#I wish people would just admit their privilege and reflect a bit

[hylialeia]

thoughts on the Daevabad Trilogy, short version: holy shit that was good

longer version:

holy shit that was good.

I adored the writing style, the imagery, the worldbuilding, the characters, the character dynamics, and the pacing all the way through. I first picked up this series because of how Global Medievalism talked about it as a stepping stone away from Eurocentric medieval fantasy and it definitely delivered. this is tied with Spinning Silver for my favorite recent reads--which is even more impressive since SS was a standalone, meanwhile this series kept up a consistently high quality across three separate books.

after Fourth Wing masquerading as a rich, complex adult fantasy and then being What It Actually Was, this was an immensely satisfying series to pick up. it skirts the fantasy staple of the Inherently Evil Race/Species that so many works fall into (even asoiaf with the Others) and instead opts to explore in-depth religious and racial prejudices, revolutions, bigotry, power, and privilege in ways that can be frightening for a lot of authors (and readers). I can see why this series would frustrated a large swath of fantasy fans and not just because it steps completely away from the Europe-but-slightly-to-the-left settings that they're so familiar with; people looking for escapism and a palatable black-and-white conflict definitely wouldn't find it here.

that said, I also think the narrative did a fantastic job of showcasing the brutality of oppression, as well as cycles of revenge and violence, without turning into a sermon about how anyone who fights back is Just As Bad as the oppressor. you can sympathize with any faction within the trilogy while still seeing that there's a clear hierarchy. this is a series that asks the reader to be open minded and to sympathize with a variety of people's suffering while still condemning heinous actions, crimes, and ways of thinking. portrayals of violence, swearing, and sex aside, this is where I believe the adult label is earned. the Daevabad Trilogy outshines Fourth Wing in its entirety, actually following through on promises of depth, complexity, and exploration.

I don't think the series reaches into absolutely flawless territory; on reflection, there are a lot of scenes I wish we'd seen happening in the moment rather than summarized or briefly flashed back to. this goes especially for the end of the last book, Empire of Gold, which would have enhanced the pacing quite a bit. there's a bit of rushing through the final battle, and though it's still quite fantastic and follows through on a deal of foreshadowing and character build-up, it definitely feels over too soon. there are also a few loose ends and potential conflicts when it comes to the characters themselves that the series felt too tired to actually flesh out by the end. I can forgive that chiefly because of just how well-rounded and consistent the characters themselves are, even despite those instances.

and holy shit did I adore these characters. I've only seen the barest tip of the iceberg of discourse this series caused (which I'm sure was insane when it first came out), but thankfully the 10 million+ Way More Problematic Characters (that I also love) in asoiaf has made me immune to whatever the hell was going on over there. I also couldn't get involved in a ship war if you paid me.

I think the first book made a good call only having Nahri and Ali's POVs not just from a technical standpoint (Dara's POV wouldn't have added much, and may have even spoiled some meaningful twists) but also in priming the reader for what is the heart of the entire trilogy: their dynamic. Nahri and Ali carry the series whether they're young, platonic best friends who should be enemies, awkward ex-friends who still get a long way too well, or best friends who are deeply in love which each other but too traumatized to admit it. they both stand incredibly well as individuals (evidenced by the fact that they don't even meet until over the halfway mark in the first book), with Ali being a particular favorite of mine from the very beginning. their opposite upbringings yet similar interests made them a fantastic duo, one where it made sense the impact each one would have on the other's journey. there's something so incredibly endearing about their inability to legitimately dislike each other despite their circumstances, one that makes sense based on their already established personalities; they propel the series' most meaningful moments.

for the elephant in the room: as frustrating as Dara's POV could be I found it a worthy and fascinating addition in the later books, one that I think a lot of people missed the weight of if they were too busy excusing him/hating him. his perspective, biased and misguided as it often was, provided so much rich exploration of the trilogy's overall themes: militarism, religious fanaticism, prejudice, free will, just war, revolution, cycles of violence, conditioning and abuse, etc. that so much of this seemed to fall to the wayside in a strive to decide if he was excusable or not (and thus a viable love interest or not) is a huge shame. his ending was, to me, profoundly satisfying; not redeemed but finally allowed to act of his own free will, no longer bound by outside magic or internalized religious obligation. I never violently disliked Dara and Nahri's romantic entanglement so much as I knew it was doomed from the moment Ali had a POV chapter.

the secondary characters were no less engaging for me, especially as their prominence grew throughout the books, antagonists or otherwise. it was refreshing to see Muntadhir and Jamshid's individual characters (and thus their relationship) become a more prominent aspect of the story--again, especially after the tokenism in Fourth Wing. side characters always seemed to have deeper personalities and roles to play, with even early character deaths like Anas having lasting impacts for our main POVs. their presence was as vital to the immersion and depth of the world as much as the setting and imagery--which are also aspects that completely blew me away. from character, technical, to thematic standpoints, the Daevabad Trilogy absolutely amazed me.

final thoughts and rating: if you give me a book where two married characters are in love with the other's brother and expect me not to give it a high rating you're insane. 8/10. maybe even 9/10. go read these books.

[barbarastreisandof]

13% of the Palestinian population is Jewish... where do you get this statistic from? I promise I'm not doubting it, I'm genuinely curious. I thought all Palestinian Jews (old yishuv and jews who arrived late 1800's to 1940's) became Israelis in 1948, and generally now live outside the West Bank and Gaza.

I think it's also dangerous to sell those facts as wholesale, I'll admit. Vivian Silver, one of the women who died in the attacks or in the crossfire, regularly helped drive Palestinians to hospitals within Israeli borders, and used her privilege to stand up for them at checkpoints.

Hi anon

I will post my original sources as soon as I'm able to find them. It's a bit of information I came across over the past year and not something I've had saved so I'm currently digging through old searches to find it again. To be clear, I'm not only speaking about people in the West Bank and Gaza - I am referring to all people who identify as Palestinian Arab and Jewish. I can't guarantee it's entirely up to date - it may be data from a decade ago - so it be lower now, say 10%, or could be slightly higher.

I'll remove it from the post for the time being till I can link to the source.

Also, more broadly, you're free to doubt me. I don't expect, or want, anyone to take what I'm saying as gospel. If anything I say sounds questionable or doubtful, by all means, doubt me and interrogate my points and research them or dig deeper. I'm not offended at being doubted - I'm a series of texts posts on a screen, there's little reason to trust what I say without critical thought or reflection and if something I post doesn't sit right, it makes sense to me to challenge it.

To your latter point, I am not saying there are no Israelis sympathetic to Palestinians. I am saying that the narrative that this is a problem of governments and not the people themselves is disingenuous when a majority of Israelis are NOT in favor of a single state where Palestinians are given equal rights and say in the governing of the land. To the point of Vivian Silver, I am not familiar with her specifically. What you've described, however, does not mean she saw Palestinians as equally human or deserving of liberation. It might sound harsh, but those facts alone don't communicate how she saw Palestinians as people or whether she would support true equity and liberation for the Palestinian people.

I personally know people who marched during the Civil Rights movement in the US and who supported black Americans at the time who currently oppose defunding the police and consider many outspoken black liberation activists to be too extreme and unreasonable in their demands.

Her actions and behaviors show a basic regard for Palestinian life that is often missing, but I want to be careful not to valorize those actions - those actions are part of what all Israelis owe to all Palestinians. It is not saintly or heroic for an Israeli to treat Palestinians with the same humanity and regard that they would show other Israelis. Beyond that, I can't say much because that alone is not sufficient information to surmise her politics, which from context I feel is what you're wanting me to comment on, i.e. "Here is an example of an Israeli leftist who stood with Palestine who was killed" which is not a sentiment I can agree with without knowing more about this person. Lastly, I will say, I have neither seen nor heard anything in all my reading or conversations to suggest that any Palestinian, including anyone in Hamas, would wish death upon her or want to kill anyone like her. I have seen and read and engaged in many conversations that assure me that there are many Israelis who would consider her a traitor and collaborator and want her dead for showing any basic decency to Palestinians. This is obviously subjective as I'm just reporting my own experiences, but nothing you've shared here compels me to modify any of my original points.

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Wedding | Corpse Husband

Requested? Nah 

Warnings? None?

Summary: You and Corpse go to your best friend’s wedding together. 

Word Count: 1,549

“Do I have to?” Corpse asks from across the room. 

“You didn’t just ask that,” you say, turning to look at your boyfriend who’s sitting on your shared hotel bed. 

“I’m sorry I’m just nervous,” he admits fiddling with his hands and you smile at your boyfriend. 

You walk over to Corpse, taking his hands into yours causing him to look up at you. You trail a hand up to his chin, tilting his head up so he’s looking into your eyes. 

“It’s gonna be okay I promise,” you say and Corpse nods slightly. 

You lean down, pressing a light kiss to his lips and his hands find their way to your hips quickly. When you let go, you’re both smiling widely at each other and you run a hand through his hair before reaching up to fix his collar. 

“Ready?” you ask, running your hands over his shoulders. 

“Ready baby.” 

Today, your best friend was getting married and you were beyond excited. It was such a privilege that she wanted you to be her maid of honor. You loved seeing her happy and content in a relationship and her trust restored in a man she loved. 

You also got to bring Corpse, the love of your life as your date to the wedding. You couldn’t wait to finally introduce him to your friends as your boyfriend. The two of you never made it out much, Corpse aiming to keep his identity a secret which you respected no matter what. 

So, for him to agree to this wedding meant everything to you. You were beyond ecstatic that he would meet some of the people closest to you and they got to meet the man who stole and repaired your heart. 

When you got to the wedding, you and him headed inside the mansion that your best friend would be getting married outside of. You had to head in early to help out and Corpse would hang out around the place. 

“Happy wedding day!!” you yell as you walk into your best friend’s room. 

“Shut up!” she yells back jokingly before tackling you in a hug. 

“I can’t believe it!” you muse as you take a seat on the couch in the room and face your best friend. 

The two of you launch into the whole story, still shocked that the day was finally here. You were your best friend’s maid of honor and could watch her get married to the perfect guy. You had been dreaming about this together for years. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back I’m gonna check on Corpse and then we’ll add the finishing touches,” you say to your best friend before ducking out. 

You head out of the hidden room and back out to the main area where people are mingling. The mansion was open except for the upstairs area, leaving that for where your best friend would get ready. 

The downstairs was open, a place for people to walk through and sign the registry, and head towards the backyard for pre-wedding drinks and eventually where the reception would take place. 

You head out that way, figuring Corpse would want to grab a drink and relax away from people for a bit. You find him with ease, standing off to the side, a drink in his hand as predicted and surveying the people in front of him. 

“Hi darling,” you greet walking up to him. 

“Hello love,” he responds, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while slipping an arm around your waist. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Not too bad. A few people said hi but that’s it,” he says and you nod. 

“Well it should be starting soon and I have to help her with the finishing touches but you might wanna find a seat soon okay? I’ll be the one next to the bride.” 

You stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips which he happily returns. You let go and head back to your best friend. 

After helping your best friend with the final touches, everything is finally set. The wedding planner grabs you two and the rest of the bridesmaids and your second-hand nerves start to kick in. 

“How do I look?” she asks just before you’re about to walk out. 

“Stunning. I’m so happy for you.” 

The wedding planner motions you forward and you offer your best friend a wide smile before turning to walk down the aisle. The music swells around you, and you take in the beautiful scenery that surrounds the venue. 

The sun is just starting to set, creating a beautiful backdrop for the altar and you gaze over the rows of seats until you see him. Surprisingly, Corpse is sitting near the front with the rest of your best friend’s family and you wonder if that’s her doing or his. 

As you make your way up and stand next to the altar your eyes fall on him and the purest smile you’ve ever seen is emitted from the man. You’re certain you’re reflecting it, not being able to keep in how in love you feel. 

Your best friend makes her way down the aisle and you feel a few tears fall slowly as a result. She’s elegant in her dress, and you’re surprised you’re both not bawling at this point. 

The priest makes it through the formalities and offers your best friend and soon to be husband to exchange vows. As her fiancée begins to speak, you’re touched by the words prepared for your best friend. 

At this point, you risk a glance at Corpse and find his eyes are already on you. You wear the same smile you had earlier but as words of love fill the air you can’t help but mouth ‘i love you’ to the man who changed your life. 

Corpse smiles, mouthing ‘i love you too’ and adding a wink making you giggle quietly. The ceremony continues, and by the end, you’re practically sobbing. You watch as your best friend and her husband make their way down the aisle as a married couple and follow when it’s the appropriate time. 

“I’m married!” she yells when she sees you and you run and hug her. 

“You’re freaking married!” you repeat and the two of you are cackling in the mansion entryway. 

“Ready for the reception?” the wedding planner asks as the two of you calm down. 

“Hell yeah!”

You all make your way out and back to the backyard where the reception would take place. You know the minute you get out there you want to find Corpse, and most likely not leave his side for the rest of the night.

As you head to the back yard, you spot Corpse instantly. He sits at a table towards the back, relaxed as he surveys the scene once more. When he spots you though, a smile crosses his lips. He stands to greet you, and proceeds to wraps you up in his arms. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he says staring down at you. 

“You’ve told me a couple of times.” 

The two of you sit down at the table and Corpse takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. You enjoy each other’s presence as you wait for your best friend and her new husband to finally walk out. 

His hands cover yours, carefully running his fingers over your hands and you’re lost in his touch as you sit together. Your eyes trail over his features as he watches his own actions, focusing on the delicate touch he leaves on your skin. 

When your best friend finally comes out, the two of you turn to watch, the crowd standing to clap and greet the newlyweds. Your mind goes over the thought for a moment, if that was you and Corpse walking down and for a second you’re wishing it was. But you knew if you had to wait a thousand years for the boy in front of you you would. 

“Now may the newlyweds come out and have their first dance,” the DJ announces over the speaker, and your best friend and her husband walk out onto the dance floor. 

Even though you knew it was going to happen, you’re still left with tears in your eyes as Can't Help Falling in Love plays over the speakers, the version from Crazy Rich Asians. 

Your best friend spins about the room, looking like a princess, and as you and her lock eyes, she gestures for you to come dance too. You place a hand over your heart, mouthing ‘me?’ and she nods. 

Corpse must pick up this subtle hint first, because suddenly he’s standing and looking down at you, a soft smile placed on his lips. You look up at him, and he gestures to the dance floor making you smile wide. 

You take his hand, and together you make your way over to the makeshift dance floor. Corpse circles your wait with one arm, effectively pulling you close while the other takes your hand in his. Your arm rests around his shoulder and your eyes gaze into his. 

“I love you,” he says as you sway around the room. 

“I love you too,” you respond and lean up to press a kiss to his cheek.

[soranis-sunshadow]

Looking back

@cruelfeline wanted a snippet between Hordak and Glimmer where they contemplated on how much of a fuckup either of them is.

I took it as a prompt and I hope this little oneshot scratches that itch.

It was always better to go to a banquet than to host it, Glimmer thought to herself while making her way down the long hallway of the reclusive palace wing. If she felt at odds or tired or just not in the mood, all she had to do was signal Bow and he’d take her home. But as a host, she WAS home, there was nowhere else to go to. Besides, since she was the esteemed host, she couldn’t leave early. It would be in poor taste.

This year, the anniversary of the end of the war was hosted in Bright Moon and she had to find a secluded place in her own home to take a breather from all the commotion before she had to return to the party and smile and nod and… try not to feel like such an imposter.

She finally found her favorite overlook, the one where she came to sulk whenever her mother gave her a stern -and justified- talking to, the best view and the music of the party down in the main hall was muted. No sooner did she lay her hands upon the balustrade that she spotted movement to the periphery of her vision. It was another person she really didn’t want to interact with due to the sheer awkwardness: Hordak. He was sitting by himself in contemplation, looking on into the distance in the last light of the day.

