something that our little Damian would do!“ Dick said with a smile “He would have told you that he keeps buying all of your art and hanging it in his apartment.“

“When did you go to my apartment!“ Damian snapped.

“On the way over!“ Tim said in a manner of fact voice, and he turned back to you, “And may I say what beautiful pieces they are. I wish Damian would let the world see them.“

“I am going to kill the three of you.“ Damian growled.

“Now, now, Damian!“ Jason said “Didn’t I teach you better than to plan a murder out loud.“

Damian was so beyond done with his brothers bullshit and was about to cruse them out when he saw you straighten up and someone clear their voice.

“Evening, sons“ Bruce said, causing the older boys to jump apart. 

Bruce was by himself with a glass of champagne. On the outside he looked like to cool, laid back playboy the media saw but Damian could tell by way he was standing that he was in a mood.

“Hi, Bruce,“ they all said, expect Damian.

“Father.” he said curtly.

“Damian,” Bruce said looking at his son with a cocked eyebrow. “You know we were all going to this party tonight, right? You didn’t need to drive yourself down here tonight, we were waiting for you at your apartment for an hour.”

No, he didn’t know that, but he knew that Bruce was lying about that last part. They had search his apartment not doubt and figured out where he was and decided to make a scene.

“I’m so sorry, Father,“ Damian said matching his fathers gaze. “I didn’t know.“

Bruce signed and looked at his older sons. They were trying their hardest not to do anything draw attention, but they were doing a bad job. They were shooting knowing looks and giggling.

“Got out of here and stop annoying you brother.“ Bruce said putting his face in his hand. The three of them ran out laughing like school boys, leaving Bruce with and annoyed looked.

He turned towards you and took your hand.

“I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Bruce Wayne, I’m Damian’s father.“ Bruce said and kissed you hand.

You just stood and started at him, speechless. It took a minute before you spoke, and when you did Damian wanted to die.

“I see,“ you said in a high breathless voice, causing Bruce to raise an eyebrow.

There was another awkward pause before you realized you were supposed to say your name, but instead you rambled.

“Oh, yes... umm... I’m so sorry, I was thinking. It just kind of happened all at once. I am still trying to understand what exactly is-”

Damian moved quietly next to you and grabbed your hand, and spoke for you.

“Y/N,” Damian said in a confident voice meant to tell his father to back down and to help calm you down. “They are a pretty amazing artist, and the person I love.“

Bruce looked at you and then to his son and gave a soft smile.

“Well, it is nice to have finally have met you, Y/N,“ Bruce said “I hope to see you at the manor sometime soon.“

[koorinohebi]

🆗

Drabbles || Accepting  “You pretended that you’re drunk? Why would you even do that?”

Kiomi stared at this annoying excuse for a human being, brows lofted and twitching. 

“Testing out a theory is all.” And it seemed that it was correct. She really did end up helping him, and even bringing him into her own abode. How careless she was, for sure.

“Glad, NOT so glad to be part of your little pet project. If you’ve nothing more, you can leave.” Her brows were furrowed, an obvious annoyance in her tone.

“Tell me,” Instead of standing to leave, he remained seated opposite from her. Kashin Koji removed the mask which barred a portion of his face that she was surely uncomfortable seeing. And he was right. She averted her eyes briefly, before putting up a veil of feigned indifference once their optics finally met.

There was a relative distress in her features, he could tell. But he continued to stare at her…curiously, seriously. “Do I resemble him? Your Jiraiya.”

Looking at him was like staring into a nightmare, a stark reminder of what she could never hope to have. However, she understood his question. They were past simple notions of physicality. It wasn’t just about his face, nor was it about his origin. It was deeper than that. For Kiomi’s alleged simple-mindedness, this concept was not something so hard to grasp. Not when this was the very base of the learnings she had inherited from the mentor she respected the most. Despite Jiraiya and Kashin Koji’s shared similarities, they were two different people. After all, denying a man his own identity was probably the cruelest judgment any living being could impose on another.

“You don’t.” The answer came simply; however, he did not miss the semblance of melancholy that lingered upon her visage. To him, it felt indicative of disappointment…such fragile and complicated feelings.

“I see.” Kashin Koji had closed his eyes then, satisfied with the answer. In a sense, he felt his lips curve into a smirk. Two words of reassurance. To think that something other than ‘Mission accomplished’ could have significant impact. And as for Kiomi who had only seen the man scowl at her existence, seeing this look on his face for the first time caused her chest to ache. Perhaps in her words, there had been a lie; if only because such an expression looked frighteningly similar to her teacher’s.

“The two of you must have loved each other very dearly.” At this point, he had refocused his gaze upon the female, only to raise a brow shortly after. He had never seen anyone choke on air before. Her flustered features shouldn’t have been anything extraordinary, but it felt amusing. “Was I mistaken?”

“Yes, you’re wrong! You’re very wrong!” She retorted, her flushed face, easily beating the most crimson of fruits. “Everything, this…my…they’re all just…” She tried to calm down as she explained. “…they’re all just…what I’m trying to say is…whatever they are, they’re all just one-sided emotions…” She looked downtrodden. He recalled Naruto saying that their mentor died while she was away figuring out herself, and had carried a burden none of them could share. Jiraiya had meant everything to them, each within varying degrees unknown just how much to one another.

Now learning that all of this was one sided, he looked at her with lethargy. “Are you actually an idiot after all?”

“Oi, you actually dare to call me an idiot in my own house. Besides, it’s not like I stood a chance against the person sought after.” It wasn’t a secret to her after all, that he had his eyes on Lady Tsunade. What chance did she have against someone who had shared in his losses, successes, strife, and victories? They had years of history together. Things that an outside like her could not touch. It was enough just being a student. That was perfectly fine. 

“Was what you felt actually so flimsy that it lost to someone else’s? Did you confirm it with your own mouth?”

The questions that bombarded her, matched with such an unexpected interrogator threw her off. So much that when she had come to her senses, she found herself face to face with Kashin Koji. If she was distraught earlier, then the ante had been upped. Trapped in between his arms and the wall, being stared at, it felt horrible and suffocating for many reasons that she couldn’t understand. “Should I teach you just how lofty your feelings are?” He lingered so close, too close for comfort. But that was where she drew the line. Steeling herself, she pulled her head back just enough to give her some room to drive her forehead down against his. THWACK!

Both of them found themselves clutching their heads, one clicked his tongue and the other was cussing up a storm in her mind.

“Don’t you dare mock me—“

She was on the verge of throwing him out, but there he was, laughing, collapsed on the floor as he held onto his forehead. She stifled her annoyance because she remembered how; pranks of the same nature had been done to her, by none other than her favorite mentor. And he would laugh just the same. At least sensei’s were a little more innocent and subtle. “Don’t laugh at me either!” She demanded with childish vigor, kicking him in the shin repeatedly. He fended them off well enough, which added to her irritation. 

“That’s enough out of you.” Finally, he spoke.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do in my own hou—hou—“ That was to say, if she wasn’t going to stop her assault, then he would have to play along. Grabbing her ankle when she struck, he pulled her over; just enough to make her balance crumble, bringing her down effectively.

“What the actual hell is wrong with you?”

“Even now, you’re struggling to protect what’s important to you. You may be a bit weaker than others, but it doesn’t seem like you’re lacking in persistence and perseverance. What are you so afraid of?”

Again with questions and commentaries that she did not ask for.

Her silence was enough of a response. Regrets, apprehensions, guilt, it was painted on her face. Shaking his head, Kashin Koji came to a stand and dusted himself, thereafter extending a hand for her to take.

“At the very least, come up to the starting line and show that mentor of yours your resolve.”

She begrudgingly looked at the hand that was offered to her. She felt ashamed and annoyed at herself because she knew that his point was valid. He wasn’t wrong, and in fact, he made more sense than she had wanted to admit. With an inward sigh, she took that hand and he helped her to her feet.

“…” Their grasp on each other persisted for a while. There was no warmth there; no comfort of a familiar friend, but there was a firmness that was enough to uproot whatever doubt it was that crept within the confines of her mind. She wouldn’t exactly call the other’s presence reassuring, but in a sense it was something remotely close to it.

“Tsk, just who do you think you are? Acting all high and mighty?” Compared to before, the scowl had turned a bit friendly, but a scowl none the less.

“In case you haven’t heard or have been mistaking me for someone else, it’s Kashin Koji.” He replied with a tinge of whimsy in his voice. Matched with that was a tighter grip on the female’s hand which she reciprocated in kind. “Kiomi.” She rebutted against his satirical introduction.

When they at last released each other, there was probably a reddening mark there, but it also seemed like they’ve come to a certain understanding. “With a grip like that, what do you even hope to accomplish?”

Everything that comes out of his mouth is a fucking insult… Kiomi mused, unabashed by such a sentiment. Still, she watched him retrieve his mask only to wear it over his face once more. “I’ve a scouting mission at the Hokage’s behest. Two days time.” He stated out of the blue, walking towards her direction, incidentally near the exit. “Join me.”

“And why exactly, should I do that?” Folding her arms over her chest, she asked.

“Learn something useful rather than wallow in your self-pity.” Just before he could pass her completely, the intruder halted to cup her chin casually. “You’re not outclassed by anyone, not even by the Godaime. Put yourself to good use. You are a Shinobi, after all.”

“What does Lady Tsunade even have to do with this?”

“Who else would you feel so inferior to? It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Besides,”

Finally, he’d relinquish his hold to observe her frame carefully. She was a slender woman, possibly bordering voluptuous underneath all that fabric. From the wrinkles and silhouette of her attire, he could tell that she was filled out in all the right places. Fair skin, a set of apprehensive platinum orbs…among other things. “You have the curves. Maybe not the appeal and self confidence, but you have the curves. You’ll be fine.”

Perhaps it was in that retort that Kiomi ran after Kashin Koji as he left her place, albeit with a senbon or two hurled at the man. “I was wrong; you’re probably as much of a letch as Jiraiya-sensei!”

The projectiles were caught between the fingers and twirled around like some kind of toy. With ease, no troubles; he decided to keep them as a souvenir. “How presumptuous, I wouldn’t waste my time on countless women.” He waved her off, walking away and finally disappearing from her sight.

What the hell is up with that guy anyway…? It was the last of her thoughts as she returned inside.

They started on the wrong foot, and it probably wasn’t going to get better any time soon.

However, they were finally at the starting line of their own journeys; making the best of who and what they were meant to be.

[antihero-writings]

What They Want to Believe Ch1--Tangled Varian and Quirin Fic (Full Chapter!)

Title: What They Want to Believe

Synopsis: Quirin has to find out what Varian did eventually.

(For all those who like Varian’s canon redemption, but who are looking for some more could-be-canon angst.)

Notes:

I know this idea has probably been done by someone, or perhaps many others...but I have yet to read them, and I've really wanted to write a Varian fic for a while, and this was something I thought would be really fun to expand upon (and I've really enjoyed writing it so far)!!

This chapter is supposed to take place immediately after S3 E1-2: Rapunzel's Return.

Chapter 1:

Varian breathes deep. The city air smells sweet. Sweeter now than it ever had. He forgot how much he missed the smell of flowers, and cupcakes, and new shoes.

“It’s lovely out here, isn’t it?” Rapunzel voices his thoughts, smiling at him.

“Beats being in a cell, I’ll give you that.” Varian tries to joke, to fight the lump rising in his throat. “Anything beats Andrew’s all-natural scent, that’s for sure.”

She tries to smile too.

He looks away. He isn’t quite sure how to act around her now. She had forgiven him; they’d saved the kingdom together, even. She hadn’t sent him back to his cell afterwards…not that they’d talked about it.

Should he pretend like it never happened? That he’s always been just another law-abiding citizen, just the alchemist in Old Corona, that kid who caused a lot of little—well, sometimes big—unintentional mishaps… not the villain who tried to overthrow the kingdom…even if it’s not true?

Or should they confront it, admit that he spent the last year in a cell, because he’d done terrible things—that he’d try to kill her, her friends and family?

But if they confronted it, admitted it…what would happen? Would that remind her of all the reasons not to trust him, all the reasons she should throw him back into that cell after all?

Something moves in the corner of his eye, and he turns to see Old Lady Crowley fluffing out a sheet, giving him the evil eye all the while.

She does that to everyone, he tells the thing that pangs inside him.

As they continue their stroll through the city streets, Varian notices she isn’t the only one with less-than-cordial looks for him.

Feldspar slams his door when they walk by.

…Maybe he had a shoe-related emergency?

There’s a woman who ducks into an alley with her baby, a kid who gasps and gets out of the way.

He turns again, and Monty is at their side. He is the first to actually speak;

“You know, you’ve got some nerve to show your face around here.”

Rapunzel taps her foot impatiently. “Well excuuuse me for wanting to—!”

“No—though I’ll admit it’s a shocker—not you;” he brandishes his frosting-clad spatula from her to Varian, “him.”—the alleged ‘him’s eyes widen—“Since when are you two all cookies-and-cream again? Didn’t he try to kill you?”

“‘Kill’ is a strong word,” Rapunzel tries to laugh, looking away, her smile twisting a little.

“What word would use for it?” he folds his arms over his chest.

“Umm…” Rapunzel flicks the frosting her off her dress. “Not ‘kill’ that’s for sure...More like uhh…” She turns to the alchemist, and he doesn’t dare return her gaze, for fear of what he’ll find there.

“I was just trying to save my dad—”

“So you didn’t send a monster into the city?” A woman calls.

“Uh, well,” he rubs the back of his neck, “that was more of a diversion really—”

“A diversion so you could kidnap the Queen!” this is the first raised voice, raised fist, coming from behind him.

He turns to see they’ve accumulated something of a crowd.

“Yeah!” another voice speaks from behind them, “How can you let someone like him still walk free?! People have been killed for less!”

“Hey, listen!” Rapunzel steps in front of him, “He may have made some misguided decisions, but he’s not some monster! We all make mistakes sometimes!”

“He may not be a monster, but what do you call the thing he sent into the city?!”

“And how do you explain the automatons?!”

“Or how he stole the sun flower!”

“From the royal vault no less!”

“Or how he hurt the captain?!”

“It could have been much worse!”

“What if he had killed someone?!”

“He needs to be punished!”

“Locked up!”

“He’s a traitor!”

“Yeah, a traitor!”

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

The accusations blend together into some sick smoothie of sound, a dull ringing fault-line.

The clouds are rolling in too grey, too fast. His whole world is turning monochrome.

“I can’t believe you let him go, after everything he did to you.” Eugene crosses his arms, glaring at him like he’s the wrong size nose on a wanted poster.

“Eugene!” Varian tries to move towards him, to plead with him, but he bumps into Lance, whose arms are folded, face set.

“Where do you think you’re going, little man?”

“I just—”

I need to think. I need to figure this out. To do something. I need to get out of here. I need to find my dad.

“Tch, you know, if it were me,” Cassandra leans against a building, her face half hidden in shadow—Where is she now? Why didn’t she come back with them?— “I’d leave him to rot with the rest of the criminals.”

“No, Cassie…”

—Something is wrong, something is wrong, they just don’t want to tell me—

But, worse than all this, another voice breaks through the throng.

“Varian…is all this true?”

And this voice doesn’t shout. Doesn’t accuse. Doesn’t scorn. It isn’t even angry, just…disappointed. So very disappointed.

“Dad…” the word falls pitifully to the stones, like a child who dropped his ice cream, and I will make you proud rings through his head like a death knell.

At first Varian doesn’t turn to face him, just stands there, staring at the ground, trying to formulate words that will explain what happened, without neutralizing his ‘I’m so proud of you’ that he had given earlier. But words aren’t like numbers, they don’t follow rules, they twist and writhe, and never do what they’re told. So he just stands there, words failing him, mouth hanging open like a creaky door.

Then he does lift his head, and Quirin isn’t incased in amber. He’s alive, out, and safe, but Varian almost selfishly wishes he was still in the amber, because then he wouldn’t have to bear this look in his father’s eyes, the look that makes him want to shrivel up like a worm in the sun.

Rapunzel. He has to get back to Rapunzel. Rapunzel won’t judge him. Won’t say he needs to be punished. She forgave him. She’ll explain everything to them. Rapunzel, Rapunzel give me your strength. Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your defense.

Having lost her in the crowd, he casts his gaze, like a fishing line, from one side to the other. He gets a bite; his eyes land upon her, between Xavier and a Pete, her back turned.

He runs to her.

“Rapunzel!” he calls, reaching out.

But the moment he touches her, a stain starts to spread along her hair, like it’s a squid he scared. But the ink spill doesn’t stop; like the best of plagues, it keeps spreading, until she’s nothing but a blotch on the world.

As the golden strands dim to black they break their bonds, becoming a living thing with tentacles and a bone to pick with the pirates who dared cross its waters.

She turns to him, and the ink has stained her gaze too; her eyes are nothing but caverns in the surface of her face now; a layer of the sea no one dares enter, for there are things with teeth down there.

“R-Rapunzel?” his voice isn’t so sure-footed, isn’t so certain it’s the right name.

She takes a step forward, her bare foot against the stones, and he takes a step back in this dance, because she doesn’t look like she’s going to defend him, in fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d think she was going to attack him too—

“Wither and decay” her voice is not the bright, not gentle, not kind. “End this destiny”

“Rapunzel—It’s me!” and now his voice is sure, pleading.

He continues backing up, trying to get away, but he’s bumps into a wall of people, and when he looks up at their leering faces, he sees that their eyes are black too.

That sends him recoiling back into the center of the circle with the moon-struck sundrop, who continues chanting;

“Break these Earthly chains”

She doesn’t belong to the sun anymore. She’s a thing of moon and shadow.

On “chains” her blackened hair, of its own accord, snaps around his arms and torso like he’s the offending ship, and it’ll bend him till he breaks.

“Rapunzel! Please!” he shouts, “It’s me, Varian! I-I’m your friend!” but the last three words are cracking gasps, because something is infecting his lungs; something very cold is reaching into the center of his chest, a living emptiness, sucking away, feeding off, all the light and life in him. His chest is stinging, aching, burning—

“And set the spirit free.”

This is more than just heartache. Decay is eating at his body, corroding it away like acid.

And the alchemist can do nothing but watch as the black eats him alive; his lungs collapsing in on themselves, like his breath was built on sand—(but it feels like he’s breathing too much)—gripping his heart, digging in like needles—(but it feels like it’s beating too fast)—wrapping around his hands, his feet and unraveling them into strings of lifeless flesh.

He reaches out with breathless voice and lifeless hands to the only person whose voice never raised throughout this affair, who never insulted him, whose gaze has not been doused in moonless night, the one for whom all this was done:

“Dad! Dad help me!” The words are swallowed by the black in his throat.

Quirin turns away.

And as it devours him—

There’s a ceiling above him, a bed below him, a nightlight made of glowing tubes beside him.

He’s still alive—a little too alive; sitting bolt upright in bed, breath heavy and gasping on his chest, sweat dripping down his face, beneath his clothes, as if he really was in some epic sea battle, still able to taste the end of those last words on awake lips.

It takes a moment for reality to tie its strings around him, pull him back to the ground again, for his breath to deepen, and his mind to clear. For him to realize that this is, in fact, his room, not a city road, or a cell, and he is a fourteen-year-old-boy again; an alchemist, a son, a friend, a kid…not a villain, a criminal, or a prisoner. Not anymore.

He grimaces, bringing his knees up and hugging them, burying his face in them, like he always did when these sorts of things plagued him in his cell, and he had no dad to run to. He has his dad back to run to now…but he can’t go to him, not anymore, not about this.

Maybe he isn’t anymore, but he was once; all the things the dreamified versions of his friends accused him of were true. …And his half awake brain wonders if they really thought those things, beneath it all.

He had hoped, if and when he was free from prison, and better yet, forgiven, that he would be free of these villainous dreams too.

Ruddiger chitters from the bed beside him, pawing at his hand.

He must have hoped the nightmares would stop too.

“I’m okay, Ruddiger,” he says softly. “I just—”

Is he?

Because it isn’t over. Not really. Not enough.

He had his father back, yes. He was out of prison. Yes. And Rapunzel had forgiven him, and, as, it seemed, did the rest of her gang—(“Where’s Cass?” He’d asked once all the kingdom-saving was over, and he’d scanned the group, and found an empty slot in the lineup. Eugene said they’d tell him later, when everything was more settled…and Varian didn’t much like the sound of that)—Yes. But that didn’t mean everyone else did.

It didn’t mean the King and Queen did. When their memories were restored, what would they think? What would they do when they saw the kid who kidnapped the Queen, tried to kill their citizens and princess, who they’d locked up, running about? What could he say?

Oh, hi, remember me? You know, the kid who kidnapped you and threatened your daughter? The one who sent a monster and a bunch of automatons to cause havoc to your kingdom, and endanger the lives of your subjects? Yeah, that’s me. It’s all good now. Would you like a cookie?

They didn’t come into the kingdom, or the dungeon, often, so they weren’t liable to notice right away when their memories did return…but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. And when they did…what if they didn’t believe Rapunzel, or him? What if they sent him back to that cell? Would he have to spend the rest of his days sitting with Andrew and his equally-all-natural-scented cronies? Would he grow up with three walls and some bars for a teacher? Never to use alchemy again, never to see his dad again, never to eat a good meal, or smell the flowers, or kiss a girl…

And then there was the question using the back of his mind as a chew toy: What will dad think?

Varian would do everything in his power to hide it—sweep the subject under beds and rugs and opportunely-placed cabinets—but he was bound to clean up eventually.

And… what would Quirin do then? Would he look at him as he had in the dream? Would he take back the ‘I’m proud of you’ that Varian did all those horrible things just to hear? Would he hate him? Punish him? Kick him out? Send him back to that cell himself?

Of course he will. How could he ever be proud of you after he learns everything you’ve done? His mind taunts.

He had said as much to Rapunzel. “If he knew all the things I’d done, well he’d be ashamed.”

