#I went to Pearle Vision and honestly I don’t think I’m going back there again

[raeathnos]

.

[lunaekalenda]

daddy.

a/n: okay so this is my try to write something more spicy i guess :D i accept criticisms since i'm not really into this and i was just curious to write it :') sorry for your eyes my dears also big thankies to @prada-issues for reading it and give her opinion aaaa please minors do not interact with this post ! to be honest it is based on s4 kirstein what a surprise

your favorite character x fem!reader (warnings and one shot down the read more)

w: use of words like daddy, baby, good girl or bad girl; fingering, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mention of adult videos, male m, oral (male receiving), thigh riding, unprotected sex, slapping

You don't like this tone of pink. Or even this laces. But, after all, he bought this for you. Thinking about you. What other way could you please him more than showing him how good it looked on you?

"Turn around." that were the only words said. He's sitting on his little couch, a glass full of liquor on his right hand. His hair is messy, as if he has run his fingers through it. His elbows are on his knees, his body slightly leaning to the front to have a better view. You turn around. "Slowly, princess, slowly." he asks again. Your feet obey before your brain. Actually, you don't dislike this. Being desired with this intensity. He stretches an arm towards you, taking the little pink skirt he bought, pulling softly to make you go closer to him. Then, his attractiveness shots.

He leans back again, a lazy hand unbuttoning his shirt's neck, long and bony fingers entering the fabric to take the button off. You can smell his liquor and see a couple sweat pearls running down his body, disappearing on his clavicle, still covered by the white shirt. He looks at you in the eyes, a dangerous smile appearing on his lips.

"Are you seeing somehing, baby?" he asks, his hands being even more provocative, how his fingers open a way to the inner part of his clothes to take the little plastic out. His tongue caresses his lips when he takes the last sip. He gets up. "I told you to turn around, but you stood still, looking at me. That isn't what I asked you to do, hm?" he says. You can feel his hands playing on your sides, reaching the skirt. "I guess you need a little punishment." he whispers. You find his eyes, lust and desire reflected on them. You don't want to be punished. You want his praises.

"But I like when you call me good g-" you get interrupted by his deep and lustful laugh.

"Good girls do what Daddy ask them to do, hm? They aren't disobeying girls. So..." he says. His hands sneak into your skirt, finding easily your panties. Just with a little touch, he smiles. "... I guess being a bad girl for me isn't that bad, since you keep disobeying me." he says.

When he asked you to start this type of relationship, you didn't know how turned on you could get just by hearing him call you 'Good Girl'. The dominance aura he has around, the way this fits him as if it was made for him. It makes your legs weak and your pretty cunt squelch around nothing.

He gives a little slap on your butt, still covered with that cute pastel pink skirt. He goes back to his couch, sitting. The way his hand unzip his pants, so lazy and unamused about the situation... You take a fast look to his legs. An important bulge is growing on his underwear. "Kneel here for me, hm?" he asks, showing a place between his legs. You kneel, on the cushion he put for you. He always thinks of those little details. He doesn't want to hurt his loved one.

His hand takes out that pretty cock he has. You lean towards it, but his hand stops you. "No, baby. This is a punishment. You're gonna kneel there and watch how Daddy gets off, okay?" He also takes his phone from his pocket, quickly tipping. You look curious at the back of the phone. Is he chatting?

No.

You recognize what he's watching a second before the first sound. Moans and skin slaps coming from his phone. His hand moves as lazy as all his previous movements, his mouth half open, letting some gasps and sighs escape through his teeth. You always loved his hands and, honestly, they look so good around his shift, giving it slow strokes. You also want to help him, but you find this scene so hot...

While your fingers find the end of the skirt, his eyes look at you from above the screen.

"Don't touch yourself, hm? Daddy din't give you permission to" he says. His voice has a raspy tone that makes your interior tingle and he lets the words out in a whisper, as if he was adverting you. He is adverting you. You don't want more punishments. You want to be his good girl again, the one that gets his praises and caresses and kisses. Your hand fastly goes up again, now resting on his knees. He smiles. "That's it." his sentence is followed by a deep moan he lets out, his hand going a little faster while his phone gets all his attention again. You don't like that. You're supposed to be what makes him hard, not that stupid video. He should be getting off with you. It looks so hot, all hard and gloomy. You don't want more punishments, but Daddy won't be angry if you help him a little, right?

You lean closer to him, his eyes covered by the screen when your tongue gives a little kitten lick to his dick. He lets out a groan. Taking his phone out of his vision, he looks at you.

"I thought you maybe needed some help, Daddy." the way that word leaves your mouth, so smoothly and innocent, turns him a hundred times more. He puts his phone near the glass, on the little crystal table near the couch. His hand leaves his dick, now guiding your head.

"Daddy is dissappointed since you disobeyed me again." he says. He makes the shape of your lips with his thumb, feeling the gloss cape on them.

"But I just wanted to help you." you pout. He takes your jaw quietly. His eyes looking directly at yours. His lips curve on a sweet smile.

"Hm, and you're a really good girl for that. Now, open your mouth and help Daddy, yeah? That's what you wanted to do." his words are a win for you. You get closer, his hand quietly guiding you. "That's right, just like that." his head tilted back and his hand rests on your hair, guiding your movements softly. Your tongue spins around his tip, making him gasp louder, his hips starting an unconscious movement against your mouth, not really hard. "Hm, you're making Daddy feel really good... As the god girl you are." You can help but smile, even with your mouth full. He caresses your cheek. "Come on, baby. I taught you how to make Daddy happy with that cute mouth of yours." You know it. He has taught you how he likes to be sucked, from tongue movements to pace changings. A little bulge appears on your cheek. He caresses it, his tip feeling his thumb outside of your mouth. He takes your head with both hands, softly thrusting into you. You can't help but let him use it. He isn't rude, he knows you only want to help him. He just lets his hips make lazy movements against your mouth. He makes you release it, some spit connecting both of you. He spreads it out of your mouth with his thumb.

"You look so pretty, baby..." he doesn't lie. Your blushed cheeks, teary eyes and plumped lips make you look really beautiful. And knowing that him is the reason makes his cock twitch.

Now you're sitting on his thigh, little movements accompanied by moans while you ride on top of his pants, leaving a little wet patch on them.

"Oh, you're that wet? You even passed from your pantie to my pant." he says. His hand is stroking his shift again, his eyes changing from your pleasure expression to your little hip movement. He groans. "So fucking beautiful." He sneaks his free hand between your underwear and your skin, one king and bony finger reaching your inner. You let out a moan.

"Mmh, it feels good..." you say, moving with more need, wanting to feel his finger deeper. He smiles for you, so attractive.

"Yeah? This feels good?" he asks. He puts a second finger inside. "Than think about how well my cock will feel." he says. You moan louder, feeling his hand stroking again while his fingers play inside you. He takes them both out, a hilo de fluids connecting them to you. "Now, ride Daddy." he says. You look at the wonderful sights you have. His sweating body, only his pants and boxers on, with his cock outside them, hard and ready for you. You stand up and, before getting your price, you wait for him to decide with clothes you should leave on your body. "Take off your panties." he says. You do so, anticipating in your stomach all the pleasure you're gonna feel when he gets buried into you. "Leave the skirt, take off the shirt." he asks. You do so, his lips smiling when he founds you don't use a bra, just how he told you to. "So obedient..." he whispers, attracting you to his lap and sitting you. That way, with his hands moving your hips, you can rub your now naked body against his. A deep moan escapes his mouth. You sigh with satisfaction.

"Can I put it in, Daddy?" the way you beg, the way you call him Daddy makes him want to let you do whatever you want with him. He gets so hard and so weak he could cum just hearing you calling him "Daddy" and moving those cute lashes. He nods, his hands guiding your hips up while you grind down on him slowly. You both let out a moan, your mouth open with pleasure. He puts a finger inside, and you suck it. You suck his finger how he taught you. A groan escapes his throath.

"You're so big, oh, godess." you say. He smiles, an smile full of lust, his hands tangling with yours when you start a slow movement against him.

"You're taking it so well, baby..." he says. "You like to feel Daddy's cock inside you, hm?" His hips go up involuntary, thrusts helping your pace. "You're so tight for me..." that made you squeeze him even more. His head went back, showing you his Adam apple and his neck, exhaling slowly. "Like that."

His hands are on both sides of your hips, some casual slaps whenever he wants you to be faster. Your legs hurt because of the impulse but you don't care. It feels so good. He knows it. That's why he takes you, turning you both around, his arms holding your legs while he accommodates your body on the couch, making easier for him to thrust into you. His hips make lascive noises when they hit you, your hands reaching his neck. You need to hold onto something. You feel dizzy from the pleasure.

"More." you beg. Your voice sounds broke, pure desire on it. He knows you're close, really close, that's why his thrusts take a slower pace, hitting the spots he knows you like, making your eyes roll. "More, more." it sound like an oration now, his body finding yours so slowly you think you're burning in slow burn. You can also hear his gasps, his groans, how he's also enjoying soemthing than only you can bring him.

"You're close, aren't you, baby?" he asks. His voice sounds so sexy like that. You're about to cry, you're feeling so well. Your legs start to tremble and your grip on his hair is stronger. His mouth covers yours on a sweet kiss, his tongue finding yours. He parts under your surprise gaze. "I want to hear every single sound you make when you come." he says. And you give it to him, so gladly.

A reward for making you feel that good.

little tag: @espritmuse <3

[asprettyasyourown]

How/Where do you think Jon and Arya will meet again? And how/where do you think Dany and Arya will meet?

Honestly, I can’t see Arya and Jon meeting anywhere else other than Winterfell. It would be such a satisfying “conclusion” to this aspect of their storyline. For Arya, both Winterfell AND Jon have been associated with home. She has tried since day one to return to either of them, and to see her do both at the same time would be so lovely. And Jon too, who has struggled for so long with his desire to have Winterfell (feeding his rivalry with Robb and his conflict with his status as a bastard) and Arya (contradicting his position as a member of the Night’s Watch, who have no family), would then get both at the same time. I know GRRM doesn’t like to hand things on a silver platter, and that “Be careful what you wish for” is a massive theme in the series, but come on. You can’t tell me they had it easy, and that they didn’t fight for it.

Now how and when is a little trickier.

Unfortunately, it won’t happen before a loooong time. Arya has a long way to go before leaving Essos, let alone reach Winterfell. She still needs to: 

Tie the story with the FM (including a “training” with the courtesans/the Black Pearl, and of course leaving them);

Deal with the wildlings women and children that are stranded in Braavos now that the Sealord captured the ship (= slavers) that intended to sell them;

As I’ve mentioned before, I very much see the Iron Bank being involved in her storyline, so there’s that to deal with as well;

Meet Dany (I’ll go back to this later);

Go back to Westeros;

Deal with the Riverlands, the Brotherhoods Without Banners and, most importantly, Lady Stoneheart;

Reconnect with Nymeria.

And all that doesn’t even take into account what GRRM could throw in her way on top of all of this. That’s a lot. And since Arya will definitively not see Jon anywhere outside of the North, it could only happen after she resolved all those things.

Jon too has a lot on his plate. He first needs to be resurrected (duh). He also needs to deal with the traitors who stabbed him and his future in the Night’s Watch. If you omit the whole murder thing (kinda hard to tbh), there is still the fact he broke his vows for Arya. He was already set to leave before he died. And since his last thoughts were about Arya, and we know the dead who get resurrected focus on their last conscious thoughts, his resolve to get her back will not be lessened.

Honestly, I think he’s done with the NW. I think he’s gonna do what he intended to before dying, aka kill Ramsay and get “Arya” back, whether by allying with Stannis or at the head of his own wildling army. I don’t know if he’s gonna become King in the North like in GoT, but he’s definitively going to be considered for the role; and since Bran, the legitimate heir, is still alive and will one day return to Winterfell, this could be the catalyst for the tension between these two George planned in his original draft. Not to mention the tensions it would create with the other northern lords, who would not see with a kind eye a bastard allied with the wildlings (enemies of the North for generations) and Stannis; or those who simply won’t appreciate a king not as malleable as a child (side-eye to the Manderlys).

(Oh, and there is also the matter with fArya and Theon. I’m going on a limb here, but I doubt he’s gonna be happy to learn that what he thought was his precious “sister” is really an impostor (though he might be happy to know the real Arya didn’t get what Jeyne had to endure). Or that she’s bringing along the guy who betrayed the Starks and supposedly killed Bran and Rickon. His first reaction definitively won’t be good, though it will probably soften once he learns what happened to them and how Ramsay is the real culprit. But I’m not anticipating much benevolence from him, especially since he’s in dark mode now).

So yeah. Lots of issues to be resolved before they can be reunited, and that’s without counting on the threat of the Others or what other characters might do. Honestly, I’m anticipating a reunion between the end of TWOW and the beginning of ADOS. On one hand, I think it would be more impactful in TWOW; most specifically, the last act of either Jon or Arya’s chapters. It would be a nice conclusion for the both of them, before the Others mess everything up. But I’m also aware that all the issues I’ve previously mentioned might not be resolved in one book, and that it might spill on the second one.

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

Now Dany.

Honestly, it’s kinda hard to be sure of how they’re gonna meet. They will, that’s a certainty. There is so much hints, since the first book really. Remember this?

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. [Arya, IV, AGOT]

Which is exactly how I’m anticipating their relationship. At first, things are going to be tense, especially on Dany’s side who has been fed lies about the Starks and their role in her exile (and who could blame her). So there’s definitively room for Arya to be frightened. But once she gets Dany to see her side to the story, and her vision of the events become more balanced, they’ll become fast-friends. They have so much in common, it’s impossible for them not to.

But, once again, the details of how they’re gonna meet is blurry. Arya will need to at least be done with the FM. And Dany... Dany has a lot on her plate too. She’s gonna need to deal with the khalasar she hears at the end of ADWD, and a possible confrontation (alliance?) with the Dothraki. She will also need to end the plot in Meereen (aka choose between “fixing” its whole culture or do what she always intended to, return to Westeros and seize back the Iron Throne). Of course, we know she’s gonna choose the latter - but a bunch of things can happen between that, and with them time passing.

At this point, Arya and Dany are very far away, each at one extremity of Essos. For them to have a chance to meet, I anticipate that Dany will end things with Meereen at the same time Arya closes the storyline with the FM (maybe even before, so Dany could already be on the road towards Braavos). Now is the tricky part. I have two theories on how they will meet: through the lost Wildlings and through the Iron Bank.

The lost Wildlings

We know the wildlings women and children in Braavos were “freed” when the Sealord seized the ship carrying them. Unfortunately, others were not so lucky.

“I know why the Sealord seized the Goodheart. She was carrying slaves. Hundreds of slaves, women and children, roped together in her hold.” Braavos had been founded by escaped slaves, and the slave trade was forbidden here. “I know where the slaves came from. They were wildlings from Westeros, from a place called Hardhome. An old ruined place, accursed.” Old Nan had told her tales of Hardhome, back at Winterfell when she had still been Arya Stark. “After the big battle where the King-Beyond-the-Wall was killed, the wildlings ran away, and this woods witch said that if they went to Hardhome, ships would come and carry them away to someplace warm. But no ships came, except these two Lyseni pirates, Goodheart and Elephant, that had been driven north by a storm. They dropped anchor off Hardhome to make repairs, and saw the wildlings, but there were thousands and they didn’t have room for all of them, so they said they’d just take the women and the children. The wildlings had nothing to eat, so the men sent out their wives and daughters, but as soon as the ships were out to sea, the Lyseni drove them below and roped them up. They meant to sell them all in Lys. Only then they ran into another storm and the ships were parted. The Goodheart was so damaged her captain had no choice but to put in here, but the Elephant may have made it back to Lys. The Lyseni at Pynto’s think that she’ll return with more ships. The price of slaves is rising, they said, and there are thousands more women and children at Hardhome.” [The Blind Girl, ADWD]

So the Goodheart was too damaged to go to Lys, but the Elephant wasn’t. It means there are still hundreds of wildlings women and children enslaved there. Honestly, I’m not sure how Arya could be involved in freeing them. Lys is a long way from Braavos, which means she would have to travel down there (with no resources and the other half of the wildlings), free them and get back up to sail across the Narrow Sea, deal with the Riverlands and then go North. It’s a little much for one girl, even one as resourceful as Arya. Sure, she could ask help from the Iron Bank (see my second point), but I doubt they would indulge her (high risk for no rewards).

But. You know who is as strongly against slavery as Arya, whose path might make her travel to Lys and who has the resources to fuck shit up? Yep, Dany.

The way I see it is, after being disheartened by Meereen and her failure to change the slaver(y) culture, Dany could very much decide to go home to Westeros - and set everything ablaze in her path. If she failed to abolish slavery from the inside, she might decide to do it by force, as a last FUCK YOU to the masters. This could be the beginning of her rock bottom, before she rises back again. It’s also coherent with the Dothraki culture of “Submit or be killed”, which could play a part if she allies with them again.

So I could see her attacking the big cities of Essos, destroying the masters and freeing the slaves as she goes along, until she reaches Braavos - who may be protected since 1. she would use its port to journey across the Narrow Sea and 2. they’re famously known for being founded by slaves and anti-slavery as a whole (and they actually enforce that rule, not just preach it and close their eyes when it counts). There, she could meet Arya through the wildlings women reuniting. Like I said, things would be tense at first, but if they might not be friends at first, they might respect each other for having their hearts set on the same goal (protecting their people). Friendship would come later, I’m not worried about that.

The Iron Bank theory

For me, the Iron Bank doesn’t get the recognition it deserves as a threat, and I fully anticipate them having a much larger role in the next book.

I really believe they will have a hand in Arya going back to Westeros. After she leaves the FM, I very much see them stepping in to offer their “help” to Arya. Personally, I believe the Kindly Man informed them of her real identity (though his motivations are yet unclear). I believe he’s aware of her value as a princess, and the (supposedly) last heir of the North. Look how people are rallying for her in the North when they hear “Valiant Ned’s precious little girl” is being brutalized. Do you think the Iron Bank is gonna pass on such a prize? I can see them trying to do to her what the Manderlys are doing with Rickon, or what Illyrio tried to do with Dany - offer their protection and help so she would be/feel indebted. They could get ahold of the North through Arya, and of the other Kingdoms through Stannis/the crown’s debt. Not too shabby.

But wait, there is a problem arising. A problem named Daenerys, who fully intends to take back the Iron Throne - and if she does, she’s not gonna care about reimbursing the debt her predecessors/usurpers left, thus lessening their leverage (and with three dragons, a Dothraki army and the Unsullied, threatening her is not gonna fly well). I can see them trying to step in too, promise the same things to her they did to Arya - except she’s not gonna fall for the same ploy like Viserys did with Illyrio.

(Btw, I’m sure Arya too will see right through them - she had a whole training dedicated to make her see beyond appearances, and she’s always been pretty observant (like when she didn’t fall for trap Cersei laid for her, with Lannister soldiers dressed as Stark men in AGOT). But she also don’t have the same resources Dany has, and if she frees the wildlings, she’ll have hundreds of mouths to feed and transport back to Westeros. I can’t see her do that without external help, so she might be playing along til a better opportunity arise.)

Now, both these theories have their flaws. The biggest one, for me, is time. Meereen is not gonna be resolved in a day (unless Dany just sets everything on fire the moment she arrives and takes off into the sunset, but I doubt that). She still needs enough time to travel to Braavos. Even if George takes his sweet time closing the FM storyline, dealing with the wildlings in Braavos and the Iron Bank, it’s not gonna take a million chapters. Unless he throws something in there to delay her departure, something that wasn’t foreshadowed yet? Because I don’t see them meeting first in Westeros. What would be the point of having them on the same continent if they don’t meet there? As always, there’s a lot left hanging in the air.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Hiii can I request a oneshot where the other other Shelbys never really approved of Tommy and reader's marriage even though she's nice (idk maybe because she seems like she doesn't fit into their life? or seems naive, whatever reason works tbh) but they start to realize they were wrong when they see how much she cares for him when he's really injured and how happy they are sometimes or just when they see that she's not as weak as she seems. Does that make sense? Idk I just thought about it and I can't write but you don't have to! 🥰

//This was one of my favorite one shots in a while. I had a lot of fun with it so if you ever want a continuation I would LOVE to do so.

            Tommy came in like a storm. “Alright, everyone’s on their best fucking behavior, right now.”

            His family was all sitting in the open part of the betting shop as Tommy had requested that they be there.

            “Why-”

            “No.” Tommy held up a hand to stop John from speaking any further. “No questions. Just do as I say.” He said before going back to the door connecting the shop and Six Watery Lane. He returned arm in arm with a beautiful young woman who had bright eyes and a friendly smile.

            Polly looked a little surprised but was quick to welcome the woman. Tommy, while he’d been in London on business, called his aunt about a woman he’d met. He said she was a socialite daughter of a long line of blue-bloods. But that didn’t concern him. What did was she had a love for charity work, especially regarding orphaned children.

            One night and she’d captured Tommy’s heart. It was quite a remarkable thing. And now he was bringing her to meet his family for the first time.

            “Everyone this is Eve, Eve, this is my family.” Tommy introduced with a tentative tone.

            “How do you do?” She greeted.

            Only four words in and Arthur and John were about to burst out into laughter. The combination of her posh accent with the greeting made them almost doubled over. And they didn’t make it conspicuous either.

            So much that Eve’s face fell and she looked self-conscious.

            Tommy wasted no time whacking John upside the head. “These are me idiot brothers and my aunt, Polly.” He glared at Arthur.

            “It’s good to finally meet you.” Polly stood up to readjust the mood and shook Eve’s hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

            “Oh.” Eve forced a small smile. “Well, thank you. Tommy has spoken very highly of you all

as well.”