She and he stood meters apart on the balcony in silence for a while. He seemed to look at peace while staring off into the sunset. She tried to do the same. Her maelstrom of thoughts made it difficult.

During the war, she had never met him face to face, all she knew was what other people said of him – both her own and other hordesmen that were captured and interrogated.

Their first meeting in the flesh had been memorable… for very terrible, nightmare inducing reasons. Even now, she couldn’t look at Hordak without seeing Prime discard his errant tool then threaten to destroy her world in a dulcet voice as if it were the most trite of things. It probably had been to that monster…

Hordak hadn’t been what she – an everyone else thought he was. What made it even more jarring, and unexpected, had been his eagerness to repent and atone following the war.

Glimmer had decreed that Prime’s little brothers were not at fault for what they had been made to do for their creator, all of them, Hordak included. She couldn’t in good conscience persecute any of them whilst knowing, intimately – unlike the other monarchs- where they came from and what had been done to them.

Hordak however, decided to be difficult, because of course he did.

He insisted that even had his actions been in the hopes of serving Prime, they had been his actions, his mistakes. He owned them, and he owed Etheria. He had decided- by himself - to rebuild the things he had a hand in destroying not out of a desperate bid for forgiveness but because it was what he had been convinced that it was the right, and the just thing to do.

It made it very awkward for her to interact with him… whenever she invited Entrapta to these events, he was always her plus one. Entrapta was a sore spot for Glimmer. She had decided that the Dryll princess would be the first one to be invited whenever Glimmer hosted any event. It was the least she owed her.

She had learned that Entrapta endangered herself to save her back when she had been abducted on Prime’s ship… a few weeks before that, Glimmer had argued with Adora and Bow to leave her on Beast Island for the time being. It was a shame that stung deeply. Entrapta had been a far better friend to her than she had been to Entrapta. To make matters worse, Entrapta seemed either oblivious or not to hold it against her. It made Glimmer’s guilt even worse. At times, she wished Entrapta HAD been angry, she wished the other princess would give her a piece of her mind, at least then, she’d be able to make it up to her.

Huh!

No wonder Hordak “punished” himself with reparations and reconstructions…She couldn't stop a heavy sigh from escaping her. It wasn't an invitation to talk but he seemed to take it as one since the noise startled him out of his contemplation and he slowly turned towards her.

“Good evening, your grace.” It was always a bit comical when one of Prime’s clones bowed to her, they would have to bend over comically low to match her height. Hordak didn’t. He merely bowed his head smoothly and lowered his ears to convey submission.

“Uh, hey.” How dignified of her. She wished she had half as much grace as her mother had. “Uuuh,-“ he looked at her with that blank face that had been conditioned into him. ‘Ugh, say something Glimmer, this doesn’t have to be this awkward. Make an effort, for Entrapta’s sake at least!’. “- lovely sunset, right?”

He blinked slowly then turned back to the vista. “Indeed.”

‘C’mon! Give me SOMETHING to work with here!’ She thought to herself. “What do you think of the party?” That had been a host thing to ask, it was appropriate and neutral right?

It wasn’t... The answer came in that calm, low, dignified and slightly husky voice of his, a voice that had cracked from screaming and had never recovered. His posture betrayed his unease. Hordak further stiffened at the question.

“It is,-“ he paused considering his words carefully “quite sumptuous, your grace.” He bowed again. It was clearly at least as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.

This wasn’t helping… ‘Good job Glimmer!’ If it hadn’t been weird and both of them had enjoyed the companionable silence before, now she had made things awkward.

While considering what to say next, he saved her the effort by saying. “Your guests are enjoying themselves.” Was that a compliment? Was he trying to compliment her? She knew from former interactions with him that he had a very stiff and formal way of talking, very unlike his progenitor. Words fit poorly in his mouth. It was so curious how, despite having the same voice and the same face, almost… they sounded worlds apart. He held himself differently too, Prime had filled every space he was in, he owned every room he walked into. Hordak on the other hand seemed perpetually on eggshells. Was that why he was here by himself?

“You are my guest too.” She said to him, trying to sound warm and welcoming but it came out a bit defensive.

The unasked question hung between them in the dying light of the day.

He saved her from asking it once more. “My presence… makes some of your other guests uneasy, your grace. I did not wish to impose.”

“Impose? Nonsense!” She waved it off with a chuckle. “You and Entrapta are welcome here, I’ve expressly invited the both of you myself. There is no way you could ‘impose’ in any way!” Then it hit her… “Did anyone tell either of you that you were imposing? If they did, tell me who it was and I’ll have a chat with them.”

He huffed out a chuckle then turned towards her once more. A small, tentative smile made its way on his face. “No such thing your grace, the initiative was all mine.” The shared gaze was broken as he looked at his feet then back into the distance. “ I wished to prevent it from becoming an issue. Many of your kinsmen are weary of me, and for good reason. My actions on your world did not endear me to most of your kind.” It seems that guilt had brought them both on this overlook.

“I should name this ‘the shitty overlook!’ Hah!” She laughed. “Because everyone comes on this balcony to feel shitty.” He looked at her, one browridge raised in inquiry. “You’re here because of the whole conquest thing and I’m here because I’ a terrible friend.”

Glimmer continued. “We both did regrettable things during the war.” She too looked on into the distance, the line of bleeding orange light got thinner and thinner as night overtook it, a thin line of fiery hues reflected off the surface of the turbulent lake. Silence hung between them for a few minutes.

“You did what you thought was necessary, your grace.” Despite the curt tone, it was a reassurance. It was uncanny for Hordak of all people to be the one trying to comfort her.

“We both did. It still doesn’t make it feel right.” Both of their closets had skeletons cramped in them.

“It may not but, at the time, you saw no other way to do your duty.” He sighed deeply. “Hindsight is indeed, not a charitable beast your majesty, but it is unfair.” He clicked his claws on the balustrade. The motion was somewhat distracting. ” You know things now that you couldn’t have possibly known back then. Within the constraints of the time and the data available, you did the best that you could, the best that could be expected. You were a formidable opponent.” As sound as his logic was, it did little to assuage the anger she aimed at herself.

“And I had my friends take the fall for me because I thought it was necessary.” She sighed and hugged herself. “I was wrong, even back then but I didn’t want to admit it, I thought the ends justify the means. They don’t. They never do.”

“It’s easy to overthink the choices made when one is aware that there were other options, other paths that could have been taken.” He sounded, small and sad, his own demons haunting him.” The reality of it is that, in the moment, you may not have been aware of other possibilities and time had not been on your side. You decided to move forward down the only path you saw before you. The alternative would have been admitting defeat. Had you done so, you wouldn’t be here to second guess yourself. It was, in general, the right thing to do even if you are left with the consequences of your perceived momentary oversights. You have the privilege now, to make up for your mistakes – a privilege you wouldn’t have had should you have not done the things you did. “

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She hadn’t known she needed it nor would she had ever asked for it and that’s exactly why the point had hit home. “She was right, you’re a good listener.”

He chuckled again, an animate chuckle that rippled through him as he shook his head and turned back to look at the lake. She made her way closer and took in the familiar view. Neither of them said anything after that.

They watched the stars appear on the night sky, reflecting off the surface of the lake, somewhat distorted. The ripples of the lake made their twinkling even brighter. The night was peaceful.

[melliflovs]

Beautiful Mess - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Angst, longing, kinda sad

Summary: Reader comes to terms with her feelings after being faced with her emotions once she sees Gojo again for their monthly battle, even if it gets interrupted.

A/N: I didn't check this for errors cause my computers about to die but I wanted to post this for you guys!

Requests open!

In truth he found you incredible, but would he ever admit it? No. Of course not.

It was moments like this, the stars shining down on you and the wind blowing through your hair that made Gojo pause. He wished things could be different.

You could've been teaching alongside him, or anything else from the life you chose. He frowned to himself. Were you really happy?

At least twenty curses surrounded you. The dark purple aura slowly beginning to cover you from his view as you laughed in the distance. He just wanted a moment more to watch you before the inevitable battle before the two of you.

You knew he was there, close enough to see but too far away to touch. For now, you'd continue on as you were, playfully petting a curse on its head. It resembled a dog and chose to stay by your side, granted it looked and smelled horrendous but you'd take what you could get. They milled about you, waiting for their commands. They were all grade 3 curses, childs play for people like Gojo - people like you. But they weren't supposed to be strong, they were just to garner attention.

After the purple fog fully enveloped you Gojo knew it was time. You stood high on the tallest skyscraper, the clouds within reach.

You always thought Gojo was incredible. Irresistible looks, unbeatable strength, and a massive ego. Time spent with him was cherished, even if it meant small tricks and claims to get his attention but he never failed to deliver.

You heard his footsteps approach slowly, with your back turned the curses began to howl. A small smile tugged on the edges of your lips but you held it back. Slowly you turned to face him.

"Come with me." He said, Gojo had his hands in his pocket with a blindfold covering his eyes. You wondered if you'd ever be able to see them again.

"Traded out the glasses, huh?" You teased, "Do the students find it more intimidating." Sparks lit up your eyes as power began to surge through you.

Gojo smirked and flexed his muscles at you "I was always intimidating, just thought the blindfold added more flare."

He wished they'd stop sending him, the elders always too quick to call upon him once they knew you were involved. They started questioning why the job was never 'finished' they wanted you dead. You were the villain in this story, the creator of curses and sorrow. But how could someone so beautiful be so destructive? It didn't make sense to him.

The first time you'd met Gojo you were both 16. He was a student at the time, sent to a school to take down a low-level curse. It was a teaching method of his Sensei's to send his students alone on smaller tasks - one he ultimately ended up using himself. Instead, he found you surrounded in a purple haze curled into a ball.

You were so small at the time, anxious and afraid with tears streaming down your face. Gojo could feel the power inside you, radiating from your fragile body. It brought him to his knees in front of you. It was the first time you'd ever seen his eyes, hair hanging out in front of his face. He reached out to you, mesmerized by you.

He'd never encountered power like his before, different from his yet so similar in strength. Gojo was so distracted by you that he ignored the scattered limbs of what used to be your fellow classmates.

When he looked at you he was amazed, every single time. But you'd grown now, no longer the scared little girl who didn't know who or what you were. But you knew now. Years of hating yourself for what you were born as, what you'd accidentally do to people. Eventually, you embraced it.

In the years that you'd been actively on Gojo's radar, no one had narrowed down what you were. They knew you were human, a child abandoned and forced into foster care. From what he could tell your emotions were so strong that the smallest offense could make the curses in the surrounding 10 miles stronger and multiply them. You were no longer a grade 3 curse. You were special grade, a girl with explosive feelings that were considered to be on the same level as Sukuna.

You still didn't compare to Gojo though.

"Come with me, (y/n)" He repeated, his eyes desperate under the blindfold. He wondered if she could tell how much he wished she would listen to him.

She shook her head lightly, lowering her head to the ground. "You know I can't do that Satoru."

He nodded in response, he knew she was right. They'd execute her if she followed him back to the school. In a way (y/n) reminded him as Yuji, the elders were cowards whatever they couldn't understand they eliminated. Eventually, they'd meet the same unfortunate fate. Gojo wouldn't be able to protect either of them.

Gojo was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of a single snap. Looking up he watched as all the curses surrounding her dive off the skyscraper and into the city set loose to wreak havoc. The dog-shaped curse stayed, wagging its crooked tailback and forth.

"Good," He teased, "Was starting to get a bit crowded up here."

The purple haze had almost completely disappeared from the rooftop once the curses left. You took a deep breath, "I'm not ready yet, Gojo. Ten minutes."

He jokingly checked his bare wrist as if looking at a watch "Fine" He pouted "But I'm counting."

You gave him a weak smile, walking over to the edge of the roof and sitting down, letting your legs hang over the edge. You'd be lying if you said looking down didn't make you feel sick, you were at least 100 stories above ground. But the lights were so pretty, the glow of all of them lit up the night, reflecting in your eyes. You felt his presence approach you, standing behind you as you sat.

"Why does it have to be this way?" You whispered, it was so quiet he might not have been able to hear you. It would've probably been for the best if he hadn't.

Hesitantly he placed his hand on your head, giving your hair a soft pat. He made you feel so little, so small in comparison. Just like the day you met. "Because life is unfair to powerful people."

You hummed at his response, "I wish things were different." You tilted your head up, looking at him through your lashes, hair falling in your face. "I wish we weren't such a mess."

"At least we're a beautiful mess." He said grinning down at you.

"I miss your eyes Gojo, why cover them like that all the time?" You asked, still staring at the dark blindfold. You could only imagine what shade of blue hid behind it.

"Decided not everyone should have the privilege to see these sparklers." The smile on his face grew as he said this, quirking his head to the side.

"Can I see them?" The more time you spent in his presence the calmer you felt. Gradually you felt the weight of your powers lift off your shoulder. A calm smile never had any trouble settling on your face whenever you were around him. It was hard to admit, even to yourself, but looking at his shining smile for the first time in months made you realize you'd missed him. "Please Gojo."

His grin faded into a soft smile. Nodding his head, Gojo reached up and began to untie the knot holding the blindfold.

"I think it's been ten minutes, Satoru. What do you think?" The voice made the two of you jump, Gojo's hands dropping away from the halfway untied covering. "Maybe you just got distracted with" He waved his hand around distastefully "This."

"Leave. Now." Gojo whispered, just low enough that the new man wouldn't be able to hear him. He seemed afraid, not of the man but of what would happen if any of his higher-ups found out about the two of you - whatever you were, even if you didn't know yourselves.

He stalked over the man, who was dressed impeccably in a white button-down. He held a wooden paddle tightly in his hand and pushed up his glasses as Gojo walked up to him.

"Look, Nanami, it's not what you think." He said holding up his hands defensively. Realistically he didn't know if his colleague would even believe any lie he could up of in time. Gojo tried to straighten himself out. Putting on his signature smirk, "You know how I get around the ladies. They just can't help themselves."

Nanami let out a sigh, looking at his friend with pity. "The way she looks at you... it's like she'd be willing to take a bullet for you." It wasn't normal the way you looked at Gojo. Like he was the sun and you were a flower stuck in the shade. "And I'm sure under that ridiculous blindfold you were looking at her like that too."

Gojo stayed quiet, the fake smirk dropping from his face. The silence hovered for a moment, making his chest fill with dread as Nanami thought it over in his head.

Suddenly he turned, beginning to walk towards the exit. "Come on, let's go."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Gojo asked as he followed his coworker. He wrung his hands nervously together.

"No."

He let out a sigh of relief. A small smile began to tug at his lips, he was grateful to the blonde, not many people he knew would risk helping him like this. Subtly he looked over his shoulder.

Thankfully you were already gone, thankfully you were safe. At least for the time being. As he stepped towards the stairwell to make his way down the skyscraper, Gojo realized one thing:

You never got to see his eyes.

[lunarliza]

Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 4: Kook Conventions

JJ x Kook!reader

series masterlist | prev. chapter| chapter one

my masterlist

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

note: slight mention of panic attack

If there was anything you learned about JJ that Friday, it was that he was the absolute worse at sticking to the plan.

For one, he spent so much time looking for the tennis courts, instead of following your clearly written out instructions, that he ended up being late altogether to pick you up. What was supposed to be a grand gesture turned into you sitting on the front steps, while the sun was near done setting, waiting for stupid JJ while everyone else had already left.

“What the hell took you so long?!” you scolded, slamming the truck door shut in annoyance once he finally showed up.

“This place is confusing as hell! I kept having to make loops. It is called Figure Eight for a reason,” he tried to justify, pulling out of the lot.