With nothing but walls, bars, and a bunch of separatists for company, he had rehearsed the words he’d say to her so many times in his head. It started with ‘I don’t need your help Princess!’ to ‘Rapunzel I…Well, it doesn’t matter.’ then ‘I…I didn’t mean it, you know that, right?’ then after a few more drafts it became something full of tears and—‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Rapunzel…I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean to hurt anybody…I just wanted to make my dad proud, but I know he won’t be anymore, I know he won’t, I know, I’m such an idiot, I know, I know—‘ And finally it was what he had actually said—with his heart hammering in his throat.

Her acceptance of his words, of him, had been sheer relief. Saving the kingdom never felt so good.

Yet at the same time, that idea that Quirin would be ashamed hadn’t changed just because Rapunzel had forgiven him. Just because his father was out of the amber, and Varian was out of prison, didn’t mean everything he’d done to get his father out, everything that had got him into prison, was erased. He was still going to learn all the things his screw-up-of-a-son did.

It was bad enough when his experiments failed. When Dad walked in to see acid steaming on the walls, and burns on his son’s forearms. He knew how all-too-often his dad was a having a perfectly pleasant, normal, non-stress-inducing day, when he heard explosions coming from his son’s room.

And having to tell him was almost always worse. Having to tell him how he may or may not have set the Goslicks prized chicken on fire, and well needless to say it wasn’t going to be so prized anymore… How they’d have to stay with friends for three to five days, because the gas steaming from the lab wasn’t exactly the intended effect...Or why the town’s water supply mysteriously found itself pink and tasting of croissants…Standing there with his insides writhing, awaiting his punishment, or simply having to live with the look of disappointment on his face, was always worse than how it felt to actually make the mistake.

This was more than a few accidental side effects. This was something he did on purpose. Something he actually deserved to be punished for, not just with a reprimand, or a time out, or spanking from his father, but with actual prison time from the king.

Which would be worse? Dad finding out somehow…or the thought of having to tell him himself?

How would that even go anyways?

“Well dad, while you were in the amber I…did some stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, stuff…” and he’d cough the next few words into his sleeve “crimes, acts of treason...whatever you wanna call it. You know that sundrop flower everyone always talks about? I may or may not have uhh borrowed it.”

“Borrowed?”

“Borrowed, stolen, let’s not go into semantics here.”

“Wait,” he’d wave his hands and put one on his forehead, “You’re not actually telling me you stole from the king—” And he’d stand, all menacing.

“Yeah, you might wanna stay sitting down for this,”—Varian would look away, backing up, rubbing the back of his neck nervously—“it’s a long story, and not exactly the standing-up kind.”

“Varian—” He wouldn’t sit down, in fact he’d keep marching towards him.

“I-I thought it would help you b-break out of the amber.”Varian would stumble in both words and action, and the thought of meeting his eyes would be pure torture. “I-I thought I could if I could just get my hands on the sundrop I could—”—and he’s speaking too fast, too loud now— “I could…I-I thought…I just…”—and then, the next second too slow, too soft—“I thought…” And then the words would trail off, excuses falling limp and lifeless in his mouth as the truth caught up with him.

Even in his rehearsal he couldn’t finish the idea. Couldn’t let his father get a word in edgewise, because if he did…

Either option sounded like an evil mastermind’s best torture plan. Yeah, no matter how many times Quirin taught him it was best to tell the truth, he would never bring himself to say that to him.

His father’s pride was all that mattered, the thought of losing it…

He throws his legs over the side of the bed, letting the static in his eyes scatter before standing. He glances out the window at the navy sky injected with orange, but morningless still.

He grabs his goggles and apron, Ruddiger at his his heels as he heads downstairs to his lab, doing what he always does when he stressed…well, when he’s in any mood really: alchemy.

It was strange to see this place without the amber. It golden tower had become a permanent decoration, a reminder of how alchemy had failed him, how he had failed his father… a sort of dark promise.

He and Rapunzel hit reset…yet he couldn’t return to how things were before the storm so easily as she could.

He pulls on his gloves and goggles, his thoughts still churning.

When Dad found out…would he send him back to prison? The people of Corona could shout all they wanted, but they didn’t have the authority to send him back there.

But his dad…He could punish him, could turn him in. Varian forgot what it was, but he had once taken one of Quirin’s things and tried to experiment on it…and he quite clearly remembered sitting outside in the rain without dinner that night. What would he do when he learned he’d kidnapped the Queen, sent a monster after the citizens, and automatons after his friends? Dads should punish their kids when they steal cookies, much less kidnap queens and threaten princesses. They should teach their kids to rescue princesses from towers, and damsels in distress, without accepting so much as a kiss as payment, and always abide by, and uphold, the law.

His eyes fall upon a book on his desk.

It was funny really. Varian loved the tales of Flynn Rider; this hero who always defeated the villains and saved the day.

And here he was, the bad guy. Just like the ones who Flynn had to use his wit and sword skills to defeat.

The baddies’ motives always seemed so ridiculous in the past; taking over the world, leveling cities for the sake of scorned love, destroying kingdoms for the sake of a grudge…

The beaker he’s holding slips from his grasp. Ruddiger catches it with his tail before it hits the ground.

“Thanks buddy,” he takes it back from him.

He holds up the beaker his reflection distorted in the glass.

The villain.

The word burns like bile at the back of his brain.

The thought of his dad seeing him like that, not just with disappointment in his eyes, but as a criminal, a traitor, a villain, for all the things he did to save him…

“Varian—”

Varian gasps, fumbling again, but this time he manages to catch it, “Dad! Hey!” he sets the beaker down, turning to him, “Hi! It’s good—good to see you! Good morning!”

Quirin smiles as he walks into the lab, yawning and stretching. “I feel like I’ve been asleep for years.”

“Well, to be fair, you, uhh, almost have.” Varian pulls his goggles onto his head.

“How long was I out for, again?”

“Uhh…ehh I don’t know, I mean, it’s all kind of a blur—”

—He tries not to think of tallymarks on prison walls—

His father grunts in response, walking around the lab, looking at all the writings on these walls. The same ones left over from all those months long ago—those months when he would do anything to get him out—collecting dust, and the new ones for the Saporians. Varian sidesteps over to the worst ones, hiding them behind his back.

“You discover any new elements while I was out?” he asks, half-jokingly.

“Oh…uhh…” he rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously, “N-Nah. I was kinda…uhh…preoccupied…”

Quirin’s expression shifts, the smile fading. He steps up to his son—who stares at him, and for a second, something fearful in Varian wonders if he’s onto him—but then Quirin leans forward and wraps him into a bone-cracking hug.

Varian’s eyes widen in surprise, but he lifts his arms and returns the gesture, squeezing tightly, smiling.

This was the thing he missed most; not the smell of flowers and cupcakes, not good food, or alchemy, not even Rapunzel’s everlasting smiles….his dad’s hugs.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” Quirin sighs, “That must have been very difficult for you,” Quirin murmurs into his ear, “having to make it all on your own.”—Varian’s eyes widen again, but this time it doesn’t turn into a smile— “I’m so sorry you had to go through that…And I’m so proud that you made it through.” He brushes his hand through his hair.

When he releases him, Varian looks from his father to ground, smiling sheepishly, brushing the hair from his eyes, unsure what to say.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything.”

“Oh—Yeah—Thanks—Well—”

“Of course—” Quirin clarifies, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m just saying, I’m here if you ever do.”

“Thanks.” He tries to smile.

There’s an awkward pause, then Quirin turns to leave, “I’ll let you get back to it—”

“Wait, dad,” Varian grabs his arm, “I was thinking…maybe we could spend some time together today? You know, like a father-son-day…thing?”

“I’d love to, Varian,” he puts his hand on his cheek, “but…as I have been, uhh, out of commission, for a long time, I really must get back to my duties. You know, become reacquainted with the town and what’s going on.”

“Oh…Oh! Yeah, right, of course. Psh,” he waves his hand, “It wasn’t that big a deal anyways.”

“You’re welcome to come along, if you like.”

Varian contemplates it. From experience these sorts of trips around town were pretty boring; mostly discussing how well crops were growing, and if anybody needed help repairing their house and whatnot, and Varian’s alchemical solutions were more often than not brushed aside...But he does want to spend time with his dad, not to mention the fact that there would probably be a number of things in town still in need of repairing, whose circumstances Varian wouldn’t exactly want explained to his dad…

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Wonderful.” He smiles.

“I’ll meet you out there in just a minute.”

Quirin nods, making his way up the stairs.

Varian turns to clean up his work station but does so too quickly, accidentally knocking the beaker to the ground at last, it shattering with a puff of blue smoke, the contents spilling out, his hand hanging uselessly in the air, reaching towards it.

Ruddiger bounds over to it to help clean up. After they finish, the raccoon sits on his back legs, cocking his head to the side, chittering worriedly.

“It’s okay, buddy.” He smiles.

The Raccoon still looks worried.

“I’m okay.”

…Is he?

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 6

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 4,673

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

“Oh jeez, seriously?” Rayne snerked, a tiny plastic taste spoon hanging out of one corner of her mouth. “C’mon Elsa, they were just man boobs!”

Feeling a faint warmth creep up into my face, I huffed and turned my head to one side. “You don’t know, you weren’t there!”

“Psssh,” her eyes rolled, “I doubt they’re as mind blowing as you’re making them out to be.”

I twitched, gaze darting to the left. “I never exactly said the words mind blowing...”

Never said they weren't either.

...shush, brain.

She removed the tiny pink spoon from between her teeth to twirl it in the air as she singsonged, “The way you’re overreacting, you may as well have.”

Blushing intensifies.

“I’m not overreacting, I… I’m REacting! In… in just the exact right, perfect amount!” I stammered out, lightly stamping my foot down.  “I mean, one second he’s just standing there, and the next? He takes his shirt off! Right in front of me! Who does that?!”

“Sure a lotta guys would love to,” she muttered, but I hardly heard her in my current state of mid-rant.

“I mean, the Pizza Planet back room was just a ten second walk away, he couldn’t wait that long? He had to do it right there, right that second? That’s it! That’s the only reason that I’m being all… this! It has nothing to do with the alleged mind blowing...ness of his, uh…his...” I floundered, gesturing wildly to my bosom, “... décolletage or the accompanying, er…” my hand now did a frantic circle around my abdomen, “...accoutrements! I mean, fine, okay, I’m sure as far as man boobs and such go, his are very, ah… very nice.  Adequate. Stately, even.” Dear god, somebody stop me. “...pleasantly symmetrical? Quite… satisfactory and well structured… s-some might even say-”

“You done?” she cut in, an eyebrow quirking.

I hid my face in my hands, mumbling, “Yes please.”

“Alright. Now girl, let me tell you, you haven’t seen mind blowing pectorals until you’ve seen Riku’s. I-” she stopped, snapping her fingers. Then she was digging her phone out of her back pocket, her thumb now rapidly swiping across the screen several times. “Hang on, I got pictures, I can show you. Ah-ha!” She grinned brightly, turning the phone screen towards me and thrusting it in my face.

“Gah!” I quickly looked away, raising a hand to block the image. “Why?! Just… why?!”

“What? I’m proud of my hubby’s man boobs and like showing them off!”

Thankfully, Kristoff chose that moment to join us, usual bored look in place as he stretched his arm across the counter, offering a dollop of ice cream on another small spoon to Rayne. “Here’s the taste of Daisy Sorbet you asked for, Ma’am,” he droned out.

Eyes lighting up, she tossed the first spoon, snatching the new one up and sticking it in her mouth. “Mmmmm, fantastic! Now, garçon, I’d like to sample the Honeybunny please!”

He huffed out a soft growl. “Ma’am, that’ll be the twentieth flavor you’ve tasted. Would you like to try, oh, say, I dunno… actually buying something?”

“Excuse me,” she sniffed, raising her nose up and placing a hand on her chest, fingers splayed, “but I am with child, sir. Picking the exact right flavor of ice cream that won’t upset my sweet lil jellybean is a delicate, delicate process.”

Kristoff groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he fixed me with a dull stare. “Elsa, make your friend go shoo.”

I gave him a sympathetic smile, but just shook my head, “Sorry, not happening.” 

“Ha!” Rayne cried triumphantly. “Now be a good boy, run along and get me that Honeybunny! Chop chop! We don’t need you hanging around listening in on us discussing our important business!” 

His eyelids droop. “I believe I overheard the phrase ‘man boobs’ several times, how important can it really be?”

Rayne thrust out her lower lip, tapping an index finger to it. “Oh dear, there’s been such a long interruption now to my taste testing… I hope I don’t forget all the flavors I’ve already tried and have to start all over from the beginning again…”

“...one sample of the Honeybunny coming right up, Ma’am,” he said through grit teeth before turning and walking away.

I muffled a snort into my hand as I watched him go.

Sorry, Kristoff!

It was now the next day and I was back at work. I’d done my best the night before to clean up the devastating aftermath in the wake of Hurricane Ice Cream, but hadn’t quite been able to get it all - in particular, the splatters across the ceiling were just simply out of my reach. So I’d shown up early this morning to meet the opening crew on their way in and explain what had happened, offering what further assistance I could. Luckily, I hadn’t gotten in trouble. According to Kristoff, pushing the Anger Button was practically a right of passage for all new employees at this point. Pretty much everyone that’d ever worked here had done it at some time or another. I was just warned not to let it happen again.

Which, trust me, I wasn’t. I was going to be very mindful to not invade the Anger Button's personal space from now on.

I’d been exhausted when I’d got back home so late last night, so had gone straight to bed. Then this morning I’d rushed out practically at the crack of dawn, so I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to Rayne. But she was making up for lost time by coming down now in the middle of the day to visit me at work and had just finished dragging my latest little misadventure out of me. She claimed she had a sixth sense about these things, that she’d known something was up and that I'd needed someone to talk to. 

And I'm sure all the free samples she was scoring right now had absolutely squat to do with it.

As soon as Kristoff was out of earshot once more, she hunched over the counter towards me and lowered her voice, “Alright but no, seriously, why was seeing Lea in all his shirtless glory such a big deal now, hm? You act like you've never seen a dude topless before.”

I flinched. “Well…”

Her brow furrowed. “…you have seen a dude topless, right? I mean, you were engaged for crying out loud!”

“Oh no, I have,” I nodded before pursing my lips to one side, averting my gaze. “But…”

“But?” she prompted. If she had a seat, she would quite literally be on the edge of it.

My hand reached up to toy with my braid. Nope, still a ponytail. Sighing, I said, “It was only ever in public settings, like big group outings on Father’s yacht. Last night was just… different.” I paused to bite down on my bottom lip before whispering, “I’ve never been alone with a half naked guy before.”

Something clicked behind Rayne’s eyes as they widened. “Wait… Elsa… did you and your ex ever, you know… do the do?”

I hesitated, fidgeting with my fingers. “We-”

“Alright, here’s the Honeybunny, as requested.”

Whew! Saved by the Kristoff!

He offered the new spoonful of ice cream to her, but her hand snapped up to block it. Her gaze remained narrowed on me as she told him, “I’m gonna need a sample of every single flavor. Stat.”

“Oh, come on!” Kristoff whined. “Even the ones you’ve already tried?!”

“Especially the ones I’ve already tried.”

Grumbling under his breath, he spat out, “Fine, but then that’s it, I’m cutting you off. Crazy preggo lady or not, you’re either going to have to buy something or beat it.” 

He turned to go, but was halted as Rayne said, “Kristoff.” He looked back over her shoulder to see her eyes dead serious. “Leave the Honeybunny.”

His lips flapped as he puffed out a heavy breath, then handed her the taste spoon and stomped off. 

“That should keep him busy and buy us a few minutes of privacy,” she beamed, shoving the ice cream into her mouth and once more leaving the spoon dangling from her lips. Then she planted her elbows on the counter, propped her chin in her palms and bat her lashes at me. “So… you were saying?”

I could feel that soft heat cozying up inside my cheeks again. “Could we maybe talk about this later? This isn’t particularly a discussion I want to have at a mall nor in my place of work, and we’re two for two right now.”

“Well tough noogies, sweetpea, cuz it’s happening. Now out with it.” 

Exhaling through my nose, I relented. “No, we never… I’ve never… done that. I... told him that I wanted to wait until marriage.”

She released a low whistle - an impressive feat given the spoon still between her lips. “So you’re still rocking your V-card? Who woulda thought you were so traditional? I mean, knowing you, I guess maybe I shoulda figured...”

“That’s just it though, I’m not sure if I am,” I hung my head with a frown. “It’s just… me and him, we made sense as a couple on the surface, at least in my head we did. And sure, we would go out on dates and we would kiss, but… I was just never really interested in going beyond that… with him…”

“But you’re thinking with the right guy, you might?” She bent in further, waggling her eyebrows. “...be interested?” 

My nose wrinkled and I lifted one shoulder.  “I’m honestly not sure… maybe?”

Rayne leaned back once more, holding her hands up, “That’s okay, that’s a big topic to tackle and not one you necessarily have to sort out right this second, so let’s take a step back from that. Start with something smaller. Something like learning to get out of your comfort zone every once in a while.”

I tipped my head to one side, “My comfort zone?”

“Sweetie, I love you, you know I do, but you’re one awkward penguin, plain and simple. Last night is a prime example, and just one of many at that. Now that you’ve left the life of the rich and pampered behind you and are out in this brave new world, you should start putting yourself out there more. You know, try new things, anything really would be good, no matter how small and insignificant it might seem, just to get you out of that protective bubble you tend to keep yourself in.”

“But I like the bubble,” I pouted, my voice small. “It’s all round and comfy and safe.”

She grinned gently, “I know it is, but I think this could really do you some good.”

Grimacing, I managed to snag a thin tendril of my ponytail to twist around my finger. “Okay, so then… what kind of things were you thinking?”

“That brings us to Lesson Two of The Real World for Dummies,” she held up a pair of fingers with a tiny smirk. “Making friends!”

I blinked and then gave a tiny scoff, “I’ve made friends.”

“Name one since you’ve started this whole independence thing.”

“Easy,” I crossed my arms, “Riku.”

She shook her head. “Riku and I are a package deal. He was basically a freebie and doesn’t count.”

Frowning in thought, I tried, “Frozone and Kristoff?”

Rayne gave a derisive snort. “Work friends? You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

My eyebrows knit together before I brightened. “Sora! He’s my friend, he said so himself!”

“Please, that boy would make friends with a toaster given half the chance,” she deadpanned. “In fact, he did once. It involved a sharpie smiley face. Nuff said. No, name one new friendship that you had to put some sort of effort into forming and didn’t simply fall into your lap. Go on. I’m listening.”

...darn it, she was right.

It seemed my hermit was showing.

Her grin turned smug. “That’s what I thought. So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go out there and you’re gonna make yourself a new lil friend. That’s part one of getting you out of your comfort zone.”

Oh no.

“There’s a part two?”

“Yup!” She slammed her phone down on the counter before me and ordered, “Call them.”

I gave a nervous chuckle and tossed my hands up in a loose shrug, asking innocently, “Call who?”

“Don’t get cute with me, missy! You think I forgot our lil chat a few days ago, but think again! Enough is enough, you’ve had plenty of time, now stop making excuses and just do it already. I know it’s scary, but this is just something you gotta do! You-”

“I thought I might find you here.”

Back stiffening at the third voice chiming into the conversation, Rayne slowly turned around to see Riku standing there, arms folded under his chest, one foot tapping as he went on, “Isn’t somebody supposed to be staying home and getting lots of bed rest?”

“Tch,” her lip curled slightly, “c’mon, I’m barely showing, just let me live my life!”

Biting back a grin, he took a step towards, “Come on, you, let’s get you back-”

“Jailbreak!” She booked it, darting off into the plastic jungle that was the food court.

His shoulders slumped and he scratched the back of his head as he called after her, “Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase your sorry butt?”

“Yup!” she cackled, strategically positioning herself so that several tables were between her and her husband. 

“Fine,” he smirked slyly, “but you asked for it. Here I come!” He bolted after her.

“Great,” I heard a grumble beside me, turning to see Kristoff standing there with a sour look and roughly forty of those teeny, ice cream laden spoons wedged between all his fingers on both hands. “Now what am I supposed to do with these?”

“Eat them?” I grinned as I plucked one free and closed my mouth around it. Mmmmmm, chocolate! “Otherwise it would be wasteful, which is bad for the environment.”

He gave me a flat look. “Okay, I know you’re being facetious and I don’t care.” One corner of his lips turning up, he lifted one spoon-adorned fist into the air. “I must do my part… for the environment!” Then he crammed five of them into his mouth.

“The planet applauds you for your service and your sacrifice, sir,” I snorted as he ambled off once more.

It was only then that I looked down and realized Rayne’s phone still rested atop the counter before me. Taunting me. Maybe she’d simply forgot it, but honestly? Pretty sure that girl knew exactly what she was doing. With a sigh, I picked it up, my reflection staring back at me in the blackened screen.

...okay, maybe I had been putting it off long enough, to the point of ridiculousness even. Delaying the inevitable was probably only making it worse at this point. I should give them something at least. Some sort of proof of life so that they didn’t think, I don’t know… like I’d run off to join the circus only to get murdered by Bozo the Clown or something. 

Still I hesitated, my fingers frozen around the phone.

“Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”

Welcoming the distraction (perhaps a bit too eagerly), I looked up to spot two familiar figures in matching uniforms. The security guards from last night were standing out in the food court, addressing Rayne now as she used a chair as makeshift cover to hide from Riku.

“Every second I’ve been married to his ass,” she replied dryly.

“Gotcha!” Riku pounced, eliciting a squeal of delight from her as he scooped her up. I snerked as the mall cops just shook their heads and meandered off.

And these two dorks were going to be parents.

My eyes drifted past them to the Lucky Cat Café and I blinked. The stocky brunet was back and manning the register this time, but more importantly, so was that blonde guy. The one I’d seen working at the Pizza Planet just yesterday. How odd. So then, I guess he was currently working both jobs? Barista by day, pizza boy by night? Did he need the munny that bad? Yeesh, how expensive must his rent be?