            “Might’ve been speaking too soon,” Tommy muttered under his breath. “C’mon. I’ll show you my uncle’s yard.” He took Eve’s hand to lead her out of the shop, throwing his brothers one more deadly glare as they left.

           ~~~~~~~~~~~

            Later, when Eve was freshening up for a night at the Garrison, Tommy went downstairs to tell off Arthur and John.

            “What did I say when I came in?” Tommy snapped.

            “Oh, Tom, c’mon.” Arthur protested.

            “She’s a fucking toff.” John threw a hand up. “You honestly think she belongs ‘round somewhere like here?”

            “You nearly made her cry, you bastards.” He snarled. “She’s a good woman, it doesn’t matter where she’s from.”

            “Yeah, then what happens when you get into trouble and she’s clutching her pearls running back to London,” Arthur replied. “We’re only tryna protect you, Tom.”

            “I don’t care what either of you thinks. But she wants you to like her. So, you both better start acting nicer ‘round her.” He spoke in a threatening tone.

            Arthur sighed seeing how upset his brother was. “Alright, alright. We’ll be nice.”

            “’Long as her family tosses us some money,” John muttered under his breath.

            “Enough.” Tommy hissed as he heard Eve coming down the stairs. He smiled as he saw her wearing a flashy gold dress.

            “I hope I’m not overdressed.” She apparently had taken the Shelby brothers’ reaction to heart and was self-conscious about her appearance and demeanor. Truthfully, she felt out of place in Small Heath. Eve had been raised in the highest echelon of society. For the first seventeen years, she lived in the countryside, where the nearest neighbor was at least a mile away. She had horses and toys, nurses and tutors to raise her, and practically anything else she desired. When she turned eighteen, she began to live part-time in one of her father’s properties in London. It was the first time she’d truly seen poverty and it made her realize her privilege. With her father’s blessing, she began a charity to help build and fund proper orphanages that took care of their children.

            She became of trying not to come off as snobbish. But being in Small Heath, she was hyperaware almost to the point that she came off as shy and awkward.