“JJ I texted you specific instructions on how to get here!” you groused, rubbing your temple, “Anyways, it’s fine, whatever. Let’s just hurry home so I can get ready. My house is just a little bit up that way.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” JJ mentioned sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road, “I kinda have to help Pope and Poppa Heyward with something right now. It will only take an hour tops! I’ll just meet you at the party after I’m done.”

You groaned loudly, face-palming yourself. “JJ what the hell! I told you specifically to cancel your plans tonight. It was supposed to be our debut!”

“I did! I just,” he scratched the back of his neck, “kinda broke one of their carts this afternoon, so I have to help them fix it for tomorrow. I think they’re catering your little brunch thingy.”

“How did you even break the cart to begin with?!”

He hid his face from your dagger-eyes and admitted in a low voice, “I, uh, tried to surf on it down a hill when they weren’t looking.”

You had to fight the urge to smack him upside the head, but you didn’t want to risk him veering off the road. Lucky bastard.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “Just make sure you’re on time to the party.” You then eyed his outfit up and down. Even in the little sunlight that emitted from outside, you could tell it was all dirty from his day activities. “And please change into something a little nicer,” you added, “These Kooks would run you to the ground with that on.”

JJ dropped you off at your house and sped away as you unlocked the door into a near empty house. Looks like it would just be you and Alfred for dinner.

Your parents were headed off to the mainland for some business convention. Thankfully, your presence was not needed which saved you an entire day of pretending to be a perfect obedient daughter. It was an exhausting act.

Most teens your age would kill for a night alone, but after countless nights sleeping isolated in a big empty house, it got old and depressing. Most of the time, you’d sleep over at Sarah’s for some kind of company. You were always welcomed at the Camerons’.

Greeting Alfred your usual hello at the foyer, you darted upstairs to wash off and get ready with the little time you had left. The aroma of filet mignon and freshly seasoned veggies filled the house air.

“Oh and Alfred,” you called out over the intricate metal banister, “It’ll just be me eating tonight, so just set the table for one please.”

“Miss Y/n, your friend is not coming?” he asked with hints of concern. You just shook your head with a sad smile. “No, he had to run last minute.”

Alfred gave you a curt nod, making way back into the kitchen while you dashed into the bathroom.

—————————————————

Instead of throwing JJ straight into the shark’s tank (even though, given his already poor track record, you strongly contemplated throwing him to literal sharks), you decided it was best to ease him into the whole boyfriend role.

You figured he’d be more in touch with his aura if you invited him to a Kook party first— which was exactly where you were, furiously texting him where on earth he was.

It was already ten o’clock. The party started hours ago, and he was nowhere to be found. An hour with Pope your ass!

Flopping onto the giant living room couch in Billy Irvine’s mansion, you frowned amongst the throng of drunk privileged kids. Around you, the Glossy Posse was gossiping with other Kooks about some of the summer newcomers while sleazy guys from out of town tried to grab their attention. It never worked.

“So y/n,” Chloe asked next to you on the couch, “I have some great news! It’s no secret that you need a date to the all the fundraiser events, and I might just have one for you! My cousin, Gerald, is coming into town next week, so I can totally set you guys up!”

She proceeded to show you pictures on her phone of a lanky tall guy with discolored hair and a creepy smile. You resorted to taking a gulp of your drink to hide your horrified expression. “Thanks, but, uh, no thanks. I actually have a date already,” you informed, typing away heatedly at your phone for JJ to arrive that instant or so help you.

“Ooh, who is it?” Ivy nosily chimed in at the mention of you finally having a date. From the couch over, you also saw Anne-Marie and Warren lean their heads closer to get the scoop.

Jeez, were people really that interested in your love life?

“It’s-”

Before you could reveal the name, a loud ‘ding’ went off from your phone followed by a text from JJ to alert you that he was out front. “Oh! He’s actually here right now,” you announced, hopping up from your seat to collect your very problematic date.

“You’re late, again!” you scolded to the blond standing all gloomy at the front of the stone curved driveway. He changed into a nicer grey long-sleeve with khaki shorts and his signature red snapback, much to your relief. It didn’t quite match with your intricate white romper, but it would do for the time being.

“The guard wouldn’t let me in the gate! I ended up having to sneak through one of the fences,” JJ explained. You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous excuse. “Then why didn’t you just call me to let you in?” you pointed out.

“It was more fun this way,” he peskily grinned, earning himself a smack on the arm. The guy was impossible. “Ow!” he whined, rubbing the spot. Ignoring his complaints, you seized his hand and led him inside. It was about time!

The foyer flashed with various-colored LED lights while thundering rap music echoed from basically every corner of the house. All around, eyes gawked at you stepping through the Victorian-style entryway with a Pogue of all people. It was like walking into a cave of bats.

“Anyways,” you began, disregarding all the probing eyes, “This is Billy Irvine’s place. It’s the nicest house on the Eight. His parents are out of town right now, so we’re celebrating the Glossy Posse’s birthdays.”

It alway was a coincidence to you how all three of them had birthdays on back-to-back days. Witchcraft, honestly.

“Those bitches?” JJ grimaced at the mention of his sworn female enemies, “Ew why? They hate the Pogues.”

“Just shut up and suck it up. Here,” you grabbed a glass from the champagne tower in the middle of the spacious room, “Have a drink to get your mind off it.”

“Champagne? What the hell is this, England?” he yelped, taking a swig. Rolling your eyes, you hoped the alcohol would alleviate his irritability for the night. Fortunately, the blaring music was enough to drown out his constant bickering.

“Now put your arm around me! It’s time to make our rounds,” you demanded. He obliged and you turned on your best lovestruck game-face, giving him the grand tour of the mansion.

Billy’s mom was also one of the important people of the Island Club, so you had been going over there ever since you were nine being that your moms were friends. Still, you were always amazed by the extravagance of their house. You could tell JJ was also in shock of it all too.

It looked like a castle with two grand marble staircases circling the front with a tall vintage Tiffany chandelier hanging over everything. The floors were the shiniest white marble even with hundreds of teenagers recklessly dancing and slipping all over it.

“Damn, so this is how the other side lives,” JJ commented, marveling at how the LED lights reflected off the diamonds on the chandelier.

He slid his hand down to your waist as you stood closer to his side, taking a whiff of his teakwood cologne. Deep down, it was nice to have someone to attend parties with you, even if it was fake and with JJ.

You took him up the right staircase where plastered kids— some you recognized from school, some just in town for the summer— stumbled up and down the stairs or sloppily made out while pinned to the side walls. Realistically, it didn’t seem that off-brand to JJ’s party scene.

“We’re only staying an hour right?” JJ reminded in your ear as you approached the open bar upstairs. Yes, the Irvine’s had a literal bar in their second level.

“Yes, grumpy!”  

“Do you know if Sarah and John B are coming?” JJ continued to question. You settled on top of a retro bar stool as he leaned against the Irvine’s prized rustic bar.

“No,” you answered, “Sarah doesn’t come to these because Topper’s here. And she hates Kooks.”

“She’s the smarter one of you two!” JJ shouted among the loud music. You shook your head and whacked him again, but lightly this time. Seemed that would be you guy’s thing— hitting.

Even in their inebriated states, Kooks were still staring at you like you had grown a third arm. Which, honestly, was what being with JJ felt like half the time. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the Glossy Posse and Warren making their way to you with either wide or curious eyes.

Oh boy.

“Y/n!” they exclaimed, shoving through the crowd. You matched their seemingly gleeful expressions, though you knew deep down they were judging you hard.

“You must be y/n’s date,” Ivy stated without much of a formal introduction.

“Aren’t you that Pogue from the Boneyard that always tries to hit on us?” Chloe brought up once she got a better look at JJ’s face. You snorted, but no one heard you.

You were slightly worried JJ would take their snarky comments the wrong way and lash back, but his cocky grin still laid proudly on his face as he held his hand out to your girl friends. “Name’s JJ. And yeah, I’m y/n’s new man.”

New man. Well, that was certainly a title. All of the Glossy Posse’s threaded eyebrows shot up at the word.

“Y/n,” Anne-Marie said in amazement, “You didn’t tell us you were dating again.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to keep it kinda lowkey,” you lied, signaling JJ to put his arm around you again.

Expecting your friends to stick up their nose at him or give you guys condemnatory looks, you were surprised to find they were more stunned than snobby. Intrigued, you caught them eyeing JJ up and down as if he possessed some kind of magical charm.

From behind the group, you saw Warren trying to stick his hand out at JJ to introduce himself as the girls did kinda take center stage earlier, shielding him out. “Don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Warren, Warren Van Doren.”

JJ had to hold back a laugh at the sound of his rhyming name. So immature.

“Hey man, I’m JJ. Nice to meet you,” he greeted, shaking his hand, “Wait a sec, aren’t you that quarterback that got in that fight at regionals last year?”

Warren smiled sheepishly and looked away. “Yeah, that was me.”

You remembered that fight. The video of it actually went viral for like a week. Warren was a very nice guy, but pissed of, he was an animal. He pummeled the shit out of some of other players during that game. The topic of fighting seemed to bond the two boys as they unknowingly drifted away in their own conversation. Thank God, you were glad that at least one of the boys there would be friendly towards JJ.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Chloe announced, gesturing towards the stairway. All four of your heads turned to see Max and Anya parade up to the top step linked to one another.

That was the cue.

Furtively, you nudged at JJ’s side, interrupting his football conversation. You gave him an alerting look that said ‘look like you’re in love with me ASAP’ and he quickly enveloped his arm around you to pull you close.

Given the fact that you and JJ hardly knew each other, much less touched, it was a very ungraceful and awkward gesture. Even Warren shot you both a weird look. Either way, you figured it would be perfected after going at it a few times.

Just as the Hollywood couple sauntered in to the packed bar area, JJ dipped his face closer to yours. It was a nice touch to the act. He started whispering some stupid joke in your ear that you could hardly make out among the music and chatter, but you went along with it anyway, playfully slapping at his chest. He even placed his snapback on your head backwards. You almost yelled at him for ruining your hair, but for the sake of the show you were putting on, you pretended it was the cutest thing.

You tried not to look at Max as he passed, as you didn’t want to make things so obvious. But in the split second you did glance his way, his mouth flew agape. In that moment, you knew you had him right in the palm of your hand from twenty feet away. The evil laugh cackled inside your head while you raked your hands through JJ’s hair. It was surprisingly soft.

For the next few minutes, you could feel Max’s stare bore into you back as you leaned closer to JJ, kissing up his jawline and cheek. 

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you felt like this about me,” JJ teased.

“Shut up. I’m giving them a show,” you hissed with an infatuated smile to mask your threats.

“They’re gone now,” JJ noted lowly in your ear. You both detached like repelling magnets.

Fortunately, the posse and Warren dispersed among the crowd while you and JJ acted out your little PDA scene— it was probably from discomfort, if you were being honest. You did make sure not to hold anything back while you were draped all over JJ.

“Is that it?” JJ droned, back to his normal whiny self, “Am I done? Can we leave?”

Clicking your tongue, you shook your head, but with a grin this time. “Yes, you idiot, we can leave now.”

“Finally!”

JJ’s hand crept to your lower back as you both weaved through the mass of people to the exit. Before you could make it halfway down the staircase, however, you heard a rumbling behind you that stopped both your tracks. Warren’s six-four gigantic self was rummaging down the stairs, leaving booms in his wake.

“JJ! JJ!” he called out, grabbing hold of your fake boyfriend’s arm, “JJ dude, you gotta check out this new game system Billy has upstairs in the game room. You can play live Madden!”

“What?!” JJ’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas as Warren tugged you both back up the stairs with his giant football-player muscles.

“Dude it’s fucking sick! You gotta try it out,” Warren kept insisting. You knew JJ wouldn’t be able to resist. His eyes were practically glowing with excitement when he turned back to you as if to ask for some kind of approval.

“Okay, I’m just going to stay for one game,” he swore but you were a hundred-and-ten percent sure he’d be hooked and you could stay for much longer.

“Knock yourself out, Maybank,” you responded with a knowing smile, shooing him off to some depth of the Irvine’s enormous home. When he disappeared, you took the liberty to go search for your friends and finally enjoy the party for yourself.

As you predicted, one game turned into thirty real quick. It was well past midnight and JJ was still buried away somewhere doing who knows what. You didn’t mind. Warren was very responsible and you trusted him to take care of your date.

Plus, it gave you enough time to take rounds of various colored jello shots with Billy, dance on Mrs. Irvine’s countertops with the birthday girls, and devour the four-tiered tiramisu cake with fake-puking Barbie doll toppers that you helped pick out at the bakery.

When it got around one thirty, you grew a little concerned about JJ’s whereabouts so you sent him a quick text just to make sure he was okay and not shoving his head down a toilet. Your phone chimed back instantly—

Im jus fine y/n!!! One mor game! I almos beat War Ins Ass! Fuckin kwarter back!

Oh yeah, he was definitely gone. You texted your family’s driver to come by in about thirty minutes to make sure he’d get home safely. Then, you proceeded to dig in to your third slice of cake. Unlike the rest of your friends, you embraced the joy that was carbs— especially when you were drunk and there was chocolate involved.

JJ came downstairs a few minutes later and found where you were sitting on the couch surrounded by your circle of friends. Even amid the dark yet colorful beaming lights, his hair was still its usual sweaty mess with eyes a tad droopy, indicating just how drunk he was.

“Y/n! There’s my baby!”

He walked up and collapsed right onto your lap, tossing a dangly arm around you. You kept his snapback on for the entire night, assuming your hair was probably a bird’s nest underneath it. Everyone around seemed amused at the sight, and a few girls from school even began asking how you two started dating.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Well, that was until your thigh circulation began ceasing due to JJ’s bony ass on it. You immediately demanded that you switch places with him, and he sloppily obliged. The throng around you giggled, intrigued by the new lovey-dovey couple. Secretly, you ate up the attention and knew JJ did too.

He was in the middle of telling everyone a dumb Boneyard party story when Max and Anya entered the living room premises. They looked like they were fixing to leave. Your date felt you tense a little in his lap and caught on to your sudden judder.

Boldly, JJ made direct eye contact with Max and threw him one of those ‘what’s up’ nods. Then, out of nowhere, in his completely trashed state, JJ cupped both of your cheeks and planted a very brazen kiss on your lips for everyone to see. Shutting your eyes, you heard a few whistles from the crowd around you, especially when he, very obviously, added his tongue to the mix.

JJ was a good kisser, you had to admit. It quite literally, took your breath away when he pulled back. Biting your lip, you mimicked his shit-eating grin while he pressed his perspiration-filled forehead on yours. It was a huge acne-hazard just waiting to happen. But, like the snapback, you didn’t care. It was the most thrilling thing you had done in months.

“Don’t look now, but Vega and his girl have their jaws dropped to the floor behind you,” he muttered in your ear. You giggled and held onto him closer, leaning your head on his chest.

It was probably be best fifteen hundred bucks you had ever spent.

—————————————————

The next morning was your mom’s weekly Saturday brunch. By default, you showed up an hour early to help greet the guests, frequently checking your watch and phone to see when JJ would arrive.

You had a tennis tournament earlier that morning, however, you didn’t even bother making your fake boyfriend go. After the events of last night, you knew he’d be too hungover in the morning and wouldn’t wake up in time for it. He was getting to be very predictable.

At t-minus five minutes until the brunch started, everyone had already made their way into the ballroom. That left just you waiting in the lobby area for your date. The look on your face was just about ready to kill JJ whenever he walked through the door. You also didn’t see Sarah and John B arrive either, so you assumed they would be a no-show yet again.

About a minute past noon, the blond sauntered past the doors wearing a black suit that looked two sizes to big for him with hideous shoulder pads. You presumed it was his dad’s old one. He also had on jet black sunglasses to mask the grogginess from the party, but it was pretty evident he looked and felt like shit.

“You’re late again!” you hissed through gritted teeth, snatching his hand like he was an uncontrollable child. Maybe you should invest in a leash and collar for him since he could never get his attendance right.