Having just handed a customer their drink order with a smile and a wave, he then said something to his coworker before I watched him disappear into the back door. Just as it had clicked shut behind him-

“Ta da!” he sprung up on the other side of the counter directly in front of me, arms raised high over his head, startling a yelp from me and nearly making me drop the phone.

Heart hammering in my chest, my wide eyes darted from where he stood now not three feet away from me, to the door I’d just seen him walk through all the way on the other side of the food court.  Then to him. Then to that door. Then back and forth a few more times.

He’d somehow traversed that large gap in the space of mere nano-seconds.

And had managed to swap his coffee shop uniform for Pizza Planet duds no less!

How did he do that?!

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” he beamed at me, striking up a finger. “How did he do that?”

...woah, he was a mind reader too?

“And there’s only one plausible explanation!” he continued with a cocky wink. “Teleportation!”

“Or maybe you just have a twin, you knucklehead,” another voice said as a hand cuffed the blonde on the back of his head.

… oh. A twin. Right.

That made way more sense than the next stage of human evolution being upon us and super powered mutants now walking amongst the rest of us mere muggles.

What a silly notion. Who would have thought that? Certainly not me.

Nope.

“Man, why you gotta always ruin my fun?” the blonde grumbled as he rubbed the fresh sore spot and scowled at the owner of the palm that had just delivered swift justice to his noggin.

“What can I say, Rox? Your suffering gives me life,” Lea shrugged before turning his gaze on me with a grin and waggling his fingers. “Hi again.”

This was the first appearance he’d made all day. It was a bit of a comfort to see him in his work clothes - a likely sign that he hadn’t gotten fired. I would have felt horrible if last night’s antics had cost him his job. In any case, he’d probably arrived just a few minutes ago and would be starting his shift shortly.

Becoming aware of the fact that my fingers were still absently fiddling with the phone, I quickly pocketed it and cleared my throat. “H-hello… wha-”

“Hiya!” a black haired girl shoved Lea out of the way to lean over the counter and get in my face, blasting me with a huge smile and causing me to stagger back a step. She too was decked out in the Pizza Planet attire. I recognized her from my first day of work. “So happy we finally got to come over here! I’ve been dying to meet you!”

My eyebrows rose. “You have…?”

“You kidding? It’s not just any chick that can make Lea here drop pizza dough on his head! Besides, it’s truly an honor to be in the presence of the record holder. I’m in awe.” 

Further up and up those brows went. “The record?”

“Yeah! I mean, that has to be the fastest anyone’s ever planted one on Lea’s li-”

“Xion!” he hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Zip it!”

The blonde - Rox, was it? - smirked evilly beside them, “Lea’s just glad that Ice Palace finally hired a cute girl and- ow!”

I couldn’t see it, but was pretty sure Lea had just kicked him.

“That’s enough out of you two twerps,” Lea grumbled, stabbing a finger out in the direction of the food court. “Table. Now.”

“Fiiiiiine,” Rox huffed out while Xion just shot me another grin and a wave before the pair of them wandered off to find seats.

“Oi, those two, I swear,” he groaned, rubbing the nape of his neck as he turned back towards me, chuckling softly. “Don’t mind the kiddos. Their teasing’s all aimed at me, not you. They mean well, they can just be a lot sometimes.”

I cocked my head. “The… kiddos?”

“Heh, yup!” Then his spine snapped straight and he winced, rapidly shaking his head and waving his hands back and forth in front of him. “Not that they’re my- No, I’m not a- I’m nowhere near old enough to be their- That is to say, uh… they’re my friends. That’s it, no… familial connection whatsoever.”

“Ah… I see,” I said, feeling a tiny tug at one corner of my lips.

It was nice for once that I wasn’t the one that was spazzing out.

Also nice that the two of us could finally manage to hold a conversation.

Sorta.

...it was still a work in progress.

I looked down, gathering my thoughts to find something to say. I immediately regretted it as my eyes inadvertently landed on his chest, prompting my mind to gleefully run a slideshow of his topless exploits from the night before. Face heating, I snapped my gaze back up to meet his, blurting out, “So they didn’t manage to ab y-” I paled. “Nab, I meant nab! They didn’t manage to nab you last night?”

Scratch that. I’d really love to go back to the whole not talking thing.

“Those couple o’ brick-for-brains? Please,” he brushed off, “they couldn’t catch a sedated sloth dragging a one ton slab of concrete behind it. I coulda outrun them blindfolded and with one leg tied behind my back.” Now there was an image. “Gave them the slip no problem, then had my boss sort it all out with them this morning. We’re in the clear!”

“That’s good to hear,” I gave a small sigh of relief.

Then I just stared at him. 

He stared back.

Yup.

Whoooooole lotta staring.

All of it awkward.

I glanced sideways. “So…”

“Oh! Right. Three bars of the Sea Salt Ice Cream please,” he held up a matching number of fingers while his other hand scratched a spot behind his ear.

“A-absolutely! Coming right up!” Yes! Ice cream! Ice cream I could do! I darted over to the bottom freezers, opening them up and crouching down to look for the stack of light turquoise frozen bars. The cold air felt good on my face and I took this chance to recuperate and collect myself. 

Steady, keep it together, girl. You got this. Just another minute more and you’ll be through this social interaction and on the other side. And it should only get easier from here on out, right? ...right? And hey, look on the bright side. This wasn’t going all that bad. So far you’ve gotten through this with little to no mishaps. Sure, there was that one teeny “ab” slip up, but he didn’t even notice… I think. You can do this. You’re doing fine. You haven’t even thought of the Kissident once the entire time he’s been here!

...aaaaaaaaand now you’re thinking about it.

Great. Thanks a lot, brain.

Grabbing the three plastic-wrapped Sea Salts, I slammed the door shut and made my way back towards the register with determination and resolve.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

No more slip ups. Don’t you do it. Don’t you say it. Don’t you dare.

I rang him up before looking back up at Lea as I offered him the bars. “Will that be all? Could I interest you in anything else-” 

Don’t say “kiss,” don’t say “kiss,” don’t say “kiss.” 

“-like a cone of the Milky Way? Rockin’ Crunch? Vanilla Lips- Glitz!” My eyes screwed shut. “Vanilla… Vanilla Glitz? Or any of our other fine flavors?”

Well… at least I hadn’t said “kiss” anyway.

He smiled. Oh gosh, he had dimples. “Nope! Just those, thanks.” He paid for his purchase and took the ice cream. With a nod, he turned to go but then hesitated, glancing back down at me. “Listen, that pair of clowns I call friends just went on lunch and I’m not on the clock for another thirty minutes. We’ll be at that table over there,” he crooked his head towards where Xion and Rox now sat chatting over their trays of food. “If you can take a break, you should come hang out with us.” 

I blinked once. Then twice. Then pointed a finger at myself. “...me?”

He was asking me? To join them?

Lea snorted. “Yeah, you. And if you’re worried, don’t be. The kiddos have had all their rabies shots. Just think about it, kay?” He lightly rapped a knuckle against the countertop before walking off with a wave. “Hope to be seeing ya!” 

I watched him approach the other two, giving the back of Rox’s seat a swift kick before easily dodging the swipe Rox threw back at him. Then he mussed up Xion’s hair as he tossed the ice cream bars into the center of the table and spun an empty chair around so he could sit in it backwards. I watched his mouth move as he told them something before they all burst into laughter.

They seemed nice. And they’d invited me to sit with them.

...wow, that’d sounded so high school.

Which, by the way, was something I’d never been good at, surprise surprise. And I wasn’t talking about the academic part of it, no, that’d been fine. But when it came to all those cliques and that whole popularity contest and just in general trying to fit it? Yeah, no. That hadn’t been for me. At lunch times, I’d only ever sat with my ex and his friends, and even then only because it was what was expected of me. His buddies had only ever ignored me anyway. If it’d been up to me, I never would have sat with anyone at all. Risk someone actually trying to start a conversation with me? Nu uh. Too scary. Left to my own devices, I probably would have just secured a table all to myself and built a fort out of trays to hide in and shut out the rest of the world.

Needless to say, the thought of joining Lea and his friends? Frigging terrified me.

Which is why it wasn’t going to happen.

Thanks, but no thanks!

I’ll just keep chilling over here inside Ice Palace, aka my beloved Fortress of Solitude. Or rather… Fortress of Almost Solitude, since Kristoff was still around. But you’d hardly even know he was there. He was just off in a corner, still contentedly making his way through those taste spoons.

But as I looked back to that happy trio out there, I frowned. Something was nagging me. Needling at the back of my mind.

Took me a second to realize that it was Rayne’s words from earlier.

That I needed to get out of my comfort zone. That I had to put myself out there and try new things. That I should put effort into making some friends. 

The effort in this case being something so simple as sitting at a table.

One tiny act that seemed so insignificant and yet so intimidating at the same time.

I watched them for a few minutes more. Then I looked to the clock hanging on the wall. I was due for my own lunch break.

...oh god, was I really going to do this?

Another heartbeat of indecision. Then I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders, marched into the back room to grab my paper bag lunch before exiting into the food court, heading straight for their table.

Apparently yes. I was really doing this.

Operation Make Friends was a go.

Courage don’t fail me now.

...pretty please? 

Author's note: Will Elsa ever call this mysterious "them"? How will Elsa's next thrilling adventure in human interaction go? Will Operation Make Friends be an amazing, glorious success or end in epic, tragic failure? Will Kristoff get a terrible tummy ache from eating all those lil ice cream samples? Stay tuned for the answers to all those questions and more! (Except for that last question... some things were just meant to always remain a mystery...)

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to my new followers, as well as to those of you who hit that like button on the last chapter, seeing that always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[mundeign]

something stupid

word count: 2.9k

setting: old philippines, early 1900s

based on this song | photos: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

!! note: poorly researched setting and information, characters and some places are fiction, contains some filipino words, and i haven’t written in a long time

+

“Oh my, I’m sorry, but I’m not much for dancing,” Amaya says, declining the handsome young man’s offer to have a moment with her on the floor, which breaks her heart quite a bit. Some feelings might have emerged for this fine gentleman since the very day they met, which she would never admit though she has been dying to know what it would feel like to hold his hand ever since.

However, she thought that not dancing with him tonight would save her from making a fool out herself. Ever since they were school kids, she noticed that Felix’s exuberance and quick-wit have been challenging to catch up on. And she often enjoys every single second of it trying, but she did not want to sound unintelligent that night for she was wearing an elegantly lavish garment from cloth that her Papa had bought overseas.

“I really am sorry, Felix. Some other time, maybe?” She suggests. Oh, but she wanted to dance with him. Yet, she was afraid she would run out of smart things to say. She loves how articulate he is, especially when he would talk about his interests, such as Bosch, his favorite artist. She took note of how he thought the artist was ever so brilliant for “depicting fantastical creatures that were so out of the ordinary,” he said. And she was quite embarrassed for she has never heard of a Bosch or ever seen any of his works.

So she asked her Papa to buy her oil paint and charcoal one supper, but he told her that he was too busy and that it was too much of a hassle to get them because they would have to sail to España, he said. When she pointed out that Felix’s father bought his in Maynila, she was told that it was inappropriate for her to talk back and that she should instead learn how to sew as it was easier and fit for her delicate hands. She thought that sewing was not easy at all. She would always prick her fingers. And she was absolutely vexed, she could not stand the sight of him.

Without telling Papa, she had decided to come up with a plan involving sneaking out the mansion with some of her necklaces. Of course, Adonis, one of her brothers, saw her go to the trading shop near the school where he was attending, which was actually in the neighboring town. He did promise not to tell on her. However, he warned her that Papa would be ruthless when it comes to discipline. She was reminded of the many times when Adonis disobeyed Papa when they were younger. Papa would even compare him with the young Amaya because though she was a year younger, he felt she was far more mature than Adonis.

Although she was aware that she was adored and cherished as the única hija in the family of four sons, Amaya also knows that the family name is far too important for her to tarnish with whatever “foolery” that she was up to. She had thought about it carefully.

But she assured Adonis (and more herself) that nothing was to happen to her, saying she’s much smarter than she looks. Then asked him if he would be kind enough to buy her first commission, which he thought was funny as he joked that she was precisely like Papa.

And she is. She takes pride in being her Papa’s child—ambitious and determined and will do all means to get what she wants. As she prepared herself to create her first piece, Amaya read and asked about other artists around town, tried to educate herself as much as possible, and started discovering and practicing her niche. However, she thought that impressing someone who might never see her the way she wants to be seen, is a difficult commission.

And though she has come to love and appreciate all that she has learned, she feels that starting a conversation with Felix now, might end up stuttering or not making sense at all. She is not one to fancy humiliation.

“Ah, but you don’t have to fret too much. I have two left feet! And I am very sure that no one would notice if a lovely looking maiden like you would be around to dance with me. Come on now.” He persuades her, grabbing her right arm and pulling her to the middle of the room, knowing that she could never say no to him.

She flinches a little when he touched her, but relaxes when he grins at her. She felt as if though her entire body was on fire. And she thought she would not care at all if she got burnt, like Nanay Elena’s burnt empanadas during merienda, as long as the spark that ignites the fire would be his touch.

“How have you been, Maya?” He quietly asks as he guides her. She looks down at their feet, moving left to the right and forward and backward, trying not to step on him.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time.” She mumbles, still looking down, thinking that if she looks up at his eyes, her ribs will crack from how hard her heart is beating just looking at him.

“It has been a long time, I know.” He agrees, trying to catch her eyes, but she’s quite stiff. Although she had wondered many sleepless nights what it would feel like to have his arms around her, she did not want to acknowledge the actuality of her missing him and that yearning that she felt for the past four years that he has been away to Intramuros.

When the Toledo family visited the town of Pinsel, everyone was elated, knowing that Señor Josef Toledo is an eminent artist known to have worked for many families of the principalía in Luzon, España, and Pransiya. Don Salvador Tanghal, Amaya’s Papa, was the one who invited the artist over one afternoon to have his portrait painted. And to catch up on as they were old friends, who Don Salvador said was once a rival for a maiden but ended up being his best mate as they both mope over the fact that neither of them was chosen.

Every time she looked back at the first time they met, she can’t quite point out why these emerging feelings came to be, and it made her restless. That afternoon the Toledos knocked on their door, Amaya found herself charmed by the little boy beside the artist, who was holding a bag that looked heavier than he was over his shoulder. With Señor Josef was his son, Felix, who came along to observe as part of his training to be an artist like his father.

She remembers being intrigued that the ten-year-old boy begged his Tatay Josef to let him come to work with him when she and her brothers were always sent out to play outside whenever their Papa was working. Maybe it was the way his eyes would light up whenever she would ask about his Tatay or the way he would fascinate her with his vast interests in arts, but maybe it was mostly the way he would encourage her to talk about anything, and he would listen. 

“Well, I have been keeping myself busy.” She says, contemplating whether she should open up about her readings and interpretations of Gentileschi’s works, which she found ghastly but engrossing at the same time.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She decides not to talk about Gentileschi. She was not even sure if she has enough knowledge to even have her own interpretations.

“That’s lovely. May I know what’s keeping this little bird busy?”

“I’ve been painting actually.”

“Oh?”

And they were silent for a while before Felix pulls her closer to him. As she tries to concentrate on their steps, she could not help but smile at this strange yet mellow tingling feeling when she felt his hand move.

However, she notices the scowling eyes of the other ladies, specifically Melchor and Angela, making her uncomfortable as if their glares were burning her skin.

Although it is flattering that he would ask her to spend time with him, she was quite aware that she is the fourth girl he had offered a dance to. She was also well aware that Felix Toledo had always had his way with girls even when they were school kids. 

Amaya remembers how every time the Toledos would visit their little town, her girlfriends would always run to the Tanghals and ask about the fascinating young man. They would ask questions that she would not even dare ask the boy, which made some of the girls agitated, accusing Amaya of keeping him all for herself. And of course, it was true. She wanted to be the only one who knew him, but she often denied these allegations except to the portrait of her mother hanging in front of the dining table.

“Have you missed me?” Felix suddenly asks out of the blue. When the question left his lips, she looks up swiftly. He studies her face and chuckles at her flushing cheeks, which causes her to scoff at this man’s self-regard.

“Of course, I did. But I would never tell anyone.” She answers eventually.

“Oh?” She laughs a little at him as she playfully hits his arm.

“Well, I have missed you, and I’ve been telling everyone.” He teases. She turns her head back to face him as she freezes when he looks into her eyes with a well-pleased smile, knowing his words would wind her up in knots. She takes a deep breath before giving him a sardonic smile.

“Excuse me.” She says, then she lets go of his hand.

“How maddening he is.” She mumbles to herself as she walks off to the back door and out to the garden. She should not have walked away like that, she thought. However, she knew she could not handle their judging eyes as well as her ever so growing feelings for Felix.

She takes a deep breath before letting out a loud sigh. Walking around the oval, she tries to shake off the heavy feeling in her chest that she noticed only happens whenever she would think of him in a way she could never think of herself with other suitors. Back then, she would deny these feelings to herself. She would refuse to succumb to the ever confusing plight of being in love, thinking it was more of a predicament than a state of happiness.

Staring at the pond, she looks back at when seventeen-year-old Aurelio, the eldest Tanghal, came home from college a year earlier than expected. The rain was pouring hard when Adonis opened the door to be greeted by his brother with clothes soaked and tired eyes. And with him was a lovely maiden who introduced herself as Carmelita. Amaya recalls how Aurelio knelt on his knees with this frustrated look on his face, begging Papa to let him make the young maiden his wife. However, Papa was very much against it as Carmelita was just a gardener’s daughter, saying she only wanted their wealth.

And at that time, Amaya was so sure that Aurelio’s love was genuine, and she wanted that for herself. She wished on every star and prayed to the deep skies. However, the Tanghals realized soon that Aurelio’s love may be genuine, but he was blinded. No one could deny that Carmelita was beautiful, and Amaya does not blame her for using that beauty to her advantage. But she thought that his brother was kind and pure, and did not deserve the broken heart she had left him. They found out that Carmelita was seeing other men, and none of them except Don Salvador knew what happened next.

Amaya tried not to think much of what had happened, but she remembers looking at her mother’s portrait with tears in her eyes, asking the picture to protect dear Aurelio. And she wished on every star and prayed to the deep skies, that she may never fall in love.

“What are you thinking about, Maya?” Felix takes a step back when Amaya turns to face him with a doleful expression on her face.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She whispers as she looks back at the pond.

“I’m sorry, Maya, if I said something to upset you. I was just teasing.” He says.

And they were silent for a while before Felix walks closer to her. They could hear the music playing from inside the mansion. They could hear the chatter and the laughter and the clinking of wine glasses. They could even hear the insects chirping and the wind blowing against their skin. But all Amaya could listen to is her uneven breaths and how her heartbeat keeps knocking on her chest.

“I love you.”

Felix suddenly looks at her, dumbfounded at what the maiden beside him has said. And she, with shaky hands, stares back at the lake, trying to memorize the direction of the wind and how it pushes the pond’s little waves. She thought the moon looked especially mesmerizing in the water.

“Amaya,” Felix calls out to which she reacts. He never calls her Amaya.

“What do you mean by—“

“I love you, Felix.” She repeats, this time, she is looking at his eyes. At the moment, she is glad that she isn’t melting like she thought she would.

He tries to say something, but whenever he would open his mouth, he would close it right away. So he thinks for a moment as Amaya takes in every feature of his face in this light. She feels lighter, she thought, now that what she felt for the young Toledo boy was said aloud.

“You cannot say that, Amaya.” She wants to tell him that she did not like the way her name sounded. She wants him to call her Maya like he always would.

“Why not?”

“You just can’t!” When these words left his lips, Amaya was startled as she has never seen him like this. She watches him as he scratches the back of his neck then sighing.

“You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do.” She says after a few moments of him pacing back and forth.

“And so what? What if I feel this way for someone? And so what if it’s for you?”

“Why?!”

“Why?! Punyeta, Felix! I don’t know! Is it so bad, huh, that I am in love with you? I know that I am sure with what my heart is telling me and that it couldn’t help but want to tell you too. I have loved you ever since you painted me the sky.” She says the last words a little quieter.

Every time she would look back at the first time they met, she can’t quite point out the reason as to how these emerging feelings came to be, and it made her restless. Maybe it was the way his eyes would light up or the way he would fascinate her, but perhaps it was mostly how he would encourage her to talk about anything, and he would listen.

And as he listened to the little girl, he painted her the sky, and she remembers staring at it and crying, knowing that this is the sky where her mother would be. Felix remembers smiling at her and pointing at the bird on the branch at the side of the painting.

“Little Maya.” He mumbles.

“But you can’t love me, little bird.” He says before distancing himself from Amaya.

“Why not?” She asks again. He studies her face for a little while before speaking.

“I’ll be leaving again soon,” Felix pauses as he holds her cheek with a weak smile.

“I’m to be married.”

As soon as he announced it, Amaya slaps his hand off of her face. She looks at him with such hurt and such confusion that what he said to her made him upset too.

“I’ll be off to Maynila again to meet with her family and to arrange the wedding.”

She could not speak. All she could do is look at the pond, wishing it was the sea so she could just walk in the middle and float off anywhere but here.

“Her name is Nieves Macario. She loves to sew and dance.”

“Did I ask for her name?” Amaya snaps.

“Oh, I just thought you should know.”

And they were silent for a while before Amaya turns around, her back facing the pond. She looks at the window where the dining room is, where her mother is. And Felix, wondering what to do, stares at her. He did notice her elegantly lavish garment and thought she looked lovely. He did notice the way she wouldn’t look at him in the eyes and thought it was cute. And he had noticed every single thing about her ever since.

“Do you love her?” She asks, still looking at that window, wishing that if she walks into that room, her mother would embrace her and tell her that everything will be alright.