            “You look beautiful,” Tommy assured her. “The Garrison’s got a bit of a makeover itself so you’ll fit right in.” He linked arms with her and guided her toward the door, away from his brothers to avoid any other contact.

~~~~~~~~~~ 

            The party was in full swing and Eve was starting to feel less out of place. She found Tommy’s friends and family to be amiable and enjoyed their company. Class didn’t really matter when it came to having a good time with plenty of drinks.

            Halfway through the night, Tommy left Eve at a table while he went to get another round of champagne. She decided to take a breather and left the pub. There were a few people mingling outside, talking and having a smoke.

            “Tommy said we made her cry. Fuck’s sake.”

            Eve heard a familiar voice and saw Arthur talking to a woman who Tommy introduced Eve to earlier that night.

            “I didn’t think Tommy would want someone so sensitive.” She replied with a shrug.

            “Maybe he just wants a leg up. Wouldn’t blame him.”

            Eve had heard enough, she went back into the pub and found Tommy waiting for her. He frowned when he saw her face.

            “What’s wrong?”

            She shook her head and tried not to look upset. “Do you mind if I go back to the flat?” Her voice trembled.

            “Ev…what happened?”

            “Please, Tom, I just-I’m tired.” She felt like everyone was looking at her. “Please.”

            “Okay, okay.” He stood up, leaving the champagne flutes on the table. “I’ll get our coats.”

~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Tommy refused to back down. Arthur and John apologized to Eve who accepted the apology with a smile. She said she didn’t care but Tommy still wasn’t happy. His brothers were still doubtful of her and made jabs at her upbringing.

            She couldn’t load a gun. Didn’t know how to drive a car. Didn’t smoke. Asked too many questions about their operation.

            Eve felt like a child, naïve and so out of touch with the way they lived. But her true test of strength came in when a few weeks after she originally visited Small Heath.

            Tommy was ambushed, and a bullet grazed his side. Arthur and John managed to get him to safety, half dragging him back to Watery Lane.

            Polly and Eve were sharing a chat in the parlor when Arthur burst in with his brother hanging off his arm, bleeding a profuse amount. John still had his gun drawn, afraid they had been followed back home.

            Eve, shockingly, didn’t go into a panic. Arthur thought she might’ve become overwhelmed or even faint at the sight of blood. But immediately, she went into a work-like mode.  

            Paired with Polly with Arthur’s strength, they got Tommy onto the table. Eve hurried to get Tommy’s layers off to find the wound. “Get some towels and water.” She ordered the eldest brother in a strong voice he hadn’t heard from her before.

            He didn’t even hesitate, always a soldier he responded to firm direct commands.

            “Ev…” Tommy moaned, his vision spotting.

            “You’re okay.” She said softly. “It’s not too bad, just need to stem the bleeding.” When Arthur returned, she made quick time, disinfecting, washing the wound, and bandaging it tightly. “Doesn’t need stitches.” She reassured Polly and the boys who were watching her with a bit of surprise. Usually, they were the ones who had to put Tommy back together again after an altercation. But she had worked so quickly that there was no need.

            Eve pressed a cold cloth to Tommy’s head and dabbed the sweat from his brow. “Take it easy and rest.” She said softly and kissed his cheek.

            “Where’d you learn to patch up gunshot wounds?” Arthur asked, still unsure of what he’d just witnessed. The posh girl had taken command and very well could’ve saved his brother’s life.

            Eve looked a little shy, tucking a curl behind her ear. “My friends and I all took red cross courses during the war. They enlisted as nurses but-” It felt like a terrible admission to make to a veteran. “My father talked me out of going. I was his only child and he said he couldn’t bear it if anything happened to me.” Her brow wrinkled as she rinsed the bloody cloths in the water basin. “I always regretted it. One of my friends lost her life in France because of a grenade. Every so often I’ll take a course just to make sure my skills haven’t gone rusty.” She smiled weakly. “Especially now that I know Tommy treats everywhere like a battlefield.” She affectionately touched his hand as he was still recovering from the shock of being shot.

            Polly gave John and Arthur a side-glance and a small smirk.

            Arthur cleared his throat. “I s’pose we misjudged you then, Eve. That’s very erm-admirable of you.”

            She smiled; a bit relieved she had proved herself to Tommy’s brothers. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s good to put some of the things I learned to good use. Although I do hope none of you encounter another bullet.”

            Polly rolled her eyes. “Don’t hold your breath with these three.”

            They shared a chuckle and Tommy began to stir again. He grasped onto Eve’s arm, his head still spinning from the blood loss.

            “Ev?”

            “I’m here.” She sat down beside him and stroked his hair back. “You’re alright.”

            “Yeah, glad the red cross taught you well.” Tommy smiled as he stared up at the ceiling.

            “I told you those classes weren’t for nothing.” She teased him gently, weaving her fingers in with his.

            “Was all her, Tom. Fixed you up good as new.” Arthur chimed in.

            “Yeah, no surprise. She’s good at a lot of things you bastards aren’t.”

            “Oh, Tommy, hush.” Eve scolded.

            “Well, once we teach her how to shoot a gun, I think she’ll be on her way.” John took a seat with a good-natured smile.

            “That’s right.” Arthur tousled John’s hair. “We’ll turn her into a Peaky girl soon ‘nough.”

            Tommy shook his head and closed his eyes to rest a bit. “I like her the way she is now.” He mumbled.

            Eve squeezed his hand. “I’d like to learn how to shoot, though.”  

            Tommy just laughed weakly before nodding off.

[yikesharringrove]

Billy gets turned into a cat because he pissed someone off. Max brings this stray to Steve's house because of Neil. Billy doing all the terrible cat things at first and not letting Steve touch him but warming up to him. Just follows Steve around, learns about them. Then he jsut does the dick cat hing to other people. Keeps sneaking into family video. The curse only breaks when Billy admits to himself how much he cares about Steve.

No monster au I guess? I honestly don’t know anymore but Billy never got possessed.

-

“Hey little dude.”

Steve picked up the little cat. It’s fur was thick and a light color, with big bright blue eyes.

He had found it screaming in the backyard.

It was squirming in his arms as he brought it inside.

“Where’s your home? You have no collar. You’re naked.” He put the cat down in the kitchen, opened a can of tuna for him. The cat sniffed at the tuna, tucking in to it slowly. “Naked cat, what should I name you?” Steve sang at the cat.

It turned it’s big blue eyes on him, looking at him judgmentally.

“Wow. You’re a rude naked cat.” The cat hissed at him. Steve pretended to clutch at a set of pearls, gasping dramatically. “Mind you language in my home, young man.” The cat seemed to roll his eyes at him.

He spent the night playing with the little cat, learning he was kind of an asshole, didn’t really like to play much, and would knock shit off any surface it could get to. (Which was all of them. All surfaces).

But it was nice having something to take care of, and he woke up with the little thing curled into his neck.

-

Billy doesn’t know what the fuck had happened.

He was standing by the Camaro, having a cigarette as Amy Whatever-her-name-is was sucking him off. He had closed her eyes, pretending the soft lips around him belonged to one Steve Harrington when she pulled off him, started yelling at him for not being into her. He had driven her home mad and told her she was a slut.

She had pointed a finger in his face, told him until he got his head out of his ass and admitted how he felt he would be stuck. He didn’t know what the fuck she was on about and told her she was a crazy bitch before peeling outta her driveway.

It was not his finest moment, and he was seething while he drove around.

He decided to take a walk, was chain smoking through Loch Nora when his vision whited out. He felt like he was hurdling through space for hours or maybe seconds before he came to his senses.

As a fucking cat.

He was outside of Steve’s house, and needed help, only to find that Steve was useless, gave him some fucking tuna and said weird shit to him.

The next day he went out for some time, coming home with cat toys, food, and a fucking litter box.

Billy was goddamn appalled.

He was expected to shit in a box and Steve was gonna clean it up.

That is not fucking happening.

-

He had been spending the week with Steve, had so far he had learned Steve Harrington is an adorable fucking weirdo.

He likes to sing at Billy, likes to pick him up, watch tv with the little cat curled on his chest.

He talks a lot, fills up the empty house around with sound, plays music and leaves tvs in different rooms on as he moved through them.

He would laugh at the asshole things Billy did, like pawing at the record player until it turned off when he played music Billy didn’t like.

And Billy learned that Steve didn’t sleep much. He would stay up late, lights flicked on around the house.

The first time Steve had a nightmare, Billy pawed at him, meowing as loud as he could, trying to get Steve back from whatever nightmare he was having.

Steve woke up, looking at Billy before bursting into tears, pulling the little cat close.

Billy purred loudly, trying to help, absolutely hated the way he his chest heaved, the way he curled into himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Billy purred louder, didn’t want Steve apologizing.

-

Steve had named the little cat Diablo.

The first few days were spent with the cat hissing and swiping at him, not letting Steve touch him and pushing expensive vases to the floor.

But the little cat seemed to warm up to him, had stopped doing little asshole things and spent most of it’s time following Steve around.

Robin came over after work one Saturday to meet the little fur ball Steve had been cooing about for weeks.

“He’s really cute, Steve.” Diablo did not like Robin, was curled in Steve’s lap, glaring at her. “Even if he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. It took him a few days to trust me.” He scratched the little cat behind it’s ears.

“Billy hasn’t been in Family Video in a few weeks.” The cat perked up at her sentence. Steve shifted it over to rub at it’s belly.

“Yeah. I know.” Diablo purred. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rob. I don’t think he feels like that about me.” Diablo twisted around, curling back into Steve’s lap, looking at him intensely, pawing at his chest.

“He flirted with you all summer at Scoops, Dingus.”

“I think he was just being an ass.”

“I know a closet case when I see one, Popeye. Hence why we’re friends.” Diablo stopped pawing at Steve, trotted to sniff at Robin’s knee, looking at her with big eyes.

“I’m not a closet case.”

“You were when we met.” Diablo swatted at her shin, staring at her. “He’s like a little person. He’s so expressive.” Diablo headbutted her knee. She smiled at him before looking back to Steve. “I mean, when I met you, you were fully lying to yourself.”

“I wasn’t really, I mean I always knew I like guys, I just never really acted on it.” Diablo came zooming back to him, batting at him, making little yowling noises.

“You didn’t let yourself act on it.”

“It just didn’t really matter. I like girls and don’t wanna get fucking killed for being a queer.” He picked up the screeching cat, holding him up to eye level. “What’s up with you? Do you hate me because you know I’m queer?” Diablo licked his nose. Steve smiled at him. “I’ll take that as a no.”

-

Steve Harrington liked guys, and by the sounds of it, he liked Billy.

Billy had tried to get as much info outta the two, but it was hard when he couldn’t use actual words.

He had thought Steve and Robin had been dating, had scratched at her a few times, only feeling bad when she waxed poetic about Heather Holloway, and Steve called her a useless lesbian.

But Steve was an option, if he ever figured out how in the fuck he was gonna get back to himself.

He ended up sneaking into Steve’s car when he went to work the next day, screaming at him from the backseat, making Steve jump and swerve a little, swearing as he pulled Billy into his lap.

He brought Billy into work with him, placing him in a cardboard box under the counter so he could reach down and scratch his ears.

“Why’d you bring the little demon?” Robin’s hand was rubbing at his neck.

“He snuck into my car at started fucking screaming at me.” Robin laughed.

“What a little hellbeast.”

Billy sat curled in the box, quiet as he listened to Steve work. He was asleep when the box started shifting.

“What the fuck is this cat doing here?” Billy blinked up to see Keith, Steve’s jackass boss.

“Shit, sorry Keith, He’s mine. He followed me to work today.”

“Jesus, Harrington. You can’t bring your pets in here.” He went to get Billy out of the box. Billy swiped at him, scratching his wrist. “Fuck,  get your asshole cat outta here.” Steve reached in with gentle hands, picking up Billy, hissing and spitting.

“I’m sorry, Keith-”

“Just get out, Harrington. I am so fucking close to firing you.” Billy went still.

Steve rushed out to his car, placing Billy in the passenger seat as he pulled out. Billy made a little noise at him, trying to get in his lap. Steve pushed him away.

“I am hanging on by a fucking thread with Keith. You can’t do that shit.” Billy made a sad sound. Steve sniffed.

“I just, I’m so shit at everything. Robin got me that job, and I almost ruin it all the goddamn time. It’s pretty much the best I can fucking get.” Steve let Billy slowly climb into his lap.

“And just, if I lose this job my dad’ll kick me out, and then I’m really fucked.” Billy pressed his head into Steve’s stomach, nuzzling into him. “Thanks for that. You’re kinda sweet sometimes.” Billy meowed back at him.

-

Steve had another nightmare that night, had curled around Billy and cried into his fur.

Billy had licked softly at his cheeks. The tears there. He wanted Steve to feel safe and happy.

These few weeks living with him, he had learned so much about Steve Harrington, learned that he was weird and sweet and lonely and sad and loud and so much more than Billy ever thought he’d be.

He had come to really care about Steve, maybe even, maybe even love him-

His vision went out again. He couldn’t feel his body anymore as his mind shorted out. His ears were buzzing when he came back to himself, breathing heavily.

“Um, what?” He turned over, saw Steve looking at him with huge eyes. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, Pretty Boy. I was the cat.” Steve shot outta bed.

“What the fuck is going on? What do you mean you were the cat? Why are you naked?” Billy looked down, putting a pillow over his dick.

“I was an asshole to this girl, and she apparently, apparently like cursed me or something, to be a cat. So I was the cat. I was Diablo.”

“And you, were you like, aware of everything that happened while you were a cat?” His face was red, no doubt thinking about all the little things he had shared about himself in the time.

“Oh yeah, Stevie. I know you pretty well now.” Steve flushed even more. “Know you have a crush on me.”

“I, I do not have a, a crush on you.” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Would you quit lying to me if I told you I had a crush on you?” Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Uh, maybe. If you, if you said it again.”

Billy stood up, slinking towards Steve, smirking As Steve looked panicked, eyes darting anywhere that wasn’t Billy.

He pulled Steve’s hips, bringing their bodies flush together. He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw.

“I’ve got a big fucking crush on you, Pretty Boy.”

Steve lunged, connecting their lips together.

“God, me too. I’m, I like you a lot.” He sighed into their kiss, his arms around Billy’s shoulders.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Also saw you're doing requests so yay!!. Any chance of jercy bakery au? Love your work sm hope you have a great day ☺☺

My Darling Anon how dare you make me fall more in love with Jercy???????? I squealed when i saw this and then promptly started writing even though i should be studying for my (ironically) Greek Mythology test.

i hope you love it because if i fail at least i know it’ll be worth it :) Also this was honestly supposed to be a quick drabble and it somehow ended up as 1,5K+ words so??? #isanyonesurprisedthough

Masterlist

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

Jason Grace smiled as the birds beside his head chirped and then swiped his phone to cut off the amusing sound. His fiery friend, and co-worker thought it was hilarious to steal his phone and change his alarm tone every few weeks. Usually it was something inane and silly like a cartoon laugh track or just a repeating “It’s time to get up BakerBoi” that gets increasingly louder. He had arrived to work with a scowl on his face only to see the shit-eating grin of Leo Valdez waiting at the door.

Now Jason stumbles out of bed, letting his limbs loosen as he pads softly to the bathroom, feeling cool tile and a winter breeze on his exposed skin. He loves mornings like this, when the world isn’t quite awake, and the sky hasn’t decided what colour it wants to be for the day. He knows in is baker’s bones that it’ll be cold and rainy, but he has time for a morning jog before the world starts crying.

“Good morning boss,” A bright eyed, fidgeting Leo greets as he steps into the bakery.

Jason had been there at seven thirty, pulling down the café chairs and cleaning the counters. He already had a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies and about three different types of muffins in the oven. The bread was waiting for the busy hands of Leo and Hazel who somehow always seemed to make heavenly fluffed, soft rolls and the deliciously crusty baguettes. Hazel jokes that it’s the New Orleans blood that flows through her veins. They’re all half inclined to agree.

“Morning Valdez, I like the alarm this week.” He tosses a grin over his shoulder before going back to his icing ritual. Mix, taste, mix, ice.

“I figured you would old man. Even though i much prefer my ASMR food audio from last week. What’s the specialty today?”

“We need to get beignets out and the pain au chocolats before the breakfast crowd. Also the fruit stuffed pastry twists and the honey bread have to be prepped before we open so we can bring them out hot in time for the brunch crowd. Specialty today is a new thing I’ve been working on. Blue blondie doughnuts with Oreo cream filling and sugar glaze.”

“Gods boss, you tryna give people heart failure?”

“Just trying to insert some sweetness into the world,” He winked.

Before Leo could give an undoubted snarky reply a bubbly head of dark brown curls and glittering eyes popped around the door.

“Goooood morning everyone,”

Jason couldn’t help the smile that graced his face at her cheeriness, “Hello Miss Levesque, glad to see a prettier face around here,”

Leo made a strangled noise of indignation from the other side of the kitchen but didn’t get the chance to voice his offense before the last member of their little group walked in.

“Ah there you are Miss McLean, I do wonder how you arrive with Hazel and still manage to get in after her.”

She gave him an exasperated look, “I have to say goodbye to my girlfriend before I come in Boss. You’re the one who banned couple calls in the bakery.”

“Well maybe if we didn’t have to hear you and Annabeth explicitly planning your night’s activities I wouldn’t have had to do that.”

Piper just rolled her eyes and went to grab her apron and a cloth to wipe down the tables.

"Everyone ready?" He asked, from the door of the kitchen an hour later.

"Ready for the storm boss," They all yelled back, as they did each morning.

"Then let's roll like thunder," He grinned, flinging the doors to Ambrosia Bakery open.

"Oh thank the heavens, I could smell the goodness from here and it was a struggle to keep the drool in," One Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano breathed in deep.

"Good morning my favourite customer," Leo smirked from behind the counter.

"Jason tell your bread boy to stand down before I make him,"

"Is that an invitation?" Dark eyebrows wiggled in amusement.

"That is a threat," She growled.

"Well mark me down as scared and h—"

"Valdez I swear if you finish that sentence I'm putting you on wash-up duty for the next week."

A faint "you got it boss" followed Jason into the kitchen, where he allowed himself to smile. It was an ongoing amusement that Leo flirted with Reyna and in return she came up with increasingly terrifying threats.

"Jason, your sister is here to see you" Hazel said, gently shoving him out the way so she could take over rolling the pastry.

"Get the doughnuts ready for the fryer I'll be back soon, thank you!"

He maneuvered around a blushing Leo who had icing on his nose and a suspicious lipstick stain on his cheek, finally making his way to the confectioners stand.

"What's up loser?" He said by way of greeting.

"Hey you're only allowed to call me that if you come baring nice things." Thalia Grace frowned.

"I am nice things," He pouted.

"Not even on your best day." She snorted, "I want to know if you're coming to the gala this weekend. I need a date to steal extra bread-sticks for me."

"Why can't I just make you bread-sticks and we can sit in your lounge and watch bad reality TV?" He groaned

"Because I have to show face or the sponsors aren't going to sponsor. Besides you need a night out. You're gonna start smelling like bread if you don't take a break."

"It's insulting that you think I wouldn't want to smell like breadsticks."

She laughed at, that ruffling his hair, "Just be ready by seven. You better be wearing a suit."

And with that his sister had grabbed her daily croissant and cappuccino and vanished into the drizzling day.

Before he could make it back to his safe haven beside the ovens and marbled counter-tops a flash of black hair caught his eye.

Turning around he couldn't contain the grin that tugged at his lips; standing by the counter already staring intently at the newest creation was Jason's favourite customer.

"Hello Percy Jackson,"

"Jason," A dazzling smile revealed pearl white teeth and the tiniest dimple on a cheek the color of rich toffee.

"I see you've already found Neptune's Tridoughnut,"

A bright laugh escaped a wickedly beautiful mouth, "Oh I love that. How'd you come up with that one?"

Jason smiled softly, debating whether to tell the owner of the 5-Oceans Conservation Company that he was the muse behind all of his latest creations, hence the variations of green and blue.

Instead, as he did every time Percy asked, he lied, "My sister went to an opening ceremony for a new exhibit at the Education center all about Mythology so I thought I’d offer my services and well, they were a hit."

Piper who was walking past at that exact moment coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Liar" but with a pointed glare she disappeared behind the counter.

"That sounds great. Guess I'll have to recruit you for all my functions," He winked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

Jason cursed his pale cheeks and hoped the blush he now sported wasn't too noticeable, "What can I get you besides a specialty doughnut?"

"Can I get one banana and walnut muffin, a dozen chic chips, and I'm gonna go see mom this afternoon so maybe a couple of caramel pastry twists and some blueberry muffins?"

"Sure. I guess Estelle is off her carrot cake faze?" He laughed, remembering how Percy had to stop at the bakery twice a week to grab carrot and pecan mini cakes just for his little sister.

"Ugh she's onto wanting fruit in absolutely everything now so my mom has been frantically buying boxes of peaches, strawberries and apples to cut up and send with her for lunch at school." Green eyes rolled in fake annoyance.

"Well if she likes fruit things maybe she should try the raspberry and orange pastry twists?" He pointed to a display stand piled with various pastries coloured by blackberry jam, apricot pieces, kiwi slices and mango syrup.

"I could kiss you right now!" Percy exclaimed rushing towards the display, unaware that the baker was frozen to the spot.

I could kiss you, could kiss you, kiss you, kiss...

Jason's brain had short-circuited, his neurons too busy having a dance party with his hormones to process the world.

I could kiss you.

A lazy, unconscious smile took over his face as he stood there in the middle of his bakery, arms slack, head lolled, and eyes crinkled.

"Jason?" A faraway voice called.

"Jason? Hello?"

And suddenly a hand was waving in front of his vision trying to get his attention.

He pulled himself out of his reverie, blinking back into existence, "Right yes the pastries"

"Didn’t get enough sleep last night?" Percy teased, slugging him softly in the shoulder.

He snorted at the implication, "Unfortunately I'm a bit of a grandfather. Sleep early, rise early."

"Oh guess you like morning activities then,"

He sputtered, head snapping up to stare into twinkling eyes, "N-no, I just meant—"

"I'm kidding Mr BakerMan," That brilliant, bright laugh again, "I know you're a homebody. Your sister likes to tell me how boring you are."

He huffed at that, "We'll see if she gets her pear tarts this weekend."

"Speaking of this weekend," A sly grin played at Percy's mouth, "Are you coming to the gala?"

"Yea," He sighed, "Thalia says she needs me to steal bread-sticks ."

Sea green eyes widened before Percy burst out laughing. In a matter of moments tears were streaming down his face.

If Jason wasn't so smitten with that gorgeous smile and those mischievous eyes he may have been inclined to laugh too. But Percy Jackson was a vision he half believed only his dreams could conjure.

When the laughter had mostly seized Percy wiped his eyes and managed to gasp, "That sounds exactly like something Thalia would ask. When we worked on the marine life project together she always stole the mints from every CEO’s office because she said they had enough money to buy a mint factory, they could afford to replace a single bowl."

"Yep, her life goal is to end capitalism. I swear if it wasn't for Annabeth, Thalia would be walking into office buildings with a sack like some reverse Santa Claus where she steals the office supplies and fruit bowls."

"Well I can't wait to see you stuffing your pockets with bread-sticks on Saturday so I guess I'll see you then," He gave another dazzling smile.

"Yea, and say hello to little Estelle for me. Tell me how she likes the pastries."

"Don't worry I'm sure I'll be back soon with a long list of request."

"Can't wait." He grinned.

Percy chuckled, "Me neither, see you Friday." And then he was gone.

Oh gods, Jason thought, how am I ever gonna survive Percy in a suit?

***

Spoiler alert past-Jason: you didn't.

[dalgikiss]

Catch-22 // h. iwaizumi

index

part 13

Iwaizumi has only ever been truly mad at you twice in your life. 

The first time was way back in your first year. You had to dig deep into your memories if you wanted to find it, burying it under other things that took precedence in your life like your shoe size, Oikawa’s favorite boba drink (taro milk tea with white pearls), the fact that Hanamaki had to have all his pen caps aligned with the label or else he couldn’t write, the way Iwaizumi liked to eat his cereal (he never drinks the milk left over) and Matsukawa’s least favorite exercise (mountain climbers). 

You can’t remember what it had been about, something so trivial it had slipped your mind entirely but you remembered the look on his face. 