“What do you mean? You said noon,” he yawned, unfazed at your irritation.

“The brunch starts at noon!” you jeered, “That means you have to show up early!”

“Well you failed to mention those rules,” he tried to bicker back, but you flashed him one of your bitch-looks before he could go any further. That had him shriveling at the sight.

“Whatever, just hurry up and let’s get seated,” you ordered, leading him through the majestic looking double doors, “And take off those sunglasses!”

Much to your dismay, the doors made a very loud creaking noise when they opened. Just about everyone did a double-take to see you arrive late and with a woozy-looking boy shoving sunglasses in his suit pocket.

Eyes were glued on you while judgmental whispers filled the already tense air. There was a small churn in your stomach as you weaved through the round tables. Something was also gnawing at your brain, telling you that it was a terrible, terrible idea. You attempted to brush it aside, though, as you and JJ took your seats.

For some odd reason, the Glossy Posse didn’t show the same enthusiasm towards JJ like the did at the party. They were back to their pretentious ways— you figured it was probably just their hangover attitude.

On the other hand, Warren happily greeted JJ when he sat down, exchanging one of those typical ‘bro’ handshakes. They started chatting on about the previous night while you tried to make small talk with the girls. Unfortunately, they were still being short with you and were, very obviously, throwing looks at JJ, along with their dates.

Glancing to your parents’ table, they didn’t look like they cared too much about your situation, having just flown in from their trip. They were too engrossed in entertaining their friends to really pay you any mind. Sometimes you were grateful that they were oblivious to some things. When you look over at the Vegas, however, Mr. and Mrs. Vega both sent you a disapproving look. The other families followed.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head at that point. Was it a mistake bringing JJ to this event?

The servers came out and made their rounds at the tables, setting bowls of water in front of everyone.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” JJ piped, taking his dessert spoon to sip water from the finger bowl.

“JJ,” you yelled-whispered as guests continued to stare.

“What?” he chided back with an attitude, completely unaware of his surroundings.

“The water is for your fingers.”

His face shot up from the bowl and scanned the room at people dipping their fingers into their respective bowls. “Oh shit,” he sputtered as your entire table tried to hide their snorts.

When the food finally came out, it didn’t really get any better. Baked chicken was on the menu and, well, JJ was the only one in the room who didn’t use a fork and knife. Everyone stared at him incredulously as he used his hands to gobble up his plate. Though, the boy didn’t seem to notice any of the baffled eyes.

Attempting to shield your red face, you continued to take tiny bites from your food, hoping the next hour would go by fast.

You hoped too soon.

As soon as JJ was done eating, he let out a loud belt to where the tables around you could hear. Warren high-fived him. At least someone got a kick out of it. You, along with the rest of the guests, had nothing but revolt on your faces.

Once the plates were cleared, the servers brought out creme brûlée for dessert. You were grateful it was something semi-clean to eat. JJ seemed to get a knack out of all the food. He even leaned over to you with his mouth full and muttered, “This food is fantastic! My compliments to the chef.”

You half-smiled back in embarrassment and took a spoon-full of your dessert. Thankfully, your mom waltzed over when you were half-way through to ask for your help carrying in the posters and stands from the lobby that displayed all the charity and donation information.

Immediately, you rose and scattered out, away from all the the dense room.

At the front, you began picking up the easel stands to bring inside until you spotted the jet-black locks of the last person you wanted to run into that afternoon. You almost dropped the large items in your hands when he came up to you.

“So, I see you brought Maybank here. Looks like he’s really enjoying himself in there,” Max commented dryly beside you. Mrs. Vega must have asked him for a hand as well.

You winced at the oozing criticism in his voice. It was the first time you had spoken to him one-on-one since the breakup.

”Yeah, we’re, uh, kind of together now,” you mentioned, lugging a display. He grabbed the two remaining and rushed to keep up with you, following you back in.

Out of nowhere, he let out disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, y/n, you and Maybank?”

Taken aback by his brashness, you stopped right before the ballroom doors, frowning. “Yeah,” you shot back sternly, “Why not? I get along with him fine.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. The guy’s a total tool. I’ve told you that from the beginning. Trust me, I know.”

“Know what? What’s good for me?” you pressed, growing more and more exasperated at the sound of his deep and raspy voice.

It was sexy, no doubt, but just the things that were coming out of his mouth made you want to slap him silly. How dare he prance up to you in his gorgeous light blue Armani suit and tell you what’s good for you!

“I just know who you are, y/n,” he went on calmly, with not an ounce of anger present in his tone, “And JJ’s just not a good guy for you.”

You were seeping with outrage at that point. Hiking in a breath, you spoke with the speckles of tranquility you had left in you. “Well I appreciate your concern, though I hardly understand why you have any for me. But we broke up, Max. You completely lost the right to tell me any of that.”

With that, you furiously stomped into the brunch and set the displays at the front for your mom. Max looked dumbstruck as he trailed behind. But you didn’t care.

“Everything okay? Did something happen with Vega?” JJ asked when you got back to your seat. You remained silent. It was the only way to keep yourself from screaming.

It was all too much— the piercing stares, the messy eating, Max.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you informed to JJ as he listened to another one of Warren’s football stories, “And then we’re leaving.”

Before he could respond, you were already racing to the bathroom as fast as your Jimmy Choo wedges could take you.

You needed air. And fast.

Bursting through the bathroom door, you heaved yourself into the biggest stall and flopped down on the toilet seat, taking in deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much. The room was still twirling like you were on the Graviton at a carnival. Too nauseous from it all, you didn’t even care that you were ruining your new white Valentino dress.

You just wanted to hurl inside the antique-decorated bathroom but couldn’t. It was miserable. But at least the bathroom was empty.

All the seeming success of last night crumbled away with every disapproving look or whisper of the guests. And then Max— that fucking asshole. Your head was thumping endlessly as you felt the stress knots crawl up your spine.

What were you thinking? Maybe you were in over your head. No one was believing it. Not for a second.

Even JJ was terrible at playing along. You should’ve known it was just wishful thinking. You knew you had to throw in the towel and told yourself you would call it off once you found some way to stop the hot tears that were streaming down your made-up cheeks.

As you felt your breathing start to normalize, you slowly lifted from the toilet seat and smoothened out your dress. When the bathroom door slammed open against the wall, you immediately fell back down, wanting to avoid any form of human interaction for the rest of your life.

Titters and snickers echoed the air as two girls stumbled in, mid-conversation. They didn’t seem to notice you in the stall at all. Thank God.

“Would you believe y/n? Bringing that dirty Pogue here? She’s gone insane!” A nasally voice spoke by the sinks.

You scrunched your nose, trying to catch a glimpse of their shoes from the opening underneath the stall. You nearly puked. Nameless brand heels? Unacceptable.

“I know! He’s so disgusting and that suit is just repulsive! Does she not have an ounce of embarrassment?” the other one added.

You didn’t recognize their voices, but assumed they probably went to your school by the way they knew you and JJ. A part of you wanted to charge out of the stall and drag their pitiful selves to the ground. But seeing as you were just recovering from a near panic attack, you didn’t have the energy. And they didn’t deserve your breath.

Nevertheless, they still went on. 

“Ever since Vega dumped her for California girl, she’s completely gone off the rails. First the hair change and now she’s dating a Pogue like Sarah Cameron is. It’s so pathetic!”

“Seriously, train wreck of the year if you ask me.”

Train wreck? Pathetic? You’ll show them what pathetic is! Especially with those god-awful shoes. Do they have an ounce of embarrassment showing up here with that kind of atrocity?

You were seconds away from emerging from your ashes to put them in their place. But, lucky for them, they escaped before you could come out of confinement.

Huffing, you stormed out of the stall and towards the mirrors to fix yourself. God forbid you’d ever let anyone see you with smeared mascara!

Dabbing a wet cloth on your cheeks to soothe out the redness, you heard the creak of the door opening behind you and immediately tossed it into a bin. You pretended to fix your hair. Fortunately, the redness faded to a soft pink to look like blush.

Anya strolled in the bathroom behind you. Ugh, the cherry on top of the cake.

You faked a tight smile at her. She threw a cheery one at you, walking up the sink next to yours to toss up her bouncy, voluminous hair. “So, I thought you said that guy out there wasn’t you boyfriend,” she pointed out, not taking her eyes off her own reflection.

“Oh, psh, well you know,” you sputtered, not expecting the sudden inquisition, “One thing led to another that night at the Boneyard and it just kinda… happened.”

It was the first real conversation you had with her, and you wanted to hold your breath at the awkwardness. Anya nodded at your answer, puckering her lips slyly. “I just think it’s cute that you’re trying to make Max jealous.”

You almost did a double take. It was so subtle and smooth, her comment almost flew right over your head. “Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to the blonde-haired home-wrecker.

She didn’t even flinch a muscle at your snub expression, just continued to ogle at herself. It was menacing. Evil really did take form in Anya Carmichael.

“Oh, did I need to spell it out for you?” she blinked, “Y/n, you’ve been out of the picture. If you think showing up with that god-awful guy in his dad’s raggedy suit is gonna change Max’s mind about you, I assure you it won’t work.”

She crinkled her eyes in a hateful smile.

What was with people and their audacity that afternoon? Whatever was in their water, you were not about to have any of it. No one spoke to you like that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said blandly, wanting to get under her skin.  

“Yes you do,” she snarled back, placing both hands on the sink in a threatening manner, “Look. Max and I are together now. You need to get that in your tiny pea-brain head. Do not play dumb with me. I see you looking over at him every five minutes. Get. Over. It.”

“Like I said,” you responded back in a fake-innocent tone just to push her buttons some more, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Anya. I think all the hairspray is really getting to your head.”

Two can play that game.

She narrowed her almond eyes at you and straightened up proudly. Even though she was way taller than you in her six-inch heels, you still stood your ground, blinking up at her tauntingly. At least your swanky parents taught you that much.

She scoffed. “Give it up, seriously. Using that guy to try to get back at your ex is just pathetic. Max was right about you. You’re just a shallow virgin with a handbag.”

With that, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and strutted out the door. Your blood was boiling, having half a mind to go out there and rip the bottled-blonde right off her head. You should’ve known it was all an act!

Fuming, you treaded back to the brunch table, your face doing a complete one-eighty once you stepped through the doors. A lady never showed her seething anger underneath.

JJ spotted you and promptly stood up, snatching your purse, and getting ready to leave.

“Sit,” you demanded, pushing him down by the shoulder so his ass plopped back firmly on the chair. The look of utter shock flashed on his face, but he just took it.

“I’m feeling better now. We’re staying,” you informed as if you were a commander at war. You glanced over at the Vegas’ table where Anya hung her arm proudly on Max’s bicep as he made some joke to his table. She threw over a glare at you. No one but you noticed.

You draped an arm on one of JJ’s ridiculously large shoulder pads, nuzzling your nose to his neck. He was still as confused as ever though, but still went along with it, digging his fork into your half-eaten dessert which he later finished.

If Anya wanted a war, you’ll give her one. May the best bitch win.

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

note: YES SHE WENT THERE! you kno i had to stir in anya- y/n drama!!! 

pls message me to be tagged! 

next chapter

tags: @2kayla64​​ @jewel25​​ @rudyypankow​​ @rafecameron​​ @ultranikilove​​ @wicked-laugh​​​ @outerbankslut​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​ @tovvaf @obxlife​​ @ilovejjmaybank​​ @celestialmaybank @erraaxh​​ @poguecollins​​ @jolomez​​ @x-lulu​​ @danicarosaline​​ @teamnick​​ @outerbankslut​​​ @sweetlysilent​​​ @5am-cigarette @n1ghtsh4d3-67 ​​@duskangxl @hollandary​​ @rudths​​ @meaganjm​​ @bluesiderudy​​ @http-cherries​​ @allycat449-blog​​ @pink-meringues @mendesmaybank @lunaposey @natsiboo​ @primroswx​ @wtfkie​ @heyitsmeimdead @ilymarkchan​ @drewwbabyy-blog @kookkyra​ @mayybankz​ @ifilwtmfc​ @annedub

[forever-lynx]

as long as he had eiji

pairing: asheiji

word count: 1754

angst with mild hurt/comfort

A/N: shoutout to the big motivator @emi-joanna 😌this one’s for you bestie

this was also meant for mother’s day yesterday but i had an essay to finish so i couldn’t complete it on time... well, it’s here now! i hope you enjoy

–––––––

The smell of pancakes flew through the air. Eiji wanted to make something simple this morning. He was exhausted from work; he was called in for extra hours in the past week to cover for his sick co-worker. Eiji was smiling to himself as he made the pancakes. Today was Mother’s Day and it reminded him of how much he missed his mom. He’d have to call his mom after breakfast.

Eiji inhaled the smell of his pancakes. He was an excellent cook, he knew; he had to cook for his younger sister back when he lived in Izumo because his mom would often be at the hospital beside his dad. Eiji grew melancholic at the thought of his dad. He missed his family more than anything, though he did not regret living in New York. He never would. It gave him the opportunity to meet his soulmate, the man he valued above all else. Speaking of which, he turned his head toward the couch his lover was asleep on. Ash was awake until late hours of the night in order to complete his business report. Ash was working incredibly hard in his new job. He truly valued it, and Eiji was forever proud of him for his hard work.

The two had not yet moved from New York. Ash had unfinished business to take care of with his gang which caused them to postpone their travels. It was unfortunate – Ash was really looking forward to seeing the place Eiji was born in, and above all he was looking forward to finally escaping the suffocating atmosphere of New York – but they had their aspirations, and it would not escape their grasp so easily. 

Eiji piled up the last bit of the pancakes on top of each other and placed them in the middle of the table. He walked over to Ash to wake him up. Ash’s nightmares still continued, unfortunately; though it was to be expected, two months was not enough time to heal from an incredibly traumatic event. And in Ash’s case, he was still dealing with the devils of his past. It pained Eiji; he wanted to be the barrier that protected Ash from all the hurt in the universe. Though as unrealistic as that may be, he was happy to be beside Ash, from now to forever. 

Eiji knelt beside Ash and kissed his cheek. 

“Aslan,” he murmured. “Breakfast is ready.” 

Ash grumbled, turning positions.

Eiji giggled, “Wake up you sleepyhead.”

“Fuck no.” Ash groaned.

“Aslan. You have five seconds to wake up or else I am flipping this couch.”

“I’d like to see your twink ass try.” 

“You are impossible,” Eiji said, grabbing a pillow from the other couch and hitting Ash with it.

“What the fuck– Eiji!”

“I spent ten minutes making pancakes, you are not going to let them grow cold and have all my hard work go to waste. Stupid American.” Eiji hit him with a pillow again.

Ash grabbed his pillow and threw it at Eiji. Luckily, the Japanese boy was able to ditch it. Eiji laughed and stuck his tongue out.

“Too slow.”

“Slow?! Oh, you’ll pay for this,” Ash threatened, lunging at Eiji and tickling him. Eiji erupted in a fit of laughter. The pillow fell from his hand as Ash continued to attack him with tickles. 

“Fine! Ah- you win!” Ash smiled in triumph. He got up and made his way to the table.

“Pancakes. Wonderful. Yours are to die for.”

“I am not taking compliments from a man who almost killed me with tickles.” Eiji said, sitting down. “Death by tickles, huh? Never tried that method before. Sounds lame.”

Eiji rolled his eyes. The lovers dived in, gulfing down their breakfast. They talked about their work and their plans for Izumo. Eiji was beyond ecstatic to have Ash see his home city. He wanted to introduce him to his neighbours and his friends. He couldn’t wait to take Ash to his old school grounds and the park where he learned how to ride a bike. He wanted Ash to see every little detail of Izumo and he hoped more than anything that his boyfriend would finally find peace. 