“Of course, why would I ask her hand in marriage if I did not?” And with that, Amaya calmly excuses herself to Felix and walks back to the mansion, so gracefully that Felix was worried as he knew that she only acts so stiff to guard herself.

He watches her walk away and could not do anything. He did not do anything. He just watched her. And as soon as she was out of his sight, he turns to face the little waves of the pond and tries to forget that he hurt his little Maya.

[syao]

Natsukashii

Pairing: Neji x Tenten Read Time: 23 mins. A/N: I turn a year older this week, so I thought I'd celebrate with my favorite Naruto couple set in a similar but much happier universe. I blame old age for my mushy escapism. :D

"Three… four…" Hyuuga Neji paused slightly when he heard a sound that seemed off from the expected flutter of wings. It was a sound of bouncy, light footsteps—a child's, he decided—approaching him at three o'clock position.

Soon enough, he heard a high-pitched "Uncle Nejiiiii!" shatter the forest's stillness, sending the frightened flock of birds away.

He let out a sigh before fixing the sternest expression he could muster. It was a role only he in the whole Hyuuga clan could play convincingly: that of an unimpressed, unflappable bad cop to the good cops that were the rest of his relatives.

"Himawari-sama, what did I tell you about heading to the forest on your own?" he rattled off before his ever-sunny niece could leap into his arms.

She freely did so anyway, and pounced on him like a kitten wrestling its favorite toy on the ground. He had no choice but to drop his walking cane just so he could cushion her tiny body with both hands.

(But for the record, the suspicious twitching on his mouth absolutely did NOT mean that he approved of this rambunctious, unladylike behavior.)

"Well, Himawari-sama?" he pressed, not willing to let her off easily.

"Um… to never, ever do it until I graduate from the Academy?" She looked up at him, eyes wide in innocence.

"That is correct." He coolly eyed her up and down— the miniature mishmash of genes of Konoha's most powerful and most elite. "And that is set to happen only five years from now. So, pray tell, why are you here in the forest on your own?" He could not sense the aura of either of the child's parents nearby.

"The twin bun lady!" cried his little niece breathlessly, cheeks flushed. "Uncle Neji, the twin bun lady in the picture came back!"

The picture Himawari was referring to was that of Team Gai during their genin days. Maito Gai beaming at the camera while proudly clasping both of his boys on each shoulder. Rock Lee reluctantly taking a break from his daily 25-kilometer warm-up run long enough to get a photo with his beloved team. Him looking at the photographer with an expression that says, "Get this over quickly. I have an unfettered sighting of your most critical chakra points, you know."

And the only rose among the thorns. But boy, was it a thorny rose. The bright and high-spirited Tenten, both hands pumped, as she gave a gaping, open-mouthed smile for the camera, uncaring of the photographer's pleading to 'act like a girl more'.

He recalled how Tenten's almond brown eyes flared up when she first heard the photographer's appeal for more feminine restraint.

"You're a guy! Why would you know more about how to act like a girl than I do?! Now watch me do a wrestler victory pose! Harrrr!"

And he, who till that moment had rarely taken an interest of other people outside his clan, couldn't help but silently follow the exchange. Until that moment, all the girls he knew bowed their heads and smiled and followed whatever the adults tell them to do.

But not this girl.

And as years passed, he would come to learn that she was actually different from most other people, too— men and women alike, as she would forcefully insist whenever less-discerning folks would try to look down on her elite shinobi skills.

It had been two decades since that picture was taken. And until now, it was the only photo decorating his spartan-like room. It was probably for that same reason that his little niece had taken a world of interest at the spunky girl who seemed to not be much older than her in that picture.

"She looks strong! Is she really strong, Uncle Neji?"

"No one in Konoha can beat her long-range precision," he would honestly answer. "And no one can surpass her knowledge of weaponry and tools."

"Is she brave, Uncle Neji?"

"Extraordinarily so."

"She has twin buns for her hair, too! So cute! Don't you think so, too, Uncle Neji?"

"I… y-yes."

"Then you should marry her— oh no, Uncle Neji! Why did you blow hot tea out of your nose? Grandpa, Grandpa! Look at the neat trick Uncle Neji showed me! Nose fountains!"

Himawari's palm waved up and down his face, sparing him from a further embarrassing walk down the memory lane. "So… let's go see her?"

"H-Huh?"

"The twin bun lady. Let's go see her!" She effortlessly untangled herself from his hold, handed him back his cane, and proceeded to pull his hand towards the direction of the forest edge.

Like a puppy sheepishly trailing its owner, he clumsily followed her lead. "Are you certain it is her? She hasn't been in town for many years."

The little girl let out a distinct sigh of impatience not many would try with the great Hyuuga prodigy. "I know what I saw, Uncle Neji! Mama and I were bringing Papa's lunch to the office when we saw her chatting with Papa and Uncle Shikamaru." Her free hand grabbed the protruding upper tuft of her hair into a makeshift pigtail. "Her brown hair's on braided twin buns. She was wearing tassel earrings and a long, pretty white dress…"

Against his better judgment, he found himself greedily taking in the descriptions as his mind weaved together an image of his niece's alleged twin buns lady.

"...and she was talking about the weapons on the table so happily!"

Bingo. It was her. He didn't know anyone else who had the capacity to talk about weaponry with the pride and affection a mother held for her firstborn.

"What was her name again?" Little wrinkles of concentration formed on the child's face. "Mama already said it when she greeted her. It's like a repeated syllable, um…"

"Tenten. Her name is Tenten," he finally answered, to the little girl's delight.

"Yes, yes, Tenten! That's twin bun lady!"

"I may have ruined things for us forever, but doing this… don't you think this is a bit too much, Neji? Don't you think this is a bit too cruel?"

The memory of her words halted him in his tracks, startling Himawari who until then found ease in making her grown uncle do as she pleased. She turned to him, puzzled. "What's wrong, Uncle Neji? Is your back bothering you again?"

"I… should probably greet her tomorrow instead," he finished lamely, avoiding her curious gaze. "I do need to rest as well."

Himawari looked slightly disappointed, but her concern for her favorite uncle won over. "Okay. I'll walk you home, Uncle Neji." She marched by his side, as if guarding his unreliable hips from giving out beneath him.

"Thank you, Himawari. We'll come see her tomorrow instead." Neji made a mental note to give Rock Lee a ring so he and his son could accompany them. He knew the father-and-son' tandem's outrageously high-level energy would make things less awkward for him and his former teammate.

"I'm sure Tenten must be in bed right now and resting, too."

"Yep, with him."

His neck whipped hard towards his niece. "HIM?! Him, who?!"

"Oh, you know. The short man with black hair that makes him look like whole garlic head? Wears red glasses? He was with her when she paid Papa a visit and they're going to stay together in her old apartment…" Himawari's voice trailed off when she saw her uncle frown worriedly, as if not liking what he just heard. "What's wrong, Uncle Neji?"

"It's nothing." But her uncle was wearing a rare troubled look on his handsome face. "If you will excuse me, Himawari-sama. I need to speak to your father."

Wow, I guess Uncle's injuries aren't bothering him as much as before, thought the little girl as she watched her uncle briskly make his way towards the village center.

Read the rest on ff.n

[poisonappletales]

Love Hotel Mystery - Testimonies I

(Note: If you’re totally lost, start from here!)

[When Ambrosia and Wind arrive in room 402, Arsenik turns to smile at them.]

“I’m glad you could make it, Miss Ambrosia...” [He glances at Wind and adds politely:] “Imugi.”

[sarcastically] “Overjoyed to see you, too.”

“Good afternoon, Sir Arsenik...” [She gives a bow.] “...Sir Onyx.”“

“You are mistaken, Arsenik of the Hulder. Night is not the culprit.”

“That’s what he told you?”

“If you doubt him, you may begin the questioning.”

“I fully intend to do so.”  [He looks back at Ambrosia.] “I’m sure you have questions for him as well, Miss Ambrosia.”

“I would only like to know his reasons for taking me and acting as he did with Sir Chase.”

“I don’t know what the point of all this is. We might as well kill him.”

“He’s a member of the ruling clan, Imugi. He won’t be executed without a proper trial, which is only fair. I’m sure even you knew that much.”

[He smiles at Ambrosia.] “I’ll be sure to ask him that. That is, assuming he’s forthcoming enough.”

[Not to mention, he wasn’t entirely convinced of Night’s guilt. He thinks of telling Ambrosia that but decides against it. She didn’t need any other concern burdening her mind.

His gaze lingers on Ambrosia for a moment longer before he turns to face Night, who sits on the opposite end of the table.]

“Here’s my first question for you. I believe I already know how you will answer, but I would like to hear this straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

Night’s Testimony

“Do you confess to the capture of Miss Ambrosia?”

“No. I only came here to help her in case Unknown took things too far.”

“Anonymous had an interesting question for you.”

“Anonymous?”

“Anonymous indeed.”

“Care to answer the question?”

“I’m not playing any game. I haven’t seen Chase, and I haven’t done anything to Ambrosia. As I said.”

“In that case, you mind telling me what you’ve been doing after you left the hotel until now? @ashes-pheonix​ specifically phrased it this way.”

“Everyone really is watching us, aren’t they? Since this person is addressing me with a ‘sir’...a member of the Phoenix?”

“Well, this individual is known as @ashes-pheonix​.”

“Stop wasting time. This trial is a joke.”

[smiling] “Oh, Sir Wind...I’m glad we’re holding one. If this is some kind of misunderstanding, I would like to resolve it peacefully.”

“Tch. Don’t let him fool you.”

“Night of the Vi, your whereabouts?”

“Let’s see...well, after I left all of you yesterday, I went to the bar next door. This was one of the first times I’ve been to one, but Unknown told me enough about it.

It also helped there was a familiar face there - Wildfire.”

“Miss Wildfire from the clan of the Valkyrie.”

“That’s right.

I had maybe half a drink with her before she started a fight with someone. I think she didn’t like how some man was looking at her. She was having fun beating him up, so I decided to step out and have a walk.”

“How long would you say that you stayed at the bar?”

“Hmm...5-10 minutes? Probably less. It really wasn’t very long.”

[5-10 minutes or less. Around that time, he and Ambrosia were likely walking through the hallways. Perhaps, it was even while they spoke with the king and Bo-Peep.

In other words, Night still had time to return to the hotel and perform the kidnapping. Not only that but Arsenik had to verify whether his story was actually accurate.]

“And then, you said you went for a walk.”

“That’s right. I didn’t really have a set destination.”

“I don’t suppose you can recall all the places you passed by or visited?”

“Hmm...I’m sure I passed by a restaurant, a bookstore, a park, a café , many stores - I really wasn’t trying to memorize the layout. I may be able to walk you through it.”

“Did you talk to anyone or see anything that stood out to you?”

“Not really, no.”

“And you did this for how long?”

“All night.

When the sun started to rise, I went to take a nap on one of the park benches. I woke up some time before midday and headed back to the hotel to eat. That’s when I saw Unknown and then you, accusing me of kidnapping someone.”

“You went walking all night. Really staying true to your name, aren’t you?”

“A lot of interesting things to see in this city.”

[He had a feeling that Night wasn’t revealing everything he did that evening, but he would let it go for now.]

“I’m curious why you chose to sleep on a park bench. You could have returned to the hotel and used one of the beds.”

“I could have. But the bench happened to be there, so I thought, ‘Why not?’”

[That meant Night was either at the park or nearby.]

“Right.”

“Are you going to ask me what I was planning to eat back at the hotel?”

“I was more so wondering why you wanted to eat at the hotel but by all means. Tell me what you were craving.”

“You won’t believe me.”

[with a smile] “Try me.”

“I hadn’t the slightest idea. I was planning to see when I came here.

I’ve never eaten at a love hotel before, and I thought I’d see if someone like Unknown would want to come with me. And that’s why I came back to the love hotel.”

“You seem to be on surprisingly good terms with Unknown.”

“I don’t really have anything against anybody. If I saw you there, I’d ask if you wanted to join me, too.

Can I ask you something?”

“Feel free.”

“Why do you think it’s me? What makes you think I captured Ambrosia and did something to Chase?”

“Let’s just say there was an eyewitness who points the finger at you.”

“I see that alleged eyewitness isn’t here. Since he isn’t present, I would like to question Ambrosia of the Phoenix.”

“Ah...certainly.” [She gives an acquiescing bow and steps up beside Arsenik with a smile.] “Please ask me what you will, Sir Onyx.”

Ambrosia’s Testimony

“Anonymous put it this way, but I strongly recommend that you answer to the best of your ability. My goal is to apprehend the true culprit.”

“Yes, Sir Onyx. I only intend to speak the truth.”

“Describe everything you saw when you last awoke.”

“When I last awoke...you mean when Sir Viktor found me?

When I came to, I was in his arms. He was gently shaking me awake, and he explained to me what was happening. He urged me to hurry back to the love hotel. I believe he was worried about Lady Kara...”

“Did you wake up before Viktor of the Hulder claims to have found you?”

[nodding] “I did. I remember hearing someone calling my name, and I saw the face of a...yes, the face of an owl.

I was very puzzled by it at first, but I couldn’t think very clearly. Then, I saw horses - a horse looming behind him. I think the horse was holding something long and big, like a pole or a pipe. Forgive me, it was rather dark, so I can’t be entirely sure.

The horse struck the owl with this object, and the owl fell across my legs, I think. After that, I...I think the horse came towards me. I felt something fuzzy pressed against my mouth, and I fell back asleep.”

“You speak with a lot of uncertainty. Describe your mental state at the time.”

“It was almost like being addled with a fever. I was so overcome with exhaustion that I could scarcely keep my eyes open! Truth be told, I was a little disoriented.

For a while, I was seeing double, which was rather frightening since it made me fear there were two horses trying to strike the owl! But I only heard one crack, so I knew I was seeing things.”

“Given your state, temporary double vision isn’t uncommon. From what Arsenik of the Hulder tells me, your slumber was likely induced by a herb or drug.”

“I see. But, um...I’m afraid I wasn’t able to inspect Sir Chase. The next time I awoke, I was only with Sir Viktor.”

“You already testified that you’re unaware of Chase of the Trold’s current whereabouts.”

“Yes, but I’m sure Sir Viktor would know. He assured me that while Sir Chase was knocked unconscious, he wasn’t in any danger. I took his word for it, but I would like to see him.

Even if it isn’t life-threatening, I would like to take care of any bruises or cuts he has.”

“Then, you didn’t hear Chase of the Trold’s alleged confession.”

“No...it almost sounds like you doubt there was one given.”

[Setting a gauntleted hand on the table, he leans down towards her and lowers his voice to a hollow whisper. He passes on the advice given to him by @ashes-pheonix​.]

“Don’t trust Viktor of the Hulder.”

“Eh?”

[He removes his hand from the table and returns to his full height.]

“Tell us anything else important that we should know about your captors and your situation.”

[She is silent as she takes a moment to think about it.]

“When the owl spoke, I’m sure it was a man. It was muffled by that...that mask, so I couldn’t recognize it immediately. But it sounded male.

Both he and the horse were taller than I was.”

“Your regular standing height is 5′2′’  - nearly an inch below 5′3′’. Do you have any idea how much taller they were from you?”

“The owl was bent over me, so I can’t be entirely sure with him. But the horse was at least a head and a half taller than me, I think? It could be more.

It was dark and the person was wearing a black cloak, so it sort of merged with the shadows. The horse’s head might have added to their height, too...”

“Those are all the questions I want to ask for now. If you have anything to ask, Arsenik of the Hulder, speak now.”

“First...” [A smile brightens his face.] “Tell me how you’re feeling, Miss Ambrosia.”

“I’m feeling fine, thank you. I hope you’re all right as well, Sir Arsenik. You’re looking a bit tired...”

“Do I? I feel fine.”

[Wind groans at the conversational pace of their exchange.]

“Please don’t worry about it, Miss Ambrosia. That’s the only question I wanted to ask you.”

[Publicly and in front of the Vi’s war chief, at least.]

“I actually wanted to ask you something next, Imugi.”

“Spit it out.”

Wind’s Testimony

“I’ve been wanting to hear your answer to this as well. What did you notice at the park, Imugi?

Please tell me you weren’t confused by the dogs and their walkers like I first joked.”

“Right. That joke’s growing old.

Other than that suspicious girl and the one who told us she wasn’t to be trusted...there were three other scents.”

[with a nod] “Go on.”

“Night and Unknown.”

[Something like frustration wrinkles his brow.]

“Night did say he walked around there, so that could lend itself to two different interpretations.

You look like a chipmunk trying to crack a particularly hard acorn.”

[He scoffs. His voice drips with dry sarcasm.] “Very funny.”

“Is there something wrong or were you that disgusted by their scents?”

“Trust me, yours was worse.

Unknown’s scent was weird. I don’t know how to describe it. Not as strong, I guess.”

“It was muted? As if it had been a while since Unknown was there, he only briefly passed by or...?”

[He shrugs.] “I guess it’s one of those things.”

[Arsenik could recall the scent of grass clinging to Unknown’s blanket. This confirmed that he had been to the park, at least briefly. If he understood what Wind was telling him, Unknown had been there a long while before Night.]

“You mentioned a third scent.”

“I told you.

It was you, the Hulder cockroach standin’ right next to me and taking up my space.”

[smiling] “Yes, that was a very important detail to point out for everyone.”

“You asked.”

“More information is required. Chase of the Trold and Unknown must be questioned.”

“Sir Viktor should know where to find Sir Chase. As for Sir Unknown...we were searching for him.”

[At Arsenik’s inquisitive tilt of the head:] “He took that suspicious girl’s phone and security tape or something like that.”

“And it sounds like he passed by the park where a lot of shady schemes were taking place as well. He either saw something or knows more than he’s letting on.”

“I’ll track him down.” [He slips out of the room.]

[She reaches out towards the place where he last stood.] “Oh no, Sir Wind...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause any more chaos.” [He begins to head out of the room.] “Hopefully, I won’t have to burn anything this time, Miss Ambrosia.

Please see to her safety, war chief.”

“That is my duty.”

[As Arsenik leaves, Ambrosia can only muster a half-smile at his jest.

It seemed like Unknown was causing a great deal of trouble. However, she wasn’t content to wait when she knew how to find him.

With her telepathic powers, she connected with Unknown’s mind and projected her thoughts for his hearing alone.]

“Sir Unknown, let’s have tea.”

“Hm? Well, hello, darling. You want to have tea? How about some cake, too? But I’m a little busy right now...how about we have dinner at 8?”

[If they waited that long, who knew what he would do with Lady Livi’s belongings in the meantime? More importantly, she was worried about how Wind would approach him...]

“That’s too late, dear. I was hoping to see you in the room you reserved for us alone.”

[It sounds as though he is grinning.] “Do you now?”

“I went through a very trying day. It would be nice if you would make things a little easier for me.”

“By returning the kitten’s things, I take it? Or by coming to tell you what I know?”

[She didn’t see him anywhere around for the trial. Did he expect this would happen and that they would need his testimony?]

“Clever man. If you cooperate with me, I’ll reward you nicely.”

“Haha! It doesn’t work that way, love. If you listen to me, I’ll reward you beautifully.”

“It sounds like you want something.”

[One can clearly hear the smile in his voice.]

“Do you want to play a game, my petite oiseau?”

[There was really only one answer she could give.]

“Promise me you’ll return Lady Livi’s belongings and that you’ll cooperate, and I will.

Come. I’ll play your game, Sir Unknown.”

[katie-dub]

#FrostJones

Ice dancing duo Killian Jones and Elsa Frost barely made the cut for the PyeongChang Olympics after a disaster at the World Championships that left them without a coach. Enter Emma 'The Saviour' Swan, their new coach who might just help to add a little magic to their routines.

AKA a Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir AU, with a twist.

The wonderful @welllpthisishappening Master of the Sports AU told me that she had a prompt for a Virtue and Moir AU and I had the thought "shame they're just great friends". Somehow this idea was born and Laura and @distant-rose told me to "WRITE THE THING" and here we are. Thanks ladies for enabling me and giving this a once over. All mistakes are very much mine.

#FrostJones

A Song of Fire and Ice: The bumpy road to PyeongChang for America's ice dancing duo Frost and Jones

Eyebrows were raised when fiery Killian Jones, who missed out on the Sochi Olympics due to the infamous attack that left his former partner (both on and off the ice) dead and his hand gravely wounded, teamed up with solo figure skating champion Elsa Frost, whose icy characterisation and flawless technique earned her the title of Ice Queen. The unlikely pairing narrowly qualified for the Olympics after a disastrous performance at the 2017 World Championships left them with barely enough points to make the cut. That event also saw them part ways with their coach, Leroy "Grumpy" Short, following a rumoured face off between him and Jones. With less than a year to go to get medal-ready, in stepped Emma "The Saviour" Swan, who has a reputation for rejuvenating the careers of failing figure skaters. Here's hoping The Saviour has worked her magic on Team USA's ice dance duo, who are merely hoping for a place on the podium, while Virtue and Moir...

Killian flung aside the newspaper, scowling. He really didn't need to read more about the bloody Canadians who were certain to beat them to the gold, not least of all in a piece that was meant to be about his "road to the Olympics".

Elsa raised her eyebrows at him. "Why are you even reading that, Jones? Given that Regina had to issue actual threats to get you to talk to that journalist I'd have thought you'd want to avoid it."

He sighed and dragged his hand across his face wearily. "Yeah, I bloody well should have.”

He had known the piece would be like this, that it would hurt to read, but the events leading up to the last Olympics caused a wound that wouldn't heal. (Or hadn't, until her, The Saviour, his saviour.)

It was their final rehearsal before they at last took to the rink to compete for Team GB. They had knocked it out of the park, scored a touchdown and a variety of other sporting metaphors. He spun Milah around in delight, kissing her passionately. He'd always known they were contenders, but now he was sure that gold medal was theirs. Tessa and Scott couldn't touch their chemistry - they were so beloved that it seemed the whole world was #Team Millian, regardless of nationality.