Iwaizumi has many facial expressions when he tries to be scary. There’s the regular one that he has when Oikawa decides to do something dumb and must be reprimanded for it, the one he has to give Kyoutani when he decides to act up and the intimidating one that he uses with the rest of the boys when some idiot decides to make a move on you but the one you saw that day? That one was completely different. This one was…

Dangerous

You know danger when you see it, each part of your body telling you to get out of there when he had loomed over you, pure anger and power emitting from his body. Even at the tender age of 15, Iwaizumi was built bigger than you, taller than you, stronger than you and you knew that you never stood a chance against him. 

You remember being too scared to breathe properly, shallow breaths coming out of your mouth because you were terrified of making the wrong move as you warily watch Iwaizumi seethe with anger in front of you. 

Iwaizumi is not explosive. He does not scream or yell or throw things but he does not shut down either. He stands and waits for you to make a wrong move and then he snaps, like a snake does to a mouse. 

You had never felt more like prey in your life under his gaze. 

You remember your heart thudding too loud in your ears when he moved ever the slightest, flinching out his way as fast as possible. 

You remember forcing an apology out of your too-tight throat and dry mouth and Iwaizumi’s hard stare. 

Do you really think I want to hear your apology?

Sorry, sorry

Shut the fuck up and stop saying sorry, you’re not helping anyone

Memories of that night are hazy and you remember only fragments, pieces of what happened. You remember Iwaizumi’s mom opening the door, yellow light from the hallway spilling into his dim bedroom. You remember the sound of your footsteps on the asphalt as you ran home, fingers clutching your shirt so tightly, you had grown numb. You remember your mom asking why you were crying and then your soft pillow hitting your head when you fell asleep. 

It took you over a month to fully come back to Iwaizumi, even after he had apologized for his behavior, looking like a puppy with his tail in between his legs. You spent most of your time around him like a wounded animal, hiding behind Oikawa or Hanamaki when he was near or just fully leaving the room when it was just you and him alone

When you finally relaxed around Iwaizumi again, he had immediately engulfed you in a hug so hard, it sent the both of you tumbling to the floor. His grip never loosened on your shirt, wrinkling it in his grasp as he whispered apologies into the crook of your neck and swore up and down, cross my heart and hope to die that he would never do it to you again and you believed him because he is not a liar. 

Despite the upholding of his promise and your trust in him, you never forgot the way he looked that night, even when you could no longer remember the details. 

The second time he was angry at you was in the empty classroom of Aoba Johsai after class, later that day

x.

Iwaizumi has made up his mind to try and work things out with Ryuoko, no matter what anyone else had been telling him. 

You should have waited longer

She’s staying away from you to help your relationship

He unconsciously made a face at his memories, pressing his pencil into his paper a bit too hard until the tip broke off. How would they know if you actually liked him or not? 

There’s no point in getting his hopes up for nothing. 

“Iwaizumi, is there something about my notes that you don’t like that you have to make that face?”

He blinked when his literature teacher suddenly loomed within his line of vision. He hears the sound of your soft snickering and the teacher’s bushy eyebrows look like they’re dancing with how much they wiggle. 

He whispers an apology and the teacher walks back up to the front of the room, rapping his desk twice and reminding the students they had an exam coming up so there was no time to be angry at the material.

Although he hates to admit it, the sound of your laughter is always comforting to his ears and his shoulders relax against his better judgement. 

x.

His hand encircles her wrist after classes end, gently pulling Ryuoko into the stairwell where students had begun racing down to go home or to clubs. 

The both of them wait, Ryuoko’s nails tapping against her phone screen while Iwaizumi grips the phone in his pocket a little too hard. 

When the sounds inside the school begin to quiet down until there’s only muffled laughter coming from inside the classrooms and coaches barking out instructions from the fields outside that float in through the open windows, Ryuoko finally looks up. 

“Do you have an answer for me?” 

Her tone is condescending almost, as though she was scolding a child. Iwaizumi bites back the wave of irritation at this, reminding himself of what he had initially come to do.

“I do but-”

“If you’re choosing me, there’s no ‘buts’. This conversation is over if you choose your friends”

Ryuoko turns to walk away. Panic rises in Iwaizumi’s throat and he throws himself in front of her, effectively cutting off her getaway.

“Please listen to what I have to say” 

She regards him for a few moments, brown eyes honing in on every detail of his face before taking a step back. “Okay, so talk”

The speech that Iwaizumi had so carefully prepared in class instead of taking notes (he reminded himself he needed to ask a classmate for their copy) died on his tongue when he looked up to meet her eyes. 

“Look I-, I just-, can’t I still hang out with my friends and still be with you?” He rubbed his knuckles underneath his thumb, searching for the right words to say. “I’ve always done everything you’ve asked and a relationship is about two people who trust each other. Don’t you trust me enough to let me hang out with my friends and be with you?”

Feeling a bit more confident in himself, Iwaizumi continued on. “I always do my best so you can trust me and-”

“So you choose your friends?”

Iwaizumi stared at Ryuoko with an astonished look on his face. Did she just ignore everything he said? 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Ryuoko, did you just not hear anything I was saying?” Iwaizumi spluttered, extremely confused at the turn of events. The interaction could almost be considered comedic, if he was an outsider looking in. 

“What I heard was you giving me a long winded explanation over you choosing your friends over me”

“I didn’t even say that! I just wanted to tell you that even though you’re my girlfriend-” he put extra emphasis on the word ‘girlfriend’ in hopes she’d understand what he was trying to say, “- they’re still my friends and that’s all they are”

It almost seems like Ryuoko is on board with Iwaizumi, his little rant beginning to sway her and he internally praises himself until he sees her gaze harden. 

“And what about [surname]? You won’t hang out with her anymore?”

Ah yes, the age old argument was making its comeback. 

“She’s my friend” Iwaizumi almost yells in the empty staircase, his frustration getting the best of him “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not when you’re around her!”

“What does that even mean?” 

Ryuoko took a step closer to him, a glossy nail poking into his blazer. “You honestly can’t tell me that you don’t treat her differently from the rest of your friends” 

His argument dies on his tongue when she says that and she smiles, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You can’t even argue against that”

“Like I said before, choose me or your friends. Let me know when you’ve finally given up on her”

She might as well have just pulled back and thrown a punch in Iwaizumi’s face by saying those words. He stands there in shock even when she walks away from him, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. 

x.

You frantically searched your bag for your keys, haphazardly throwing the contents of your bag onto the steps you were sitting on. Oikawa narrowly avoided a pencil flung in his direction, letting out a yelp of surprise and throwing himself onto Matsukawa, who only caught him with a grunt. 

“Cutie-chan! Watch where you’re throwing your stuff!”

You mumble an apology, shaking your bag in hopes your keys would magically fall out, despite you having already thrown all your belongings out onto the floor. Much to your dismay, only a few pieces of ripped up papers and torn gum wrappers fell out. 

“Looking for something?” Hanamaki asked, an eyebrow raised at the mess you had made around them.

“I can’t find my keys” You groan, throwing your head back and Hanamaki shoots forward so you crash your head onto his palm and not onto the stair behind you. “I’m so screwed if I lose them again! I am not climbing in through the window again”

“Where are your parents?” Hanamaki asks, wrinkling his nose when his hand was beginning to go numb. You smiled sheepishly, pushing yourself back up into a sitting position.

“Went out for a trip”

“Your brother?” 

You sigh, beginning to collect your belongings around you. “He’s at some judo tournament in Tokyo. I’m supposed to meet up with them after my entrance exam”

You crammed the rest of your belongings into various pockets, thanking Oikawa who had silently begun handing you the objects that were just out of reach. Matsukawa watched as you stuffed loose papers and stray pens into your bag, shaking his head silently. “No wonder you can’t find anything”

Crumpling up a piece of paper, you threw it at him, silently cursing your horrible aim when it missed him by a mile. “Be quiet”

“Did you check your classroom? You might’ve dropped it” Hanamaki says, watching you pout animatedly, lower lip jutting out and trembling ever the slightest as you tried to formulate a plan to get back into your house. 

You stare at him blankly. Hanamaki wonders if you‘ve been hit in the head with a volleyball lately with how slow your reactions were. 

“Oh yeah. I’ll go do that now” 

You stood up from the step, Hanamaki sitting up slightly to help you brush away the dirt that had accumulated on the backs of your legs. Hanamaki and Matsukawa wave goodbye, Matsukawa’s hand holding onto the back of Oikawa’s shirt as he tries to go with you, screaming something about it being unsafe to go anywhere alone “you’re too cute for them! You need to be protected- Matsukawa let me go, you’re just going to send [name]-chan to their death like this?”

You tell yourself he’s being overdramatic, just like usual and wave away your friends who promise they’ll still be here waiting for you to come back but there’s this unnerving feeling that’s eating away at your stomach that tells you to take him.

You tell yourself you’re being paranoid, you only need to get your keys and come back. It shouldn’t take anymore than a few minutes. With that, you push open the doors to the school building and ascend up the staircase.

[smallersocksx]

Pokemon Journeys Episode 74 (Ramblings/Review)

Introduction/Background:

I'll be honest I haven't been watching the series as actively since episode 65. That's because the episodic formula they chose to use for the series was honestly starting to grate on me and if you read my post on my issues with the Pokémon Journeys anime. I did bring up one of my issues being the episodic formula.

As time grew on through my issue with the episodic formula and some of the other issues of the series begun to annoy me even more so I needed to take a break. When they announced Dawn would be making an appearance, I knew I had to watch (the one instance where the episodic formula kind of worked in my favour). As Diamond and Pearl was my first game, my favourite anime series and had some of the best story-telling in my opinion. In comparison to Journeys, I think my main issue with the series is the lack of direction and not knowing where the story is going.

That element of surprise might be great for some people and if you’re enjoying the series that’s great too. Personally, I love the story-telling aspect of the Pokémon anime and watching these characters go on their own personal journeys. This is why watching a story-driven series, I want that level of clarity and direction provided by a linear narrative. This is why the episodic formula was starting to grate on me, Journeys is great when they are focusing on furthering a character’s goal or development, my issue lies with the huge gap in between which later results in a huge pacing issue that could easily be resolved if they gave time for certain aspects to be fleshed out more.

However, that isn’t to say Journeys is a bad series. I’ve certainly enjoyed a lot of the episodes and the slice of life aspect the series provides in comparison to earlier series. On the other hand, given that the series is meant to be focusing on travel that can be construed as a negative point as well.

And I've realised as I'm writing this, this may come across as a rant about the series rather than discussing the episode. So, if you're still reading thank you ^o^ But I thought it was necessary to give some background to explain how my opinions have been formed and if you recommend that I re-visit some episodes that’s great too!

So far, I've only seen the episode with some really poor subtitles. So, if I've misinterpreted a scene then you can let me know. But I think I got the gist of most of the episode. If you’ve read some of my other posts, I always try to break down these reviews/ramblings.

The Beginning:

I feel as though this episode is going to end up drawing similarities to the DP episode Sleepless in Pre-Battle. In which, Darkrai causes nightmares and Cresselia is unable to help the town for some reason, I can’t remember the exact reason in the original episode although in this case, it’s obvious as we see Team Rocket’s Matori Matrix attack and injure Cresselia. This sets up, the boys’ side of this DP mini-arc in which they’ll investigate the Darkrai side of the problem and something I greatly appreciated ASH! REFERENCED! HIS! BATTLE! WITH! DARKRAI!!! It was something I greatly appreciated and kind of wished Journeys took the time to reference some of Ash’s other achievements and experiences more often. Give him more of a mentor-ish role like he was to May back in AG. 

Rather than Chloe joining the boys in Sinnoh, originally, she was meant to be going on a trip with her family as the summer holidays had begun. However, those plans immediately went down the gutter as both her parents had work and her brother was joining his friend at summer camp (this is going by really horrible subtitles so I may be entirely wrong). I honestly don’t know if Chloe went to Sinnoh intending to join up with Ash and Goh or just going on a trip by herself. But I really liked the call back to Following a Maiden’s Voyage in which Chloe had packed too much the same as Dawn and her Mum ended up giving her a more appropriate-sized backpack. I think there might have been a Sword and Shield reference in there as well because at the beginning of the game the Mum says the backpack, she gives the player was the one she used for her journey and I think Chloe’s Mum said something amongst those lines. I don’t know I might be grasping at straws.

I loved all the Sinnoh/DP references earlier in the episode and to be honest I was focusing more on the Dawn and Chloe side of the episode rather than the boys (sorry Ash and Goh).

Chloe and Dawn:

Now I’ll be honest, I love Chloe for me personally she’s one of the stronger aspects of the Journeys series. However, in this episode, she annoyed me a little bit. From my point of view, one of the more subtle ways Chloe has developed after catching Eevee was that she learnt to relax and embrace being a kid primarily because of Eevee. This development was highlighted in the Glimwood Tangle episode where Chloe ended up playing with the group of Impidimp. If it had been Chloe from 20 or even 30 episodes before she may have handled that situation completely differently. Whereas, as of late she’s learnt to relax and have fun which at times was something I could have done when I was her age. 

Anyways, I’m going on a tangent once again. I just thought the whole argument with Dawn was rather pointless, I didn’t understand the need to create any conflict when they were getting on perfectly well beforehand. That was kind of my biggest gripe on the girls’ side of the episode. 

On the other hand, they also set up a good opportunity for Chloe to grow which I kind of hope they take. Another issue, I’ve been having with the Journeys anime is that they set up some great plot lines or potential development and fall through on delivery or never act on it. One aspect I loved about episode 63, was that they were setting up an interesting way for Chloe and Eevee to develop or find a goal by meeting other trainers that own an Eeveelution and learn why they chose that particular form. They could have even set up Ash getting in contact with May or Serena to talk to Chloe about Glaceon and Sylveon. But the writers never followed up on the potential storyline after episode 63, which is so frustrating.

This is why I’m hoping with Dawn’s influence Chloe actively begins to at least try things out to learn what is a good fit for her. This was an issue with Serena as well, before discovering Pokémon Performing, she didn’t really actively try out other things like battling as much. Even, Ash gave Contests a go and ended up developing some of his best strategies from those experiences such as the Counter Shield and the Ice Aqua Jet. Considering, Pokémon is an anime targeted towards children, it would be a good message to send, to at least try something once rather than not trying at all.

Climax:

Following their (unnecessary) argument and battle with a sleep-deprived Rhydon, Chloe and Dawn come across the injured Cresselia from the beginning of the episode. Going back to the Rhydon, in the original Darkrai film they did expand on Darkrai causing Pokémon to fall asleep and have nightmares but I can’t recall if the Pokémon were affected in Sleepless Pre-Battle. It was an interesting and small touch that I liked about the episode (also poor Rhydon).

The preview for the next episode shows Chloe calming Cresselia or at least gaining Cresselia’s trust, and it made me think again this might be me just grasping at straws. But perhaps Chloe has some sort of affinity with Psychic-type Pokémon because we had that whole weird vision aspect (that was again never addressed) in the Glimwood Tangle episode where Chloe had that vision of Galarian Ponyta and Rapidash. I don’t know, that’s a theory I just developed that probably won’t pan out.

Conclusion:

All in all, it was a decent episode to come back into for Journeys. If I’m honest if they were promoting the DP remakes, I’m surprised they didn’t try to do anything that focused on the Creation Trio rather than the Lunar Duo however the Creation Trio did play a huge role in the DP films and Dialga and Palkia in the original anime so perhaps they wanted to give more spotlight on the Lunar Duo or even hint at Tobias’ return with Darkrai? 

If I’m completely honest I’m concerned about the pacing for the next episode as this arc is only meant to be two episodes, this episode did do its job of setting things up. In my opinion, it could have been faster in some areas, they could have even shown a Contest in this episode and have Dawn and Chloe meet in that way. Given in the next episode the two groups will meet up and attempt to defend Cresselia from Team Rocket and I don’t think they’ll have much time to show off anything Contest-related which is a shame because Contests were my absolute favourite aspect of the games and anime. 

If this were a three-episode arc maybe they could have used this episode to focus on Chloe and Dawn, next episode focuses more on Ash and Goh finding Darkrai have the groups meet up and then the third episode half-battling and half showing off contests. I don’t know this is just me throwing some ideas out there. As I think Journeys just has a huge issue with pacing for some reason and this episode was sort of slow in some areas and as I mentioned I’m worried the next episode is going to be really rushed.

But overall, it was a decent episode and I’m hoping we’ll get to see the rest of Dawn’s team next episode as I love her Pokémon to bits. Also, Pikachu and Buneary reunion, please!!!

(And I may watch this episode again with proper subtitles)

[fanfoolishness]

And the Crickets Singing

For @dr-harleen-quinzell who suggested Greg and Pearl and stars! Set the night after the episode “Steven’s Birthday.”

***

Crickets chirruped in the blue dark of an August night, their songs a delicate symphony.  Pearl had always appreciated them and their intricate music. Endless summers long ago she and Rose had listened to them together, debating on if the insects’ music contained language or meaning.  Ultimately Rose had decided that the existence of their song was meaning enough. Pearl smiled sadly at the memory. It was Rose all over.

She gazed out at the open space beyond the barn, spying Steven laughing with Connie and Amethyst, Garnet watching approvingly in the distance.  She was grateful Steven was Steven once again. His brief regression yesterday into an infant had been terrifying for all of them, but in typical Steven fashion, he seemed to have shrugged it off.  How did he do it? How did he move past these things so quickly? She wished she knew how to ask him.

She realized there was someone missing.  She traced a perimeter around the barn and found Greg sitting on the roof of his van, looking up at the night sky.  She hesitated, then tapped a gentle knock on the hood.

“Are you all right, Greg?” she asked.

Greg sat up, startled.  “Uh, yeah, yeah. I just needed a minute.”  He swung his legs over the side of the van towards her, but couldn’t seem to meet her eyes.  She immediately regretted having come up to him. Amethyst or Garnet should talk to him instead.  Still, though, she was here now.  

“We’re all glad Steven is back to normal,” Pearl tried.  She crossed her arms, looking at her feet. “He had us all so worried.”

Greg chuckled a little.  “Honestly I wasn’t sure I could do the baby years again.  Steven was a really good baby, but they were still exhausting, and I’m not getting any younger.  Unlike my son, apparently.” He paused. “Want to come up? There’s room. You can see the stars a little better up here.”

Pearl flushed, glad it was dark.  She debated telling him goodbye and returning to the others.  But she looked up at his face, seeing worry and unease written in the set of his mouth and the lines between his brows.

“I do miss the stars,” she said softly, climbing up on top of the roof and sitting down near him.  Her feet swayed out and in, creating a gentle aimless rhythm. “At the temple sometimes I like to watch them from the shore.  I think Rose thought it was foolish of me. She was so glad to be away from them, and here on Earth instead.”

“She never thought you were foolish,” said Greg.  He folded his hands in his lap. Moonlight edged his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, glinting off his head and his graying hair.  “But I know what you mean. She said she loved my songs, but that space wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” He laughed a little. “She didn’t even understand that expression at first.  She thought it was something to do with broken eggs.”

Pearl giggled before she could help herself.  “Yes, she always went for the silliest explanation possible, didn’t she?”  But thinking of Rose was still so painful. Her memory was an agony throbbing beneath the joys and triumphs, tainted by a jealousy that shamed her, and Pearl fell silent.

“Sometimes I don’t know what we were thinking,” said Greg in a voice so soft she almost didn’t hear him.  She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He had taken his gaze from the stars and back to Steven, spinning in circles with Connie and Amethyst.  Steven was the first to fall down, laughing uproariously and holding his stomach with both hands. Amethyst shapeshifted into a ball and rolled circles around him while Connie jumped up and down.  Garnet seemed to be keeping score in their game.

“What do you mean?”

“How fair were we to Steven, really?”  Greg rested his head in his hands. “He’s scared Connie’s going to grow up without him, and she’s worried too.  I thought I could help her feel better, human to human, so I told her ‘we’ll have to wait and see.’ I guess Steven overheard me and -- that’s what set this whole shapeshifting thing off.”  He swallowed thickly, sniffing. “What if he lives as long as Gems do? What if he doesn’t grow? Pearl, what if he doesn’t fit with humans or Gems?  Rose and I didn’t even think to worry about stuff like this.  And now she’s not even here --”

Pearl fought back a flash of anger, but greater than that was a wave of grief as fresh as ever.  She stifled a sob. “She wanted him so badly,” she whispered. Tears blurred her vision, and she swiped them away with a trembling hand.  “But we don’t know what will happen to him, either. We just -- we’ve been trying our best.”

“I know,” said Greg.  He rubbed at his nose and cleared his throat.  

For a moment, she saw him again as that young human, brash and reckless, who had stolen Rose away.  But the vision faded, and he was Steven’s father once more, worried for his son.  

“It means a lot to me,” he said.  “That he has you guys to help him.”  

A blush warmed her cheeks unexpectedly.  “Oh, but he looks up to you so much,” said Pearl.  “Remember his terrible picture of you and the guitar?  Clearly he idolizes you.”  

Greg laughed.  “Guitar Dad! Aw, man, I loved that drawing.  He’s such a good kid, Pearl.  That’s why this stuff freaks me out.  He doesn’t deserve it.”

“No,” she agreed sadly, “he doesn’t.”

Greg flopped back on his back, his legs dangling over the side of the van.  Pearl carefully laid down near him, the field of stars above them widening.  

“But that’s growing up,” said Greg.  “That’s what Rose said she loved about humans.  That we change.”

“She changed, too.  More than you know,” Pearl murmured.  The stars shone above her, Homeworld’s system twinkling far beyond them.  “I suppose we all have, here on Earth.” Overhead, a comet streaked across the inky black, alight in blue and white.

“Change is... really hard.  It hurts, sometimes.”

“Sometimes, a great deal.”

The cricket song swelled, a wordless chorus in the summer night, and Pearl smelled green grass, raw earth, a hint of autumn as a promise on the breeze.  She closed her eyes, remembering.

“Thanks, Pearl,” said Greg.  “For listening.”

“Oh!” said Pearl.  “Well, I --

“Dad!  Dad, check this out!  Look what I found!” Steven called.  Greg sat up.

“My fatherly duties await,” Greg chuckled.  The lines of worry between his brows seemed to have faded.  “Thanks again.” He slid off down the hood of the van, brushing himself off.  “All right, kiddo, what have we got here?”

Pearl sat up and watched him go, seeing the way Steven’s face glowed with excitement as Greg approached.  He grabbed his father by the hand and led him to his discovery, Connie and Amethyst trailing behind them.  

At the edge of the clearing Garnet caught her eye.  For a moment they gazed at each other. Then Garnet held out her hand, forming a thumbs-up.

Pearl took a deep breath, a trembling smile spreading across her face.  She held out her own hand, thumb pointing up, and the cricket song was sweet in her ears.

[mermaidmafia-official]

{ PART 3: BLOOD GETS IN YOUR EYE }

yinmei’s outfit ref ^^^ w/ ysa’s ‘non-outfit’ ;D

taglist: @bebemoon​ @vampirkaninchen​ @interluxetumbra​ @blubbingbeautifully​

Yinmei hated vampire parties.

Okay, correction: she hated vampire parties when they involved Lord Greggor. Even Chatham, hideous little thing that he was, had more taste than Lord Greggor.

Costumes? Okay, fine. Blood fountains? Overkill, but fine. Drugged mortals? Way overkill, but again, fine.

But fucking werewolves? Being paraded around in silver chains?

Why? Just - why?

As Nessa would say, Yinmei was “too old for this shit”. Wolves were a nuisance at best, and deadly at worst. In Yinmei’s humble opinion, Lord Greggor’s plans for his party were the stupidest thing she’d heard in a long, long time. Alas, he’d invited the entire Bilitis House, and he was sure to give dear Ysa a ton of unnecessary shit if her beloved ‘Granny Zhang’ didn’t show up.

Yinmei gathered with the rest of the Coven in the garden. Ysa was in a spectacular state of undress, with her metal armor chest wrap being the most coherent piece of clothing in her entire costume. Everything else was wispy and diaphanous; white feathers and pearl harness and gold bands around her arms and thigh. Since she was going as Eros, there was even a quiver of arrows.