Once breakfast was over and Eiji had cleaned the table, he announced that he’d be calling his mom.

“It is Mother’s Day. It will only take a minute.” Eiji said. Though that wasn’t entirely the truth. His mother tended to stretch one minute long phone calls to an hour. “Take as much time as you need,” Ash assured him. Eiji smiled and went in their room for the phone call. He did not want to bother Ash when he had mountains of work to do.

Ash settled on his desk chair and stared at his laptop screen. Mother’s Day, he thought, how odd to dedicate an entire day for a parent. Who even came up with this shit?

Ash sighed and shook his head. It wasn’t worth questioning something as minor as this. He tried to focus on his work; he stared at the numbers before him. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to make out what they meant. He knew the formulas – he knew this job like the back of his hand – but his brain refused to cooperate. Weird, he thought.

Ash got up from his chair and made himself coffee. Perhaps he was too tired from the night before to even focus on his work. Of course, that was it. He simply needed to wake up and consume as much coffee and Monster Energy drinks as he could.

Ash sat on the couch with the coffee cup in his hand. He was staring at the blank TV screen, looking at his reflection. The more he stared, the more it felt like the person staring back at him was a stranger. Sometimes he would do this, staring at his reflection until he could not recognize the face. People would find this an abnormal activity, but not to Ash. He was used to questioning the person he saw in his reflection.

Eiji’s laughter erupted from the other room. Ash grinned slightly. Eiji loved his mom, Ash knew. They loved each other. Like a normal family. Like what he always wanted.

The thought hit Ash. He violently shook his head – why was he thinking about this? Yes, it was Mother’s Day, but it meant nothing to him. He never knew his mom, anyway. Why would he want to celebrate a day dedicated to someone who had abandoned him? He thought it was some sick humor. Mother’s Day was just for people to rub their healthy relationship with their mom on those who didn’t.

Eiji had once told him that his mom cared for him, which was why he was named Aslan Jade Callanreese. The thought of his mom caring for him made him laugh. If she truly cared, why had she left Ash with that bastard of a dad? 

Ash’s vision suddenly got blurry. He scoffed and wiped his tears with the back of his hand. He didn’t understand why he was wasting his energy dwelling on this. His mom had left him. Full stop. He had gotten over it.

Right?

Ash inhaled shakily. He hated to admit it but he always yearned for a mom who cared. He wanted to know what it was like to come home from school to the smell of freshly baked cookies and the happy humming of a mom. On nights when he could not sleep, he found himself yearning for the touch of his mom, a woman he never got the privilege of knowing. More than anything, he wanted proof that his mom had loved him. The feeling of despair that came with this thought was overwhelming. Ash was suffocating in the loss of someone he had never known. 

Ash’s head dropped in his hands. He allowed his tears to flood on the carpet below. His body was shaking with gloom, his world turning black. All these years he hoped it would get easier and it never did. It never would.

Ash heard Eiji’s footsteps getting closer. He immediately stood up and wiped his tears away. He didn’t want to ruin Eiji’s day just because he got sad over his mom. Eiji deserved to enjoy this day – he deserve to enjoy every day.

“My sister wanted to talk to me in the end… I had to tell my mom I had somewhere urgent to go to just so I could avoid talking to her,” Eiji said.

Ash let out a light chuckle; he was doing his best to act normal.

“Ah, I see you made some coffee for yourself. Good to know you did not burn the kitchen.”

Ash chuckled again, looking away from Eiji. As much as he tried to hide his hurt, Eiji always noticed. He always knew when something was off.

Eiji walked towards Ash and sat next to him.

“You do not have to tell me what is wrong, but is there anything I can do to help? We can go get hot dogs if that is what you want.” Eiji softly said.

Ash smiled, “No it’s- it’s okay. It’s just…” Ash hesitated. “It’s Mother’s Day…” Ash could not get the words out of his mouth. The tears seemed to be spilling back immediately. Stupid emotions, he thought.

Luckily, Eiji immediately understood what Ash meant. He always did. “Oh,” Eiji said softly. “I am sorry, Aslan. I should have checked in on you today before I did anything else.”

“No, it’s really okay,” Ash assured him. “It’s not a joyful day for me but you do not have to go through any trouble. Just wishing I had a mom to celebrate this day with, I guess.”

Eiji rubbed Ash’s back. “I am here for you, Aslan. We can take it easy today, if that is what you want.” There were no amount of words that would heal Ash’s hurt but he wasn’t going to leave his lover alone – he never would.

Ash stayed silent for a moment until he opened his mouth to say, “Can… can you hold me?” 

Eiji nodded, “Of course.” He hugged Ash; Ash buried his face in the crook of Eiji’s neck, letting the tears roll. 

The lovers stayed in silence. All Ash needed was Eiji to let him know it would be okay.  

This is okay, Ash thought. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay… he kept repeating to himself, because as long as he had Eiji with him, everything was okay.

[utterlyinevitable]

‘Of all the lies I have ever lived, my favorite was you and I” Ethan x MC. ❤️ love your writing!!

thank you so much!🥰  i hope i did the request justice 🙈

For All The Lies

Word Count: 1.4k Warning: lil bit of angst Summary: This takes place two years after OH2. 

(art by @juliaraeart) ________________________________________

They sat around the fire of the large Cape Cod backyard at Harper’s engagement party. Becca had come as Bryce’s plus one, the surgeon wanting to spend as much time as possible with her while she was briefly back in town. A lot had changed since she accepted a research fellowship across the pond, an easier departure for her since Edenbrook had to make staffing cuts because of a budget shortfall. Becca consciously made the choice to leave the comfort she came to know for an opportunity of a lifetime and subsequently save another person's job.  

She hadn’t seen or spoken to Ethan Ramsey since she accepted a research fellowship. That was two years ago. 

Becca walked into the evening garden party on Bryce’s arm, her petite diamond still shining under the fairy lights. The moment Aurora saw the pair, Becca immediately let go and jogged over to her friend enveloping her in a hug. The two girls had kept in touch over the last few years, even setting up a free movement research programme between their two hospitals.

“What, no hug for me? I thought you loved me,” Bryce pouted at his two friends. 

The women chuckled and opened their arms letting him into the group hug. 

“That’s what I’m talking about. I miss being surrounded by beautiful women.” Ever since Becca left and residency ended last year the usual gang of doctors had spread out all over the globe, leaving Bryce with just one ally at Edenbrook - Elijah.    

One of the attendings waved Bryce over, leaving the two diagnosticians to talk. 

“How was your flight?” 

“Not bad. I’m not jet-lagged at all if I’m honest. Bryce is making sure I don’t pass out any time soon though,” she chuckled before quickly changing the topic, “I can’t believe Dr. Emery’s getting married.” 

Aurora looked directly into Becca’s eyes and said, “Believe me I never thought I’d see the day.” Harper Emery, like all Emery’s, was completely career orientated. Her career had been her longest and only love for as long as Aurora could remember. That’s why when she announced her engagement to the family they all thought it was an April Fools joke. “I’m happy she’s happy.” 

“Me too. Anyone special in your life?” Becca wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Definitely not. I’ll settle down when I’m retired.” 

There was a call for all family members to gather on the balcony for a photo with the happy couple. Aurora gave her friend and sorry smile as she departed. 

Becca timidly made her way over to the bar to grab a glass of champagne. She looked up at the stars shining in the sky and carefully took in her surroundings. She wondered if her own wedding would be as grand and glamorous as this reception. As if thinking the thoughts of her future while in Boston was a charm that summoned ghosts of her past, she heard a gruff clear of a throat from behind her. 

His velvety baritone voice cooed, “Dr. Lao.”

She couldn’t help the smirk that perked at her lips when she heard her name on his tongue - it was a Pavlovian response. 

Rebecca Lao turned around to see Ethan Ramsey apprehensively standing a few feet away, dressed head to toe in his trusty black tux. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she uttered back. 

In a space of over 300 people they still had such a hold over one another - for time stood still and Ethan and Becca were the only people permitted to move. In the distance a new song began to play from the orchestra.  

Ethan held out his hand, “For old times?”  

Without a second thought she took hold and with a small smile agreed, “For old times.”

The pair planted themselves in a corner of the laid out wooden dance floor and away from the commotion of rambunctious party-goers and attention of others who could misconstrue their embrace. Ethan had his hands respectfully on her waist, while she had her right hand draped over his shoulder and left securely on his chest. 

They swayed back and forth for a labored moment before either of them spoke. 

“Let me see,” Ethan nodded to the jewelry affixed to his chest. For a moment Becca completely forgot about her reality. Hesitantly she lifted her hand and placed it into Ethan’s waiting one. With intrigue and precision he rotated it back and forth, letting the silver diamond catch the light at each angle. “It’s decent,” he nodded in approval.  

“Not too shabby,” she agreed, staring at their interlocked hands. “Doesn’t get in the way and not as distracting.” 

Becca knew she never wanted to make a show of her relationship status, especially in her line of work where she’s constantly using her hands and needing to pull gloves on and off. Anything bigger than 2 carats was too much in her mind. She mindfully thanked her fiance for once again knowing her and her needs better than she herself did.  

“You’ve always been a magpie.” Ethan smirked as he remembered all the times she would get distracted by shiny objects in a shop window, on a screen or even the reflective glare of light.  

She rolled her eyes. 

“How.. have you been?” they weren’t the words he wanted to say but they were the ones their situation called for. He had no right to demand any personal information from her. Hell, he didn’t even deserve the privilege of her company but here she was in his arms after all this time.  

“Busy,” she said with absolutely no humor. “I now know why you preferred a solitary life.” 

Ethan’s face fell with the unintentional sting.  

He pulled his lips back up and pridefully told her, “I read your book.”  

Shock was evident all over Becca’s features. She knew her book was published globally and as an avid reader of all medical journals he was bound to read it. Still, it shook her that after all this time he was still paying attention. “What’d you think? Not as boring as yours, huh.”  

“Satisfactory,” she saw a flicker of mischief dance around his irises. “For a first time author.”  

Becca began to speak, “How -” at the same time Ethan added, “Wh-”.   

She let him continue on with his thought; 

The flicker of light was replaced with a dark cloud as he spoke, “Why didn’t you keep in touch?”  

Becca’s eyes grew heavy with sadness and she tried to look anywhere but at him. “Ethan…” 

He searched her features, using everything he learned about body language from years of doctoring and from knowing her body, for any semblance of an answer. 

All he found was guilt and… something else. 

She went to remove her hand from his and he squeezed it tighter. Her mouth fell agape and turned her gaze to meet his. Blue mimicked brown, both trying to convey all they wish they had the courage to say. Both wanting to mend all the problems they caused and all the decisions they’ve now come to regret. 

The brows above her sorrowful eyes rose, coaxing him to speak. 

Looking at the face of the woman he once passionately cared for, the woman who could see right through his facade, Ethan couldn’t form a coherent retort. He couldn’t think of anything he could say that would make up for all the lost time, all the lost moments. 

She squeezed his hand, egging him on. 

After a harsh inhale Ethan finally relayed the most daunting of words, “Of all the lies I have ever lived, my favorite was you and I.” Finally, after all this time - after all the tears shed he was finally able to say, “I’m sorry I pushed you away.” 

It was as if the admission crippled him, his hands fell from her immediately and he took a step back.  

Becca closed the gap between them once more and placed her hand over his heart. She stared at his chest, remembering the old blissful feeling of their skin on each other, as she maturely admitted, “We were meant to be in each other's lives but not in that way. I know that now, I’m sorry I kept forcing myself on you.” 

“You didn’t force anything.” He shook his head admonishing her words. “I wanted it all, every bit of you.” He placed his hand over her own. His eyes never shifted from her sullen ones that kept themselves fixed on their joined hands. “I’m sorry I wasted all that time lying about my feelings for you. I completely failed you - I know that now.”   

She balled her fist up against him. “Ethan…”  

“Are you happy?” 

“Yes.”  

“I’m glad,” he said with recognition for the most impressive person he has ever met and will ever meet.  

________________________________________

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[myfanwymusings]

QUICK GUIDE TO DÆMONS IN HIS DARK MATERIALS*

This is, by no means, meant to be a fully comprehensive breakdown of the mythos used in Phillip Pullman’s books and it’s subsequent adaptations. Rather it is meant to serve as helpful guide for role players and fiction writers who are dabbling in AUs based on the series. This guide will also be worded in as spoiler free of terms as possible, for anyone new to the series.

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS A VERY BASIC BREAKDOWN, THAT DOESN’T DIVE INTO SOME OF THE DEEPER CONNECTIONS OF DÆMONS AND DUST, DUE TO MAJOR SPOILERS. YOU CAN RESEARCH MORE, BUT YOU DO SO AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Firstly, although it is spelled in the old-English usage, the word is still pronounced as demon. Although, that hasn’t stopped many fans from saying Day-mon. It’s really up to you.

Dæmons are not pets. They are not real animals. This seems to be a hurdle for most newcomers, seeing people be “mean to the animals”. They only look like animals, they are not. Its just a physical appearance, they are made of Dust. Seeing someone be mean to their daemon is not animal cruelty, its self harm. Seeing someone mean to another's daemon is not animals cruelty,  its abuse against another person. Just remember that. Not a real animal.

Originally, before our mainstream view of gender evolved beyond just male and female--- it was said that your dæmon is “““the opposite gender of you””” --- but that is not always the case. Cases where this doesn’t happen can be affected by sexuality, gender, psychic gifts, etc. Phillip Pullman has said:  “There are plenty of things about my worlds I don’t know, and that’s one of them.”  Which means you can basically do whatever you want based on what makes sense to you. Literally. There are no rules anymore, so don't get hung up on this as some fans still do. The books were written when a more binary view of gender was the norm, so this particular aspect didn’t age well --- but as said above, Pullman admits there are gaps in this nowadays; so really just have it be whatever makes the most sense to you.

They are the physical manifestation of your soul. You share thoughts and feelings with your dæmon. Dreams, and can communicate verbally and non-verbally with them. However, you also share physical pain and a lifespan. One cannot live without the other, when a person dies their dæmon turns to Dust instantly.

“Dæmons are able to hold different intuitions to their humans and reveal emotional responses to their surroundings that might not otherwise be obvious in their humans.”   - hdm wikia

A child’s dæmon can change shape at will, and an intelligent child can have the shape change due to a particular need or emotion. Truly exceptional kids have also been able to have a dæmon use the abilities of one animal to while in another form, but this is extremely rare. This is due to the fact that children are ever changing and undecided yet. They could literally be anything, and their  dæmons represent that. An adult’s dæmon cannot change shape at all. It’s set in that form forever.

A  dæmon will typically settle in a final form around the time of puberty. The exact point might vary. The form is often reflective of something to do with their human’s life. It could represent their personality, but it could also represent a chosen career or way of life. For instance, guards and police often have dogs and canines. Witches (who also have dæmons but are a different species) ��often have birds. Your personal wish for what it might settle as has no bearing on what it will become.

It could also settle as something you might not even like, or would make your life challenging. In the books, there is a sea captain’s whose dæmon is a Dolphin. So he cannot be on land for long.

You cannot be separated from your dæmon for long or for great distances, it is physically painful to the point of causing trauma and death. In canon, it’s known that even a dæmon flying upwards to the next story of a building from their human began to feel uncomfortable.

There are a few practices that can allow for a separation of long distances. It’s voluntary, but only really a rite of passage for shamans and witches. It’s not easy to undergo otherwise due to societal, geographical, and other issues. Human’s doing so is practically unheard of... extremely rare to the point many don’t even know this is something you can do. [There are more details on this --- as well as alternate methods, but that falls into spoiler territory. Research at your own discretion]

Dæmon’s become intoxicated when their human’s do.  Cederwood has an effect similar to being drugged or drowsy in dæmons.