Then came the blow to his head that sent him crashing to the ice and his whole world along with it. When he awoke everything had changed: Milah was dead. His left hand damaged. Gold, their former coach and her ex, walked free without so much as a slap on the wrist from the Olympics Committee.

So he ran away, defected to the states, determined to get one over on the country that failed him.

And now that time had come.

Well, tomorrow it would, for now he had to rest.

They were minutes away from taking to the ice and Killian was nervous. They weren't even the favourite of the American teams in the running for bloody bronze. The idea of anyone but the Canadian or French winning silver and gold had not even been considered, it was so utterly unlikely.

But they could do it, Killian knew they could.

The world may have been skeptical at the announcement of their partnership, but dancing with Elsa had seemed entirely logical. Her detached demeanour (“Frost by name, frosty by nature” was a joke she'd heard one too many times) suited his need for an entirely platonic relationship. And her looks running in stark contrast to Milah’s didn't hurt either. He was to help Elsa to put her heart into sometimes sterile style, she could improve his precision and refine his technique.

The latter of these worked at least, they could twizzle in perfect unison and they had the required pattern down. But it was the free dance that could earn them the big points and that's where they'd faltered. His spirit had been poisoned such that it was hard to convey deepest devotion when every spin on the ice bore a reminder: love brought nothing but endless torment.

But then came Swan.

It was some kind of romantic ice dancing cliché: falling for your coach - second only to falling for your actual partner. And yet, here he was.

She was just so easy to love, or so he thought. She challenged him and made him better - made both of them better. Elsa’s relentless perfectionism had eased under the coaching of a true friend. She could often be heard reciting the mantra Emma taught her “let it go, let it go.” And as for him? She had helped him to heal and move on. Not that she would ever know.

They'd been working with Emma for weeks and the improvement was significant. It was enough to make Killian wonder if she actually did have magic powers. They were stood in their final pose, having just completed their dance for Emma. They had skated well and he could see the tiny flicker of pride in Elsa’s eyes that he was sure was reflected in his own - they had nailed it for sure.

“Seriously? That's what you call romance?” He turned to her in disbelief.

“What more do you want from us?”

“You have to use your emotion - in a good way. You look like.. like a man who's pissed at his robot for not loving him.”

Elsa huffed, quietly indignant, but outwardly calm as ever while he raged. “Well perhaps you should show us how it's done, almighty Saviour.” He gave her a mocking bow, eyes flashing at her in challenge.

“Please. You couldn't handle it.” His eyebrows shot up in shock, he'd never seen this teasing side to her before.

“Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it?”

She rolled her eyes but skated over to them. She shooed Elsa to the side and guided him to resume the final pose with her wrapped in his arms. She gazed up at him with adoration and it felt incredible. His heart beat faster and his breath quickened - he might have cursed his body for its clichéd reaction to the feel of the warmth of a beautiful woman's body, if he weren't so busy getting lost in her eyes. His own eyes softened and he smiled despite himself, leaning in when she licked her lips. “And that's how it's done,” she said, pushing back from him and turning to Elsa. “Killian’s got a romantic soul, flash him a look of love and he will follow your lead. Now, try that dance again.” Emma skated back to the side and Killian touched his fingers to his lips, startled at his close he'd come to kissing his coach. Sure, he'd always kind of fancied her - when she wasn't yelling at him - but this?

“Come on, Jones!” Elsa called, “enough with the yearning looks, it's time to skate.” She dropped her voice low so that only he could hear. “Something tells me that you'll never look at me the way you look at her.” His jaw dropped open, he wanted to fling a sarcastic remark back at her, but he stopped himself, unwilling to let Swan hear. (And besides, a small voice inside whispered that she was right.)

They'd gone from strength to strength since that day in the rink as they had each grown closer and closer to Emma and now all there was left to do was dance.

Their names were called. Emma reached up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whisper “good luck” in his ear. His nerves were soothed and he breathed more easily. He glowed with the joy of that simple kiss. He could do it, he would do it - would do anything - for her.

Killian felt light and joyful as he glided around the ice. The music seeped into his pores, guiding his movements. Elsa and he danced like a dream, every twist, turn and twizzle was in perfect harmony.

Their dance reached its crashing crescendo and they hit their final pose, looking for all the world like a pair of lovers.

The music died and he pulled Elsa into a fierce hug, lifting her off the ice with joy. “We both know I'm not the blonde you've been thinking of,” Elsa whispered into his ear with a giggle. He was so happy he couldn't even been bothered to chastise her.

They won. Of course they won. And no one was talking about their record-breaking score, all anyone could mention was the romance, their chemistry.

He'd turned off his twitter notifications after he received approximately a million mentions in a matter of minutes.

"OMGGGGGGGG @TheKillianJones & @ElsaFrost01 must be in LOVE! #FrostJones"

"I can lip read, she definitely said I love you!!!! @TheKillianJones @ElsaFrost01 #FrostJones #CanYouFeelTheLoveTonight #IShipIt”

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE DAMN MEDALS THEY ARE IN LOVE AND MY HEART IS GONNA EXPLODE!!! 😍💖😍💖😍 @TheKillianJones @ElsaFrost01 #FrostJones”

He had to laugh at how far from the truth they were.

And now he was sitting off to one side at their impromptu gold medal celebration taking it all in - most of the rest of the USA figure skating team were there drinking bubbly wine and cheering drunkenly although Neal and Tamara were conspicuous by their absence. He shook his head at their pettiness. Sure their unexpected win had robbed the pair of their own chance at a medal, but he suspected the no show was more a “fuck you” to their former coach, Emma. (He couldn't deny being glad of that, remembering the hint of tears that had glistened in her eyes at revealing how she'd discovered that Neal had been cheating on her with his partner. Not to mention how she'd been dragged into a possible doping scandal when she found herself blamed for a failed test - he still wasn't certain how Neal had weaseled his way out of those allegations. Tonight was Emma's night as much as theirs and she didn't need that dickhead bringing her down.)

“Hey.” Emma bumped his shoulder affectionately, sitting down next to him. “Beware of lurking gold medallists!”

He smiled wryly at her. “Just thinking, love.”

“Lurking and brooding - a classic combination.” He laughed. “Shouldn't you be celebrating?”

He raised his plastic cup to show off his rum then placed it down beside him. “Don't worry, I'm celebrating, I was just thinking how we couldn't have done this without you.”

She blushed, and twisted her mouth into a small smile that he found utterly adorable. “You guys have the talent,” she said with a shrug, “I just helped you to polish your routine.”

“You did more than that, I wasn't sure if I'd ever skate like that again after, well, you know.” He gestured vaguely and she nodded. She did know. He'd told her all about what happened, back in that night when they'd traded tragic backstories and came within inches of kissing. He still remembered how beautiful she'd looked, could feel her breath on his lips and the bitter disappointment welling in his soul. He gathered his courage, spurred on by the high of his win and the rum in his belly. “That is, until I met you.”

Her eyes widened and she looked deeply touched. She leaned closer to him, his breath caught in his chest and he watched as her eyes flicked down to his mouth. He wet his lips instinctively and moved closer to her, breathing in her air and waiting. Waiting.

She took a deep breath and gently touched her lips to his. Soft, that was all he could think. Her lips were so soft. His heart felt full. It was the barest of touches and it had him completely undone.

A part of him wondered if he was having that effect on her - hoped we was. Then she moaned against his lips and deepened the kiss and all thoughts were lost.

He pulled back from her the barest amount when the need for air got too strong, keeping her as close as possible, wanting to stay in this affectionate bubble forever. “That was -” he breathed.

“The reason a thousand hearts broke around the world. At least.” He looked up to see Elsa smirking at the pair of them. “Mine included, according to the interwebs. Don't look so worried, Jones, I think I'll live.” Her last comment was said with a wink before she disappeared back to the crowd of merrymakers.

“We better get back to all the partying and celebrating you and stuff,” Emma said, but her forehead was rested against hers and she showed no sign of moving.

“Do we have to? I'm sure we could just -”

She pushed him backwards with a smile. “Be patient.” He was about to protest, but she silenced him with one last soft kiss. “We can have our own private celebration later.”

“Promise?” He intended to sound flirty, but he sounded far too sincere.

“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes and dragged him back to the party.

As he held her in his arms later, her hair spilling out over his bare chest, which she was using as a pillow, he wondered how he ever got so lucky. Four years ago he had nothing, but now he had everything.

[aiimaginesbts]

Temptation: Chapter 1 (M)

Based on this request for a lovely anon. Enjoy it mate ;)

Moodboard

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut

Word count: 4,126 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Final)

Disclaimer/Copyright

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jungkook!”

No answer.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Jungkook!”

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”

Jungkook jerked the door towards the frame to a minimal crack, as if it could make you unhear the mysterious female. On the other hand, you didn’t acknowledge his gesture. Your brain was too busy trying to school your features into a furious scowl while your heart dropped to your feet. Does Jungkook have a girlfriend?

It took a few seconds to bring yourself back to the matter at hand and steer away from your crush. Reminding yourself of the disastrous day at work, you managed to ground out, “You took a day off work to have a play date with your girlfriend?!”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said in hushed tones in direct contrast to your angry volume. “She’s just… someone a friend introduced me to.”

Your heart started beating hopefully again at the explanation. Not that him having a girl over was something you were happy about, but you were so into him that you’d take it over him being in a relationship. You’d never tell him that though. Not in a million years. “Great, so you abandoned me at work so you could fuck this girl your friend threw your way?” The thought of you being judgmental and unfair to this unknown girl crossed your mind but you quickly pushed it aside. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your choice words about her. The first part of your sentence seemed to interest him more.

“Abandoned you? What are you talking a - oh.” The opening of the door widened as he smacked his palm to his forehead. “I was so preoccupied that I forgot. The presentation was today, wasn’t it?”

Satisfied that you had gotten through to him, you braced your legs apart, crossed your arms under your chest and nodded. A small crinkle formed between his brows as the stance made your chest more prominent but it escaped your notice.

Scant moments passed while Jungkook chewed on the inside of his lower lip, gazing at you intensely, then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I should explain. No sense going through with this now that you’re in front of me.”

The odd combination of words made you go, “Huh?” But he wasn’t paying attention. Yanking the door open to the fullest extent, he gestured you to step inside. You did, but you didn’t venture further because he immediately walked away into what you assumed to be his bedroom. It didn’t seem polite to make yourself at home when he hadn’t really welcomed you. Contrary to this, however, you strained to listen to the conversation going on in his bedroom. Jungkook’s words were too soft to be heard but the shrill voice of the girl was hard to miss.

“Why do I have to leave? We haven’t even done anything yet!”

Several seconds passed while he made his excuses.

“Who is that bitch? Just send her away. You know you want this baby. I can get you hard again in no time.”

Indignation filled you at the term she used to refer to you followed by disgust and disappointment at her words. Were you going to have to stand here and listen to them fuck? God, you sincerely hoped not.

“Fine!” She huffed as she stormed out of the room. You were glad to see that she was fully clothed. Perhaps they really hadn’t gotten to do anything before you came. That being said, she wasn’t dressed in much. Her skirt was so short, her ass threatened to make an appearance and her large breasts bounced heavily, nipples pushing against her skintight shirt, proving that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Unlike you, she didn’t bother taking your appearance in. Giving you a look that was ten times dirtier than the one the old lady shot you earlier, she swept past you, slipped into her four-inch stilettos and headed out. You felt a little bad for causing her to get kicked out, then reminded yourself the mess Jungkook left you in earlier and the nagging feeling disappeared.

“How long are you going to stand in my doorway?”

Blinking, you wrenched your eyes away from the door to see an amused Jungkook. At his request, you closed the door and took a seat on the sofa in his living room. You expected him to join you but he leaned against the kitchen counter a ways away, facing you.

“How was the presentation?” He began without much preamble.

You winced inwardly. Despite it being the reason you were here, somehow you’d been hoping that he wouldn’t ask you that. “It was catastrophic.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad. You had all the materials. The slides have been ready since last week.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to recall the incident objectively. “I got all the points across, but the delivery left much to be desired.”

“I’m sure you did a lot better than you think.”

It was probably his kind smile that made you feel patronised and got you riled up again. Having worked in the company for several years already, Jungkook must have forgotten how difficult it was to be a newbie. Besides, you were sure that he hadn’t had to give an impromptu presentation when he had only been working a few months. Although you had helped him prepare for it, you were certainly not expecting him to be absent on the day of the presentation, leaving you to stutter and fumble your way through it. There was no doubt in your mind that you had made a fool of yourself in front of the bigwigs.

Normally your ego would have prevented you from telling anyone any of this but Jungkook had taken you under his wing the day you started at the company and you were comfortable with him. Of course the fact that you had a major crush on him dampened your desire to admit your shortcomings to him but you spilled your thoughts on the presentation before you could stop yourself.

“It still doesn’t sound too bad,” he said reassuringly after you were done embarrassing yourself for the second time today.

“You weren’t there,” you muttered, but digressed. “So why did you take the day off?”

“I didn’t take just today off, you know,” he dodged. You did know, but it was today that bothered you the most. “I suppose there’s no point telling you that I’m not feeling well.” At your skeptically-raised eyebrow, he rubbed the back of his neck, then sighed and continued, “Having someone in my bed may make it seem like I’m not feeling under the weather but it is actually true in a sense. What do you think of werewolves?”

The sudden unexpected question threw you for a loop. “Uh, dangerous-sounding mythical creatures?”

A smirk tugged at his lips at your answer. “What if I told you that they exist?”

“I’d say nothing is impossible,” you shrugged.

“And if I told you that I am a werewolf?”

You scoffed at that. “Come on, Jungkook. I think I’ve been treated like an imbecile enough times today.”

His expression turned dark at your accusation. “On the contrary, it’s because I think you’re smart and I trust you that I’m telling you this.”

Surprised by his reaction, you said, “Okay, suppose that you’re telling me the truth. What does it have to do with you bailing on me at work today?”

“Well, you see…” you were amused to see him stick his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, the confident senior from work disappearing to reveal a hesitant persona you had never seen before. It was cute. “You know some animals go through heat, right? It’s the same for us. Usually I take some days off to… vent it out, but I do pop into work if there are urgent matters to be taken care of, such as that presentation. It’s more difficult to do this year, though.”

“Why is this year more difficult?”

“You started working there,” he replied simply.

You bristled at his allegation. “How is this my fault?”

“No, it’s not your fault,” his hands flew up in a feeble attempt to placate you. “At least it’s not anything you’ve done. It’s just that I can’t stand to see you with other guys. It makes me want to pull you away and rip their heads off.” The last part of the sentence was said with great vehemence and it made your heart skip a beat. “It’s crazy, especially when you’re not even my girlfriend. Although I know it’s inappropriate behaviour, I can’t help it when I’m like this.”

This was absurd. “There were other women in the department before I came along. Yet you didn’t have a problem coming in to work when you needed to before!”

“Those are other women. They’re different,” he said exasperatedly. “They’re not you!”

Everything he had told you was too much for you to process and absorb all at once. Your mind, no doubt guided by your heart, latched onto his declaration that you were different to him. You were special. “So…” you began, but you had no idea what to say, and the word trailed off weakly.

Silence ensued, but even though the moment was charged, somehow it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Unconsciously your eyes wandered over his body. The short sleeves of his shirt allowed you to follow the veins running down his thick arms towards his hands that you’d always admired from afar. Said hands had been shoved back into the pockets of his jeans. They added to the bulk of the trousers caused the material to strain and make you realise that his work clothes didn’t do him justice. Much like his long-sleeved, loose shirts that he wore in the office, his baggy slacks didn’t highlight his thick thighs. You wondered how something as simple as clothes could hide such a delicious specimen so well.

Then you had the sense to remind yourself that Jungkook wasn’t a piece of meat. The reason you fell for him was because of his sweet, kind personality, coupled with your admiration for his drive and passion. He never failed to make you feel welcome to share your thoughts and opinions, that no question was stupid and your ideas were always valued. No one had ever made you feel as comfortable as Jungkook did. So you forced yourself to tear your gaze away from his perfect body to look at his face.

Boy oh boy, you were even less prepared for the sight that met you than you were for that presentation at work. The cute face that you had always needed to restrain yourself from pinching was now anything but. He wore such an intense look in his eyes as he stared you down. You opened your mouth to attempt to say something but words were beyond you, so you sat there gaping like a goldfish, which didn’t seem to cool his gaze at all.

Gulping down a large amount of saliva, you choked out, “Should I call that girl back to uh, help you with your… heat?”

He shook his head with certainty. “I told you, there’s no point in being with her after I’ve seen you. You’re all I want now.” Before you could let it sink in, he reassured you, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself somehow. You should leave now though.”

You nodded very slowly, as if agreeing to his suggestion when you’re really giving a chance for the gears in your head to churn out a solution. It was clear that he wanted the very same thing you desired. How to go about it was the one thing you weren’t sure of - then you focused on what he had just said and stood up.

Jungkook’s face dropped, thinking that you were taking his advice to leave. It quickly turned into an expression of surprise when you sauntered towards him instead of the door, doing your best to appear alluring and enticing.

“What are you doing?” His voice had dropped an octave like it sometimes did when his authority was challenged at work. It didn’t deter you in the least. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, but I am tempting you,” you answered with a cheeky smile as your toes knocking into his halted you. At this distance it was clear that he was not the Jungkook you were accustomed to. His furrowed brow and narrowed eyes were predatory yet there was nervousness behind the brown irises. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, which you now noticed was hotter than a boiling furnace. Normally you’d jump away from such heat but instead you leaned closer to feel the insistent bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach.

He let out a shallow breath that was shaky and broken. “If you keep doing this I won’t be able to hold myself back any longer.”

Since the day you started at the firm, you’d been pining for him. This was the first time he showed any signs of reciprocation; you’d always thought that your infatuation was one-sided. You wanted to push him to see how far he would go. To see if what he said about being in heat and crazy for you was the truth. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“What about that guy who always flirts with you at work?” He asked despite himself.

Trying to harness your brain back to reality long enough to think, you answered, “you mean Jin?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that the mere mention of Jin’s name had Jungkook curling up his hands into tight fists, pushing his arousal even tighter in its confines. The chocolate of his eyes flashed yellow for a split-second, surprising you. “Don’t say his name,” he snarled.

Possessive boyfriends had proven to be repulsive for you before this. However, the fact that Jungkook tried his best to reign it in despite wanting you for himself endeared him to you. A part of you questioned if he would be this overprotective all the time if he was your boyfriend but your lust prevented you from caring too much. You quickly decided to trust in your gut instincts and his track record of not showing any hint of aggressiveness these past few months. “I don’t care about him. I only want you, Jungkook.”

Hearing his name upon your lips like that was all it took for his brittle control to snap. With a growl, his large hands flew to cup your jaw and lead your lips towards his. Your first kiss with him was not soft and romantic. It was hungry, animalistic and oh so good. Any doubts you had were thrown right out of your head and you let your inhibitions go, giving yourself permission to explore every part of his upper body your hands could reach.

His own hands had left your face to travel down your back until he cupped your ass. Squeezing your ass cheeks in his large hands, he methodically rubbed you against his clothed erection, eliciting a gasp from you and a groan from him at the contact.

“Oh my God, Jungkook,” you said breathlessly. You were basically dry humping him against his kitchen counter but you didn’t care and neither did he. It could go on forever and you would die happy  just like that but he had other ideas. Shifting his palms down to the back of your thighs, he hoisted you up to straddle his waist. With a grunt, he pushed himself off of the cold marble and hurried towards his bedroom.

However, instead of walking through the door, he slammed you against the wall next to it. You had no idea if it was intentional or not but you were spared from asking when he lifted your modest, knee-length skirt up to bunch at your waist. The black lacy panties covering the proof of your excitement was ripped off your body in a show of inhuman strength. It didn’t matter, the material was probably so soiled with your juices that it was already ruined anyway. You’d have covered your reddened face and shrivel with embarrassment when Jungkook looked down at the blatant display of your desire but your hands were holding onto his firm shoulders for support.

Bracing your back against the wall, he reached under your thigh to rub his fingers through your folds. You moaned as you felt the rough pads gather your wetness before two fingers pushed into your core. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he commented, rotating his fingers inside you to stretch you out before pumping them in and out of you. “Unbutton your blouse,” he commanded and you didn’t hesitate to obey. The buttons quickly became undone and a matching black bra was revealed to him. Without further prompting, you tugged the cups down so your breasts popped out of the confines of the bra.

Jungkook hummed appreciatively at your wanton behaviour and rewarded you by instantly dipping his head to suck on a nipple. He wasn’t gentle but you enjoyed it all the more because of it. Releasing your sensitive peak with a loud pop, he then teasingly blew warm air over the saliva-coated nipple, making you shudder and mewl before repeating his ministrations on the other one. When he began moving his digits inside your sopping pussy in a scissoring motion, you threw your head back and begged him to stop. Your insincere pleading was met with outright refusal. “I’m going to fuck your pussy raw,” his voice now was so raspy and desperate, completely unlike himself that you shivered with anticipation. “You have to be prepared for it.”

The continued stimulation to your delicate areas soon fogged your vision and clouded your mind. Sharp nails dug into his back as your body trembled, then shook when he brought you to your climax. The squelching sounds coming from your nether regions increased in volume as he helped you ride the waves of your orgasm until your body stopped shaking.

However, before you could calm yourself down completely, he gathered you back into his arms and marched into his bedroom, stopping by the edge of his bed. He lowered you down onto it and swiftly undid his pants. You tentatively reached for the jutting cock pushing against his boxers, intending to return the favour but he stopped you.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered brusquely.

“But what about you?”

“I’ve been raring to go ever since you stepped foot into my house,” he explained even as you turned around to do as he said. Your position on all fours on the edge of the bed deprived you of the unveiling of his cock. When you heard the shuffle of clothes being dropped onto the floor, you twisted your head back curiously.