Yinmei, for her part, had decided to go as Persephone, as a bit of a joke - she was, after all, the one-eyed Granny Zhang (Nessa would call her ‘old-as-dirt’); a far cry from the youthful spring goddess that ventured into the underworld. Her floor-length gown was pomegranate-red, decorated with pale pink roses, and the sleeves left her shoulders and collarbones exposed. Her hair was loose, as she preferred it, and there was a crown of roses perched atop her head, to match her ruby iris.

Yinmei noted that Popelina was also in the garden with them. Ysabelle had told her about the plan for Poppy in advance; although Yinmei didn’t like the thought of putting any of the Coven near Lord Greggor, she had to agree that Ysa’s plan seemed like it’d be a fittingly educational experience for the younger vampire. Probably.

Thank the stars I’m not the Bloodmother of our Coven. I would have lost my patience with that girl and told her to leave years and years ago, Yinmei thought to herself, as she waited for the others to arrive. 

As usual, Amaelia was right by Ysa’s side, the butterfly wings pinned to her back fluttering in the slight breeze. Yinmei sighed to herself, but did not object.

The entire Coven slipped through the planes and into the other side, which happened to be Lord Gregor’s villa, on an island off the coast of Italy. Yinmei tensed, almost immediately, keeping her eyes alert. There was nothing about Lord Greggor that she could honestly say she didn’t hate.

It wasn’t long before they were at the heart of the villa. Some of the other members of their Coven started slipping away, drawn to the drugged mortals and the fountains of blood, but Yinmei stayed by Ysa’s side, both out of habit and out of a desire to keep her friend within her line of sight. 

And, for all that Yinmei didn’t particularly like the fact that Ysa was so infatuated with Amaelia - especially in a time like this - the last thing she wanted was for her friend to be, well, sad. Maybe it was unnecessary, for Yinmei to be so concerned about keeping Amaelia safe when the powerful Bloodmother of the Bilitis House was watching over her too, but as she had always liked to say: better safe than sorry.

And of course, when Ysa pulled Poppy away to go speak with Greggor, it fell to Yinmei to babysit. As always. Yinmei grimaced, but agreed to watch over Amaelia for the time-being.

“Come,” she said brusquely, and took hold of the younger vampire’s wrist. Yinmei was fairly certain that Ysa would want Amaelia far, far away from Lord Greggor, and so she pulled Amaelia along with her until they were near the entrance of the banquet hall, keeping an ironclad grip on Amaelia’s wrist.

“Sit,” she told her, and pointed at one of the only empty chairs. She let go of Amaelia’s wrist to put a hand on her shoulder.

The awful, screeching string ensemble was distracting, as was the smell of spilt blood and hundreds of raving-mad mortals alike (and the vampires who had chosen the perverse hysteria of the banquet hall to gorge themselves on the drugged humans), but Yinmei kept her wits about her. Something felt...off, itching at the back of her mind. It was beyond just being in Greggor’s home, and the bizarre, hellish “entertainment”, and the knowledge that there were (prisoner) wolves around. Something felt off, but strangely, frighteningly…

...familiar?

Yinmei’s blood ran cold.

She instinctively tightened her grip on Amaelia’s shoulder, her nails digging into the freckled vampire’s flesh so hard that Amaelia hissed in pain.

Her Creator was here, at the party. She could feel it.

And, she knew, he could feel her there, too.

Yinmei felt lightheaded. Her missing eye burned, with the ghost of a pain from two millennia ago. He was here, at Lord Greggor’s villa. How? How was he even still standing, after she cut him to pieces and burned the remains?

Stars floated through her vision, and some time later she felt Amaelia wriggle out of her grip. Yinmei let her go.

She didn’t know how long she was like that, dizzy and disoriented, suddenly thrown into the past - he’d liked her feet, her tiny feet that she spent her childhood binding over and over and over again, and he’d thought her so beautiful that he just had to keep a part of her for himself, and heavens above, it’d hurt, it’d hurt, it’d hurt, it’d hurt more than anything else in her long, long life - but the smell of wolves brought her back to the present, and Yinmei finally registered that Amaelia was gone.

Shit. Yinmei ignored the wolves, for now, frantically scanning the crowd for the younger vampire. When she caught sight of her dancing with one of the mortals, well within Ysabelle’s line of vision, she breathed out a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the wolves being led in silver chains through the hall, tuning out the sound of Greggor’s booming voice grating in her ears.

Greggor’s brides chained them outside, in the courtyard. Yinmei was...uneasy. She didn’t like the way that anything was going, tonight.

I’d best find Ysabelle, she thought to herself, if anything, I still need to talk to her about the wolf at Nessa’s race.

And so Yinmei ignored the itching in her mind that was growing increasingly insistent and pushed herself away from the wall, openly levitating across the floor to keep her trailing skirts from being dirtied by the gore that was littered everywhere.

Greggor’s beady eyes flickered over to her, as she approached. Yinmei plastered a smile onto her face as they went through the usual pleasantries. “Lord Greggor,” she said, through gritted teeth, “I hate to interrupt, but I do think that I am owed at least one dance with my dear Ysabelle.” 

Greggor laughed, and Yinmei tried not to grimace at the sight. He was the most obese thing she’d ever laid eyes on, and she was fairly certain that if he were a mortal, he would have died of heart failure by now. “Lady Zhang. A pleasure, as always. I hope you have enjoyed the party so far,” he said, and then let them go.

“Why did we have to come again?” Yinmei muttered sourly to Ysabelle, once they were a sufficient distance away. “I don’t like anything about this.”

“I wanted to give Lia some fresh air,” Ysa replied. “I thought it would be a safe diversion, but...I am beginning to share your feelings. The Wolves....” 

Yinmei’s glance flitted in the direction of Amaelia, who was now drinking from the mortal she’d started dancing with. Besides the youngest of the bunch, she couldn’t find any of the other vampires in their Coven within their immediate vicinity. 

(Well. Besides Poppy, of course, who was still hand-feeding Greggor chunks of...gore. But, moving on).

Once they had moved to a spot that kept Amaelia well within their field of view, Yinmei held up her hand, a small smile ghosting over her face. “Shall we?”

Ysabelle hummed playfully and took Yinmei’s hand. They fell into step together, easily. Wistfully, Ysa said, “I recall dancing with you like this long ago- Versailles in spring, I think. At a ball like this one, but...I think there was less blood...definitely more clothes.” 

Yinmei laughed fondly, remembering. “Less blood, more clothes,” she agreed, still smiling faintly. “Better music, too,” her eyebrow twitching as a particularly high-pitched note pierced her eardrums. 

She wrinkled her nose. “And not as many dogs around.” Ysa lifted her fingers to delicately touch Yinmei’s throat, then her chin. Yinmei hummed. “Oh, my friend,” Ysa sighed, and then dipped her head to lay her forehead against Yinmei’s shoulder. Yinmei shifted slightly to accommodate her. 

Ysa’s voice was still strangely wistful. “Why does it feel like everything is coming to a close?” 

Yinmei pressed her closer, lightly, and gently ran her fingers through her hair. “Well,” she said, after a moment, “even if the world is ending, I’ll be here.”

And even as she said the words, the itching at the back of her mind reminded her that she would have to deal with him, eventually. She could only hope that it could wait until after the entire thing with the Wolves was over.

Yinmei was quiet for a few minutes, before she murmured, “there’s something you should know, actually. It’s about Nessa.”

Ysa lifted her head, her eyes still half-lidded and elsewhere. “Go on.” 

“There was a Wolf,” Yinmei said, “at her race. Nessa let him participate. I was too far away to realize he was there until after the race had started.”

She paused. “Nessa looked fine, afterwards. And the Wolf was gone. She said that she wouldn’t do it again, but - well. You know her track record.”

Ysa looked up, seemingly summoning strength into her body. “Yet another willful child to worry after,” she muttered. “Nessa and Poppy… they’re going to be the second death of me.” 

Yinmei smiled wryly. “I can only imagine,” she replied as they spun around. “Poppy...you think this’ll get her to change?” And she tilted her head in Lord Greggor’s direction.

The other woman was silent a while, watching Poppy as she grudgingly served Lord Greggor. Then: “I told myself that it might, initially, but it won’t. I think...I may have done this for my own selfish pleasure.” 

Yinmei hummed softly. “I don’t know how you stand her,” she said, matter-of-factly. “She’s proven herself to be very, ah, inconsiderate too many times by now.”

“Devil take her,” Ysa pleaded with the villa floor. “I am attached to her as I am with them all, Zhang. What can I do? I could send her away, but I would certainly hate myself for it. Like it or not, we are the only home she has… What would you do then?” 

Yinmei stroked her thumb over Ysa’s cheekbone in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. “Me, personally? I would have sent her away long ago.” A wry smile twisted over her lips. “But I suppose that’s why I’ve never wanted to be the Bloodmother of a Coven the way that you are.”

They were quiet, for the rest of the song. 

It was a short while later when the itching at the back of her mind - which had subsided, temporarily - started up again. Yinmei ignored it, ignored the possibility of her Creator even being alive, determined to wait until at least after the party was over and they were away from all the Wolves to think about the impending confrontation.

She would deal with it. Later.

---

‘Later’ came much, much sooner than Yinmei anticipated. After Amare made her grand entrance (!!!), Yinmei stayed close to Ysa, and so she was with Ysa when she felt her Creator testing the mental connection that still somehow existed between them, between the Creator and his creation.

Yinmei flinched, openly, at the cold encroaching into her mind. Ysa caught the movement and turned to face her, brow furrowed.

The music was too loud. Yinmei remembered that spring in Versailles, Ysabelle openly defying the fashions of the time and leaving her hair long and loose, like it was right now. Yinmei had worn a white gown, with yards and yards of embroidered silk, hemmed with delicate lace.

“Ysabelle,” Yinmei breathed, and Ysa met her one-eyed gaze.

And then the Wolves came.

---

Later, after all the chaos was settled, after Yinmei had completely forgotten about her Creator - for the time being - the entire Coven was gathered in the garden, again. 

Amaelia was glued to Ysabelle’s side, trembling, blood sprinkled across her delicate butterfly wings like rose petals. Yinmei stood on the other side of Ysabelle, no worse for wear, though she’d lost her flower crown in the ensuing battle and she would probably never be able to wash the gore out of her long skirts. Angelika was three shades paler than usual (frankly, Yinmei hadn’t thought that possible, yet here they were), and Amare...well, Yinmei didn’t know what to make of Amare.

It was Zammurad who finally broke the silence.

“Where’s Poppy?”

[itshansolo]

My review of The Rise of Skywalker

Spoilers aplenty under the cut

I can fully acknowledge that my opinion on this movie is heavily influenced by what I care about in Star Wars. Han and Leia are my favorite characters and I just wanted to feel satisfied with how they ended up. Was it ideal? No. But given the choices made at the beginning of this trilogy, it could have been worse. Number one on the list to satisfy me was the redemption of their son. I had little doubt that Ben would turn back to the light, but I wanted it to be meaningful as well. Falling down a pit never to be seen again was definitely not it. His final act was beautiful and selfless and Adam Driver sold the shit out of it. What a fantastic actor. He did the most with few lines and his entire demeanor changed when Ben left the dark side. A moment that I haven’t seen many people refer to was when he said to Rey “You can’t go back to my mother. Neither can I”. His voice was choked up. In the beginning of the movie, when he touches Vader’s helmet and interferes with Rey’s training, you can see that the visions of Han’s death shook him up and the change in Adam’s facial expression was incredible. The scene with Ben and Han was everything I ever wanted since The Force Awakens. The main reason why people seemed reluctant to accept his redemption was because he killed his father and that baffled me. Han would want him to be redeemed! Both text and subtext showed that he deeply regretted what he did. So yeah. I’m very glad that scene was there. Ben loved his father. Period. So let’s address the elephant in the room. Reylo. It’s no secret that my preferred scenario was for them to be siblings. Back in 2016, I wrote 40 pages on why it could and should happen. But it didn’t and I got over that two years ago. Though I never shipped them per se, I thought there was undeniable chemistry and I never quite got all the pearl-clutching over the concept. It’s fake and in space after all. Everything about them in this movie made me feel things, in no small part thanks to Adam and Daisy’s phenomenal acting. I understand why Reylos wanted Ben to live, but let’s be real. Redemption followed by a life of atonement, though immensely interesting, requires way more time to be told as a story and they were trying to wrap things up. Not to mention it’s the definitive way to bring closure to the Skywalkers, making sure that no future writers will do anything else with the members of the family. Don’t get me wrong, the powers that be didn’t HAVE to end the Skywalker story, but it’s what they wanted. I appreciate that Leia played a role in Ben’s redemption (again, phenomenal acting from Adam), but I don’t quite like how she died. It seemed random. Why did she decide to reach out to him all of a sudden in that particular moment? There was no build up, she just felt weak and dropped dead. If they had showed from the beginning that she was in a fragile state, it could have worked. After a lackluster characterization in The Last Jedi, I finally connected to Rey again. I loved her struggles and her fears. Daisy’s acting was vastly superior this time around. Though her bickering with Poe felt forced, Finn’s relationship with both characters was a highlight. I’m not sold on the dynamic of the trio, but the humor mostly worked, especially from C3PO. He was the MVP of that part of the story. Speaking of Finn, I’m confused as to what his arc in the movie – if we can call it that – was heading towards.  He wanted to tell Rey something, maybe about his Force sensitivity, but it went nowhere. His past as a stormtrooper wasn’t really explored as promised, just briefly addressed in what I suppose was a bonding moment with Jannah. I’m not exactly sure why John Boyega was so satisfied this time around. As for the new characters, they were definitely a miss for me. Jannah and Zorii added very little to the story and General Pryde could have easily been replaced by Hux if Rian hadn’t turned him into a comic relief. Lando’s return was completely neutral. I felt nothing. He was there to deliver smooth one-liners meant to get people cheering. Everything critics have been saying about the pacing is true. There’s absolutely no room to breathe. Some people claim JJ was rushing to overwrite what Rian did and I couldn’t disagree more. There was one particular moment that felt like a middle finger to The Last Jedi and that is Luke catching his lightsaber and saying it should be treated with more respect. Aside from that, the biggest difference between TLJ and TROS is the tone, not the story. Even Rey Palpatine kept the message that Rian was trying to convey: there are things more important than blood. If I’m being quite honest, I much prefer Rey Palpatine to Rey Random, because it at least connects Rey to the previous trilogies. I still don’t like Rey Fauxwalker, but I ran out of fucks to give at this point. So why was everything so rushed? It’s just the nature of the story that JJ tried to tell. He wanted an adventure with the heroes and lots of action and that’s what we got. He’s not a very imaginative man. Although I – to quote Mark Hamill – fundamentally disagree with a lot of Rian Johnson’s decisions, I have much more respect for him as a filmmaker. While I agree with the critics about the pacing, I’m at loss as to why they think there is so much fan service. What the hell are they talking about? Ewoks? Indistinguishable voices from random past Jedi? Like I said before, if anything this movie has the potential to displease practically every fan. Ben dies, Reylo happens, Luke’s role is very brief, Anakin was nowhere in sight and a case could be made that his sacrifice was disregarded. The discourse surrounding this trilogy has poisoned the debate. People are now seeing digs at Rian and fan service everywhere. The most glaring issue with this film – bar none – is Palpatine’s return. He’s back just because. He’s back because Rian didn’t get the memo that if anything was settled from the beginning of this trilogy is that Kylo was not the big bad. So in a way, the biggest problem with this movie wasn’t even its fault. It’s the fault of everyone involved, for not mapping out the story. Once the space battle started, I tuned out. I have no idea what happened there. I’m not sure why Finn and Jannah split from the group and I honestly don’t care. I’m trying to understand why Anakin and Ben weren’t in the final scene with the twins and… I’ve got nothing. I still don’t know where the film ranks in comparison to the others and I won’t know for a while. Overall I think the mixed reactions are fair. As a final random note, I can’t believe Jodie fucking Comer is Rey’s mother!

[hiskniight]

@dansiere said: “ the memories hurt the most, I know. And it will feel like you cannot breathe but... what matters is that you... -- you have to stay on top of it, Connie. ”

          Since Connie had STARTED, more or less LIVING AT the beach house, they started a TRADITION of WATCHING the CHEESIEST MOVIES Connie ( && Greg could find. ) Sometimes she’d set up VOICE CHATS so she && Steven would watch a movie / TV show together, ALONE, in her MAKESHIFT BEDROOM. Tonight it was a BLACK && WHITE MOVIE, but Connie was DAZED && UNABLE to FOCUS ON IT, Connie could NEVER seem to QUIET her MIND, ( or RELAX her body ) sometimes it would get so LOUD, even around Steven, ( SWEET, SOFT, CALM, Steven ) she was always THINKING / PLANNING / WATCHING for THREATS-  always being TWENTY STEPS AHEAD of ANYTHING / EVERYTHING && EVERYONE at all times. 

          She should be STUDYING, honestly, CAUGHT UP on her SUMMER READING &&--- thoughts cut short by a sudden COLD CHILL in the air, the room DRAINED of all COLOR / GROWING into hues of WHITE / GREY / BLACK. The taste of blood FILLED her mouth. No no no no no please- ‘ MY DARLING LITTLE STARLIGHT, ‘ She went STIFF, a TIGHTENING in her shoulders && down her spine, her CONSCIOUSNESS started FLICKERING IN && OUT, SUBMERGING her BRAIN with SINISTER FLASHBACKS / MEMORIES in a NIGHTMARISH kind of SLOW MOTION. A c h i l l TRICKLED DOWN her spine like ice water, a GHOST OF A WHISPER in her ear. ‘ YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER. ‘  THIN, BONY FINGERS curl around her shoulders, nails STABBING into tender flesh, breath on the back of her neck as COLD AS DEATH, himself. She’s not here she's not here she's not here ! SNAP OUT OF IT ! 

          Please… Pl- Tears well up in her eyes, BLURRING her vision with a WATERY HAZE, chest TIGHTENING with FOREBODING that SPREADS throughout her body like a FOREST FIRE. && a few, SLUGGISH SECONDS / it seems to LAST an ETERNITY, she’s PARALYZED, ROOTED to the floor. She QUICKLY excused herself, handing the bowl of POPCORN onto Peridot’s lap, standing up on legs made of RUBBER. ❝ Would you like us to pause the movie, Connie ? ❞ Pearl asked. The brunette gave a small wave of her hand. ❝ No, It’s okay. I’ve seen this a million times. ❞

‘ DID YOU HAVE FUN ? ‘ 

          The WORLD is CRUMBLING under her, bits CRACKING, PIECES BREAKING OFF, the EARTH is SWALLOWING her, PANIC / FEAR grips her, RIPPING her beating heart from her chest, blood turns to ICE WATER in her veins. Everything is BEGINNING to sound MUFFLED / DROWNED OUT, VOICES fading, shaking hands- curling fingers into TIGHT balls, digging nail into CALLOUSED PALMS. She makes it into the bathroom before her WORLD is totally SWALLOWED UP, TREMBLING fingers reach for the LIGHT SWITCH, a BURST of DIM LIGHT floods to life, STUDYING herself in the MIRROR, fingers DIGGING into the COLD PORCELAIN of the sink, NAUSEA washes over her. 

‘ THIS LITTLE GAME OF YOURS IS OVER. ‘ 

          BLINDING WHITE LIGHT, room GLOWING, LONG, JET BLACK TALONS, reaching out towards her, only to PLUCK Steven OFF THE GROUND, an ECHOING, SING-SONG VOICE. ‘ IT’S TIME TO COME OUT, PINK. ‘ The echoes of her voice FLOOD her mind, she’s back there, the COLD HANDS of her mentor WRAPPED TIGHTLY around her, fingers against her mouth, nails DIGGING, PAINFULLY into her cheeks. Making her teeth ache with the need to BITE DOWN. Watching HELPLESSLY / PITIFULLY / USELESSLY as his GEM is RIPPED / TORN OUT so easily out of his stomach, his PAINED EXPRESSION, ( a GAPING HOLE, blood spilling onto MARBLE FLOORS && coating PURE WHITE SKIN a DEEP CRIMSON. ) sweat && tears rolling down pale, hollowed cheeks, a SCREAM trapped between CLENCHED teeth. A COLD HORROR ripples through her stomach. 

          Then he’s FALLING FALLING FALLING FALLING, heart POUNDING in her ears. PINK LIGHT washing out the WHITE, ‘ ST- STEVEN ! ‘ His COLD, DYING BODY is heavy in her arms, skin GRAYING && ICE COLD against shaking hands, his BEGGING && PLEADING WHIMPERS, his TEARS STAINING her jacket. THICK, RICH, BLOOD oozing from the gaping hole where his GEM should be. She’ll never FORGET the COPPER TINGE of blood on her tongue, SICKENINGLY DRY, SWEET METALLIC TASTE / SCENT, vile pungency that SMOTHERED her SENSES && SUFFOCATES the air from her lungs. && no amount of HOW MANY TIMES she brushed her teeth / DRINKING MOUTHWASH like it was WATER, it won’t seem to LEAVE. It lingers in her nose, a lump in the back of her throat that she can NEVER swallow down. Had there really been blood ? No. No. He hadn’t bled. Had he ? 

She’s going CRAZY.

          Her eyes were WILD / UNSEEING, && she struggled to hold herself together. ‘ NOW TO DISPOSE OF- ‘ An ANIMALISTIC SCREAM / DISGUSTING, THROAT-SCRAPING SOB, curling a TREMBLING hand into a fist && SMASHING it AGAINST the BATHROOM MIRROR, again again again again-  SHATTERING her GEM, silencing her MOCKING LAUGHTER && SING-SONG VOICE once && for all; a jolt of ADRENALINE surging through her veins. It was better than any HIGH she’d ever EXPERIENCED. Blood FLOODING down her knuckles, broken glass FALLING Like STARS. She STUMBLES BACK, a HITCHED, UGLY sob escapes between CLENCHED TEETH, falling against the wall, the MIRROR was just a SLIP of the LIGHT that was all. Just her stupid MIND PLAYING TRICKS, showing her FLASHES of things she thought she had CONTROL OVER. No, that she DID have control over ! She wasn’t Steven, the gems, Lars... ANYONE. She didn’t FALL APART. The sound of fists THUNDERING DOWN against the THIN WOODEN DOOR, shaking it, ❝ What was that, Connie ? Did you hurt yourself ? ❞ 

          ❝ Unlock the door. We need to get the glass out before it can cause permanent damage. ❞ A MONOTONE VOICE ( Garnet ) spoke through the HAZE of ERRATIC of Pearl, Bismuth && Peridot. Of course, her FUTURE VISION saw a GLIMPSE of what could / would HAPPEN... Did she see she FLASHBACKS ? Shit ! Scrubbing a hand through dark curls, getting blood in her hair, biting the INSIDE of her cheek. ❝ Her hand ?! ❞ A SHRILL / PANICKED voice, shouts over all the other voices, a prickle of IRRITATION crawls under her skin... Pearl. That’s her MOTHERLY TONE, the same one she’s HEARD whenever it INVOLVES Steven. ❝ What happened to her hand ?! ❞ Before the TALLER GEM can open her mouth to REMEASURE Pearl that EVERYTHING IS OKAY. Connie braces herself against the wall, legs SHAKING like she were a NEWBORN LAMB.

          ❝ I’m not going to sat idly by when one of my babies is hurt !! ❞ The PORCELAIN GEM is about to KICK THE DOOR IN, when SUDDENLY it BURST OPEN. Then the panic let loose && she began CLUMSILY RUNNING / PUSHING PAST the gems && YANKING the door open almost HARD ENOUGH to BREAK the front door off its hinges, bare feet against WOODEN FLOORS, chest BURNING, the smell of SALT WATER, tears STINGING her eyes. DROPPING heavily onto the beach, catching her breath as the wet sand crunched beneath her. Fingers CLUTCHING / TWISTING her shirt, HEART threatening to BURST from her ribs. Is she DYING ? Why is her chest so TIGHT ? Dread is CREEPING UP her spine, SQUIRMING between her ribs, making its HOME in her heart. 

          Heat CRAWLS across her skin && a RUSH of UNKNOWN FEELINGS, of something STIRRING to life, like someone LIT a MATCH inside her && FLAMES engulfed her, SWALLOWING her, urgent && molten. SHAME festers in the pit of her stomach. A shaky breath in through her mouth && back out her nose, calm down. It’s okay. Everything passes in a blur. Soon Connie found herself sitting in the sand, watching the tide ROLLING IN. Connie doesn’t REMEMBER how she ENDED UP sitting on the beach, it’s GROWING COLDER / the sun is being SWALLOWED by the sea, the sky BURNING yellow, orange && red. She chooses to IGNORE the footsteps, she already knows who it is.

PEARL.

          SHRUGGING OFF her COMMENT. ( Garnet must have told her... ) She was okay, she was MANAGING, could FUNCTION just fine. She wasn’t going to FALL APART like Steven had. She’s too NUMB / DRAINED to even bother CARING why Pearl is standing there AWKWARDLY, hands FUMBLING in front of her. Almost like she’s WORRIED / FEARFUL that at any MINUTE Connie would JUMP UP && SHATTER her gem like the MIRROR sitting in SHARDS in the sink. ( && EMBEDDED in her knuckles. ) She doesn’t want Pearl’s HELP, her LACKLUSTER ADVICE that Connie’s read from SELF HELP BOOKS. SHUT THE FUCK UP, PEARL ! Is what she wants to say / to SCREAM- lingering on her tongue, between clenched teeth && choking sobs. 

          Begging to be set FREE. But Connie KNOWS she’s NEVER going to let those HORRIBLE, STUPID, TRUTHS crawl from a weakened tongue && TREMBLING lips. ❝ I- ❞ She swallows heavily, shoulders SHAKING. ❝ I’m not Steven. I don’t need to be babied ! ❞ Words are COMING OUT more && more AGGRESSIVELY, more FRANTIC. It's almost SICKENING how the BITTERNESS is SLIPPING IN, invading her heart. Cheeks flushed SCARLET with UNBRIDLED RAGE, teeth CLENCHED && chest HEAVING, gasping breath.

          This SICKENINGLY SWEET, OVERBEARING ( S ) MOTHER. Who was CARING, voice DRIPPING with CONCERN, WIDE, DOE LIKE EYES- shimmering with a NEED to HELP / to PROTECT. Who seemed to want to CODDLE her like a NEWBORN BABY. It leaves a BITTERSWEET TASTE that fills her mouth, like SWALLOWING a HOT BED OF COALS, BURNING her from the INSIDE OUT. She wants to SCREAM. The brunette glare DAGGERS at the gem before turning her ATTENTION back towards the ocean. Biting back the URGE to just start LAUGHING ( or start CRYING ) in her face, JEALOUSY crept up her spine, Steven had gotten the Pearl she should’ve gotten. ( He needed that SIDE OF HER more than you ! You asked for this when you CHOOSE to pick up a sword. ) A LINGERING urge to PUSH HER AWAY && close herself off from those feelings. 