You do not name your dæmon, it is named by the dæmon’s of your parents at birth. Birth is also when your dæmon appears (how this happens exactly has yet to be detailed)

Touching another person’s dæmon is strictly taboo, it’s often accompanied by a strong sense of repulsion. The exception to this being an act of love in which two humans touch the other’s dæmon in a loving way.

The taboo is learned as you develop however, not instinctual at birth --- as instances of a person touching the dæmon of a baby has occurred in canon (no details given for spoilers), and instead of disgust, they felt privileged. Of course, this changed as the baby grew.

UNDER THE CUT IS ONE MORE POINT, BUT IT’S A BIT SPOILERY --- ITS NOT SUPER OBVIOUS HOW UNLESS YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH THE STORY, BUT FOR ANYONE WHO WISHES TO AVOID ANY SPOILERS, DO NOT READ.

SEMI SPOILERY: In worlds like our own, our dæmons still exist but they  don’t reside separate from us or to our awareness at all.

[shinidamachu]

No Place I Would Rather Be

Summary: We're a thousand miles from comfort. We have traveled land and sea. But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be. Word Count: 3.617 Genre: fluff Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

Boredom was eating him alive.

Days had passed without a single lead about the jewel fragments. So much that their little group had disbanded for the time being. Sango went back to what was left of her old village. It had been a while since she last paid homage to their dead. Kirara, of course, was her loyal company — and also ride. Miroku was visiting Mushin’s Temple, as if the place hadn't been profaned enough, already. Shippo was still around, but keeping his distance due to InuYasha’s stormy mood.

The frustration of it all got him desperately wishing for some kind — any kind — of action. Something that didn’t involve sulking under a tree and watching time crawl. Every second of this idleness meant another second Naraku was out there, still breathing. Collecting the shards was a small mean to achieve a bigger, imperative ending. It gave him purpose, a sense of getting closer to his ultimate goal step by step. Waiting got them nowhere. It only granted him to be alone with his thoughts and the combination was nothing but disastrous.

Lucky for him, his private source of distraction was not too far away.

Kagome was humming a foreign tune, the same one she liked to sing whenever she was happy. Following the melody was almost mandatory. InuYasha didn’t realize what he was doing until he arrived to the other side of it, where the girl thumbed through her hair in a futile attempt to tame her hair, the lake’s surface a natural mirror at her convenience. InuYasha made his presence known before his own reflection joined hers.

“It’s no use, ya know.”

“Jerk!”

The girl glared at him and retaliated by splashing water on his direction — of which he easily dodged. InuYasha had to admit her reaction was justified, given his past tendency to be utterly unkind to her. This time, however, although his tone wasn’t devoided of casual teasing, he was being completely honest. When you spend sunrise to sunset with someone for so long, it was inevitable learning a thing or two about them. Kagome had a wild hair. Not in a bad way, but it sure had its own will. Especially in the humidity, which was definitely the case of that afternoon. To an outside viewer, the strands could pass as straight. Noticing the shy waves at the end and how they used to stand out after getting wet was a privilege for the few allowed to look closer — a privilege InuYasha cherished. She always had her hair down and he liked that she did. It was destined to be free, to go with the wind. And it had grown a hell of a lot since they first met. The half demon wondered if Kagome was aware of how much. He certainly was.

Then she got up, revealing clothes that were undoubtedly new to his eyes. It was one piece, all lime flowers and malleable fabric against her cream skin. A bit longer than what she usually cared to wear, but leaving her arms and shoulders at plain sight in compensation. The view was thrilling, until his eyes caught the yellow backpack laying by her feet, causing his grin to falter. He understood the implication behind it, even if the question had yet to pass his lips.

“What’s with the weird kimono?”

“Oh, this.” Kagome lowered her gaze, inspecting for herself. Her combative attitude swiftly turning into a cautious posture. “It’s a sundress. I’ve been meaning to ask… can you please give me a ride to the well? I’m going home.”

There it was.

Somehow, getting his suspicions confirmed did nothing to prevent the scowl from forming on his face.

“Thought the school thing were over for the summer.”

“Well, yes...”

“Then why the fuck ya going home for? We still have plenty of supplies!”

“Because I promised I’d go to the movies with Hojo and now that we’re on vacation I don’t have excuses not to go, anymore. My grandpa literally ran out of diseases I could have. And what’s the point, anyway? Jewel hunting is going through a dry spell, everyone left… and I haven’t seen my family in weeks.”

Half of what she said didn’t make any sense to him and InuYasha positively hated the half that did.

“What if something comes up? I can’t see the damn shards like you do.” He argued.

“You jump through the well and get me.” She shrugged, as if the idea was highly unlikely. InuYasha opened his mouth to list the many, many reasons her solution was flawed. She bit him to the punch. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be back tomorrow. I bet Miroku and Sango won’t even be here yet.”

It wasn’t fair.

In general, storming off to her era was Kagome’s way of punishing him for being a massive asshole. He got that. To tell the truth, more often than not he deserved it. But InuYasha was in his best behavior — despite feeling rightfully entitled to throw a tantrum, given the circumstances — precisely because he needed her close. He needed her to stay. Picturing Kagome hanging out with someone else instead was the worst kind of self torture. Would she change her mind if he swallowed his pride long enough to say so? Would he ever get the guts to let it out? She hadn’t invited him to come along. Was this Hojo guy really that important to her? More than InuYasha was? Trying to talk her out of it was a dangerous move. He’d put his foot in his mouth, she’d put his face on the ground. That’s what they did.

Either his expression betrayed the turmoil inside or Kagome became too good at figuring him out. Whatever it was, her smile shined, reassuring and warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be so quick, you won’t have time to miss me.”

“Who says I’d miss ya?” He dismissed, his indifference unconvincing even to himself.

InuYasha perceived another presence approaching. Shippo. His arrival couldn’t be more providential. Kagome had a soft spot for the brat. If anyone could get her to stay, it was him.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just the runt.”

Like he had been announced, the kid emerged from the trees in a hurry, Kagome’s bow and quiver looking gigantic on his tiny hands.

“Kagome! InuYasha!”

“Shippo-chan! What’s going on?” She asked, as soon as the boy reached them.

“There are rumors of a jewel fragment, two villages to the west.” He explained, with the pomposity the information called for. “Kaede sent me.” His chin was up high, like the statement added a final hint of importance to the message. “Here,” continued the kit, offering Kagome her weapon in a formal manner.

She hesitated.

“Kagome, let’s go!” InuYasha was prepared to move at the sound of the word ‘jewel’, their earlier argument happily buried and forgotten.

“Wait! Don’t you think it’s strange? For days we had no leads, and now, just when we splitted up…”

“Yeah, well, so what if it’s a trap? It wouldn’t be the first.”

Coward that he was, Naraku resorted to the nastiests schemes in order to get what he wanted. His disgusting fingers laid on every happenstance that had ever caused them harm. What choice did InuYasha have, though? Ruse or not ruse, he had to check it. Regardless of anyone else’s help, it was his duty to get vengeance on the bastard — for Kikyo, for himself — and Kagome knew that.

She sighed and took the bow and arrows from the fox’s hold.

“Thank you so much, Shippo-chan! Now can you do me another favor?”

“Anything!”

“Go back to Kaede. Tell her InuYasha and I are on our way.”

“I’m not coming with you?” He whined, as confused as InuYasha. They never traveled without the child.

“That’s right. We don’t know how dangerous this may be. I need you to stay and if we don’t come back tomorrow by noon, get Miroku and Sango and send them to us. Can you do that for me?”

Shippo resolutely nodded .

“I won’t let you down, Kagome.”

“I know you won’t.”

And through the same path he had appeared he went. Kagome fixed a pleading glance at InuYasha.

“Can I at least change clothes before we g—”

“No time to waste.” He said, grabbing Kagome and her bag to leap towards west.

Kagome was whistling that same song again.

It took him an enormous amount of self restraint not to whistle along.

He was happy. So wonderfully happy. It was astonishing, the effect that tiny, bossy human girl had over his humor. The fact they were following the possible whereabouts of a lost jewel piece also played a role on his attitude swing, there was no denying that. But even if this turns out to be nothing at all, it would be a small price to pay in exchange of spending more time with her.

“Weren’t you mad about not coming home just now?”

His curiosity was genuine. Kagome had been angry since they left and InuYasha would be the person to know. She had two kind of anger. The one he could hear and the one he could feel. Even though she had been unusually silent, her frustration was palpable at first. Mercifully, it seemed to fade away the more ground they covered. Her one complaint was the soreness that too many hours on the same position inflicted upon the muscles, which was why they were both walking. As a rule, he was strictly opposite to anything that might slow them down, and the human pace was unbearable once you had a taste of demonic speed. Running free, with trees and people alike turning into a blur on each side of him, was an unparalleled sensation, amplified tenfold whenever Kagome was riding his back. He didn’t regret giving in, though. They weren’t far from their destination, after all. In addition, her comfort came to be a priority, despite him still being unaware as to when or how.

“Well… yeah, but… what can I do, right? Besides, I haven’t realized how much I missed this.”

Clueless, InuYasha searched their surroundings, unsuccessfully intending to spot what she could possibly be referring to.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“This!” She spinned around, open arms and face to the sky, chasing daylight like a sunflower, the movement bringing her garment to life. “You. Me. An adventure. Don’t get me wrong, I love Shippo and the others, I’m glad they joined us. It just feels like we haven’t had as much quality time together as we used to, after they did.”

“Y-you miss that?”

She shook her head up and down with enthusiasm and a content smile fought its way across his lips.

“I know we could hang out in Kaede’s village, but it’s not the same as going out. O-on a trip, I mean.”

Although InuYasha couldn’t make out why her cheeks were suddenly burning red, he did see the logic her reasoning, and the feeling was mutual. There was a certain level of closeness only the road could provide. No curious eyes. No sly comments. No need to explain themselves. InuYasha had missed that as well.

He often played with the thought of stealing her away, of placate his selfish thirst for her undivided attention. Not once had he imagined Kagome would be as eager to go as he was to take her. Regardless, the timing wasn’t right. It never was. From the moment they met, they were tossed into a mission and there was hardly space for anything else. So he settled for whatever he could get until it was over.

“Why would you miss those trips? It ain’t like I was nice to ya back then.”

It didn’t make sense to him that she would. His memories were of a spoiled little girl, complaining about the bugs and her aching legs and the fact she hadn’t bathed in days. There was no escaping InuYasha’s share of responsibility on the issue. He could have made her life easier, had he bothered to. But at the beginning he saw Kagome as a potential threat he would eventually get rid off. How could he have guessed, after the many betrayals he had endured through the years, that his heart would be safe on her hands?

Kagome limited herself to a shrug.

“You are now.” She stated, as if it made up for his unexcusable former behavior. Her unconditional forgiveness amazed him, no matter how regularly she had shown it to him. “Also, it feels like old times.”

“It doesn’t unless you get kidnapped, somehow.”

“It happened once or twice!”

“Keh! Stop kidding yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“No, shut up. I’m sensing a shard and it’s moving away.”

Wordlessly, InuYasha returned the backpack to her and offered her his back.

They raced at full gallop, Kagome guiding their course. The forest transitioned into arid highland, where dirt, thorns and rocky surfaces took place.

“Hey, you!” Kagome yelled at the youkai emerging in their camp of vision. Their target. Over his shoulder, the startled creature sneaked a peek at them and increased speed. Growling, InuYasha matched his rhythm. “Wait up! We won’t hurt you.”

“I’m pretty sure Imma hurt him.”

“Give the jewel fragment to us peacefully and you’ll be free to go!” She went on, his snide remarks as ignored by her as her plead was by the demon. InuYasha’s patience was wearing thin. Now that the rumors turned out to be true, his focus was entirely aimed at the task at hand.

“Are those fancy arrows of yours just for show?”

Kagome let out a deep breath. Shooting was her last ressource. She preferred to sort things out with words first. It rarely worked. Still she always tried.

“I suppose we have no choice.”

The arrow hit the creature in the calf and his groan of pain reverberated through the field. Not lethal, but enough of a nuisance to make him drop the run. InuYasha closed the distance between them within seconds. Kagome climbed off him and together they inspected their opponent.

On the floor, a possum demon hissed and exhibited his fangs at them, his ugly face twisting in agony while he pulled the arrow out. A cascate of blood immediately flowed from the wound. InuYasha was not fooled by it. Being a full youkai, he would be healed soon.

“Where is it?” InuYasha asked Kagome, not daring to leave the bastard out of his sight.

“His belly.”

“Step away, you filthy half breed!”

“Excuse me?” Kagome defied, any trace of courtesy forgotten.

“That was quite the damage she did on ya, there.” InuYasha released Tessaiga from its sheath as he approached the fallen man. “Think I can top it, though.”

“Step away, I said!”

His fear was palpable. InuYasha could feel it. See it. Smell it.

Smell it.

Faster than realization, the odor filled his lungs. It burned his nostrils, his throat. He could taste the toxic substance on his tongue. It was unbearable. And gasping for air only resulted in the pungent scent flooding him further, overwhelming his senses. A defense mechanism, he thought, his vision blurring, his knees giving in. I’m going to faint. No. No, no, no, no, no. Kagome. He had to protect Kagome.

There was a cry of his name.

And then an awful lot of darkness.

InuYasha came to abruptly, uncertain and alarmed by the new reality.

In one minute, the sun was up and he was succumbing, his consciousness leaving him to drift. In the next, he was awake and crickets sang the night’s arrival.

It was tempting to think he had dreamt the whole thing. A stupid, ridiculous, crazy ass dream. However, the lingering smell left no room for argument. It happened. The scent was weaker. Fading. But was there, overpowered by a significantly nicer aroma. A familiar one, sweet on the nose and soothing to the soul. Kagome’s.

He was lying half naked in her sleeping bag.

Sitting up, InuYasha seeked for the priestess, desperate to make sure for himself she was safe and sound.

The fragile light of her modern lantern illuminated the cavern that sheltered them. At its entrance, a girl rested — her silhouette contoured by a starry sky. 

“Kagome.”

“You’re awake!”

She rushed to him, tripping over her own eagerness. Her beautiful clothes were dirty and a bit ripped at the hem. A small scratch cut her cheek, remnants of dry blood tainting her skin.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine!” Kagome kneeled in front of him, a gesture he appreciated. There was no peace for him without an up close inspection of her well being. “I purified the demon after you blacked out. Turns out it was a trap. Thousands of Naraku’s second-class demons came for the shard when I took him down. I tried to purify those too, but more of them kept coming and I ran out of arrows, so I casted a barrier and—”

“You casted a barrier?”

InuYasha was beyond impressed. Barriers required great power and discipline. Even from Kaede or the monk. Kagome had apparently done it all by herself. Effortlessly. On the spot.

“To be honest, I don’t know how I did it. I just… I saw you lying there and I… anyway, the barrier purified the ones who touched it. Eventually they all died or left. How are you feeling?”

InuYasha didn’t answer the question.

“I’m sorry, Kagome, that you couldn’t rely on me.”

Guilt pulsed within him like a heartbeat. Constant and compulsory, expanding the outcomes of its work through every inch of his body.

“It’s not your fault. Your nose is too keen, of course you’d be affected the most.”

“But you got hurt!”

“In the thorns. I was careless. Don’t worry about it, it’s not even going to leave a scar.”

“It shouldn’t have even happened. I’m supposed be the one protecting you, not the other way around.”

It could have been worse. InuYasha should be grateful for that. He wasn’t. It could have been worse. And he wouldn’t be able to help her, to save her from this insignificant peril while she had already saved him in every conceivable way there was for a person to be saved.

“I’m not as helpless as I used to be, you know? I’ve grown a lot.” She had a point. InuYasha himself had told her that much, once. Kagome had faced scarier dangers than that. And she could absolutely take them. But he didn’t want her to have to. “Not to mention, it was totally worth it.”