The gasp that escaped your mouth was an involuntary reaction to the sight. You almost wished you hadn’t seen it. Almost, but not quite. Jungkook hadn’t been lying. His erection looked painfully hard, the precum leaking from the dark tip indicating that he was more than ready to go. The vein that ran along the length of his shaft reminded you of the snaking blood vessels on his arms. You briefly wondered if his cock was anywhere as powerful as his arms were. Then his hands were gripping your hips to help him guide his member towards your entrance, and all you could do was focus on your breathing.

Both of you groaned when he pushed the engorged head into your wet heat, followed by the slow entry of the rest of him until he bottomed out inside you. You had never felt so full in your life before. The inner muscles of your pussy were pulsing erratically around his cock and you marveled at his ability to pause so you could adjust to his invasion.

“Are you okay?” His whisper in your ear was taut and tense. It brought a small, happy smile upon your lips that he couldn’t see.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

His grip on you tightened as he straightened up to an upright position. “Tell me if it’s too much for you and I’ll stop,” he instructed. You nodded your understanding eagerly. With your agreement, he pulled back until only the head remained inside, then slammed all the way back in one thrust.

The sudden movement made you yelp but there was no stopping him now. He set a rapid pace right off the bat. Each thrust was just as powerful as the last. You’d heard of the phrase ‘getting your brains fucked out’ and now you understood it completely. A cry of pleasure rang out every time he pounded mercilessly into you. He was clutching onto you with such force you were sure that you’d end up with bruises but you couldn’t care less. All you could think about was how his cock was grazing against the walls of your pussy. You could swear that every bit of friction created a spark that would ultimately set you ablaze.

It didn’t take long for the tightening coil in your belly to warn you about your impending orgasm. Jungkook could feel it too. The tightening of your narrow channel threatened to push him to ejaculation but he didn’t let up. On the contrary, he bent down over you, your name coming out like a mantra interlaced with random insertions of colourful swear words and loud sniffs of your neck. He tried to hold himself back from coming even as he increased his speed to one that no ordinary human could manage.

For the first time, you came only from penetration. His name came out in a loud scream as you came hard, your vision turning white, holding onto his bed sheets for dear life. The moment you reached your high, Jungkook’s thrusts intensified, bordering on brutal as he pushed himself over the edge while you were still contracting hard around his cock. His tongue lapped hungrily at the junction between your neck and shoulder, growling and whining much like a dog being denied a treat.

His orgasm hit him hard. You could feel his violent release into you, hot and thick. He almost collapsed on top of you before letting your waist go to catch himself by placing his hands on the bed. You wouldn’t have complained even if he did, but he decided to wrap his arm around you and drag your limp body to lie properly on his bed.

Even after his heart rate had slowed down to normal, your body was still experiencing slight tremors from the force of your release. Your back was pressed hard to his chest, his tight embrace making you feel protected and loved. As you leisurely made your way back down to earth from the trip to heavens that he took you to, his continuous lapping at your neck called for your attention.

“Jungkook, not that I mind, but why do you seem fixated on my neck?”

You could feel his lips carve into a smile against your shoulder at the question. His response was a sleepy, contented hum. “I think that’s a story for next time.”

[hisquccn]

Spoils of War pt 6

Soooo here is Chapter 6 of what was supposed to be a one-shot. I feel like I might start winding this down soon since I didn’t want to make it long, and if I do make things too long I end up losing my muse for them. We’ll see how it goes. 

Chapters 1/2/3/4/5 AO3 Entry

Summary: The prince used to love his gifts from his knights as they conquered new lands, until he realized the blood that was spilled for each new object. As he grew unhappy with material possessions, the knights resorted to bringing him less willing spoils of battle. He has to put an end to their capturing of innocent people… Hopefully his new prize, a blonde with a temper larger than his kingdom, can help him set the country free…

Roy was still in shock when he headed to the great hall. She'd accepted his proposal. Riza would be his advisor in all things to do with the kingdom. The only stipulation was that spreading her father's research came first. He understood immediately. He had a meeting set the next day with the highest scholars and most well known physicians in the city. Their apprentices sat at their sides, quietly listening to the woman's explaination along with their teachers, waiting for their opinions to be made for them.

The prince slipped in quietly, listening to the words fall from the woman's lips with grace, despite the scrutiny that came from the eyes of her audience.

“You expect us to burn the living to keep them from dying.” A bearded man spoke first. Roy recognized him as the doctor living in the castle while treating his father. He was a well respected man, but he was stern in his practice. “They'd wish they were dead in that sort of pain.”

The blonde never lost her calm. Riza simply shook her head. “There's a certain amount of pain a human body can stand, then it goes into a state of shock and--”

“I'm aware of the body's own defences.” He interrupted. “People die from burns, miss Hawkeye. They don't live with their help.”

“If you'll just read over the research. The subject studied still lives. They are able to resume a normal life thanks to the bleeding being stopped.”

“This subject,” it was a slightly younger man who spoke this time. Balding with a slight lazy eye, though his good eye was looking down at the papers in front of him instead of at the woman before him. “I'm aware that they lived. But these wounds could have been sewn. He chose to burn them close simply to test his theory. It was cruel. The other subjects were animals, which he removed limbs from just to burn the stubs. Your father was truly a dark man, Miss Hawkeye.”

“My father was a well respected scholar much like the rest of you.”

“Your father--”

“He hurt animals and healed them. But just as the notes show, those animals were as good as dead from infection due to the wounds in those limbs. He did not simply chop up living creatures to suit his research.” She corrected, brows narrowed. The fire in her voice began to take over the room as Roy soaked it in. It was that adament form that knew he'd made the right decision.

“And this human subject? Why did he choose to burn them instead of sew them? Surely the scars--”

“They are the cost of living. The test subject was aware of the risks and the pain. They subjected to the treatment when asked.”

“And what pain did they feel? Were you there? Do you know?” A large woman leaned forward in her seat. She seemed to be the most interested in the group on how the studies went. She'd listened carefully to each word spoken. “How was the poor subject able to stand it?”

Riza took a breath before speaking. “They screamed around the wooden spoon they were given to bite down on. But the bleeding stopped quickly. The scarring was intense. The pain was moreso, but they lived. They were bleeding too quickly for stitches to have been possible. ”

“They were still at risk for infection after this new technique, weren't they?”

“Any wound is at risk for infection. But cleaning a closed wound over time is much safer than trying to suture such a large wound in such a short time as to save the subjects life. You are all aware how quickly someone can die from blood loss. How many patients have you lost? How many could have been saved by going through this technique. Yes there will be lots of pain, and it will have to be cleaned well, but they will live.”

The room was silent for a few moments. Riza stood confidently in the center of them all, awaiting their next statement. Finally, the bearded man, the King's doctor, spoke. “This wouldn't be a first resort. Or even a second.”

“No sir. This would be only for dire situations.”

He nodded slowly. “I think I'd like to look over this more. Perhaps my own research would be in order. I hope you understand. I can't simply trust a dead man's notes. I need to see this for myself.” She nodded before he continued. “I think this could be a valuable practice, even if not used often. Hunting wounds are common in court. War wounds are common on the field. We've lost many due to sutures not being enough. Tournequets, too, are only so effective.”

“I thank you for your consideration, sir.” Her shoulders were back, but a breath left her chest she seemed to have been holding the whole time.

“And I thank you for your information.” He replied. “I'll keep these copies, if you don't mind. We'll have them bound for the records. You have the originals.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Miss Hawkeye. I will continue this discussion with the others. Thank you for your time and for your father's work. He was once a well respected scholar, you are right. Though you must understand our hesitation.”

“I do. Thank you.” She bowed her head politely, picking up her own copies before thanking the others for their time as well. Roy watched her leave, stepping out behind her as quietly as he'd entered. She didn't even seem to notice him standing near the door when she passed.

“You did well.”

She didn't jump at his sudden comment, but turned to him. “It wasn't the easiest thing to explain. I'm not my father and I'm not a doctor. I just hope his notes speak better than I did.”

He chuckled softly. “Don't be down on yourself. You spoke wonderfully. That confidence is what we need in this court, after all, Miss Riza.”

Habitually, her hand went to push her bangs from her face, a deep breath entering her lungs. “I hope you can still say that after you've officially assigned me to your side.”

“Lady Hawkeye will be just as reliable as Miss Riza. I'm sure of it. I trust you.”

“That could be dangerous, you know. Trusting a village girl with a bad attitude.”

He laughed again. “I'm sure. I hope you'll advise me against it in the future. Though if you poison me, I'm sure I wasn't a suitable leader for this country. You will be so close as to get that chance. Though I don't believe it will come to that as long as I don't go astray.”

Her eyes widened. “You could have me killed by even suggesting I could do that.”

“I don't want you to let a corrupt man sit on that throne. I want you to want the best for this country. I told you, I trust you. I trust you to help me lead the kingdom, and if I stop being the prince, or the king this country needs, I expect you to do something about it.” He made sure to keep her attention as he spoke, eyes locked to hers. Every word was an oath. “Do you still want the position?”

Riza never looked away. His dark eyes and his firm words kept her still. At his question, she nodded. A firm expression on her face, “I do. But don't get confused. I will advise, but you will lead.” She told him. “You will lead this country, and I'll follow you wherever that path may lead.”

He smiled at that. Her affirmation was all he needed, and he knew he'd never have to ask again. “May I join you for dinner?”

She took a deep breath, the fire in her eyes clouded for a brief moment. “Yes. There's something I wanted to tell you. So I'd like that.”

His mind wandered throughout his lessons. He'd lost almost each fencing match, thinking about what she could want to tell him. In private, no less. It wouldn't be some girlish confession of love, he knew. It wasn't in her to do such a thing. He wouldn't even know how to respond to it. She was right in the idea that he barely knew her. It didn't stop the pounding in his chest to know that, nevertheless, but even so, she was to be his advisor. Being also his lover was not an option.

Her past with him, the alleged affair they shared years before, while he slept on a couch at night and she kept her distance. Few knew how well played an act it was. That alone would be hard to erase once he'd announced her, but he'd find a way. As long as their 'affair' was over, he could find a way to make it right.

He stepped to her door, a tray in hand as he knocked. No one questioned the prince's urge to carry the two meals himself anymore. Riza said nothing as she opened the door, motioning him to come inside. He stepped again to the familiar cafe table, setting the tray down quietly. “You had something to tell me?” He was right to the point, curiosity throbbing in his mind like a migraine.

“It's not really dinner conversation. If you wanted to wait until afterward...” She offered. It was an unspoken request for time.

He nodded, lifting the lid from their meals. “Then dinner first.” He smiled, assisting her to her seat politely, pushing the chair in behind her. “They have already decided on studying further into your father's research. They will be testing it in a future hunt.”

“I'm glad.” Her voice was quiet. Neither of them spoke afterwards. The only sound breaking the air in the room was the moving of silverware. Her food moved back and forth, but little left her plate.

Roy finally spoke up, his stomach seemingly smaller from the foreign tension between them. “Miss Riza? What is it you wanted to tell me?”

She stopped moving, setting down her fork before looking up at him. “I was the human subject.” She said it simply enough, never beating around the bush. “For my father's research, I was the test subject for his burn technique.”

His blood ran cold. The screams she described before, biting down on wood, scarring... Riza was describing herself. “You... you chose that instead of stitches?”

“I chose the entirety of the experiment...he presented the option to me. To help him with his final test as he requested.”

Dark eyes narrowed. “He asked you that... the entirety of the experiment. Riza.” there was no title added, but his voice was firm. She never let her eyes wander from his as he continued. “What was the cause of the wound he treated?”

“A scalpal.” She swallowed thickly. “The wound was created cleanly to prevent infection...”

Roy stood quickly, looking down to her. “He cut you open to burn you closed?” His voice was hard. “He made you--”

“He asked me. I consented.”

“He shouldn't have even asked you.” He growled. “What father asks that of his only child?”

She was quiet at that. Her chair slid backwards as she stood. “They are going to ask about the scarring. When you go hunting, when your men go to war... I want you to know how the injuries look.” She told him, for once, her eyes avoided his. “I want to show you the last test. I trust you will tell no one who you saw this from.”

His heart shook. He wasn't sure he was ready to see it, but he didn't want to let her down. The anger in him was washed away by pity. “Don't.” She told him, pulling him from his thoughts. “Don't look at me like a wounded pet, please. I chose this.”

The prince nodded, taking another breath. “Okay.” He trusted her with his life, and with his throne. Returning that trust... he couldn't deny her that.

Roy knew that seeing it would hurt him. He knew he'd hate her father more than he ever had for defacing her back the way he had after getting her back home. She chose to return to him after he sold her. She chose to care for him. And she chose to accept his offer. He was the only parent she had, and she was willing to do anything for him, until his last days. He fought the pity he felt inside, with the hatred that burned inside him.

As she turned away from him, untying her robe, his heart lurched. He wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't. He knew she wasn't. However, they both bared through it. She lowered the sleeves of her robe to her waist, using one hand to hold the robe from falling further, and the other to cover her front after pulling her hair over her shoulder.

There was a line running diagonally from her right shoulder blade, to the top of her left hip. The deep scar was broken through the middle, an ugly red scar blotched across her spine. The burn covered all but a few inches on either end of the cut across her back.

She shivered at the cold in the room, waiting for anything to break the silence as she stood. Several moments passed, Roy standing in awe at the woman before him. She'd withstood so much pain... he'd never been more awestruck by her. Her will was stronger than any he'd ever witnessed, and she bore her back to him, trusting him with the image before him.

Riza had dressed before speaking again. “I told you not to look at me with pity.” She told him.

“I don't pity you. I respect your decisions and I can't do that with pity.” He told her. “I'm angry with him. I hate what he did to you. No matter the respect I have for his research. No matter how valuable this... this sacrifice was... I hate him for it.” She was silent once more before he continued. “But you, Riza... I'm amazed by you.”

[ramblinganthropologist]

Inkjournal Day 14 - Sidekick

Summary: Varric’s got some printing errors. That, or maybe he wasn’t as careful as he thought when he wrote Tale of the Champion. Unfortunately for him, a certain mage happens to be very good at reading books. Will she ferret out the secret, or will Hawke remain a mysterious, almost mythical figure? Well, it’s Trevy, so probably the former. Word Count: 1276

---

“Come on, Varric, can't you tell me?”

“No can do, Snowflake. This one stays with me.”

Trevy was pouting. She didn't do that a lot, but right then she was. Tale of the Champion was in her lap, her place marked with a folded up piece of paper. In front of her sat the author himself, positively beaming as she begged him for more.

He was teasing her. It was downright awful.

The mage sighed as she picked up the book and held it close. “Hawke just seems too wonderful, though. Who's heard of an elven man being almost 7 feet tall?”

“I may have taken some liberties, Snowflake, but I promise they're real.” He held up his hands in front of him. “Would I lie?”

She didn't need to answer that; they both knew the answer was a resounding yes. The dwarf was a damn good liar, and maybe that was because he was such a skilled writer. After all, all authors have to lie a little to tell a good story.

Figuring out how much he was lying, though, now that was the tricky part.

“You can't tell me anything more than what you put in the book?” Big gray eyes hit Varric dead on. “Come on, Varric. If anyone has details, it's you. You were practically Hawke's sidekick.”

Her gambit fell on stone. He just held up his hands some more, making her pout once again. The afternoon was starting to become a little repetitive, but it was better than what either of them had originally planned to do. Chatting about nothing at all certainly beat shelving books and editing Hard in Hightown: Siege Harder.

Still, Trevy wasn't going to be defeated. “I know there's something up, though. Right here you say Hawke's dog was named Dog, but near the end you call them Chewy. You never mentioned them getting a new dog.”

Varric paled slightly. “Really, Snowflake, that might have been a printing error.”

Now he was the one on the wrong foot. The mage might not have known how to write a good story, but she was an expert when it came to books and their printing. A grin stretched her face as she flipped her book to the front page and tapped the inside cover.

“A printing error on the seventh edition? If they kept missing that, I think you might need a new editor.”

Oh, oh she was good. If he ever needed a fact checker, Varric realized he might have found one. Maybe it was something that came from what the Circle had done to her, or maybe she had had that kind of memory all along.

Regardless of what caused it, if he survived through this he would have to consider hiring her on for Siege Harder.

However, he had to bullshit his way out of it now. So, Varric put on his best grin in the hopes it might lead her astray. It worked on the ladies nearly 8 out of 10 times.

“Dog was the placeholder name I forgot to take out. Who names a dog 'Dog' anyway?”

Those gray eyes remained unconvinced. Guess she was the 2 out of 10.

“Uh-huh, then why do you mention Hawke breaking their right arm near the Chantry explosion-” and already she was flipping pages to where she had left her bookmark. He knew those paragraphs anywhere, of course. It was the Arishok fight. “When they lost it here?”

…

Damn, she had been the only one to catch what he had meant with that pun. He really did need to hire her on.

Trevy was still smirking as she closed the book, reminding him very much of a lawyer he had once had to go against for alleged plagiarism. “So, based on that, you're either the worst writer in the world for remembering details, or you were pulling from two different sets of source material.”

And now she was on him, eyes glowing. “Which means there's two of them, isn't there? You took two Hawkes and made one!”

Varric responded by slapping a hand to her mouth and pulling her to the side. Cassandra had been sneaking about – yes, sneaking in his opinion. She usually walked like a druffalo – and she might have been within range. Had she heard that, something more than his book would have been stabbed.

Of course, being a little rough with a mage might not have been the smartest choice, especially if it was that one. Lightning was tickling his palm, not quite ready to fry him from the inside out. It was only her self control that kept it in place at her side, but if he did anything rash he would get the full blast.

At the very least, it would get him out of editing permanently.

He sighed as he let her go. “I'm sorry, Trevy. I shouldn't have done that.”

“No, you shouldn't have.” The lightning died down though. “Then why did you?”

Varric poked his head out the door to check the coast was clear before he turned back towards the mage. She had the book in her arms again, cover out to show the drawing of Hawke he'd had done to make people read it.

Really, how she was the first to figure it out was beyond him. Even he thought it was a bit much.

“I may not have told Cassandra everything.” Another glance. “She's still trying to find Hawke. I don't want to know what will happen if she does.”

The Seeker could keep seeking. She'd never find either of them, mostly because Varric still had no idea where the hell they were. He got letters once in a while, grass stained or chewed on by sheep, that told of breaking both Circles and Templar necks, but they never specified where. Even as he had followed the Circles falling one by one, it had been impossible to place them.

Perhaps it was for all their safeties that the Hawkes stayed out of sight.

Still, Varric looked back towards Trevy. “Don't tell her anything. Hawke's doing a lot of good out there.”

Her hands trembled ever so slightly that he almost missed it. “Ostwick had a lot of good done there after the First Enchanter died. I won't say anything.”

Still, she reached out and poked him in the chest. “Never do that again, though.”

Her finger tingled, even though his heavy shirt. Without another word, the mage turned on her heel to return to their makeshift library in Haven, leaving him to his second round of edits. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck – he had been sweating?

With all the mages he had faced down, Varric thought he had been used to them. Apparently he wasn't as good as he thought.

“Maker's ass, no wonder Cassandra's still scared of her.” Shaking his head, he looked back to his notes. There was a half finished letter there, to be sent by the bird who had been pecking him half to death for nearly a week. It was an impatient little thing, much like the one who had sent it.

At least he could tell his old friends that they had someone who saw through his bullshit. That should cheer their day. After all, they were still taking shots on how he had forgotten the arm thing.

“Everyone's a critic.” Sighing, Varric lost himself in edits. If he didn't finish them, that was another person who'd be wanting his head on a platter. The things he did for his art.  

[batterymonster2021]

The Real Saul Goodman from 'Breaking Bad' and 'Better Call Saul'?

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-real-saul-goodman-from-breaking-bad-and-better-call-saul-2/

The Real Saul Goodman from 'Breaking Bad' and 'Better Call Saul'?