           Because she doesn't know how to handle it, because she NEVER heard those words from Pearl before. ( Steven’s SOFT HEARTED, LOVING Pearl ) so it feels ODD / UNNATURAL / UNCOMFORTABLE when she does, this is WORSE than hearing a  HARSH LECTURE from her ( or her MOTHER ), but this was coming from the mouth of a NICE, CARING Pearl. Her WORDS of RECURRENCE felt like a SLAP across the face now. It sat her TEETH ON EDGE. Connie felt a familiar TWIST of JEALOUSY in her HEART, acid rushed up her throat, this wasn’t the same Pearl who TRAINED her to DIE for the boy she LOVED / the son of a DIAMOND. She was RUTHLESS, COLD, CALCULATED, Pearl / The Renegade would NEVER TALK to Steven THE WAY she SPOKE to her on the SKY ARENA. Had she wanted to think Steven ( Pearl ) was to BLAME ? Was she REALLY that jealous of her BEST FRIEND ? No, of course not… right ? ...Right ?

          Head SWIMMING with an awful ball of anger that sat HEAVILY atop her heart, she was DRUNK ON it. The words ‘ The memories hurt the most, I know. ‘ pounded in her skull as fast as her  rapid / frantic, HEARTBEAT, ‘ But… what matters is that you… — ‘ it just kept REPEATING itself OVER && OVER as every WORD from Pearl CRAWLED under her skin, surged in her veins. This was becoming as close to an APOLOGY Connie knew she’d ever get from Pearl ( from any of the gems. ) ‘ You have to stay on top of it, Connie.’ The hair on the back of her neck rose, mouth dry. Why did she KEEP talking ? She LOVED the SOUND OF her own VOICE, Connie knew Pearl could talk for HOURS ON END without taking a single breath ( not that she needed to breath. ) Hands balled into fists at her sides. ❝ I said I’m fine… I have this… myself under control, what happened in the bathroom was just a slip up. I should probably cut back on the coffee. ❞ She won’t. 

          Yet another L I E gracing her lips. it was GROWING harder each day to DISTINGUISH the LIES from the TRUTH. How would EVERYONE know ? All she does is LIE LIE LIE LIE- LYING to Steven, Pearl, friends, her own PARENTS. LYING TO HERSELF. All fake smiles && forced laughter so no one sees how BROKEN INSIDE she really is. But keep lying. It’s what you're GOOD at. The PHRASE - ‘ I’M FINE. ‘ Turns BITTER, ROTTEN on her tongue, MASHING the words between teeth, swallowing them down a BLEEDING, RAW throat. But over TIME those words STARTED to sound HOLLOW, DEVOID of any MEANING / WORTHLESS words that fall EFFORTLESSLY from lips each time the phrases are SPOKEN to life again.

‘ Are you okay ? ‘

‘ You look tired. Have you been sleeping ? ‘

Or her FAVORITE- ‘ I’m here if you need to talk. ‘ No, you’re NOT !  

          Silence creeps across the two, chocolate hues watch with GLAZED OVER eyes, tears drying on cheeks, CRIMSON DROPLETS roll down her hand && laid on wet sand, the tide SWALLOWS UP the blood, like she never EXISTED, just another drop in THE ENDLESS && vast DEEP BLUE. Glancing up from her bleeding hands, towards the water, waves crashing, tickling her bare feet, soaking the bottom of her shorts. For a SPLIT SECOND Connie’s mind FLICKERS, GLITCHING- taking her back to the SECOND TIME she almost LOST HER LIFE from DROWNING. 

          Oh, how UNFORGIVING the sea ( Lapis ) is / was, the cold, HARSHNESS of it, the salty taste of water filling her lungs / a BUBBLE wrapped around her head. The MEMORY fills her with a SOUR TASTE of DREAD in the back of her throat, a PIN-PRICK of TRANQUILITY lingers in the back of her SKULL- whispering SWEET NOTHINGS like the VOICE of a LOVER. She didn’t see her LIFE FLASH BEFORE HER EYES like how its always described in BOOKS or MOVIES. It was just this LIFELESS, HEAVY WEIGHT was lifted from her shoulders && she could finally BREATHE ( METAPHORICALLY ) for the first time in her life. A inky BLACKNESS, muffled voices && the slowing of her HEART BEAT.

          After all the VEIL between LIFE && DEATH is PAPER THIN, having ONE FOOT IN THE GRAVE on that fateful day she PLUMMETED to the BOTTOM of the SEA in a PINK BUBBLE all those years ago. She’s been greeting THE GRIM REAPER with open arms / the two were like OLD FRIENDS. ( waiting / longing with BATED BREATH for his KISS OF DEATH. ) She no longer FEARED it. Feared H I M. It gave her COMFORT knowing the sea would SOMEDAY, once again claim her BODY, cradling her SOUL && taking her HOME. She WISHES those THOUGHTS scared her. ( She still gets this TWINGE of ANXIETY when she has to shower or goes to the pool ) but that DEEP LONGING for the cold embrace of saltwater in her BURNING lungs && WEIGHTLESS FEELING, unburdened by the BATTLEFIELD that is her life. The UNENDING WAR in her BROKEN MIND.

          She WISHED Lapis ( White Diamond / Topaz / Jasper ) had KILLED her, she would have GIVEN her own life for STEVEN. The boy she LOVED so much her HEART ACHES, flutters between her rib cage. && like Pearl with PINK DIAMOND- she would do it without thought for herself. Steven was her life, her EVERYTHING. Her FIRST FRIEND / LOVING BOYFRIEND. ( FOLLOWING in Pearls PATHETIC, CLINGING, FOOTSTEPS with DEEPLY ROOTED NEED for a LOVER who would GIVE themselves up in a HEARTBEAT whether it's to SELFISHLY turn to STARDUST / BECOME A BLACK-HOLE && create a NEW, BRIGHTER STAR CHILD, made from LOVE && TRAGEDY / to self-sacrifice himself to the ENEMY GEMS thinking it's the right thing. PUSHING PUSHING PUSHING PUSHING THEM HER AWAY. Like he ALWAYS DOES ! )

          Keeping her gaze straight, tears simmering in RED RIMMED eyes, mouth set in a TIGHT FROWN. A small hiss through gritted teeth, pulling a slightly bigger shard out. She doesn’t want to talk about it, && doesn't want to think about HER. About any of it. She feels like she’s SUFFOCATING, she’s been DROWNING for years && no one seems to hear her CRIES, her pleading screams. Thrashing && trying to keep herself afloat in an ENDLESS VOID OF NOTHINGNESS, emptiness. So she built a GRAVEYARD inside her GUT, she’s been BURYING the DYING && ROTTING CORPSES of HERSELF in THE DIRT for YEARS. The WEAKNESS, FEAR, LONELINESS, her slowly crumbling MENTAL STATE, everything she deemed unfit to FIGHT by && PROTECT Steven. 

          She needs to be the PERFECT BEST FRIEND / GIRLFRIEND, STRAIGHT A STUDENT, QUIET / OBEDIENT DAUGHTER, PERFECT SWORD FIGHTER. So many DIFFERENT PEOPLE for everyone in her life. ( The one who can SHATTER White Diamond ! ) Needs to be SMARTER, STRONGER, SCARIER. She needs to be what THEY ( he ! ) need her to be. && she’s ready to bury her SOUL for it. COUGHING UP black dirt && swallowing STONES / where no words reach the surface, crying out for HELP even though she's not sure she even WANTS / NEEDS or DESERVES it.

She knows she doesn't.

          With a head FILLED with GHOSTS, parts of herself that refuse to stay BURIED IN THE GROUND, crawling, UGLY, BEGGING, LITTLE THINGS / mouths open in SILENT SCREAMS. Clawing, ripping with BLOODY, BROKEN nails TRYING to rip OPEN her throat && FREE THEMSELVES from this PRISON she’s BUILT in her HEART. ❝ It’s not a big deal, really. ❞ Biting down hard on her bottom lip to STIFLE the sob TRAPPED in her throat, don’t cry ! Don’t you DARE cry ! ❝ I just need to get over myself. It was one little memory, nothing to worry about, Ma’am. ❞ She forces a TIGHT SMILE, a laugh BUBBLES UP from a dry throat, wincing as she pulls the last bit of GLASS from her WOUNDED HAND. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE IT BE. 

          This STORM has been BUILDING UP inside her for years, on the cusp of her CHILDHOOD she’d been BRANDED with a METAPHORICAL SCARLET LETTER against TENDER SKIN with the ROLE OF ADULTHOOD, while still SEEN / TREATED like a HELPLESS CHILD. && in the AFTERMATH wears her TRAUMA like a NECKLACE of RUSTED CHAINS, wrapped TIGHTLY around a soft throat && slumping shoulders, GROWING heavier with each YEAR. A GALAXY / RAINBOW of bruises peppered her hand && DARK CRUSTED BLOOD RINGED around her knuckles. 

          The LOUD ACHE was COMFORTING && SAFE, Connie UNDERSTOOD IT- the PAIN, the BUDDING ANGER. Flexing her left hand to make sure her fingers weren’t BROKEN. Chocolate hues glance down at the BLOOD STAINED GLASS, with slow, steady fingers, she picks up the bits && stuffs them into her pocket so she can THROW IT away in the beach house. ( Couldn’t risk a SEAGULL getting injured because of her MISTAKE / OUTBURST ) curling inward, pulling, shaking legs to her chest.

          TERRIFIED of opening PANDORA’S BOX && letting all those GHOSTS && ROTTING CORPSES of herself, her TRAUMA out. But it keeps LEAKING OUT through the CRACKS, ( NIGHTMARES, smashing the bathroom mirror, && so much more it HURT her head to even THINK about them ) she’s SCARED that she’ll NEVER be able to UNTANGLE IT, it'll come RUSHING OUT like WATER in an OVERFLOWING SINK. So she keeps PUSHING IT DOWN, filling up that GRAVEYARD. 

          TELL ME IT GETS EASIER ? That she won’t always feel this TIGHTENING IN her chest, PANIC flooding her VEINS when she hears the name WHITE DIAMOND, that even just WALKING around Beach City makes her want to RIP her skin off. That she can’t take a SHOWER without having a PANIC ATTACK for an HOUR… PLEASE SHE NEEDS TO HEAR THAT ! She needs to hear from the ADULTS in her life to say SORRY. SORRY SORRY SORRY- Steven ALWAYS SAYS he’s SORRY, even if it’s not his FAULT ( it’s NEVER his fucking fault ! )

‘ WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU HERE IS FOREVER ! ‘

[atinyidea]

A Promise To The Sea | Ateez | To Sea | Two

TO SEA – TWO

→  2353 words

→ ml | prologue | previous | next

When Jiwoo woke up her eyes opened first, which is in fact what usually happens when one wakes up. Her eyelids fluttered opened, the sight she saw made her groan. She was underneath a window However she didn’t know that since all she saw was the blinding light of the sun shining right in her eyes.

Her groan must have been rather loud because soon enough there were footsteps heard, gradually getting louder as they came nearer. In an effort to not be completely vulnerable while she was disjointed Jiwoo attempted to sit up. 

Attempted because as soon as she tried, lightning strikes of pain wracked through her. Going straight through her shoulder through the left side of her body and cutting out at her knee.

An agonising whimper lifted itself from her lips, her vision becoming black once again as she squeezed her eyes closed and laid back down in pain.

“Hey, it’s okay, just don’t move, yeah? I’ll be right back.” Jiwoo heard a male’s voice. It wasn’t a familiar voice but, in a place, she had no recollection of getting too Jiwoo wondered if any voice would be familiar.

She wondered if he was just waiting for her to wake up so he could leave, or if he just so happened to be there as she woke up. Opening her eyes again, slowly this time to get used to the sun, they focused on her surroundings. Directly above her was an open slanted window, the glass panes were coloured to create a picture, but it was currently swung open, letting a breeze of air flow through the room. The room she was in was made of wood: the ceiling, the floors, the furniture.

Gritting through the pain in her shoulder Jiwoo forced herself to sit upright, taking note of what exactly she had gotten yourself into. She was in the back of the room, the cot she laid on pushed right against the wooden wall. There were two chairs close to the cot, several other cots were scattered around. The room was quite big, she noted. She was also surprised to see she was rocking slightly, a small bobbing motion she wouldn’t have caught if she wasn’t good at catching the smallest of detail. Was she on a boat?

Slung over one of the chairs was the jacket she had bought. Jiwoo looked to herself then. No longer was she wearing her leather trousers, but a pair of linen trousers that had been cut, or ripped, at the mid-thigh. They weren’t hers, the pair she had packed were a grey colour while the ones on her legs were a cream colour. Jiwoo felt confused, as she battled internally with two opposing emotions; anger and relief. Anger that she had been changed by a stranger who was most likely a man  – and a pirate no doubt. Yet she felt relieved that she was alive, that you still had clothes, that she was no longer with her father.

She still wore her own shirt, another thing she was relieved about. A woman’s underwear was confining, a contest that would make one lose their breath if they so much as looked at it. Jiwoo usually went without undergarments for her top half when she went riding, seeing as she wasn't particularly gifted in that area she hadn’t thought it mattered much anyway. Jiwoo wondered what the person who changed her must have thought about that revelation but quickly dispelled the thought, not wanting to imagine it. The shirt was surprisingly still white, only stained red around the shoulder. However, Jiwoo found that the shirt was cut, or rather ripped, around her left shoulder where the joint was wrapped in bandage cloth.

She was astounded as to how well her shirt was still intact and covering her body with a chunk of the arm missing.

Interrupting her thoughts was the opening of a door, scraping across the wooden floor. Through said door entered three people, but only two stayed to make their way towards Jiwoo. And then only one. Jiwoo felt her eyes widen at the sight of a female, a female? as she walked towards her.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m Nagyung. I looked after you while you were asleep.” Her voice was like bells to Jiwoo’s ears, her smile was both warm and kind. Jiwoo felt herself becoming more at ease, even though Nagyung was a complete stranger. “How do you feel? You’ve been asleep for a couple of days now.”

Days? How long were days?

“I feel… sore.” Jiwoo finally revealed, speaking slowly and not once looking away from the woman in front of her.

Nagyung laughed, although it was more like a giggle, coming to sit down next to Jiwoo on the cot. “That’s to be expected. You were shot! Twice.”

Under the sunlight that streamed through the window, Jiwoo could make out Nagyung’s features more clearly. Her hair was light, but now she saw it to be a shade of candyfloss pink instead of the light red she had first assumed. It was out of her face, held in a simple knot Jiwoo noted was made from her own hair - no leather in sight. Jiwoo also noted the sparse scattering of pearls in the knot, shining under the sun before Nagyung turned her face to hers. Her face was small, but her eyes were big, a mix between green and blue, swirling mad like whirlpools had been caught in her irises. Her face was round and as she smiled at Jiwoo, who caught sight of dimples under apple-like cheeks. Jiwoo hadn’t seen many people like Nagyung in all her years of life. While Jiwoo stared, she talked. But she heard none of it, only coming back down to earth as Nagyung disconnected their locked gazes and looked towards the other person in the room. Honestly, Jiwoo would have whined if it weren’t for the name that spilt from her lips as she did.

“Wooyoung says we’re about the same age!”

Wooyoung? The name of her brother? It had to be a coincidence. There was more than one Wooyoung in the world. 

Her heart still skipped a beat.

“Thanks, Nagyungie” His voice sighed, Jiwoo’s eyes snapped to him as he moved forward into a stream of light. His face was exactly as Jiwoo remembered it.

“Wooyoung.”

He only nodded.

“Your face hasn’t changed at all.”

“Yours has.”

“Well, I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“No, you’re not.”

Silence. 

Jiwoo hated silence.

Jiwoo had often wondered how it would be when she saw her brother again. She had never doubted that he was alive until recently, only ever starting to doubt if he cared to come back. However, Jiwoo had never imagined it would be this awkward. She guessed she hardly knew him anymore, and he didn’t know her at all now.

Nagyung looked between the two siblings, patted Jiwoo's non-wounded shoulder before leaving the room. Jiwoo caught the reassuring smile she sent Wooyoung as she paused him, pausing like she wanted to do something more but deciding against it and hurried to leave.

“Why were you in Gilway?”

“It was your birthday. I’d rather not be forced to spend it with our father if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can understand that. But you were in men’s clothes, he called for a kingdom-wide search. You ran.”

Jiwoo chuckled hollowly. “Aren’t you smart.”

“Don’t start.” Wooyoung almost sneered.

“I’m not.”

“Why.”

“Why what?”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Why’d you run away?” He expanded.

“Maybe I was following my brothers’ footsteps.” Her voice was ironic, full of sarcasm.

“Be serious.”

Jiwoo rolled her eyes, not particularly wanting to tell her brother the entire truth. She found she no longer trusted him. “I gave up waiting for you to come back and save me and decided to save myself.”

“-and run into pirates and get shot?” He cut her off, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like I knew there were pirates in Gilway Wharf!” She exclaimed. “And you’re a pirate too! Aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” He dismissed.

“Of course, it does.” She argued. “You ran away from a man who was forcing you to raid and murder just to become a pirate were you willingly choose to raid and pillage and murder!”

His voice was raised, “I don’t murder,” but his tone left nothing for the imagination.

“Yeah, okay. Sure, I believe you.”

“You can believe what you want.”

“I will, you don’t get to decide my thoughts, Wooyoung.”

The two siblings relapsed into silence. Maybe Wooyoung had in fact changed. His face was older she noticed, as he shifted slightly and his face was cast in light from the window. His hair was lighter than she remembered, now it looked almost grey. His eyebrows were drawn, a frown shaping his features, a raised piece of skin just above his left eye becoming more prominent. He had scars she’d never seen before. He wore casual clothes, the kind she knew he liked to wear just to spite their father. He wore tight leather pants paired with a loose linen shirt, much like the one Jiwoo herself was wearing. His was open lower down his chest that hers though. Over the top was a leather jacket that had been dyed with a deep blue. He let out a long sigh, moving forward towards her. Almost reflexively, Jiwoo moved back. It wasn’t that she was scared of him per say, more like she was cautious of anyone who approached her. She had enough reason to be.

Wooyiung just sat down on a nearby chair, rubbing his face with his hands once before looking over at his sister. “What? Don’t you trust me?”

“No.” She shot back with no hesitation. “You’re a pirate. I don’t even know you anymore.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“Then earn it again.”

“Earn it? I’m your brother!” He practically shouted, standing up from his seat.

“You left me alone! With that man! For five years!” Jiwoo was shouting now too.

“Alone? That bastard would never be able to touch you! Mother would never allow it.”

“Well, maybe not but our mother is dead so...” She paused, looking away from him, “that kind of defeats your point.” Her voice fell flat, emotionless. 

Wooyoung took a large step towards her, grabbing her shoulders firmly – though not hard enough for it to hurt her – and crouching down so that their eyes were level, face to face. “What?” He asked.

“Mother died four years ago. I guess you never heard about it.”

“How?”

“How do you think? Our father killed our mother, blamed it on her  chambermaid and then made me kill her.”

“What.”

Jiwoo scoffed, moving her shoulders out of his grasp, watching his hands fall to his sides. “Yeah. I became his new toy as soon as you went missing. He made me learn how to use a sword and a gun and then he made me use them.”

“I… I’m sorry.” His voice was low. She replied with a singular scoff.

“What am I even doing here?” She broke, voice slightly cracking. Though, she kept her face expressionless.

“So, you’d rather bleed out to death on the muddy floor in a port town where everyone was going crazy looking for you to return you to the king?”

“No. I’m wondering why your captain cornered me, causing me to get shot, twice, and why one of those other pirates told him to grab me and go before I passed out.”

“How do you even remember that?”

“Nice to know that is what happened?” Jiwoo raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t even sure that was what happened, well now she was. Before he could reply, she continued. “You learn to remember things quickly when you live in hell.”

Silence. Again. Would they ever get over it?

“Just, lay down. Get some rest.” He ordered softly, already walking backwards. “Rest up, we’re in the middle of the ocean anyway, there’s not much you can do.”

And then he was gone. And she was alone, again.

                                    ✦❘༻༺❘✦

As soon as she left, Nagyung felt bad. She knew her mouth could talk without her brain thinking and she might have just ruining Wooyoung’s plan of talking to his sister once again.

She stood, leant against the door she just came from, with her eyes closed as shame filled her being.

Nagyung was still young, and she still let emotions get the best of her sometimes. She hadn’t meant to ruin their reunion.

“Nagyung? Why are you crying?” She heard the voice of her friend and master healer, Kang Yeosang, as he gently laid a hand upon her shoulder. She hadn’t even realised her eyes were leaking.

“I just messed it all up for Wooyoung!” She couldn’t help but wail.

Yeosang frowned, gathering her into his arms.

“He’s going to be so mad at me!”

“He won’t be.” Yeosang patted her back in soothing motions.

Soon enough Nagyung started to calm down however, as voices began to raise from inside the infirmary, her cries started up again.

“Come,” Yeosang commanded softly, pulling her away from the door and toward the other side of the ship, where she could look over the sea. “Let them sort things out. We all knew there was a chance Jiwoo would’ve angry.”

“But Wooyoung wanted t-”

“Wooyoung knew things were going to be different. It’s better to get all the anger out at the beginning instead of it exploding later.” Yeosang cut her off.

Nagyung nodded.

She was about to speak again but was cut off by the sound of a door slamming shut. The two of the switches their gazes over to where Wooyoung has just left the infirmary. He looked at them before taking off towards the crow’s nest on the main mast.

“He hates me!” Nagyung whined again. However, her tears had stopped flowing. Yeosang simply smiled before turning around to lean against the side of the ship, watching the vastness of nothing but the clear blue sea the surrounded them.

“No one could hate you Nagyungie.”

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)

The schemer got schemed.

5K words. 5 fucking thousands words on some overly edgy Inazuma fic. I guess that's the power of self-indulgent writing lmao I'm sorry for how purple prose-y this reads. I don't know what it is about me this September that makes me want to write abstract stuff. And why was it so weird to write dialogue for this? I wasn't writing this awkwardly on purpose I s w e a r About the fic itself, it's mostly Orion-compliant, aside from a couple details and me deciding the match against France should have happened. The idea made more sense in my head before I started actually writing it, but oh well. I'm more impressed by how much I've written for this than anything else, tbh. I hope you still like it! I really want to write more Inazuma, so this was still a blast to write, even if the last part is... kind of weird? I didn't think I'd take this direction, but I didn't want it to end on a depressing note. Inazuma wouldn't, so why should I? This is already way too edgy for its own good, better balance things out. I also may have forgotten they're supposed to be fourteen or something, but it's easy to forgot with the alt continuity honestly. It may also be fairly OOC, but it depends on how you see the characters, I suppose. In all cases, I have a lot of fun writing these three in particular, so you can expect more of them to come one of these days.

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Two Birds in One Stone

Summary: For once, Nosaka didn't quite guess what was ahead of and coming for him. Now, if he had been the only one affected by his fight against Orion... Then it'd have been much better than that, most certainly so.

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven: Orion no Kokuin Relationships: Platonic Ichihoshi & Nosaka, Nishikage & Nosaka

Wordcount: 5.5K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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The biggest traps are the stealthiest, Nosaka learned against his will during the worldwide tournament.

 It’s a stupid lesson to learn this late, way too late, in fact. It’s like observing a bird dying in his hands and realizing this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t caused its death by accidentally crashing into it. Death he’s very nearly avoided causing recently, but even that detail doesn’t help relieve him. It was obvious, yet he didn’t take it as seriously as he should have, brushing it off as no bark and no bite…

He wishes he had gotten bitten instead, right as he stands in front of a door in a corridor, alone, half sunk in the darkness. His hands are bloodied, he doesn’t want to see them.

 The events keep repeating in a loop, tinted with bitter regret and a desperate wish to redo everything again. He’s not used to the awful taste of failure and near-defeat: even if they’ve won in the end, it wasn’t thanks to him, quite the opposite way around. If Ichihoshi hadn’t been there at the right time and properly equipped –and that thought sends chills down his spine— who knows would have happened to him and Japan’s team next.

It’s not like he can do anything about it now, since time is a treacherous one-way road, but it doesn’t prevent his mind from looping around the question over and over again. After all this time spent scheming, spent elaborating complex plans and betting on the near-impossible, he’s finding himself stuck in one place, contemplating failure and decisions he could and should have taken.

But it’s easy to just regret and mop around, licking one’s wounds like an injured animal: fixing one’s mess is much harder than people make it out to be.

 It started with the least subtle trap anyone from Orion could have laid before him: a message written in Cyrillic, all in Russian, as if trying to stir some primal fear he found himself missing. He wasn’t scared of Russia or their team, Perfect Spark was terrific as a team but they were no actual criminals. As such, he merely asked Ichihoshi to translate it for him, which the latter did with ease: as he had guessed, living and playing in Russia for a while had made Ichihoshi bilingual. He had to have talked with Froy Girikanan in one language anyway.

Ichihoshi didn’t seem very thrilled about the meaning of the piece of paper, eyebrows frowning and sweat pearling down his temples. The more he read, the worse his expression got, to a point where Nosaka was starting to wonder how bad these few words could have been. Cyrillic couldn’t have expressed in so few characters such violence that a former Orion agent would have been horrified about it.

 “N-Nosaka,” he asked him with a hesitating voice, “where does this come from?”

“It was slipped under my door,” he replied with the least worry in the world. “I suspect it to be no more than an ill-tasted joke. It’s too easy.”

“I guess, but… This sounds very serious. We know the Orion Foundation has enough funds and means to do this to us.”

“Do what? I’m afraid you haven’t told me about the meaning of this message yet, Ichihoshi.”

“R-right…” He seemed more than reluctant to read it. “It’s more or less telling you to stop investigating into Orion’s business if you don’t want everyone around you to suffer the consequences. It also states it won’t hesitate to employ great means to reach that goal and that you should better off surrender to them right now. And… well… The rest is tasteless, to say the least…”

“Tasteless?”

“I… I’m not sure if I want to read out all of this, it’s a gruesome list of what they’d do to us…”

“I see,” Nosaka didn’t, really, but there was no way Ichihoshi would be able to withstand translating that for him. “Thank you for this anyway. I’m still convinced this is but a bluff, so you shouldn’t worry over it.”

“Got it…”