As a proof, she exhibited a jewel fragment, glowing in the healthiest shade of pink.

“You got it!” InuYasha captured the shard, glancing at every angle of it in awe.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

Kagome went for her backpack and came back, falling on her knees again. Her hand dove in and emerged holding the glass container in which they kept the other pieces. She opened it and tilted the receiver to InuYasha, hinting for him to do the honors.

It was as if she had been waiting for him so they could do it together.

As if it was their private, sacred ritual.

He did as she wanted, mirroring her satisfied smile.

“Where’s my haori?”

“Oh! I… I put it away.” Blushing, Kagome tore her gaze from his and InuYasha followed it to a corner of the cave, where a huddle of scarlet fabric laid forgotten. “I figured you’d heal faster with that smell gone and your haori is soaked on it. Sorry.”

“D-don’t apologize, stupid. It was the right call.” To feel useful — and to occupy his brain with something other than the image of Kagome undressing him — InuYasha searched her backpack for the first aid kit, a tool from her era he was sadly too intimate with. “Now let’s take care of this cut.”

“Okay. You have to g—”

“I know what to do. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.” Her lips parted, and InuYasha added: “Don’t act so surprised.”

He cleaned the wound with cotton, water and soap, then used a different ball of cotton to carefully apply the content of a smelly little bottle to the extension of it. Kagome hissed, but he ignored it in favor of wrapping it all up with a band-aid. To ensure it was properly stretched, he gently ran his thumb through it, allowing the touch to linger more than necessary and his stare to go from her cheek to her eyes.

Her eyes.

The most stunning maze.

Let yourself get in, you are sure to get lost.

She blinked before he could, keeping them closed and leaning into his palm, her hand lifting to cover and caress his.

It would be so easy to grip her chin. To turn her face to him. To bring her to his lips. 

So easy to steal a kiss.

Why do the easiest actions have to carry the most difficult consequences?

Clearing his throat, InuYasha transformed present into a loving memory.

“Take some rest. We leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.”

On the way to claim Kagome’s prior guarding position by the entrance of the cave, InuYasha collected Tessaiga while she busied herself with getting cozy inside the sleeping bag.

“Kagome?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“InuYasha, I think we’re way past saying thank you for saving each other’s lives.”

“No, not for that. I mean, for that too, but... for coming. For staying by my side.”

“Stupid.” She mocked him, her voice lethargic as exhaustion finally caught up to her. “Where else would I be?”

A/N: this was some serious self indulgent bullshit. I regret nothing.

@inukag-week​ here is another piece of contribution. Kind of merged the Loyalty and the Instinct prompts here. Oops.

[goldenhemmings]

When You Love Someone | Streetfighter!Shawn (Part Four)

Whew. Hi. Not sure if anyone still cares about this series and I know Shawnblr isn’t what it used to be but I’ve had this part near completion for months and I finally just forced myself to finish it. Thank you to everyone who has still taken the time to send me messages of support for my writing over the past few months even though I’ve hardly posted anything. It means the world to me!

Also want to take this space to say very briefly that with everything going on in the world right now (especially for my fellow friends in the U.S.), staying out of politics/current events is a privilege and it is our responsibility to participate and to stay informed and aware. Do your part. 

With that being said, here is 5.8k words of Streetfighter!Shawn. There’s naturally some violence and all that stuff, so please don’t read if that’s something that would bother you. You can find parts one, two, and three in my masterlist. Enjoy!!

“Hey,” was the first word Y/N heard the next morning, and she groaned as she blinked her groggy eyes several times to slowly let in the light of the room. The first thing she became aware of was Shawn leaning over her, his hand on her hip as he lightly shook her awake. The second was the splitting headache that she felt in her temples. She moaned, still half-asleep as she covered her eyes with her arm to block out the brightness of the room. She had yet to realize the situation she was in.

“I know you’re tired,” Shawn continued, slightly amused as he continued to shake her into full consciousness, “but you have class. You should get up.”

Class. It’s Friday. That realization alone was enough to have Y/N jolting up like she was waking from a nightmare. “What time is it?” she cried, not missing the way Shawn, looking like a deer caught in headlights, had jumped back with a start.

“It’s 10. You have an hour.”

“Fucking hell,” she grunted, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She flew around the room, familiar to her only as bits and pieces of broken memories from the night before flooded back, and noticed a pile of her clothes in the corner at about the same time she realized she was clad only in a large t-shirt that certainly didn’t belong to her. She dashed over to retrieve last night’s outfit. “I’m gonna be so fucking late.”

“Relax,” Shawn reassured, moving to place his hands on her arms in an effort to ground her. “You have an entire hour.”

“I need to get home and change,” she mumbled, raising a hand to her aching forehead. 

“I’ll drive you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do,” he chuckled. “I promised you last night that I would.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, sheepishly, trying to ignore the small wave of nausea beginning to creep up on her. She didn’t remember that. “How are you, like, okay right now?” she queried, reaching to grab her phone from where it sat on the nightstand. “God, I feel like crap.”

He laughed softly. “I can obviously handle alcohol better than you.”

“No shit,” Y/N replied snarkily, laughing despite herself as she reached to pull her matted hair up into a hair tie. Wine always does you dirty, you idiot. What were you thinking? 

Shawn grinned, flopping back onto the bed and reaching to rest his hands under his head. As Y/N went to tug on her jeans, she realized for the first time that morning that Shawn was shirtless. She didn’t even have time to appreciate it before a wave of panic had set in. My clothes are on the floor. I stayed the night at his place. I don’t remember anything.

Y/N looked up at Shawn, wide-eyed. She took a deep breath. “Did we…?”

It took him a second to understand what she was insinuating, but as soon as he did he sat up immediately, his wide eyes mirroring Y/N’s. “God, no,” he replied. “You were drunk. I was too, for what it’s worth. You just slept here.”

“Right,” Y/N mumbled, slightly humiliated that she even had to ask. She’d never done anything like this before, and especially not on a night where she had class the next morning. “Okay.”

Shawn propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands. “I can take you whenever you want to leave.”

She glanced around the room one last time to make sure she had all of her belongings, then brought her eyes to Shawn. “Now’s good.”

“Do you want some ibuprofen or something first?” he offered, not oblivious to the massive hangover she was undoubtedly experiencing. 

But Y/N just shook her head, already out of his room and heading to the front door of the apartment. “I’ll be fine.”

Shawn laughed, pulling a shirt on and grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. “Whatever you say.”

He followed her down the dingy corridor towards the single working elevator, and they could hear it clanging to a stop on their floor before the familiar ding that preceded the opening of the doors had sounded. Shawn allowed Y/N to go in first, and he reached past her to press the button for the first floor. 

Y/N heaved a deep breath, taking in the complex’s surroundings as she and Shawn stepped out into the parking lot. Just how run down Westgate was became so much clearer in the daylight--startlingly so. 

Westgate was scary; there wasn’t a single person in the entire city that wouldn’t admit that much. In all actuality, Shawn made enough money from his fights that he could easily afford to stay in a much safer area. His current apartment was all he’d had the money for when he moved out of his parents’ house, but for whatever reason, he’d grown too attached to the place to want to relocate somewhere nicer. Additionally, Westgate was close to Dynamite, and it was where most of the people he ran with lived. He’d grown to not mind it; something he knew most people would never understand. 

The ride to Y/N’s house was silent, for which she and her pounding head were appreciative. “I’ll be quick,” she mumbled as Shawn pulled into her driveway, fishing her key out of her purse.

“No rush,” he responded. He watched with a slight smile as she made her way up the driveway to her doorstep, almost amused at the possibility that she was angry with herself for behavior anyone else would consider normal for a college student. 

Y/N turned the key into the lock of the front door, wincing at the creaking sound it made as she pushed it open. She crossed her fingers in the hopes that she wouldn’t run into her roommates, but her wishes were immediately denied as she heard Jade’s voice floating out from the kitchen. “Y/N? Is that you?”

Y/N didn’t answer, instead just turning to shut the door behind her. She saw Jade come into view, her curly dark hair pushed off of her face with a headband. “Woah. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Y/N scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Where were you?” her roommate continued, and Y/N leaned back against the front door and pressed a hand to her temple. “Brook and I were worried. We didn’t hear from you all night.”

“I was with Shawn.”

“All night?” she shrieked, and Y/N swore the sound made her brain rattle inside her skull.

“You’re gonna want to speak very softly to me,” she warned. “And as much as I’d love to stand here and have this conversation right now, I have class in half an hour and Shawn is waiting outside for me to get my shit.”

“And change your clothes, I’m assuming,” Jade chirped, and Y/N couldn’t even manage the energy to roll her eyes. 

“Thanks for that,” she griped, moving towards the stairs that would lead to her bedroom. 

“Want coffee?” Jade asked, but Y/N only shook her head no before disappearing down the hallway. After brushing her teeth and swapping her day-old outfit for some clean leggings and a freshly-washed hoodie, Y/N shoved her laptop into her backpack and swung it over her shoulder, silently praying that the computer was charged enough to get her through class. She clambered down the stairs and grabbed a protein bar from the kitchen despite the fact that even the mere thought of eating made her want to throw up, then threw it into her bag before retreating back to Shawn’s car. 

“Have everything?” he asked, and as soon as he saw her nod he put the Jeep into reverse to guide it out of the driveway. 

Y/N spent the brief car ride resting her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window and reveling in the silence that she knew would end the second she got to campus. Shawn eventually pulled up in front of the building Y/N’s class was held in, and she reluctantly pulled her backpack up into her lap.

“What time are you done?” Shawn asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had characterized the trip from Y/N’s house to campus. “I’ll pick you up.”

She immediately shook her head, already feeling guilty for all that he’d done for her in the past twelve hours. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay.”

“I want to,” he insisted, and Y/N took a deep breath as she realized that this was a battle she’d surely lose. 

“It’s supposed to end at 12:30, but the professor might let us out early because it’s Friday. I’ll text you.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, already looking forward to it even though Y/N had yet to leave the car.

“Stay out of trouble while I’m gone,” she teased, and Shawn laughed.

“No promises,” he joked back, leaning in to kiss her quickly before unlocking the car door. He watched her slide out of the Jeep and immediately press a hand to her forehead as the unfiltered light hit her eyes, and Shawn sat behind the steering wheel with a goofy smile on his face as he watched her climb the steps up to her class. 

When she set her things down at her usual place in the lecture hall, Y/N finally had a moment to breathe and process her thoughts; despite the rush, she’d made it to class with just over five minutes to spare. She had been so preoccupied with the hangover and her race to get to campus that she hadn’t even had time to reflect on the previous night; no chance to be excited about it, no chance to relive the memories that would surely make her stomach flutter, and no chance to even thank Shawn for all he’d done for her from showing her his secret rooftop, to telling her about his past, to sharing countless glasses of wine with her and allowing her to stay the night, and making sure she got to class the next day. She vowed to find a way to properly thank him as soon as the fogginess in her brain cleared up enough to allow her to think clearly. 

Shawn, on the other hand, could do nothing but think about the previous night as he drove back to his apartment. He’d hated having to wake Y/N up that morning; there was nothing in his life that had ever made him happier than seeing Y/N’s peaceful face pressed into his pillow, her body curled into his sheets. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to put an end to it. As he drove he thought about getting her coffee, but decided it would be better to stop for it on his way back, so he pulled into the parking lot of his run-down apartment complex as planned.

From that point, however, any plans he had were out the window.

As Shawn turned into his typical parking space, he couldn’t help but notice a familiarly burly, blond-haired man standing in the spot and thus blocking Shawn’s path. Axel. Shawn froze, but he did his best to feign nonchalance as he shifted the Jeep into park and slid out of the driver’s seat. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his skin instantaneously crawling in response to the casual smile that crossed Axel’s mouth.

“I want to talk about the stunt you pulled with Damon at the bar the other night.” 

Shawn sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. That little shit swore he wouldn’t say anything. “What about the stunt you pulled with me? Interrupting one of my fights to get some bullshit form of revenge because you still can’t stand that I beat you?”

Axel’s jaw clenched. “Is that why you ran the second I showed up?” he interrogated, sarcasm dripping from his lips. “Because you really seemed confident in your ability to beat me then.”

“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. You had me triple-teamed.”

“Get over yourself.”

“Could say the same to you,” Shawn laughed, but he took a threatening step closer to the blond in front of him. “Tell me what you’re doing here.”

The same sickening smile made its way back onto Axel’s face, and though he’d never admit it, it began to make Shawn uneasy. “I was waiting to confront you again until I had leverage.”

“What leverage?” Shawn spat, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Damon said your little dispute that night was over some girl he’d never seen before.” 

Shawn ignored his instigative words. “Wouldn’t call it a ‘dispute’ so much as him getting his ass kicked. And for good reason.”

“Maybe so,” Axel conceded. “But we can agree that it was over a girl?” Shawn was quiet, but he swallowed heavily. “Right,” Axel continued, seemingly accepting Shawn’s silence as an affirmative. “So I had him and Rocco do some investigating, and--” Shawn’s heart plummeted. 

“What, have you been following her?” Shawn interrupted, fists clenched at his sides.

Axel lit up with a sort of delighted expression, his sharp blue eyes unwavering from Shawn’s face. “So there is a girl.”

Shawn strode toward his challenger until he was less than a foot away from his face. “Did you have her followed?” he repeated furiously.

“At first,” Axel admitted, and Shawn’s blood boiled hot. “But then Raven decided to help us out. You know she’s never been one to keep her mouth shut.”

Raven. Of course. “I swear to God, Axel. She is a nice person and she doesn’t deserve any part of this. You lay a single fucking finger on her and I’ll--”

“Easy, Mendes,” Axel laughed, much to Shawn’s chagrin. “I don’t know what she looks like. Hell, I don’t even know her name. But I guess Raven was right when she told me that you really seem to give a shit about her.”

Shawn scoffed, incredulous. “What, are you running around with Raven now?”

“Jealous?” Axel smirked.

Shawn could only laugh at the assertion. “You two deserve each other, that’s all.”

“You’ve been there too, Mendes. What does that say about you?”

“What do you want?” Shawn demanded, ignoring Axel’s antics, but the phrase was flat and menacing; less of a question and more of a command. “Stop wasting my time talking about whatever leverage you think you have and tell me what you actually want.”

“Nothing, really,” Axel replied, making a dramatic show of shrugging his shoulders. “Just came to give you fair warning that the next time you decide to take on me or one of my guys outside of Dynamite, we have a pretty good idea of how to get back at you. And I have a feeling it’d hurt a hell of a lot more than a punch to the face.”

“Do not threaten her.”

“I mean it as more of a threat to you. Like I said,” Axel went on, ignoring Shawn, “I don’t know her name or what she looks like, but I could find out so fucking quick if you don’t stay in your own lane. Try me.”

Shawn didn’t realize he’d punched Axel until he recognized the pain in his own knuckles. Or maybe it was when he felt Axel’s fist collide with the corner of his mouth in retaliation. Regardless, Shawn’s mind was overwhelmingly clouded with rage and protectiveness and a thousand other feelings he was too emotional to pinpoint. Mentally Shawn was back at Dynamite, taking on a challenger as he had done so many times before. But now, for the first time in his life, there was a real reason why he was fighting. He didn’t care that he was in a parking lot; no one, not even Axel, would threaten Y/N and expect to walk away from it unscathed. 

Armed with a motivation and an anger he’d never felt before, Shawn got to work. Axel was pinned on the pavement within seconds, thrashing under Shawn’s strength so violently that it was almost funny. 

“Are we done now?” Shawn grunted, reveling in the way Axel struggled underneath him. 

“Behind you,” Axel heaved, turning his head to the side to spit blood onto the pavement. “Cops.” 