Whats up Dan this is for excuse for security legal professional Alan Greenberg how’re you advocacy is one of these neat dense topic I mean I suppose it’s witchcraft it is deep it is it is alchemy there are not any ethical victories of this industry if you do not win it can be a catastrophe for the character good you have to win them see if he’s coming by means of on some thing or did he come by means of on a warrant final night in the phrases of Jesse Pinkman you do not want a crook legal professional you need a crook lawyer and so we get Saul Goodman Breaking bad’s rapid-speaking lovely scumbag of an lawyer final season on the actual warmness find a actual-existence Walter White so this year we questioned if there were any real-world counterparts to his attorney to when we asked around the the big apple authorized world about who was once the most outrageous most boundary-pushing a most mighty criminal safety lawyer in the market everybody informed us one factor better call howard greenberg nobody is rather as outlandish as how it’s you just about wager but what what what you see popping out of his mouth I had a nephew that obtained in trouble with the police and the way it was once the primary legal professional I concept of if I ever acquired into problem how it is the one that i am calling call Reed how are you hello how are you to fulfill you yeah this is what Professor van Helsing looks like it you already know a van Helsing I do I do the Vampire Slayer okay so that is your crash pad my crash pad i am sorry to assert does no longer reside in a nail salon behind nail salon – oh correct Saul’s place of business yeah well that is my dwelling away from home 4 days every week many best victories had been crafted edited and tweaked on this area proper at the back of you is the subsequent one it’s a high-profile intercourse trafficking case and you realize i am working it up here so you may have by no means been put ready the place you need to shield an individual who’s certainly guilty it is it’s beside the point to me I choose they tell me however i don’t care i’m more petrified of the federal government than i’m of some individuals come again who I signify inform me about your daily so you get up at what time I stand up 5 six the very first thing I do is figure out I do not know if I look it but beneath this is a finely tuned computer then i have coffee then shower after which I get going if i’m in court or or get to work if i am now not in courtroom so let’s talk about what you are gonna wear today i don’t suppose i will wait i don’t think i’m gonna wear this shirt however several suits putting check this up I mean which you could earn the proper to wear whatever that would in any other case appear foolish you you saved anyone can however but i’ve if i’m part to a jury the affect that if their ass was once in a sling they’d want me sitting subsequent to them i will do something the i need k ok yarn it hard work on this industry makes up for lots of sins excellent let’s go get them let’s go get him i’m no longer gonna let the government crucify my guys energy Greenberg’s record of court victories is rivaled best by means of the rap sheets of his consumers in his 25 years of observe Howard has been a relentless and unapologetic advocate for people accused of everything from murder to medicinal drugs to weapons to sex trafficking defending the likes of the so referred to as Lolita lawyer who confessed to paying a girl to have sex along with her teenage daughters and rapper Bobby shmurda an alleged chief of the violent gs-9 gang however much more than his shoppers its his ruthless and outrageous courtroom methods that have made him a darling of the nearby press nobody i know how to rely Dench money for more heritage on Howard’s higher-than-life reputation we reached out to a couple of his former opponents and longtime allies to get a first-hand account of what it can be like to watch him work are you able to tell me about a few of your first encounters with Howard um I keep in mind him when I first got here to the workplace I think the article I recall most about him is you never knew what was going to come out of his mouth and repeatedly it was once very individual to you like should you tried to argue a few case in entrance of a choose he would probably attack you Howard did it to all people there may be just about an endearing quality now when you seem again at it considering the fact that the he noticed was once hysterical when I began at legal support I started as a public defender and i simply do not forget coming to understand him from seeing him inside and outside of courtrooms you understand it’s a crazy man with the jet-black hair plugs welcome to the court you already know he is uh he is now not effortless to mess he doesn’t look like a usual legal professional you know simply between just like the hair and the best way he moves and the best way he speaks he rather is aware of tips on how to push the envelope with quite a few a variety of folks however no longer force the road the place he would become getting himself into challenge there was a prostitution case of Howard’s that obtained plenty of insurance policy can you tell me somewhat bit about that it was once a case where two guys they were accused of jogging a prostitution ring and he was once giving summations and in it he was once pronouncing matters to the result that he would love to be like a ho working for them that if he made as a lot cash as them he would be doing it too that is kind of manner he rolls i’m telling you he does things that that lots of the relaxation of us would under no circumstances do like you’re go-inspecting a victim and in our robbery right and you’ll be able to say good it was once nighttime correct sure it was once dark in any respect right proper there were no streetlights have been there no the common method me feel it don’t ask a different query and then you simply sum up and say there isn’t no way that witness might have noticeable who robbed her on the grounds that it was once darkish out there were no streetlights you heard it from her possess mouth however what you do not ask the witnesses so that you couldn’t see the person who robbed you would you on the grounds that in case you ask that ultimate question it could actually simplest go wrong however Howard will ask the ideal question after which ask it 5 more approaches and 5 more times and make them cry Howard the Vampire Slayer the lawyer we’ve got an appointment what are you in one more lawyer’s place of work ok something cost he costs you i’m going to beat it k and by the way you should you must look at my record before you rent someone and if his record is healthier than mine while you compare the two you must rent him that’s not possible I realize it’s unattainable however when are you gonna be here in 15 minutes okay good boy and i do know you wouldn’t stand me up ok over the direction of the years I’ve realized to improve an extraordinarily thick dermis with him he’s very blunt and direct and that’s what I think quite a few folks quite like about him is the truth that you recognize with him you’re now not gonna get the frills and the costume-up and the lollipops and the candy canes you are going to get the very easy facts and he particularly really fights for the usual excellent which is what I really supply to him he puts his coronary heart and soul into what he does in view that he is aware what it’s like if you have the backing of the state of latest York or the backing of the federal government against you and your this one individual seeking to battle in your lifestyles so inform me what you are working on working for this vast intercourse trafficking case in ny County how long do you see this trial going on for perhaps three weeks 4 weeks you know normal we’re looking to turn selling prostitution into sex trafficking well the change between intercourse trafficking and prostitution i’m going to give you one instance you tell me ok sexual slavery intercourse trafficking now you give me one she’s a prostitute out of her own free will that is no longer intercourse trafficking nonetheless they invariably tried in some bro to opine that there’s no such thing as free will and no lady can come to be a hoe considering she wants to and if she’s making ten or twenty thousand per week that is intent any individual made her do it and were you aware that most times with John’s they simulate the act that is how stupid John’s are oh yeah obviously of course everybody is aware of they have got to be faking it no so i am speaking about faking having intercourse Wow they confirmed us how they do it well explain it you need to be for your stomach you need to get your hand like in between your legs even as you’re on your stomach uh-huh and also you have got to get the schmeckel on your hand and just stroke that factor you’re smack oh wow i am not hurting that John snake they are getting some thing some thing when they may be now not even getting any so i’m going to do with you the real ultimate argument that was in the world referred to as jury selection that I intend to do if that’s the case okay I seem out at this room full of men and women and that i say to myself they are right here to be brainwashed by means of me repeat after me do okay you men and women are going to decide you persons are gonna come to a decision whether the defendant whether the defendant is a sex trafficker is a sex trafficker or whether or not he is an innocent character being falsely accused which is what I intend to prove or whether or not he’s an harmless individual being falsely accused which is what I intend to show now let’s proceed do any of you good persons see pink while you hear the phrases sex trafficker any stealth jurors yeah any with a hidden agenda what about memberships you ever heard of a bunch referred to as reasonable women any one here read Nicholas Kristof’s school he has an obsession with intercourse and the subject of sexual slavery and and persons being compelled to do matters against their will neither of which I must let you know applies on this case my door did I inform you the women if they are cold they are gonna be witnesses you get the inspiration and that is how it is going to go hi hi Kim i am Marie Greenberg tell your lovely to meet with me this is our dining room we now have many events right here how did you guys meet we met in court docket I used to be a court reporter k and Howard was once an legal professional who labored for authorized help and we simply variety of like take to each other and it’s been that’s been some proper and the way long in the past is that that used to be 24 years ago Wow we’re married 14 so Howard says that you just helped type him oh come on is that what he mentioned yeah not ever lets me kind him I desire everyday lets me sort him he has a first-class eye but now not for himself so you absolutely met Howard in his situation of work yeah what do you think about his profession he does his job very well and he he is not prejudiced at all he just feels that every body should have a shot at being defended the correct manner does that bother you though if like somebody particularly is guilty and he is one of these talented lawyer that he will get them off after which they stroll free does it trouble me probably maybe 2 or 3 times it has however the opposite occasions no I’ve labored with so many attorneys in my existence none of them I liked him he grew up very otherwise he’s now not indignant about that he’s grateful about that and i do not suppose many men and women can say that inform me a little bit bit about your upbringing you erased on the diminish East side it’s real we lived in a slum it was three of us my father used to be mentally unwell my grandmother who raised me as a mothers and fathers and me my father was once very violent it was a every day incidence and to behave out and beat up my spindly historic grandmother one time he snapped her forearm correct in front of my face but I was a child what might I you recognize what would I do to quite preserve him I imply look what would I do about I mean our youngsters do not even understand this after I left I acquired a full scholarship to Cornell university which I briskly threw away then I floundered for decades I met a gal and realized alongside the way that her father was once a Mafia don k and mr.Giuliani’s place of business exceeded up an indictment within the case that was once captioned the U.S. Of the usa versus Badalamenti a defendant in that case was my spouse’s my then wife’s father the day prior to this’s arrests and fees disclose one other heroin operation run by means of Sicilian immigrants using pizza parlors as a entrance for trafficking in enormous quantities of medications that case devolved within the public mind into some thing that was referred to as the Pizza connection case it became the longest federal trial up to that factor in the history of the USA of the united states but it surely was on that day with the dealers and the drug sniffing puppies crawling in all places me and the persons I cared about that I’ve to grow to be a criminal security lawyer I was enrolled in Fordham regulation college three months after graduating i am a employees legal professional on the legal help Society you know it’s tough for me to be politically right however at the legal help Society they emasculate lawyers why did they do this considering they are so involved about maintaining the file attempting the case for the appeal but lawyers who are attempting the case for the enchantment are gonna lose how do you are trying the case I are trying the case to win I left the legal aid website I did fulfill my commitment I went into private follow whereupon Herbert stern taught me how you can turn out to be a pleasant trial legal professional he wrote a sequence of books entitled attempting circumstances to win and i grew to be him does it offend you when people suggest that you’re like Saul due to the fact that he is a bit of of a sketchy persona in some ways as well as being quirky no by no means i don’t have to cheat to win ok I’ve received a method that seems to work and i can train any lawyer if the battle of the government to a standstill win a pair of doses we reached out to a few of Howard’s former clients about their experiences with him and one jumps Felix agreed to go on digicam Jem’s was once charged with criminal possession of a weapon a charge carrying as much as 15 years in prison Howard took the case to trial and came away with a full acquittal youngsters that the cop stated shemp’s had confessed to the crime so I was facing seven seven to fifteen years Wow essentially saved my lifestyles he proved he proved my innocence after I was a teenager I was convicted of possession of a weapon i am achieved with that a part of my life besides like that what i’m seeking to do is just discover a job you know have some kids you already know just a little ordinary existence I imply however seeing that of my previous historical past they they are attempting to border have you ever had any dealings with any legal professionals earlier towered is here first variety of your first guy he is hostile to Lloyd had cash to pay for my earlier legal professionals in any other case employed I had like a legal support and of path legal age they work with the method they get paid via you copping up I imply I was once lucky adequate to to be in a position to pay Howard Greenberg to prove my innocence after I used to be at trial he fought with the spirit of a warrior however he fought like I was like I was his son hiya good that is why I possess golf all how did you meet Felix originally how did he find you his squeeze gave me a name and informed me you desire a attorney whilst you first met him and what had been your first impressions of him did you feel this can be a good kid topic what I concept it was once surely prick I failed to like him haha okay k but I however I grew to like him ok k if he concept he was a surly prick than wise you would not want to represent him seeing that I if I take your cash you get all of me that is why and i want to win okay you’ve got iced coffee i don’t make it from dishwater does that occur rather a lot that you just increase a style of close personal relationship along with your consumers I simply Shutt subsequent yeah no it is now not that okay it’s now not a bit of private nevertheless it’s a love and affection for anybody whose life you saved so you have got mentioned that if any individual will pay you they have your loyalty i wonder I ran the provider for money that you would be able to threaten to kill me and my loved ones and i render service for cash that a guy threatened to kill me and that i received him acquitted and that’s just the way it is why hello how would you reconcile that to our fears you’re gonna take you fear them you for the larger better system the mayor and i can not blame a guy who’s rotting in penitentiary for pronouncing some thing and the easiest goal is the lawyer ok come on after spending more time with Howard I developed a better figuring out of his belief that everybody deserved a zealous protection but a lot of his instances still quite bothered me and none more so than his defensive levee Aaron again in 2011 Howard joined the safety workforce for some of the stunning murder circumstances in up to date new york historical past where the defendant levy Aaron confessed to kidnapping killing and dismembering an eight year historic boy attorney Howard Greenberg is able to be hated for his client even as looking to look after confessed baby killer levy Aaron to realise the morality of defending any individual who had confessed to horrible crimes I reached out to big apple ethics legal professional Nicole Hyland I suppose it can be main for men and women attorneys and to recognize that real-world ethics is just not the identical as authorized ethics there may be some overlap but there are numerous matters that legal professionals are obligated to do and anticipate it to try this rather don’t ought to do with morality a criminal lawyer goes to still look after a purchaser even if they comprehend the client is guilty and so i can think that in particular circumstances the place you have got a defendant who’s accused of particularly horrific crime the public could think there may be something immoral about that about staying silent whilst you understand your customer is guilty you realize men and women continuously say oh how can how will you guard those those responsible individuals and i have customers accused of horrible terrible disgusting horrible matters and that’s my job to guard anyone’s got to in the back of them you already know an oncologist job is to beat the melanoma and a crook security attorneys job is to to be the prosecutor a client is entitled to zealous advocacy there probably whatever that mentioned or achieved that the external world could take offense to but that is a safeguard legal professional rightfully combating for his or her patron when Howard first received on the levy Aaron case one in every of his defenses he made up our minds was going to be that levy Aaron who used to be in a quite ultra-orthodox Hasidic neighborhood that his protection was going to be that possibly he used to be inbred and as a result that prompted him to have some type of madness that brought on him to commit this horrible crime and so on the time dov hikind who was once a big part of the Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn was quite up in fingers to close to blame the Jewish neighborhood for moves of this one man or woman he needs to shield LaVey Aaron he has each correct to do this but to attack insult degrade an whole group my group any individual’s community that’s now not what this case is all about so I talked to Julie Rendell in she was a hard son of a bitch of the move I might tell you that particularly and we had some knockdown and drag our baddest what tell me about that well my merrily with the butcher of Bensonhurst believe I heard any individual who I suppose like conceptually I failed due to the fact he took a plea and i am used to profitable circumstances but the legislation says the defendant makes that decision now not the legal professional I consider that had we tried that case he would had been found not responsible by rationale of madness on account that if he wasn’t loopy no person’s crazy you surely believe he used to be insane do not you chopped a little bit child into portions and put half of of it in the freezer and the other 1/2 in the rubbish you tell me oh thanks so much to a rock what do you feel would had been the nice end result he went to trial after which he and then what there used to be no just right end result he would have wound up within the loony bin for the leisure of his lifestyles correct had he long gone to trial would had been in from would have been terrific for me since the story would had been within the papers every day for three months every time in fine first-rate business for you exceptional publicity it’s anything like the levee or in case of large the cash got here three or is it with that extra like a profile factor I did that case totally free quite and the intent I did it without spending a dime used to be considering the fact that I had learn in the paper that the choose was given the protection attorneys a tough time has there ever been a factor where you’re up in courtroom where you think like probably you’re virtually crossing the road I simply keep on with the advocacy you already know so probably in case you say the complaining witness is a lying sack of that frightens men and women when you say the complaining witness got what he deserved that frightens folks do you think like to be a just right crook safeguard lawyer you have got to push boundaries as much as the road at the very at the naked minimum up to the lines in many instances over the road depending on the case and depending on the purpose are you ready your sight i’m loaded for undergo i’m in a position the rationale for my appearance here today as i am slated to begin a high profile sex trafficking trial a trial that I frankly assume to win via the first three paragraphs of words that I utter to the jury it is beautiful reproduction it is a method that appears to work do you are gonna supply me a little bit of a taster of your opening argument yeah i’ll give you the whole thing yeah i am excited to listen to it i’m going to be standing at a lectern how about this Norman to get at the back of a rock handled as a lectern yeah look there we go so i will begin with the with the steeple gesture of my arms after which and the following time i change a movement i’m going to shift the arms away from the body after which after I particularly get going i will you are stipulating like Donald Trump incidentally earlier than I get to whatever to do with the hand gestures when the choose it invitations me to get up and do that the first thing I do is freeze in my chair and and i could freeze for up to 30 seconds and the reason for that is there is no extra concentration-getting factor you are able to do in a court docket then sit down definitely nonetheless that’s to assert freeze to the factor where i need men and women to be uncomfortable wondering what’s he waiting for then I upward push slowly and then I transfer briskly to the lectern simply think me relocating briskly to the lectern then I relish the second with this gesture i’m relishing the second and then I get out the sledgehammer and start to wield it so i will say as follows anything else was once this fax pattern it was once no longer intercourse trafficking and i’ll prove that this fax sample used to be made of hookers rendering sexual favors if that for US forex to John’s and that’s historic John’s incidentally are among the dumbest folks going for walks the face of the earth the young ladies i’ll prove work this hos which is what they name themselves on account that they wanted to and if that appellation is just right adequate for them it can be just right adequate for you and it can be just right adequate of me and i will show that they came and went as they please i will prove that the words just for illustration i’ll kill you or their equivalents are protected free speech no matter how tough or soft the half-baked prosecution expert witness tries to ram an uninformed opinion down any individual’s throat it is going to now not change the fact that with the aid of their own lights the women should not quote victims unquote you may also well as the case unfolds witness the spectacle of the supposed victims seated within the audience backing us up and cheering us on it is now not your job to render a verdict that tells them methods to are living their lives if they want to promote their our bodies to the tune of ten to twenty thousand a week then so be it finally that’s a quite simple case selling prostitution and that’s all does no longer equal sex trafficking and any person with a half of a brain is aware of it i’m going to ask you to come back a verdict of not responsible on each and every rely of intercourse trafficking it is the one fair suitable justified verdict the proof in the case will aid and pause i’m gonna appear at each and every any such men and women and then i’m gonna say and i consider we appreciate every different and that’s how it’s completed there’s no such thing as a useless case good day Felix smile you’re on candid digital camera all proper child you know i love you who’s your daddy put mayonnaise on each food I can not eat this i’ll wrap it up and go to my wife get us in there what variety of digital camera is this right how about a little flash

[airoasis]

The Real Saul Goodman from 'Breaking Bad' and 'Better Call Saul'?

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-real-saul-goodman-from-breaking-bad-and-better-call-saul/

The Real Saul Goodman from 'Breaking Bad' and 'Better Call Saul'?