 And he seemed to be right, for a couple days. The training sessions went perfectly smoothly, the match against France unfolded correctly (having to face not a single Orion player felt refreshing, for once). The team was growing and improving, welcoming Seishuu’s Mizukamiya in its ranks soon enough. More bickering amongst players, more discussions shared around a plate of dinner at the cafeteria, more scheming on his part against Orion. It was all fine, all so fine, and it’d obviously eventually resolve things in the long run.

He should have seen it coming, frankly, in retrospect. He should have sensed it was all too good, coming from the snake that was Orion, slithering in the dark with dagger-sharp fangs waiting for the opportunity to strike.

 The first real weird instance that happened was already fitting of Ichihoshi’s intimidated stance when reading a simple piece of paper. People sometimes missing dinner had never been much of a weird thing: they’d show up later and grab a plate of what would be left, once they’d have been finished with whatever they were doing. It wasn’t like there wasn’t a microwave oven to heat up food that’d have gone cold since then.

Still, he had mentally noted down who was always showing up for dinner at the same hour, nagged by the message despite his best judgement. Some were fairly obvious: Iwato, Asuto, Umihara, (in fact, most of Raimon’s members) they’d never fail showing up at the time dinner started. Technically, Nishikage and he were part of them, mostly due to the message having gone around (and it was obvious that he’d tell his right-hand about that, wasn’t it?). One of the few other people who’d have never failed showing up early was also Ichihoshi, ever since his identities merged together.

 As such, it was no less than odd for the latter not to show up when dinner was announced, on one day, soon before the match against Brazil. He was miffed about this fact, sure, but there was a possible rational explanation for it, so he didn’t insist against himself: if Ichihoshi was late, it may have been because he was researching information on the team they were going to go against soon and had forgotten to check the time it was, most likely too engulfed in searches to do so.

Yet, there was something off enough about this to make him almost bite his thumbnail. A few minutes to arrive late was all fine and not suspicious, but seeing everyone but someone who was always on-time show up, eat and leave was starting to make him worry. The message kept coming back to him, no matter how many times he forced himself to push it back into the depths of his mind, until it was almost unbearable and Nishikage himself made notice of how tense he had become throughout the evening.

 In the end, they were the last to leave the cafeteria, and he decided to go search for Ichihoshi. It was weird that this boy had still not shown up in the cafeteria.

 Their footsteps resonated in the corridors as he viciously searched for a familiar tuff of blue hair, for anything that’d give him an idea of where his aide had gone. His room was empty, no shared room had any trace of him in it and anyone he asked about their comrade’s whereabouts met him with confusion, worry or simply no information to give. No amounts of “Sorry, I’ve not seen him tonight yet, I’ll make sure to tell you if I see him” would give him an idea of where to head next, but at least, that was confirming this was indeed suspicious and not just his mind rendered unable to rationalize little things.

Seeing a trail of blood made his go cold, though. Before he realized it, he had started running in the corridors, forgetting everything around him, until the zigzagging lines stopped in a darker corner of the establishment and he was faced with what must have been matching the lines Ichihoshi hadn’t dared saying in out-loud Japanese.

Not that his unconscious body would have been able to do so either.

 Nosaka wasn’t that used to the sight of blood, this much he was discovering when coming across this disaster of a vision, a nauseating stench of iron immediately reaching his head and making it spin for a moment. In a sharp reflex, almost forgetting he wasn’t alone in this mess, he ordered Nishikage to call for help in a hurry and kneeled next to the body drenched in red, still liquid enough to taint his hands as he tried to make sure his comrade wasn’t dead, observing the surroundings as he searched for a pulse and exhaled a sight of relief when feeling one.

It was a sinister sighting he got forced to face. Sinking in the night’s darkness, barely lit by the emergency alarms, the faraway lights of nearby corridors and the stars and moon by the window, was Ichihoshi, hands covered in his own blood, a stainless exacto knife discarded nearby and a flare of murder to it all. This was gratuitous and needlessly violent, and his eye couldn’t help but spot in the darkness a paper with Cyrillic written on it.

It wasn’t a mere coincidence.

 By a miracle, they didn’t lose Ichihoshi that night, saved in extremis by a blood transfusion and a few stitches. He was clearly not in a playing condition from the incident, yet his recovery was announcing itself to be a quick one: he had actually not lost that much in the corridor. More scare than harm, he supposed.

That was a relief Nosaka didn’t dare make obvious to the outside of his mind.

 It was ashamed and shameful that he presented himself in front of a hospital door on the day after. He insisted on being alone, leaving Nishikage behind (who could wait for him or just do his own thing, he wouldn’t have minded either way), and entering the room with heavy footsteps and even heavier thoughts swirling in his mind. In his pocket, one of the reasons he was there. One of the reasons he was ashamed of being here too.

He had inspected every corner of the hospital corridors he had walked through to get there, just in case. He had also learnt some Cyrillic before coming, but that wasn’t to transcribe anything: it was only so he wouldn’t get a room number wrong. He couldn’t risk asking a receptionist, so better do that by himself and not risk anyone’s life in the process again. One endangered comrade was far than enough for a trickster resorting to cryptic messages. A trickster that made him feel unsafe enough for everyone around him and himself that he couldn’t even ensure himself of anyone’s safety anymore.

 Scheming against someone he knew the face and modus operandi of was easy. It had always been easier to point holes in a known person’s plans and means than some unknown mask smirking upon them with contempt. He couldn’t come up with an actual rebuttal with how little information: even the handwriting wouldn’t get them anywhere. The cleanliness of the knife found at the scene indicated this person had more than likely gotten rid of any DNA possible, hiding their track like a meticulous mind.

For the first time, Nosaka felt unable to do anything real against a situation he should have been able to do something in. It was a wit’s match, after all: there was no reason for him to be this paralyzed by difficulty when he had always been capable of winning his previous chess matches. Suddenly, he tasted powerlessness and it made him go restless. Not even kicking a ball was emptying his mind of the worry.

 When he eventually pushed the handle of the door and entered the room, he was surprisingly greeted by a smiling Ichihoshi, his skin barely paler than usual, waving at him slowly and gently. He didn’t quite know why he couldn’t find any resentment in his teammate’s eyes or demeanour but brushed that side for the moment being: there had to be an explanation and he could just wait for it. Patience was key in a situation where he wasn’t in control. For now, that was: after all, being patient and resisting the assault would provide him with an opportunity eventually, wouldn’t it?

He sat next to Ichihoshi, studying in rapid glances his condition from he could see. An intravenous injection in the left wrist, a bag of blood; another in the forearm, of something else, either painkillers or antibiotics, maybe nutriments. No way to tell for sure, so he skipped to the next element. Bandages on the chest, from what he could see: made sense. He couldn’t see any other limb, but neither arm bore anything that wasn’t clothing, so—

 “Ah,” Ichihoshi suddenly spoke up, “I got told it was just a deep scratch. I wasn’t stabbed or anything.”

Wait, had he just somehow read his thoughts?

“I see. I’m glad it wasn’t as grievous as we thought it was. Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine! Well, fine enough for someone who got attacked like that, but it’s not entirely unexpected, coming from Orion… Sorry for worrying you all like this. I’ll be fine soon, at least.”

“Will you be back for the next match?”

“I’m afraid not, but I’ll be there for the one against Italy, I promise.”

A smile. Too bad he’d have to crush it.

 “Say, Ichihoshi”, he asked, “I know this is of bad taste and comes with bad timing, but could you translate something for me?”

The smile disappeared as soon as it appeared.

“The word left next to me, right? That’s the last thing I remember before passing out.”

“Exactly.”

 As soon as he put it out of his pocket, left almost intact, Ichihoshi picked the paper in his hands and read through it, expression only slightly more relaxed than the first time around. His hands trembled, almost folding the paper under their press, until they untensed and their discussion resumed.

“This is but the beginning, for I’ll hit two birds with one stone. What’s odd is that it’s written in older Russian…”

“And the first wasn’t?”

“Not as far as I remember, at least… I wonder what they’re trying to mean with this. I don’t think it’s anything positive, though.”

“I doubt their intentions are any better than what’s happened to you anyway. It’s certain that you were the first ‘bird’, but who could be the second?”

“It has to be you, right, Nosaka?”

He paused for a minute to think about it. It only made sense for an Orion agent to get rid of their enemy’s commander, right? He had the flare of the Emperor of Tactics shining all around him in this tournament. He had to be the second target mentioned by the sombre message. There was no other way around, right?

“I suppose you’re right, Ichihoshi. Let’s be careful from then on.”

“Agreed.”

 The day Ichihoshi got discharged from the hospital was, coincidentally, the day Japan went against Brazil in the FFI. As he had expected, there was Orion meddling threaded through the entire faceoff: acupuncture tactics against Mizukamiya choosing to pretend like they’d be doing the same. It all ended with Japan’s victory, a freed Brazilian team, and an injured right hand. Nothing quite out of the ordinary, even if the messages kept popping in his head, and his eye always glanced back at Ichihoshi sitting on the bench, as if it made him feel safer about it all.

Which was a mistake, but on the pitch, he couldn’t have focused on that. There was a match to play and much bigger stakes hanging over the grass, other people to free from the enemy’s clutches, a tactic to pay attention to. At least, he still had his talent for acting to his service, as to seal the deal and sell the lie. The victory absolutely mattered, as it had always done since the beginning of the tournament.

 The blinding optimism of Inazuma Japan’s players almost intoxicated him into sharing their appeased mindset, almost made him forget about the poisonous fangs here to eat him alive in two vicious bites. Two birds, one stone. The vague wording of it still reminded him of nothing precise, but he still told Nishikage about it, brainstorming as they usually did, yet nothing came of it. Talk about running out of inspiration.

Both papers used were nothing but ordinary: white lined paper, standard printing paper that was then cut. Almost a bland modus operandi: it wasn’t original, but it was effective as not to be traced. Contacting the authorities came to his mind, but he quickly realized that’d end up putting all of them in danger in the long run. They never knew how brutal Orion could get on them. Oh, they had never known, in the end.

 The following days untensed his shoulders and brought back some of his sleep. The lack of anything serious happening combined with the training for the match against Italy had taken most of his awake thoughts, trying to piece together a strategy to adopt before it even started, helped by Ichihoshi and his analyses. It was nothing out of the ordinary for them, quite frankly, as this had become their routine, yet something still felt off. The, perhaps baseless, threats still swung over his head like Damocles’ sword.

That was his main mistake there: being unable to tell precisely where the sword was going to fall.

 A mistake he realized far too late, as it only came to his mind when discussing Italy’s team with Nishikage and Ichihoshi before the afternoon training session. It had been a casual conversation until the point where the latter wanted to check the paper again, thinking of something new for the investigation.

“What do you have in mind?” Nosaka asked as he put it out of his pocket and gave it away.

“I’m wondering who the second bird is again… We were sure it’d you, but nothing’s happened yet, and I wonder if it’s not because you’re always with someone else. I got attacked when I was alone.”

“That’s true. I suppose they’re only armed and prepared as to assault people when they can’t be spotted doing so.”

“Considering Orion’s influence and power,” Ichihoshi then pointed out a detail, pensive stance and eyes shining in a new light, “it’d be weird for them to be this careful. They could easily manipulate the situation to their advantage. I also still don’t understand why I wasn’t brought back to Orion either, if their motivation was to neutralize the people going against them. You’d think a traitor would have been a prime target to get rid of, but they left me to bleed out instead…”

“You’re rising a good point. I don’t think our enemy is actually siding with Orion. They seem more like opportunists profiting off from our conflict with the foundation.” He needed a third perspective on this, certain to have finally made a breakthrough in this blind investigation, so he turned to his usual aide. “What do you think of this, Nishi…”

 There was no one to meet his eyes.

“Nishikage was called by Sekiya.” Ichihoshi couldn’t hide the amusement in his reaction. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice him leaving!”

It was weird for him not to notice someone leaving his side, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t planned. He did remember something about a check-up. And it wasn’t like Nishikage couldn’t defend himself, so even if he was alone, he’d be…

“Wait, Ichihoshi.”

Something was wrong.

“You were attacked inside our centre, right?”

“I…” A struggle to remember. “I was. Why?”

Nosaka suddenly rose from his chair, almost punching the table they were sitting around while he was at it.

“His hand! How could have I forgotten about his hand?!”

He left in a hurry, forgetting to drag a half-confused Ichihoshi with him on a chase against time. That was what had sounded so wrong with this entire ordeal…!

 His thoughts were racing inside his head. He was a fool: the second bird had never been him. If they had wanted to get rid of the enemy, they’d have gotten to him first, wouldn’t have bothered leaving their former mole to die, as if giving him a chance to survive the attack. The cryptic Cyrillic had been a lie all along: someone wasn’t out for the team, he was out for him, and he had been a fool to believe otherwise. How in the hell had he taken so long to realize about what Ichihoshi had pointed out?

It was revenge by proxy. Someone was out for him and was using the worst means possible to reach their goals. A cold-blooded revenge whose devilish devise had to have made them be quiet about it, scared of the power of the Orion Foundation when it had never been implicated in the entire thing to begin with. That had been a lie and he had been too focused on something else to notice everything crashing down around him, just because the ceiling hadn’t started sweating dust above his head…!

 Yet, Nosaka’s blood almost ran cold when he saw, in a different corner of their living quarters, his closest ally being put a knifepoint by the person who had most likely already attempted killing Ichihoshi.

The crimson peeking through the bandages on his right hand was all he needed to get furious at the other man and himself alike.

 “No…” A strangled scream, stopped by the slash of a blade.

The unknown man barked some words in a language he didn’t understand, most likely Russian, while putting his available hand on his prey’s mouth. What was going on was absolutely cryptic, undecipherable to him: he lacked the linguistics to understand, he was finding out. Somehow, he had attracted the hatred of a man whom he didn’t even share a language with.

 Obviously, that meant there was no hope with talking with him: his words would never reach him, even on the most literary level of the saying. All there was to it now was trying to act against a situation where he was put at an obvious disadvantage. Not quite an easy feat to accomplish, would he say so himself, especially when trapped in such a catastrophe.

There was no air for a misplay on his part, so he analysed the situation. He was himself unarmed, couldn’t speak Russian, but was the object of the conspiracy. On the other side of a narrow corridor, a corner almost hidden away, Nishikage held at knifepoint and already bleeding and a man who didn’t speak a word of Japanese, armed with just this one knife he was using, face hidden by a mask. Calling for backup or leaving to get some would possibly result in Nishikage dying while he’d be gone or in front of his eyes. Yet, the lack of backup was an issue on both sides, so it was almost equal on that front. He only needed a hostage of his, a human shield to use, he supposed.

 “Nosaka!!”

The echo of Ichihoshi’s voice made him turn around in a bolt, panic settling in for a moment. If the man ever heard someone else coming their way…

“Don’t,” he almost said, before hearing a muffled yelp coming from his side. Turned around, saw his friend bleeding from the chest, and didn’t need anything else.

 Ichihoshi reached him in mere moments, breathless, a ball in his hands. Anxiety could be read all over his face, splattered on his eyes and brows, breath shaking. As soon as he came into the field of vision, the man started barking again, shooting his words like a machine gun, an aura of threat to them.

“A-ah…” Ichihoshi started mumbling, expression worsening.

“You understand what he’s saying, don’t you?” Nosaka asked, still in a hurry, putting all hopes on a comrade’s abilities.

“Y-yeah… It’s kinda hard to translate because he speaks so violently and so quickly, but he’s saying that you’ve ruined his life by interfering with Orion’s plans…” He gulped, hands trembling. “He’s also saying you’re next… We need to stop him as soon as possible!”

“Agreed,” he replied with his head turning back to the lone renegade. “Do you have a plan?”

“I…” Another gulp. “I don’t!”

He was getting impatient with all of this.

“Fine.”

 Noticing a little space between the blade and the throat it threatened to slash, Nosaka picked the ball from Ichihoshi’s arms and calculated an angle as quickly as possible. He had only a couple seconds, if not frames, to have it hit as perfectly as possible, lives being on the line more than previously. Yet, he lacked the time to think about it, so he kicked the ball and hoped for the shoot to do as hoped.

A smirk drew itself on his face when the knife was launched away from the vicious hand, flying in the air, as the hostage freed himself and the blade fell back to the floor, clinking against the tiles. Not leaving the time to the man to react properly, he rushed to the latter, putting his foot as firmly as possible over the guilty wrist. If his intent wasn’t to directly cause pain, there was still a desire in him to do so festering inside his chest.

“Ichihoshi, go get some help, please,” he ordered as calmly as possible, even if the flame was becoming a fire by the moment.

“C-coming!”

 Events after that passed by in a flash. Cries from his teammates, grunts from the assailant, panic, phone calls, sirens. The dopamine rush he had had when tackling the culprit had disappeared as soon as it had come, leaving him to just observe things from a distant point of view, trying to keep himself under control.

He walked mechanically out of the situation, rummaging through a sea of boggled thoughts. Coming after him was one thing: he expected it. Ichihoshi had been tasked with neutralizing him by Orion until fairly recently. However, coming after people close to him to get to him had nothing on that. While one could have argued Ichihoshi had always been a risk for being a former disciple of Orion, it couldn’t justify coming after Nishikage, who had merely been as much of an adversary of Orion as everyone else. Someone made personal what had always been a conflict of collectives and, to that, he may have wanted to punch a wall.

 The door opens right next to him, reminding him to break away from his thoughts. It’s only been a couple hours at most since this entire disaster unfolded, and even then, he’s trying to convince himself it’s been longer than that. Well, even the best of lies won’t work in this situation, so he shakes his head and faces his captain, with whom he’s just had a talk.

Truth be told, Endou had never been the type to hold a grudge against a teammate, even when they had almost committed a crime. It wasn’t that Nosaka had been surprised to be immediately forgiven right after he had finished explaining everything with rage still trembling inside his throat, as it was but the opposite way around: he was more so astonished by Endou not sharing his point of view on the situation. In fact, faced with the anger of a captain whom hadn’t been informed about the message or neither of Ichihoshi or his theories on the matter, he had almost run out of words, yet defended his position anyway.

 Endou’s opinions made sense, he has to admit. The smile and soft tap on his shoulder much less.

“He’s asked for you,” he tells him, a thumb pointing at the door frame. “You should speak to him yourself. See you later!”

On that, Endou takes his leave, leaving his secondary captain alone in the middle of a echoing corridor and a door that just has to have conveyed their conversation on the other side of the room.

 Left with no choice, Nosaka takes a deep breath and enters. There is a galaxy of somewhat similar events where he wasn’t scared by having to confront Nishikage. Not even the tumour intimidated him into being unsure of the outcome of the conversation. However, all previous certitudes are now lying on the floor, because this isn’t the same as before: the situation has changed, his responsibilities too. Mind racing to process through the memories, trying not to succumb to anxiety, he makes his way in.

The discussion about that tumour keeps nagging at him, but he quickly busts out what allows it to do so. Put into perspective, it only affected him: even if he had betrayed Nishikage’s trust by hiding that away from him like he had hid it away from the world until that point, it had never affected Nishikage himself. This, however, is a different situation: should have he guessed not to have been the second bird, this would have never happened. Injustice has always made his blood boil, from the day he was conscious enough to understand the concept, and knowing he’s partially responsible for it this time around makes him want to go back in time and defy the odds to do so.

Instead, he’s just faced with the fatality of facing his own misplays in this messed-up chess game.

 He doesn’t sit on the chair he can guess to still be warm. He only feels like staying up, so he doesn’t have to prevent his eyes from noticing every detail that bothers him. Still, he’s a diplomat of sorts, a representative of Japan to the rest of the world and the captain whenever Endou isn’t on the field. He should be able to talk to a teammate, especially one as close as this one.

“I’ll admit I don’t know what you expect from me,” he starts, unsure himself of what he’s supposed to do right now, scoffing at himself with an excuse for a laugh. “I don’t know what to say, or rather, how to say it.”

Silence on the other side of the line. He doesn’t look up to see what this translates into visually.

“I should have been more careful than that. I blindly assumed I’d be next and forgot they could get to you instead. You were only collateral damage in all this. For that, I’m deeply sorry. It shouldn’t have been this way.”

 He crosses his arms and tries not to sulk. It’d be a dumb thing to do on his part. He’s guilty as charged, doesn’t deserve to be the pitied one. Not that either of them would appreciate pity of all feelings. He believes what he’s feeling is sympathy and not dirty pity, perhaps closer to empathy, but in the end, it’s all words and nuances for nothing. Overthinking what to call something won’t fix the things he’s allowed breaking.

 “Nosaka.”

The calm tone in Nishikage’s voice almost makes him jump, eyes now on his teammate. To his surprise, he gets greeted by what he thinks is a smile.

“What is it?” He gathers himself in time for a reply.

“It’s fine.”

Short and straight to the point. As expected, coming from Nishikage. Still, the sentiment behind it is more perplexing.

“You… do mean it, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

 Nosaka feels a smile coming to his face, inexorable.

“Well then. You don’t mind having been attacked because you were my aide?”

“No.”

There’s just something so much more convincing to a dry, single word, than any long speech he could be given.

“Hearing you say this gives me relief. I’ll be more careful next time so that doesn’t happen again. This was already one time too many.”

“Don’t beat yourself over this, Nosaka. It’s fine. I understand.”

“…Thank you. In fact, thank you for always being there.”

“That’s nothing.”

 Silence rises up again and he goes to finally sit on the chair, whose gone cold. The air isn’t as heavy anymore, yet they don’t exchange words: they’re silent and content in being so, it seems, and he doesn’t have the words to break through it. There is nothing to be added anyway: they’ve made their cases, their points and, in the end, he gets to postpone guilting over all this sometime later, when he’ll have a clearer mind. When the heat of the moment will have passed, when the optimism of the team will intoxicate him again and he’ll have his wounds patched up by the sun.

He likes the calm between two storms much more than as he thought he would until now.

[aweebwrites]

Original Ending

So you guys remember that fic I wrote for Ninjago Valentine's Week? I had to cut it short because mobile but here's the original ending. If you haven't read it, I recommend doing so to understand this since I didn't start from the top. Enjoy!

_______________________

"You wanted to talk?" Zane prompts curiously.

"Yeah..." Cole says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly before stepping closer, ignoring the frigid water lapping at his hooves. "I kinda wanted to say something a long time ago but I didn't know how to say it, you know?" He says, pulling something out of the small satchel he always carries and lowered himself to his knees, shivering when the cold water lapped at his underbelly but ignoring it in favor of what he held in his hand.

Zane on the other had was still curious but was anticipating now. Was he saying what he hoped he was?

"I talked to Nya during the summer for the best thing I could offer you to not screw this up and well..." Zane lifted himself up on his hands unconsciously, heart pounding as Cole stretched his hand out to him.

Zane gasped softly, seeing the gorgeous pearl in his hand, his eyes widening as his pale cheeks turned light blue with his version of a blush.

"I really like you Zane... More... More than just friends." Cole says, glancing away as his tail flicked anxiously. "And I was hoping you'd let me court you." He says, catching the mer's eyes again, swallowing nervously.

"Cole..." Zane says breathlessly, in awe of the large pearl and at his words. "Of course. Yes." As if there was ever a doubt.

There was no question about it. He had been nursing a crush for the strong stallion with a kind smile and gentle hands since he first met him. He hadn't said anything up until now, despite what Nya told him because he was seen as a monster and he didn't think he could handle the rejection when crush spiraled into love so quickly.