Hi there Dan this is for excuse for safety legal professional Alan Greenberg how’re you advocacy is such a neat dense subject I mean I suppose it’s witchcraft it is deep it’s it is alchemy there are not any ethical victories of this industry should you do not win it’s a disaster for the man or woman well you must win them see if he’s coming by means of on something or did he come by means of on a warrant last night time in the words of Jesse Pinkman you do not need a crook lawyer you need a crook attorney and so we get Saul Goodman Breaking unhealthy’s quick-speakme lovable scumbag of an lawyer final season on the true warmth find a real-lifestyles Walter White so this 12 months we puzzled if there were any real-world counterparts to his legal professional to once we asked across the the big apple legal world about who used to be probably the most outrageous most boundary-pushing a most powerful crook safety attorney in the market everybody told us one thing higher call howard greenberg nobody is fairly as outlandish as how it’s you just about guess however what what what you see popping out of his mouth I had a nephew that acquired in quandary with the police and how it was the first legal professional I inspiration of if I ever acquired into problem how it is the one that i’m calling name Reed how are you hi how are you to meet you yeah this is what Professor van Helsing looks like it you understand a van Helsing I do I do the Vampire Slayer okay so this is your crash pad my crash pad i’m sorry to say does not reside in a nail salon in the back of nail salon – oh right Saul’s office yeah good that is my dwelling away from residence four days a week many satisfactory victories were crafted edited and tweaked on this house right in the back of you is the next one it is a excessive-profile sex trafficking case and you recognize i am working it up right here so you have never been put able where you need to defend someone who’s genuinely responsible it is it’s beside the point to me I select they tell me but i do not care i’m more petrified of the government than i am of some members come again who I represent tell me about your every day so that you get up at what time I rise up five six the first thing I do is figure out I don’t know if I look it but beneath it is a finely tuned computer then i have coffee then shower after which I get going if i’m in courtroom or or get to work if i am no longer in courtroom so let’s talk about what you’re gonna wear in these days i don’t believe i’ll wait i do not believe i’m gonna wear this shirt however a number of suits placing verify this up I imply you understand that you could earn the proper to wear something that would in any other case appear foolish you you saved someone can however however i have if i’m phase to a jury the impression that if their ass was once in a sling they’d need me sitting subsequent to them i will be able to do anything the i need okay k yarn it hard work in this trade makes up for a lot of sins good let’s go get them let’s go get him i am not gonna let the federal government crucify my guys power Greenberg’s report of courtroom victories is rivaled handiest through the rap sheets of his customers in his 25 years of practice Howard has been a relentless and unapologetic suggest for humans accused of the whole lot from homicide to medications to weapons to intercourse trafficking defending the likes of the so known as Lolita lawyer who confessed to paying a lady to have sex with her teenage daughters and rapper Bobby shmurda an alleged chief of the violent gs-9 gang but even more than his clients its his ruthless and outrageous courtroom tactics that have made him a darling of the local press nobody i understand how to depend Dench cash for extra history on Howard’s larger-than-life status we reached out to some of his former opponents and longtime allies to get a primary-hand account of what it can be like to observe him work are you able to inform me about some of your first encounters with Howard um I do not forget him once I first got here to the place of work I consider the object I take into account most about him is you under no circumstances knew what was going to come back out of his mouth and oftentimes it was once very individual to you adore if you tried to argue a few case in front of a choose he would probably attack you Howard did it to each person there may be practically an endearing exceptional now while you seem back at it given that the he noticed was once hysterical after I began at legal aid I began as a public defender and i simply take into account coming to grasp him from seeing him inside and outside of courtrooms you know it’s a loopy man with the jet-black hair plugs welcome to the court docket you already know he is uh he’s no longer easy to clutter he would not look like a natural attorney simply between like the hair and the way he strikes and the way he speaks he quite knows learn how to push the envelope with a variety of a number of men and women but not force the line the place he would emerge as getting himself into quandary there was a prostitution case of Howard’s that acquired quite a few coverage can you tell me just a little bit about that it used to be a case where two men they have been accused of jogging a prostitution ring and he used to be giving summations and in it he was saying things to the result that he would like to be like a ho working for them that you realize if he made as a lot cash as them he could be doing it too that’s sort of method he rolls i’m telling you he does matters that that most of the relaxation of us would on no account do like you’re move-analyzing a sufferer and in our theft correct and you can say good it was middle of the night proper yes it used to be dark in any respect proper correct there were no streetlights have been there no the normal process me believe it do not ask a different query and then you just sum up and say there is not no means that witness might have seen who robbed her given that it was darkish out there were no streetlights you heard it from her own mouth but what you do not ask the witnesses so you couldn’t see the man or woman who robbed you might you on the grounds that for those who ask that best question it may best go flawed but Howard will ask the ideal query and then ask it 5 more ways and 5 extra instances and make them cry Howard the Vampire Slayer the legal professional we have an appointment what are you in a different lawyer’s administrative center ok whatever price he bills you i’m going to beat it k and by the way you must you should appear at my report earlier than you rent any individual and if his file is better than mine when you compare the 2 you should rent him that’s not possible I realize it’s not possible however when are you gonna be here in quarter-hour k excellent boy and i do know you wouldn’t stand me up k over the path of the years I’ve discovered to develop an awfully thick dermis with him he is very blunt and direct and that’s what I feel numerous people rather like about him is the fact that with him you are not gonna get the frills and the dress-up and the lollipops and the sweet canes you’re going to get the very easy facts and he quite really fights for the usual excellent which is what I fairly give to him he places his heart and soul into what he does considering that he knows what it’s like if in case you have the backing of the state of latest York or the backing of the federal executive towards you and your this one individual seeking to combat to your existence so inform me what you’re working on working for this colossal intercourse trafficking case in big apple County how long do you see this trial happening for probably three weeks 4 weeks you know common we’re looking to flip selling prostitution into intercourse trafficking well the change between intercourse trafficking and prostitution i will offer you one instance you inform me okay sexual slavery intercourse trafficking now you provide me one she’s a prostitute out of her possess free will that is now not sex trafficking however they constantly tried in some bro to opine that there’s no such factor as free will and no girl can come to be a hoe due to the fact that she wants to and if she’s making ten or twenty thousand a week that’s intent anybody made her do it and do you know that almost all instances with John’s they simulate the act that’s how silly John’s are oh yeah without doubt of path every person is aware of they need to be faking it no so i’m talking about faking having intercourse Wow they showed us how they do it good provide an explanation for it you need to be on your belly you ought to get your hand like in between your legs even as you’re to your belly uh-huh and you have to get the schmeckel for your hand and just stroke that factor you’re smack oh wow i’m no longer hurting that John snake they may be getting some thing some thing when they’re not even getting any so i’m going to do with you the actual ultimate argument that was on the earth known as jury decision that I intend to do in that case ok I appear out at this room stuffed with people and that i say to myself they’re right here to be brainwashed with the aid of me repeat after me do okay you folks are going to make a decision you people are gonna decide whether the defendant whether or not the defendant is a intercourse trafficker is a sex trafficker or whether or not he’s an innocent individual being falsely accused which is what I intend to prove or whether he’s an harmless individual being falsely accused which is what I intend to show now let’s continue do any of you good humans see pink while you hear the phrases intercourse trafficker any stealth jurors yeah any with a hidden agenda what about memberships you ever heard of a group called reasonable ladies anybody here read Nicholas Kristof’s college he has an obsession with sex and the subject of sexual slavery and and individuals being compelled to do matters towards their will neither of which I ought to inform you applies in this case my door did I inform you the girls if they are bloodless they’re gonna be witnesses you get the idea and that’s how it is going to go hi hello Kim i am Marie Greenberg inform your beautiful to satisfy with me that is our eating room we have many parties right here how did you guys meet we met in courtroom I was a court reporter ok and Howard was once an legal professional who labored for authorized aid and we just kind of like hit it off and it can be been that’s been some proper and the way lengthy in the past is that that was once 24 years in the past Wow we’re married 14 so Howard says that you helped variety him oh come on is that what he stated yeah never lets me sort him I desire daily lets me type him he has a first-class eye however no longer for himself so that you certainly met Howard in his position of labor yeah what do you suppose about his occupation he does his job very good and he he isn’t prejudiced in any respect he simply feels that every body will have to have a shot at being defended the proper way does that bother you though if like a person relatively is guilty and he’s this kind of proficient attorney that he gets them off and then they walk free does it hassle me perhaps possibly 2 or three times it has however the opposite times no I’ve labored with so many attorneys in my lifestyles none of them I favored him he grew up very in a different way he is not irritated about that he is grateful about that and i don’t consider many people can say that tell me a bit of bit about your upbringing you erased on the reduce East facet it is actual we lived in a slum it was three of us my father used to be mentally ill my grandmother who raised me as a moms and dads and me my father used to be very violent it was once a everyday incidence and to behave out and beat up my spindly old grandmother one time he snapped her forearm right in entrance of my face however I used to be a baby what might I you already know what could I do to particularly guard him I mean appear what might I do about I mean our children do not even understand this after I left I obtained a full scholarship to Cornell college which I quickly threw away then I floundered for decades I met a gal and discovered alongside the way in which that her father was a Mafia don k and mr.Giuliani’s office exceeded up an indictment within the case that was once captioned the USA of the us versus Badalamenti a defendant in that case was once my wife’s my then wife’s father the day before today’s arrests and expenditures reveal an extra heroin operation run via Sicilian immigrants using pizza parlors as a front for trafficking in significant quantities of medicines that case devolved within the public intellect into something that was once known as the Pizza connection case it grew to become the longest federal trial up to that point in the historical past of the USA of the us however it was once on that day with the sellers and the drug sniffing dogs crawling all over me and the men and women I cared about that I’ve to become a crook safety legal professional I used to be enrolled in Fordham regulation university three months after graduating i’m a employees legal professional on the authorized aid Society you comprehend it’s hard for me to be politically proper but on the legal aid Society they emasculate lawyers why did they try this due to the fact that they’re so concerned about retaining the report making an attempt the case for the appeal but legal professionals who are trying the case for the attraction are gonna lose how do you try the case I are attempting the case to win I left the authorized help site I did fulfill my commitment I went into personal follow whereupon Herbert stern taught me the way to grow to be a excellent trial legal professional he wrote a series of books entitled trying cases to win and that i grew to become him does it offend you when humans endorse that you’re like Saul on the grounds that he’s a bit of a sketchy personality in some ways as well as being quirky no on no account i don’t have to cheat to win okay I’ve acquired a procedure that seems to work and i can teach any attorney if the battle of the federal government to a standstill win a pair of doses we reached out to a couple of of Howard’s former consumers about their experiences with him and one jumps Felix agreed to go on digicam Jem’s was charged with felony possession of a weapon a cost carrying as much as 15 years in prison Howard took the case to trial and came away with a full acquittal besides the fact that children that the cop mentioned shemp’s had confessed to the crime so I was going through seven seven to 15 years Wow essentially saved my lifestyles he proved he proved my innocence when I used to be a young person I was convicted of possession of a weapon i am achieved with that part of my existence except like that what i am looking to do is simply find a job have some children you know somewhat standard life I imply however on the grounds that of my prior historical past they they are trying to frame have you ever ever had any dealings with any attorneys prior towered is right here first kind of your first man he is hostile to Lloyd had money to pay for my prior legal professionals in any other case employed I had like a authorized help and of path legal age they work with the method they receives a commission by way of you copping up I mean I was fortunate ample to to be equipped to pay Howard Greenberg to prove my innocence once I was once at trial he fought with the spirit of a warrior but he fought like I used to be like I used to be his son hiya good that is why I own golf all how did you meet Felix at the start how did he to find you his squeeze gave me a call and told me you desire a lawyer whilst you first met him and what have been your first impressions of him did you think it is a just right kid topic what I suggestion it was once obviously prick I failed to like him haha k ok however I but I grew to love him okay k if he notion he was a surly prick than intelligent you would not want to represent him for the reason that I if I take your money you get all of me that’s why and i want to win k you may have iced coffee i do not make it from dishwater does that happen a lot that you just enhance a sort of shut personal relationship with your purchasers I just Shutt subsequent yeah no it can be not that ok it can be no longer just a little individual however it’s a love and affection for anybody whose lifestyles you saved so you will have stated that if any person will pay you they’ve your loyalty i ponder I ran the carrier for money that you would be able to threaten to kill me and my family and that i render provider for money that a guy threatened to kill me and that i obtained him acquitted and that is just the best way it is why hello how would you reconcile that to our fears you’re gonna take you worry them you for the higher higher method the mayor and i can not blame a man who’s rotting in jail for announcing whatever and the easiest target is the attorney k come on after spending extra time with Howard I developed a better working out of his belief that every person deserved a zealous safeguard but various his cases still relatively afflicted me and none more so than his defensive levee Aaron back in 2011 Howard joined the safeguard workforce for one of the surprising murder circumstances in recent big apple historical past where the defendant levy Aaron confessed to kidnapping killing and dismembering an eight yr historical boy legal professional Howard Greenberg is in a position to be hated for his patron at the same time looking to guard confessed little one killer levy Aaron to fully grasp the morality of defending someone who had confessed to horrible crimes I reached out to big apple ethics lawyer Nicole Hyland I believe it’s essential for people legal professionals and to realise that actual-world ethics is not the identical as legal ethics there’s some overlap however there are quite a few things that attorneys are obligated to do and expect it to try this particularly don’t must do with morality a criminal legal professional goes to still guard a customer even supposing they know the consumer is responsible and so i can suppose that in particular instances where you’ve gotten a defendant who’s accused of relatively horrific crime the general public would feel there may be something immoral about that about staying silent while you recognize your patron is guilty you realize individuals perpetually say oh how can how will you safeguard those these guilty folks and i’ve customers accused of terrible terrible disgusting horrible things and that is my job to protect someone’s got to at the back of them you understand an oncologist job is to beat the melanoma and a criminal safeguard attorneys job is to to be the prosecutor a consumer is entitled to zealous advocacy there might be whatever that said or performed that the external world could take offense to but that may be a safety attorney rightfully fighting for his or her purchaser when Howard first bought on the levy Aaron case one in every of his defenses he determined was once going to be that levy Aaron who used to be in a rather ultra-orthodox Hasidic community that his safety was going to be that probably he used to be inbred and for that reason that brought about him to have some type of madness that brought on him to commit this horrible crime and so on the time dov hikind who used to be a big a part of the Jewish community in Brooklyn used to be relatively up in palms to practically blame the Jewish community for actions of this one man or woman he needs to preserve LaVey Aaron he has every correct to do this but to attack insult degrade an entire group my neighborhood someone’s community that’s no longer what this case is all about so I talked to Julie Rendell in she was a difficult son of a bitch of the go I might tell you that particularly and we had some knockdown and drag our baddest what tell me about that well my merrily with the butcher of Bensonhurst suppose I heard any person who I think like conceptually I failed seeing that he took a plea and i am used to profitable instances but the law says the defendant makes that call now not the lawyer I feel that had we tried that case he would were located no longer guilty by way of rationale of madness considering if he wasn’t crazy no one’s loopy you without a doubt feel he used to be insane don’t you chopped somewhat kid into pieces and put 1/2 of it within the freezer and the opposite half in the garbage you tell me oh thanks quite a bit to a rock what do you think would were the quality effect he went to trial after which he after which what there was no excellent effect he would have wound up within the loony bin for the rest of his existence right had he gone to trial would have been in from would were wonderful for me because the story would were in the papers every single day for 3 months at any time when in exceptional terrific industry for you super publicity it can be something like the levee or in case of massive the money came three or is it with that more like a profile factor I did that case free of charge particularly and the reason I did it without cost was once considering that I had learn within the paper that the judge used to be given the security attorneys a tough time has there ever been a point where you are up in court docket where you think like might be you are just about crossing the line I simply stick with the advocacy you realize so maybe in case you say the complaining witness is a lying sack of that frightens folks in case you say the complaining witness acquired what he deserved that frightens persons do you feel prefer to be a good criminal safeguard attorney you need to push boundaries as much as the line on the very at the naked minimal up to the strains generally over the line depending on the case and depending on the reason are you capable your sight i’m loaded for bear i’m equipped the reason for my look here in these days as i’m slated to a high profile sex trafficking trial a trial that I frankly assume to win by way of the first three paragraphs of phrases that I utter to the jury it is beautiful replica it can be a process that seems to work do you are gonna give me just a little of a taster of your opening argument yeah i will give you the whole thing yeah i’m excited to hear it i’m going to be standing at a lectern how about this Norman to get behind a rock treated as a lectern yeah seem there we go so i’ll with the with the steeple gesture of my palms and then and the next time i modify a action i will shift the fingers faraway from the physique after which once I relatively get going i’m going to begin you’re stipulating like Donald Trump incidentally before I get to some thing to do with the hand gestures when the judge it invites me to stand up and do this the first thing I do is freeze in my chair and and that i could freeze for up to 30 seconds and the purpose for that’s there is no more awareness-getting factor you are able to do in a court then take a seat definitely still that’s to say freeze to the factor the place i want humans to be uncomfortable questioning what is he waiting for then I upward push slowly after which I transfer briskly to the lectern simply assume me relocating briskly to the lectern then I savour the second with this gesture i’m relishing the second after which I get out the sledgehammer and start to wield it so i will say as follows anything else used to be this fax pattern it was no longer sex trafficking and i’ll prove that this fax sample was fabricated from hookers rendering sexual favors if that for US foreign money to John’s and that is historic John’s incidentally are among the many dumbest folks strolling the face of the earth the young females i will show work this hos which is what they name themselves because they desired to and if that appellation is good adequate for them it’s just right ample for you and it can be good sufficient of me and i’ll prove that they got here and went as they please i will show that the words just for instance i’ll kill you or their equivalents are included free speech no matter how hard or tender the half-baked prosecution knowledgeable witness tries to ram an uninformed opinion down anyone’s throat it’s going to now not trade the fact that by their possess lights the girls are not quote victims unquote you can also good as the case unfolds witness the spectacle of the supposed victims seated in the audience backing us up and cheering us on it can be now not your job to render a verdict that tells them easy methods to reside their lives in the event that they wish to promote their our bodies to the tune of ten to twenty thousand every week then so be it eventually that is a quite simple case selling prostitution and that’s all does no longer equal sex trafficking and someone with a half of a mind is aware of it i’m going to ask you to come a verdict of now not responsible on each rely of sex trafficking it can be the one fair correct justified verdict the proof in the case will help and pause i am gonna seem at each this kind of individuals after which i’m gonna say and i consider we realise each different and that is how it’s executed there’s no such factor as a useless case hello Felix smile you’re on candid digicam all correct child i really like you who’s your daddy put mayonnaise on each food I can not consume this i’ll wrap it up and go to my wife get us in there what style of digicam is that this proper how about a little flash

[thing1ewot-blog]

Moonrider – Forum Troll / Fail Spy

Well, folks, here we go with our first troll of the new year. And the winner is:

MOONRIDER!

Congratulations, Moonrider. Now take a bow…and while you’re down there, kiss our ass you ugly, bearded, fat fuck. (No, the shave didn’t help you man. You looked better with that ugly-assed mug covered up…but we’ll get to that in just a few moments.

Now, our history with Moonrider goes back to when this site was first getting set up. I was, at the time, only a passive part of what was going on. Gomez was trying like hell to set up a forum for the site at the time and was just getting his ass handed to him by a bunch of fucking Wotlabs trolls that were spamming it non-fucking-stop.

And it was Moonrider who kept saying over and over again that he was blocked and couldn’t register his name and that Gomez had banned his ass.

Of course, none of that shit was true.

They even set up an account in his name FOR him and he made some other stupid shit accusations against them and I think at that point they just said, “fuck it” and moved on.

Moonrider has always been an asshole. He never has anything good to say about anybody or anything other than himself, which is funny since the ugly fuck doesn’t have a whole shitload going for him. But I digress…

Here’s the type of asshole Moonrider is – he’ll post this in a response to somebody:

But when somebody else does essentially the same exact thing, he posts this:

In other words, Moonrider is allowed to use images in response because he has no fucking brains or vocabulary, but if anybody else does it then they’re a fucking idiot that needs to go back to school.

That’s Moodrider. That’s how he rolls.

So here’s the next question, who is this prick?

Well, you guessed it, we’re going to tell you. Moonrider’s name is Jesse Woodson. Ahhh fuck it…here you go:

Jesse H. Woodson 22109 Countryside Ln Lignum, VA 22726 Facebook MySpace (YES!!! He has a fucking MySpace Page!!!)

We’ll pause for you long enough to stop laughing and clean up the shit you just spewed out of your mouth all over the fucking monitor.

So here he is in all his glory, folks:

Yep.

Ugly.

And fat.

Just like almost all of them. It’s so fucking predictable it’s almost disappointing, isn’t it?

So, that’s it then. That’s him. Typical fucking World of Tanks, ugly, fatass troll.

UPDATE 1/6/18:

So Leftist brought to our attention the fact that Jesse made a bit of an ass of himself over at the Wotlabs forum when they changed the colors of the WN8 scale back in 2014. Apparently, he cried like a little bitch over it, then got essentially neg repped / shamed off the board completely.

That lasted about two weeks before he crept back saying his wife had died of cancer and he was burying her that Wednesday.

WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK?!?!

His wife has cancer and is dying so he’s worried about and bitching about colors on stats in a free-to-play pixel tank game?

HO LEE SHIT!!!

How do we know this? Well, let’s look at a few things:

Here’s his Facebook page where he announced he was engaged to a lady named Erin Beach. That’s in 2013 as stated.

So a year later, he’s crying like a bitch over stats, gets neg repped and shamed to death, vanishes, then comes back announcing she’s dead of cancer:

You know, that would be very sad but for one small little detail.

Here she is just this past October:

Pretty damn nice looking…especially for an alleged corpse.

And we have her Facebook page which we’re not going to post, but it’s also alive and well. She’s a girl after God’s own heart. She’s going back to school to get her degree and working her ass off at two jobs to take care of her family while shit-for-brains Jesse plays fucking eye-spy and pixel tank games.

Nice going, dipshit. You pissed away a woman most guys dream of finding over a fucking free-to-play pixel tank game.

So where does the “spy” thing come in? Well, this is where it gets dicey. This is either a complete, total, epic fail on his part or the most staggering set of circumstances to occur since John Wilkes Booth leaped down to the stage with a smoking gun in hand after he didn’t shoot President Lincoln.

Oh wait…

Anywho, so I get this mysterious email. Here it is in it’s entirely:

Guys,

I often disagree with your approach. And I think your political commentary is shoddy and takes away from your purpose. But with those digs I just wanted to tell you:

Rita published this crap about a skin in the console game and didn’t contact anyone for statements, didn’t realize that WG can take anything they want that users post to the forums etc. My point is, it was shoddy journalism.

While I don’t agree with your editorial slant, you guys do great investigative work. Undeniable. And the quality of your work is a sharp contrast in comparison to the gossip column Status Report has become.

I check the site out. I have a different view. In the end you have a right to your approach and you do some great work.

I do PR work in DC. You fact check better than a lot of major networks and papers. In a time where journalism has really devolved to printing gossip, you guys have some respectable principles. Diversity of opinion is great when the opposing side has command of the facts. It’s why I keep reading your stuff.

You can print this if you want. I sent this privately simply because it is partially critical. Please don’t use my name or phone if you do.

I am a crappy 50% player in the game who struggles passed tier 8, by the way.

Christopher Alexander 202.779.8387

I responded back cordially:

We never expected for everybody to agree with us. Hell, that’s not even REMOTLEY possible.

We were just sick to death of never having a voice. Of the Wargaming power clans who are also the moderators deleting anything and everything that shows who they really are and what they’re really all about while putting their own bullshit narrative into place by nothing but pure censorship.

If we get it wrong, it’s not because we just fucking made it up. We’re simply telling it how we see it with the information we actually hunt down and find.

Thanks for the letter. No offense is taken. We’re not above criticism (god knows we’ve gone ’round and ’round with Scorpiany on more than one occasion), but criticize us. Don’t come on our site trying to troll us with your bullshit like they do on the official forum. You’ll notice that Scorpiany still hangs around.

Thanks for the letter. Believe it or not, we’re getting more and more just like it almost daily now.

Regards,

Thing 1

So then, VERY quickly, he comes back with this:

Well… The fact that a dude named Thing 1 could bets his beat better than half the DC press corps (on either side of political spectrum) pretty awesome.

You guys have your thing, and I get it. But I’d love to see you guys sit down with Wargaming and do an interview. You’d need to be softer in your tone and that may not work with your intent, but that would be something.

While I am not as negative about them in general, there media relations are poor, and I doubt they would do it.

Funny, Chieftan and I were in adjacent units in Iraq (I was a Scout) and a few years ago I was in a match and chatted with him. When I explained what I do now he encouraged me to apply for as their PR head.

That would have been a tough job.

So they invest in the new tech. Does this mean they stop being accountants now and spend money to enhance the game? Or will they be more arrogant and double down with the attitude that the graphics fixes everything so stop complaining about your tier 8 you bought perpetually being feasted on by tier 10s.

Guess we’ll know soon.

So, instantly, I’m like:

So what WAS an apparently innocent email now turns into “I know the Chieftain” and “you should sit down with Wargaming”.

SAY FUCKING WHAT?

So, I make a couple of calls and go into investigation mode.

The guys email address is: christopher.alexander.dk@gmail.com

Why would DK, a multinational fucking publishing/media company, use fucking Gmail? Well, folks, they wouldn’t. I made a phone call and it turns out not only does DK NOT use Gmail, they have never heard of anybody named Christopher Alexander and are sure that he and his message are a complete fraud as far as they are concerned.

OK. Cool. So who is he then?

Probably best to run the phone number he provided. So I make another call and get that done. I also open the source on the email itself and find the final IP address of the original sender:

That, folks, is the IP of the cell phone that sent the email.

It’s an unregistered, pre-paid cell phone. Oh how convenient, eh? But we do know where it was used last. It was last registered bouncing off a tower in close proximity to Jesse’s house.

Well, let’s look at a few pictures to help you all visualize this better. Here is Jesse’s house:

Now, if you zoom out from that, you’ll see where the cell phone last registered:

Folks, that is one hell of a coincidence, is it not?

But then the question arises, why would he go to all the trouble? Well, we have a theory on that. You see, we think he thinks that he’s smart. He wanted to see what we would do, and if one of us would call the unlisted, pre-paid cell so they could fuck with us or something.

I don’t really know.

But I do know this: Moonrider came to this site earlier to see if we had published anything. First time he’s ever been here, folks. Today. Right after all this shit went down, he shows up.

Now folks, any ONE of these things in and of itself means nothing.

But ALL OF IT?! What the fuck are the odds?

Less than zero, folks.