"Really?!" Cole says, baffled yet excited.

"Really." Zane smiled, accepting the pearl and craidling it gently, core warming at the sight of it.

He's never seen any this big before. His webbed hand couldn't fully close over it.

"Great." Cole says with a relieved sigh before grinning wide.

Zane looked up at Cole again and shifted closer, reaching out and tugging him down by the wool vest. Cole flushed, now nose to nose with the beautiful cold water mer.

"May I... Kiss you?" Zane asked softly, learning the term from Nya and seeing it from Jay and Kai.

It seems like a very important part of courting for land creatures so he would like to do the same with his land creature.

"U-um yeah. Sure." Cole got out, face red but anticipation building inside him.

Zane nods once before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Cole's.

‘Hot…’ Was Zane's first thought at his first kiss.

Cole was having opposite thoughts but neither minded. Taking the initiative, Cole cupped Zane's cheek and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against Zane's longer and smoother one. He tasted so much like cold and ocean and… And Zane. A low crooning sound had Cole pulling back, curious to the sound and where it came from. Instead, he saw Zane with cheeks blue with blush and lips puffy from their kiss.

“Forgive me. I only make that sound when I'm-”

“Wait, you made that sound?” Cole asked, surprised.

Zane nods and Cole… Found he liked it.

“Oh, OK.” Cole nodded as he swiped his thumb against his cheek he still held, smiling warmly once Zane leaned into it. "I know things won't be easy what with me being a centaur and you a mer but I went to this sea witch earlier-"

"You what?!" Zane hissed, flinching back with wide eyes as he almost dropped the pearl.

"I- um... I went to a sea witch..." Cole says, taken aback and confused at Zane's horrified expression.

"Sea witches are not to be trusted Cole! They are tricky and devious beings! Whatever they promised you will come at a cost you may not be able to pay!" Zane says, breathing picking up, worrying for his courted. "What did you ask them to do?" He asked, hoping there was a way out of it.

"I asked her for something that would let me breathe under water so I could be with you there." Cole says quietly and Zane couldn't help but awe at his thoughtfulness.

"Cole... That was thoughtful of you but we could have made it work still. I can breathe air for as long as I'd like. My only concern would be drying out." He says, reaching up and cupped his cheek with his cold, webbed hand, making Cole shiver but lean into it. "You're cold. Let's head inside with the other and we can discuss how to get you out of this." He says as he slithered backwards into the water.

"She was trustworthy though. Even Master Wu trusts her." Cole says as he got up on all fours and began trotting along the coastline as Zane swum in the shallows, head out of the water.

Zane frowned at that. Master Wu is a dragon who can take a more humane form at will. He is almost as old as this world itself and was the one to teach them all about their powers. If he trusted a sea witch then they were trustworthy indeed. But even that didn't soothe Zane's worry.

"What did she give you?" Zane asked instead as he slithered along the coast really.

"Some kind of potion. She says it will only work when it's time. Sadly I didn't get when that time is." Cole huffed, slowing down as he came to the entrance to the cave where Kai left a few feathers in the outside wall to warn anyone who were not friends to stay away.

Phoenix harpies may be extremely rare but every creature knew their beautiful feathers anywhere and knew it meant agony if they trespassed.

"We'll talk more on the inside." Zane says and Cole watched as he slithered into deeper waters before diving under, his white and blue tailfin disappearing soon after.

Cole smiled to himself despite it all and headed inside, lowering his upper half until he got to the main cave that was nice and wide, able to fit them all and more. Inside, the light from outside was reflected inside thanks to the water, showing Kai who was preening Jay's feathers as they talked with Skylor and Nya who were in one of several pools in the cave. A splash alerted them that Zane had arrived and he climbed out of the main pool that lead to the sea into a slightly smaller one that was closer to the group and was easier to keep cool with his powers.

"Do you feel strange now? Or did you then?" Zane continued questioning.

"No. Not at all." Cole says, settling next to his pool, leaning against the edge.

"What's going on there?" Jay asked curiously.

"Cole went to a sea witch and I'm-"

"YOU WHAT?!" The others immediately blurted.

"Wu trusts her! Mistaké's pretty cool!" Cole defended.

"Oh." They all said, relieved.

"If Wu trusts her then it'll be fine." Kai dismissed, adding another blue feather to the small pile he had going.

"Yeah. Remember that time I got sick and set off this wicked storm that torched everything?" Jay asked, ruffling his right arm of feathers Kai was done with.

"How could I forget? One hit the pool and nearly fried me." Nya says drily.

"Yeah, still sorry about that... But! She came over and gave me some stuff to make me better and it worked in a few minutes! No side effect aside from being unable to use my lightning for a few hours." Jay shrugged.

"I suppose..." Zane relented, relaxing and trusting Wu's judgement.

He glanced down on the pearl firmly clutched in hand with a small smile Cole saw- and made him grin like a dork.

"Holy moley pearl!" Nya gasped, peaking over into his pool to see it.

"So you two are finally courting?" Skylor asked, flicking her tail back and forth in the water.

"Ye- finally?" Cole asked her with an arched brow.

"Nya's been telling me about you two for two years now. Honestly I was gonna intervene if you two didn't get together before we have to split up again." Skylor says with a smirk.

"Same." Kai says, running his talons carefully though the shorter feathers along Jay's thighs.

"I was just gonna dare Cole to say something." Jay shrugged.

"... I've been thinking..." Zane says, gaining their attention. "About splitting up. I was thinking... I should stay here." He says and Cole perked all the way up at that.

"And I could stay here too!" Cole says with a grin as he stood up, looking around the large sized cave. "I mean, it's about time I left the herd anyway. Me and my dad don't get along that much and... Well... I want to be anywhere you guys are." He shrugged and Zane fell in love all over again.

He was too precious.

"This is our favorite nest after all..." Kai shrugged.

"Plus the caves go a lot higher. Maybe even Master Wu can hang out here, and even the squirt." Jay suggests.

"It'll be a lot of work fixing this place up more but it'll be worth it in the end..." Nya shrugged.

"I wouldn't mind sticking around either." Skylor says as Nya wrapped her seal skin around her neck after she took it off.

"And with the pools already here and se- cure?!" Cole yelped once the rock below his back hooves gave away, sending him tumbling back into the water despite his desperate grasping of the rock with his front hooves.

"Cole!" His friends' panicked scream of his name was all he heard before there was water over his head and- he had to hold his breath!

He kicked against the water, trying to swim to the top but the current was dragging him further down, out of the water entrance to the cave and further on still. He couldn't surface! He could swim- all Centaurs could- but this current was too strong. He felt clawed hands under his arms trying to pull him up, a second pair holding him under his front hooves and yet another trying to push him up but it was no use. His lungs were on fire! He had to breathe! If he didn't, he'd die! And if he did, the results were the same.

His vision began to blur as his kicks began to lose stamina. He saw panicked blue eyes before a white tail passing by upwards. He couldn't hold his breath any longer... He was going to... Cold lips pressed against his, breathing air into his lungs but it wasn't enough. His lung capacity is greater than a mer's. As soon as his mouth pulled away, he breathed in. The burning stopped at least but now he couldn't feel anything but the feeble working of his throat and lungs, trying to get air still as he we dragged along the current like a ragdoll. He reached out to touch his face once more but somewhere mid stretch, everything went dark.

"Cole! No!" Zane screamed once his eyes went dim and his heartbeat stopped but his scream was nothing but bubbles under the water.

Nya gritted her teeth as she held him still, tears vanishing instantly in the water.

"We're out of the current now. Let's get him to the surface." Skylor says through clicks urgently, not willing to give up.

They can save him. They will! Zane swallowed then nodded, all of them holding a section and swimming up away from where they knew the currant was. When they broke the water, it was to anxious phoenix and storm harpies hovering over the water.

Jay gasped once he realised he wasn't moving, his red rimmed eyes filling with tears.

"Is he?..." Kai whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"We have to get him to shore. Now." Skylor says, even as they swam as fast as they could with him.

They pushed him up onto shore, Kai dropping down and checking his pulse. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"No way in hell you're leaving us now Cole!" Kai yelled then began pushing at the torso of his horse half, barely budging it. "Dammit! I'm too light! Zane, Nya-" He stopped once he saw both mers and selkie not too far behind Cole, Nya comforting Zane as Skylor looked at him.

She shook her head and Kai gritted his teeth as he clenched his talons into his palm. Zane pulled away from a sobbing Nya to lean closer to Cole, trembling webbed hand brushing back his long hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. As if he was sleeping. He felt so numb as he gently stroked his pale cheek, not hearing his own anguished sobs over the deafening ringing in his ears but feeling them rock his body. He just got him…

Jay looked down at his best friend miserably, half blinded by his own tears. He was useless. Utterly useless in rescuing him. If he had… If he had… Done something other than spectating then maybe… Maybe… Kai pulled him into his chest, kissing the top of his head as he shook, his breathing heavy between choked off sobs.

“We-” Kai's choked up words died on his tongue once he noticed something. “What’s with that green glow?” He whispered, gaining Jay's attention.

He peeked out from Kai's feathers, at the body of their friend and realised that he was right. There was a weird smokey green glow around him now that turned the skin of his upper half the same green.

“Guys!” Jay yelled, drawing their attention to him.

“What is that?” Skylor asked as she shifted closer.

Nya gasped then.

“He drank a potion from Mistaké! Do you think-”

Her question was answered by Cole suddenly gasping, his instincts sending him to his hooves and out of the shallows, nearly giving Zane a heart attack. Said mer blinked owlishly at his courted, hand over his wildly beating heart as Cole coughed up an unhealthy amount of water from his lungs, his legs wobbling as he did so.

“Cole?!” Kai gasped as the centaur panted heavily, blinking confused.

“K-Kai?” Cole rasped, confused.

Didn't he just…

“Cole!” Jay screeched happily launching himself at his best friend,  wrapping himself around his upper half and digging his talons into his flesh and repeatedly zapping him with his happy electricity.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Cole hissed and pried him off of him. “Glad to see you too pal but I still have feelings!” He says,  holding him back at arm's length.

“Just checking.” Jay says cheekily then gave him a relieved smile. “I'm just glad you're back, no matter whatever you are now.” He says as Kai collected his mate.

“Yeah. You had us all for a while there.” Kai says with a grin as Cole looked himself over.

“Why am I green?” Cole asked as he looked at his hands then chest and hide.

His hide was still black but with a weird low green glow… He gasped.

“Am I a ghost?! Or a zombie?!” He asked, freaking out.

Nya huffed out a laugh as she leaned against Skylor. Yep. This is their Cole.

“Neither actually.” Zane spoke up, shock finally wearing off.

Cole's eyes instantly locked onto his courted before he approached, not feeling the coldness water at all. Not when he had Zane here, when he had a second chance with him.

“Zane…” Cole whispered as he lowered himself to his knees in the water, reaching down-and-out cupping both of his cheeks.

“Up North… There's a name for what you are now…” Zane whispered, reaching up a webbed hand to cup his cheek as well. “Kelpie.” He murmured, urging himself closer, his other hand tracing the beginnings of gills at the side of his lower half.

“Doesn't matter too much to me. I'm just glad I get a second chance with you.” Cole murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Zane smiled softly, glad too. But after a day like today? He just wanted to curl up and sleep with his beloved.

*****************

Bonus:

“You know, I just realised. I could have tried shocking your heart.” Jay says a week later, perched on the edge of Cole and Zane's shared pool where Cole was getting used to breathing underwater.

“Yeah, no. You still don't have your voltage settings under control.” Cole says with narrow eyes,  switching to air so he could speak. “All you'd do is make it impossible for me to come back.” He huffed, nuzzling Zane's throat where his mark would be when they were ready.

Zane only crooned, wrapping his tail around his front hoof as he pressed closer. That day gave him nightmares still but talking about it like this seems to help.

“Really, thank you for not doing that.” Zane says with a smirk, making Cole and Kai snicker while Jay pouted.

“And you were here when Mistaké came to talk to us. Cole was meant to die that day. There was nothing we could have done to change it.” Nya says, leaning on the edge of her pool and messing up the feathers in Kai's hair below.

It had ate at her how the water currant wouldn't listen to her, despite her being able to control nearly all aspects of water. She accepted it after that explanation. After all, faith was a fickle thing…

“I'm curious about you and Nya.” Kai says to Zane. “You need to stay in cold water and Nya needs to stay in warm. Sure the lake is pretty huge but I don't think it can do both.” He says, looking up at Nya.

“It can't right now but with some new currants and Zane's affinity for ice, it'll be cozy for us both. We can always meet up on the middle for a few hours too.” She shrugged.

“But aren't cold water mers territorial?” Skylor asked as she swung her purple scaled legs back and forth in the water from Nya's pool, her serpent tail doing the same.

“Just as much as your average warm water mer. If food is scarce on the other hand…” Zane says, recalling witnessing death matches over territory with plentiful food.

“It won't come to that. All of the lake is our territory- we made that clear. Even when Wu, Lloyd and whoever else we decide on get here in spring, we'll still have a lot of food to spare. Don't worry about it.” Cole says, pecking Zane's nose the mer promptly wrinkled cutely.

“We made clear? You mean you.” Skylor snorted. “Every squatter was scared speechless seeing a kelpie rise up out of the lake like a demon, flashing fangs and glowing green eyes. Hell, I nearly took off too.” She admits and they chuckled.

“Yeah. If anyone here is territorial, it's you.” Kai grinned.

“Luckily a certain someone just loves that~” Jay cooed and they all laughed at the blushing couple.

Zane smiled despite it though. His pod was unique but he loved them all.

(I love this au so much! You can definitely expect to see more of it popping up! Feel free to drop by in the asks if you have questions! My sleeping schedule is all over so I'll answer them as soon as I see them!)

[blueplanettrash]

Prompt: mer lance gets captured and they try to sell his scales? If you want to of course.

Sorry for the break guys! I hope you enjoy this story!

“Whoa! Look at all of this stuff,” Hunk said in amazement. They smiled at the obvious curiosity on Hunk’s face and glanced around at the trinkets around them. They were planet-side, after rescuing the entire thing from a Galra attack. They told Allura and Coran that they were going to visit the planet’s marketplace, because it was filled with all kinds of things from many different alien races.

“Hey guys, check this out!” They turned at Lance’s voice and saw him standing by the stall keeper with a small bottle of what looked to be water. They quirked a brow in question. He smirked and poured it over his arm and watched as their mouths dropped in surprise.

“Holy crow!” Pidge gasped before reaching out and running her fingers down his arm. The scales almost looked like mother of pearl when they glinted in the light. The shopkeeper cleared their throat and they looked over at them.

“We call this, Veil,” they explained holding up an identical bottle to the one Lance was holding. “It’s most often used for young shapeshifters to determine what they really look like, so they can begin transforming into something else,”

They nodded in interest and were about to ask more questions but were interrupted by a squawk. Once again they turned to Lance and saw him standing in surprise with his arm in the hand of an alien. They looked to be richer than the general public and they were wearing what looked like a fur coat.  

“My goodness, what beautiful scales!” They said excitedly. They looked up at Lance with a wide smile. “I’ll give you 12000 GAC for a pair of them, they’d make such lovely earrings,” Lance regarded them with wide eyes.

“Um, n-no thanks,” he said hesitantly. The alien’s face fell into a pout.

“Well, why not? Did I not offer you enough?” They asked. “15000? 20000? Whatever you want,” They tried.

“Well, no, it’s because it’s really painful to pull them out,”  he answered honestly. The alien pulled away with a gasp and a hand to their chest.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry,” they said quickly, fluttering nervously around him. Just like that the tense air disappeared and Lance rushed to comfort them.

“It’s not your fault,” Lance said waving his hands around. After a few minutes of conversation between the two of them, the alien left with a smile on their face and Lance turned back to the team.

“Is it bad that I’m severely flattered right now?” He asked them with a blush on his face. Pidge huffed out a laugh and elbowed him in the side.

“Well, they’re not wrong, you have really pretty scales,” she said taking his arm again. “Even I wouldn’t mind having this shit on jewelry,”

“Same,” Hunk said taking Lance’s other arm.

“Who wouldn’t?” Shiro asked looking over the top of Lance’s shoulder.

“They would go with my knife pretty well,” Keith smirked from the other shoulder. Lance finally tugged his arms back and back away from them with raised arms. He slid in a mock defensive pose and struck out at random areas.

“Don’t fuck with me! I’ve got the power of God and anime on my side!” He yelled, taking a second to direct the light off of his scales into Keith’s eye with a smirk. Keith clapped a hand over his face with a curse and lunged towards Lance, who immediately bolted down one of the side alleys. He bolted down the alley but stopped when he lost sight of Lance, he looked around in confusion then walked back to the team who were still in the same spot as before.

“Where’d Lance go?” Shiro asked when he noticed that he wasn’t trailing behind him. Keith shrugged his shoulders, still glancing around.

“I don’t know, he disappeared when I chased after him,” he replied scratching the back of his neck. He was noticeably worried now. Lance tried to never wander off after the incident with Nyma.

“Everyone, keep your eyes open,” Shiro decided. “He can’t of gone far,”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Lance yelled once his captor finally took their hand off of his mouth. There were two of them, one of them the same size as Hunk and the other the size of Keith. They looked at him with matching smirks and he felt his blood freeze.

“I’m a paladin you know, you’ll get in big trouble for this you know,” he tried. They ignored him and the smaller of the two began tying him down to the metal table in the centre of the room while the larger held him down. He cursed himself for not wearing his armour for this trip like Shiro decided to. He gasped when suddenly a bucket of water splashed on top of him. He groaned when he felt his transformation coming on, and realized that they must have dumped Veil on him instead. His tail ripped through his jeans and he fell limp as he rested in pain.

“Looks like we’ll be richer than we thought, Fren,” the smaller one said as the other looked at his tail in amazement.

“We’d never have to do anything for the rest of our lives, Hax,” he said in awe. Lance took the chance to look to the side and sink his now razor sharp teeth into Hax’s arm. He let out a loud shout of pain and tried to jerk away but Lance held strong and growled into the meat of the alien. Even as he felt chains now going over his tail to keep it still, he ground down harder into the trembling arm. Only when a strong fist struck his jaw, did he let his mouth fall open and allow the bleeding appendage to escape.

“Jeez Hax, are you okay?” he heard Fren ask. He almost felt bad for what he did but decided to let the implications of where he was, sink in again. He yelped when Hax slapped him across the face, making him have to blink away the blackness in his vision after the hit.

“Put a muzzle or something on him, I gotta bandage this up,” he heard Hax say. He tried to spit the blood out of his mouth but wasn’t able to before a hand was grabbing the back of his head and a black, metal muzzle was roughly strapped to his face.

“Let’s just get this over with and dump him,” Hax said as he came back in the room. Fren simply nodded and picked up something that resembled pliers. Lance immediately bucked up trying to escape the restraints.

His head fell back with a shriek when the first scale came loose from his tail. The pain was unimaginable, he could only tremble in shock as Fren started digging underneath the second scale. Tears started rolling down in his ears and his head fell limply to watch Fren. His eyes widened when he saw him drop them in a dirty glass jar as if they were just beads from a child’s friendship bracelet.

“Not so tough now, huh Blue Paladin,” Hax smirked walking up to Lance’s head. He shakily turned his head to look at the other alien.

“W-we s-s-saved your planet, w-why are you doing t-this to m-me?” He cried. Hax’s fingers went through the muzzle’s caged and tugged it more to make Lance look directly into his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what you or your team did,” he said with a sadistic smile. “I don’t care, all I care about is money and you’re worth a lot of it,” he stated gesturing to his scales. He let out a teary sob as Fren was able to pry the third scale from his tail. He wanted to pull his arms from the restraints but the pain made his arms feel like jelly. Hax patted his cheek and walked towards his tail with another pair of pliers. Panic shot through Lance but he could only limply roll his head around, sob, and scream.

He didn’t notice when his friends burst through the door of the workshop, or when he was unchained, but only when he felt the soft touch of cloths did he look around to see Pidge, Hunk, and Keith gently wiping Veil off of his body. He turned his head straight to look up at a distraught looking Shiro. He carefully unclasped the straps of the muzzle and threw it across the room, to hit an unconscious Fren in the face.

“Lance we are so sorry we didn’t get here quicker,” Shiro apologized with tears in his eyes. Lance gave him a small smile and shook his head.

“It’s not your guy’s fault, I’m just glad you made it in time,” he said sincerely. Shiro gave a hesitant smile back before he scooped Lance up and put a towel on his lap in case he changed back before they returned to the Castle. They almost got out of the door before Lance’s head shot up and he looked back to the table.

“Keith grab that jar,” he demanded pointing toward the table.

“What? Why?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Lance gave him a tired glare.

“Just do it,” he ground out. Keith huffed but obediently turned back and snatched the jar. He only understood when he looked down and saw the blue scales shining back at him. He gulped and silently handed the jar to Lance, who looked exhausted. Shiro continued walking through the door and soon enough they were nearing Black. Lance decided to peer into the jar and count them. He leaned back onto Shiro’s shoulder with a shallow laugh.

“All that pain for four measly scales?” He stated brokenly. Shiro gazed at him with sad eyes and tried to concentrate.

“Sometimes when a person doesn’t have enough beauty of their own, they try to take it from the most beautiful, even at the consequence of the other,” Shiro said quietly. Lance looked up at him, puzzlement practically dripping off of him. “What I mean to say is that they’re worth much more than you think they are, and that’s why they’re so hard to get away from you because you’re worth so much,” he tried to explain frantically.

“I think I understand Shiro,” Lance said. Shiro sighed in relief and they climbed into Black. Shiro handed Lance off to Hunk, and they took off into the sky towards the Castle.

“Oh my God Lance,” Pidge cried when his tail finally transformed back into legs. He winced looking at the chunks of flesh that were missing from his legs. They were still bleeding slightly and looked to be in the same spots where his scales were taken from.

“You have to go in the pod man,” Hunk said with worry. Lance shook his head and pulled his legs up.

“No, just bandage them, I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

“This could cause serious damage Lance,” Keith said with worry etched on his face. Lance sighed but stuck his legs out again.

“I don’t know how the pod will heal my tail, so I want to make sure my scales grow back my way,” he pleaded looking instead at Shiro. He thought for a moment but sighed and picked up the bandages. Lance sent him a grateful smile and waited patiently for him to finish.

“Thank you,” he said when Shiro tied off the last knot and stood up.

“I just hope you’re right about this,” he said, putting away the bandages. “Why don’t you rest up for a little bit and join us in the lounge when you’re feeling up to it,” he suggested. He smiled and nodded his head, waving at them when they left the room. He hopped up from the table and grabbed the jar of his scales. Instead of turning towards the quarters, he headed towards the bridge. He glanced around inside the room and his eyes finally feel on Coran.

“Coran!” He called. The altean’s head turned to him in question.

“How are you, my boy? I heard what happened over the coms from Number 5,” he asked.

“I’m fine Coran,” he said with a smile. “I was wondering if you would be able to help me though,”

Everyone looked over at Lance when he entered the lounge. He had his hands behind his back and looked at them hesitantly. They jumped up, thinking that he had been hurt again in some way and quickly approached them.

“Lance, are you okay?” Shiro asked. He nodded silently and thrust his hands out. They looked at the dangling leather bands in confusion but each took them in their hands. He opened his hands and let the shiny blue scales fall from his hands to their own necklaces. Their eyes widened and looked at Lance.

“They were already pulled out, I wanted each of you to have a part of me with you always,” he explained scratching the back of his neck. “Unless that’s weird, then you can just throw it away I guess,” he said flustered waving his hands around sporadically.

“Lance that’s so beautiful!” Hunk cried lunging forward to pull his friend into a hug. Pidge quickly joined in followed by Shiro and Keith.

“Thank you so much, Lance,” Shiro said earnestly. Thank yous spilled from the other’s lips as the hug got tighter and tighter around them.

“It’s the least I could do,”

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