Shawn smirked. “Can’t take it?”

“I’m serious, man,” he groaned. “Look.”

Shawn was still tense, but he turned over his shoulder anyways only to catch sight of the squad car Axel was talking about parked across the street. “Shit.”

“We’ll finish this another time.” Axel turned to run off, but not before Shawn could grab him and immediately pull him into a tight chokehold. 

“Why do you keep trying to fight me when I always win?” he sneered. “Give up.”

“Let me go before I flip you over my shoulder,” came Axel’s equally menacing reply, but Shawn knew he wouldn’t have the energy left to do so. 

“When I do, you’ll leave Y/N alone,” he seethed into Axel’s ear. “Got it?”

“If you stay out of my shit, then yes,” Axel grunted, lacking the energy to fight back. He turned to face Shawn after being released from his grasp, his blue eyes narrowed and his lips pulled up as though something was curious or amusing. With his cockiness, it was hard to believe he’d just been in a chokehold. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Leave,” Shawn commanded, not at all willing to put up with Axel’s antagonizing words or draw unwanted attention. 

Once Axel had darted off around the corner of the building, Shawn, not bothering to address the fact that his Jeep was only halfway in its parking spot, ducked his head and dashed towards the lobby of his dilapidated apartment complex. He ignored the throbbing in his lip and the metallic taste of blood on his tongue as he maneuvered his way to the elevator without drawing the attention of the elderly woman working in the lobby, breathing a sigh of relief once he was safely behind the closed doors and en route to his floor. 

Once inside his apartment, Shawn made a beeline for the bathroom. He took in his reflection and sighed; he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink, bringing it up to scrub at the blood around the corner of his mouth that was beginning to dry. 

He didn’t bother to be gentle or work around his pain; after years of fighting, it was something he was oddly numb to. He could see his eye beginning to bruise, and as he clenched the cloth in his hand he noticed that his knuckles were, too. He laughed to himself as he wondered how much worse Axel would look.

It wasn’t until the last of the blood had been rinsed down the drain when realization dawned on him: he’d forgotten about Y/N.

“No, no, no,” he rambled, immediately pulling out his phone to find three messages from her that he’d missed.

12:24 Hey! I just got out of class. I know it’s a little early, so take your time.

12:40 Are you close?

12:57 I’m just gonna walk. Talk to you later.

And then nothing. 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, dialing her number with no thought of what he was even going to say. 

After sitting through a mind-numbing lecture for an hour and then walking home through a hangover, all Y/N wanted to do was shower, put fresh clothes on, and sleep for the rest of the day. She was just about to test the water temperature in her shower when her phone rang, so she reached for where it sat on the bathroom counter and took a deep breath when she saw Shawn’s name lighting up the screen. She didn’t realize that she’d made the conscious decision to answer the call until she heard herself saying hello. 

“I’m so sorry I forgot,” Shawn blurted. “I promise there’s a reason.”

She sighed as she took in his words, too exhausted to bother with it. “It’s really no big deal.”

“Yeah, it is, though,” he responded. “Can I pick you up in a little bit? We can get dinner and I can try to make it up to you.”

“Not tonight, Shawn. I’m really tired. I’ve gotta go.”

Shawn groaned when he realized she’d hung up, pressing a hand to his forehead in frustration with himself. It didn’t take long before he’d grabbed his keys and decided to make the drive to Y/N’s house; he wanted to give her a real apology, and he wanted her to know that he cared enough to do it in person.

When Y/N got out of her shower, feeling significantly better than she had all day, all she could think about was going to sleep, even if it was only three in the afternoon. She changed into fresh, clean clothes and crawled into bed, heaving a sigh of relief after she felt every muscle in her body relax into the mattress.

It seemed that not even two seconds after her head had touched the pillow, one of her roommates was calling out for her from downstairs. At first Y/N ignored it, opting instead to pull the covers up over her face as though it would successfully shut her off from the rest of the world. But the voice, presumably Brooklyn’s, sounded again, and Y/N knew she couldn’t avoid it. Frustrated to the point of tears, she slid out of bed and trudged down the stairs, griping the whole way.

“You’d better be dying or something, Brook, because if I just dragged my hungover ass all the way down here for something stupid I’m--” Y/N froze as the front door came into view; rather, as the person behind the front door came into view. 

“Shawn?” she questioned tentatively, squinting at the bright light coming in from the doorway. “What are you--Holy shit.” She strode towards him with a newfound energy as her eyes registered the wounds on his face, her hands immediately coming up to hold his chin for a better look. “What happened to you?”

“I’m gonna go upstairs now,” Brooklyn muttered, turning away from her roommate, but the comment was disregarded by both Y/N and Shawn. 

Shawn pretended that Y/N’s wide, concerned eyes didn’t tug at his heart, instead simply shrugging his shoulders and gingerly removing her hands from his face. He turned away to finally close the front door. “It’s not important. Are you feeling better?”

“I saw you a few hours ago. You were perfectly fine,” she cried, ignoring his lame attempt to change the subject.

He sighed, running a hand with freshly-bruised knuckles through his hair, and followed her to the couch in the living room. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not being there to pick you up from class,” he started, still avoiding the only topic Y/N now cared about. “I told you I would, and I fucked up. I didn’t want you to be mad and think I forgot, or that I was ignoring you, or--”

“I don’t care about that,” she cut in softly. “Why do you look like this?” She shook her head slightly, in disbelief. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he defended, but Y/N wasn’t having it. 

“You do not look like that for no reason,” she challenged, cocking her head to the side. 

Shawn heaved a breath, leaning his head back against the sofa. “I know,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just--okay. Remember the night we met?” Y/N nodded. “I told you I was running from a group of guys, one of them being the asshole I pulled off of you. And I told you about the one who’s kind of their leader, too.”

Y/N nodded once again, curious as to where this was going. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Okay, well, he apparently didn’t like that I beat up on one of his buddies that night.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“He was pissed off enough to show up at my apartment and threaten the hell out of me about not doing it again. I didn’t like what he was saying, so I hit him,” Shawn admitted, though there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice. He paused. “And then he hit me back. And then...you know. So that’s why I forgot to come get you.”

Y/N inhaled sharply as she processed Shawn’s words. “Why did he wait so long to find you if he was really that angry?”

“I don’t know,” Shawn lied. Y/N didn’t need to know that there were men who had, at one point, been tracking her for the sole purpose of having something to hold over Shawn’s head. He wanted to leave her out of it, for her own sake. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Well how did you get him to finally leave you alone?”

Shawn sighed, reaching a hand up to the back of his neck. “We saw a cop car parked across the street, so we ran. Not trying to get involved with that.”

“I don’t understand,” Y/N admitted with a frown. “He chased you away from your own match with every intention of catching you and fighting you. Now, what? He’s mad because you defended yourself--and me--from some asshole who happened to be one of his friends? And then he showed up at your apartment to fight you over it? That doesn’t make sense. It’s hypocritical.”

Shawn could only shrug. “That’s just how he is. Always has to have the upper hand on everything.”

“But you’re still going to fight him again.”

“No idea. But if I do, it’ll be the right way.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “How is there a right way to fight someone?”

“Dynamite,” Shawn muttered. “Like, officially. In front of people.”

“God,” she whispered, reaching her fingers up to lightly trace over a fresh cut on his cheek. “Who is this guy?”

He breathed out softly. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Y/N was quiet, and it made Shawn nervous. Seeing the physical effects of his pastime of choice made Y/N realize the true intensity and danger of what Shawn was involved in, and what she was seeing in front of her wasn’t even from a full, official fight--he had people trying to go after him on the side, too.

“What’s wrong?” Shawn asked softly, unable to withstand the silence for any longer. 

“This just scares me,” Y/N whispered. She nervously fidgeted with her fingers, her eyes downcast. “Half your face is busted and there are people, like, after you and you’re acting like nothing even happened.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle. For me, this isn’t a big deal.”

“But I’m not you,” she pressed quietly. “For me, this is a little concerning.”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked, but Y/N just stared back at him, anxiously pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and biting down on it. 

Shawn couldn’t ignore the crease in her brow, and he fought the urge to reach up and smooth it out. “Come stay with me tonight.”

“I-I don’t know, Shawn,” she stumbled, slightly taken aback. “I’m really tired and I have a lot to do and it’s not--”

“I won’t bother you at all,” he promised. “You can do homework the whole time, or sleep, or whatever you want.”

“But I can do that here, too,” she pointed out, the teasing glint in her eyes giving away that she was actually closer to saying yes than she was pretending to be. 

“I just like having you around me,” he admitted, but it was only part of the story. The whole truth was that it would make him feel infinitely better if she was with him, because he could guarantee that nothing would happen to her. He’d never admit that out loud, and he certainly couldn’t mention it to Y/N. He knew it would scare her, and that’s the last thing he wanted to do. 

He watched Y/N study his bloodied knuckles as she contemplated his offer. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that Y/N’s entire essence was the antithesis of his, to the point where it was almost comical. If it weren’t for the fact that she seemed to like him just as much, Shawn would feel selfish for wanting Y/N in his life; like he was dragging her into something he knew she deserved better than. 

Y/N let out a heavy breath, carefully studying Shawn’s face. He raised his eyebrows at her, eliciting a small giggle before she finally delivered the verdict. 

“Fine,” she said, trying to be stern but unable to fight off a smile. “But I’m going to bed the second I get there.”

“Okay,” he grinned. “My car’s in the driveway, so we can leave whenever.”

“Can I have a few minutes, actually? I should probably talk to my roommates before I just leave again, plus I need to grab some clothes and stuff.”

“Of course,” he answered, not realizing how annoyingly nervous he’d been that she’d say no until she agreed. “I’ll go pick up coffee and then come back.”

“I can’t drink coffee right now, I need to sleep,” she laughed.

“Right, okay. Tea then.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “I’ll see you in a few.”

With that she headed up to her room to begin throwing her books, some clothes, and a toothbrush into a bag, but Brooklyn was waiting in Y/N’s room for her.

“So,” Brooklyn started, watching her friend as she moved to grab her backpack from where it sat next to her dresser. “You gonna tell me what happened to your boyfriend?”

“I was about to come find you, actually,” Y/N sighed, softly shutting a textbook that was on her desk and reaching to put it into her backpack. “Have you already talked to Jade?”

Brooklyn nodded, offering a comforting smile. “I wanted to see if she’d know what was going on, but she was just as clueless as me.” She paused, seemingly considering whether or not she was going to continue talking. “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just that the protective friend in me is a little concerned that, the first time I’m meeting this guy, he looked like that. I’m thrilled that you’re happy, at least from what I can tell, but I want to make sure he’s a good person worthy of my best friend.” 

Y/N smiled, and it was genuine. It wasn’t hard for her to understand why Brooklyn would be concerned on her behalf. “I’m going to stay with him again tonight,” she admitted, not missing the way Brooklyn’s eyes widened, silently prompting her for more details. “I don’t know,” she continued. “It’s just so easy to be with him, which is weird because most of the shit he does when I’m not around scares me to death.”

“Like what?” Brooklyn queried, carefully watching Y/N, but she didn’t answer right away.

“Jade?” Y/N called out, pausing to wait for a response. When her other roommate’s voice floated out from across the hall, Y/N wasted no time asking Jade to come to her room; she only wanted to explain this once, which meant she needed both of her roommates with her. 

“Hey,” Jade said, moving to sit on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just want to tell you guys about Shawn. I feel like I haven’t talked to you both in forever, anyways.”

“Shawn,” Jade imitated. “So he has a name now.”

“Shut up,” Y/N groaned, and both of her roommates laughed. “I really like him, you guys. He’s...I don’t even know, he’s just not like anyone I’ve ever known before. He’s so tough all the time but there’s also, like, this depth to him that…” She stopped, moving her eyes down to sheepishly stare at the floor. “God, I probably sound so stupid.” 

Jade and Brooklyn exchanged looks, which Y/N did not like. “Okay, acting like you’re reading each other’s minds like that is stressing me out,” she laughed, but it was fueled by nervousness. She desperately wanted her best friends to like Shawn; without their approval, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

“You don’t sound stupid at all, and we’re not trying to stress you out,” Brooklyn reassured. “We just know what your last relationship did to you and I think I speak for both Jade and myself when I say that we never want to see you go through something like that again.”

“Shawn is nothing like he was,” Y/N insisted, unwilling to so much as say her ex’s name. 

“If you say he’s not, then I believe you,” Jade chimed in. “I’m so happy to see you excited about a different guy, but I just want you to be extra careful of any red flags. And Shawn showing up at our door all beat up isn’t exactly the image I want in my head of the guy my best friend is spending all her time with.”

“It’s normal for him,” Y/N insisted, then immediately reconsidered as she took in the looks on her roommates’ faces. “Okay, so it’s not normal but it’s not shocking. He fights professionally so it just comes with the territory, I guess. He’s never worried about it, so I’m trying not to be.”

“Another fighter?” Jade interrogated, concern clearly taking over her features.

“I know, I know, but this is different,” Y/N jumped, quick to defend Shawn. Her ex had been a boxer, and so she could understand her friends’ concern over the strangely coincidental similarity the two shared. “Shawn doesn’t just go around looking for trouble outside the ring, and from what I understand his style of fighting is different, anyways. He’s different.”

Jade moved next to Y/N, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “We just want you to be careful,” she said softly. “If Shawn makes you happy, then we’re happy for you.”

Y/N finally looked up at her friends and held out her arms for a hug, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that this long-overdue conversation had finally happened. Now that things were right with both Shawn and her roommates, Y/N felt like she could relax again. “I’m always careful,” she reassured, offering a slight smile once Brooklyn and Jade pulled away from their group embrace. 

But no amount of being careful could have prepared her for what was yet to come.

Thank you for reading!! Feedback makes me very happy.

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[of-tatooine]

honor him. | chapter 2 - red crosses

the thought of assassinating her troubles you and he needs to know.

This one would be different.

There was a reason everyone on the street fled for their dear lives at the sight of him, his blade reflecting his scar under the moonlight for all to see. They did not call him the Knife of Dunwall for nothing - his stone-cold heart and blood, dead-silent movements and ability to take lives like he was a reaper through wheat gave him the recognition. He had done this countless of times before, with and without the wretched mark on his left hand. Fulfilled contracts, asked for extra coin for his trouble without feeling an inch of remorse as he washed some noble’s blood off of his hands.

It was not common for him to hesitate, for him to reconsider any deal he made as an assassin. Ever since he came to the unforgiving streets of Dunwall, killing and taking heads for favors or some other ulterior motive had been the reason he was still alive.

She had just been a contract, after all. Kill and get paid. In and out quick, without any survivors, just the way Daud had done things all along.

Then why did his thoughts stall for a minute, every time he thought of the contract in his pocket that Burrows made him sign?  Why did the mark on his hand cease to glow as he pictured the Empress and her little heir, governing the Isles the best they could inside the Dunwall Tower?

As his darkened gray eyes looked over the damp streets and molding rooftops of the Flooded District, the whale songs echoing in his mind did not cease to remind him that the otherwise fortune of coin would never be worth Jessamine Kaldwin’s blood on his hands. He could never mute the screams of her daughter, ringing in his ears for years to come, if he were to take her life away in front of her juvenile eyes.

It was only natural for an assassin of his caliber to let go of his feeling of guilt - at this age and experience, with all types of blood coating his leather-gloved hands, Daud was not even sure if there was enough heart left in him, maybe he was not even capable of feeling it anymore. Sure, some missions had been harder to forget than others, keeping him up at the night of, knowing he was serving only to some noble bastard’s needs and wants - the next day he would be back to business as usual as he cleaned his sword.

With every step taken in the streets of the capitol of the Empire, every poster plastered on the brick walls, every bust and every painting and every monument after the Kaldwin name, he knew the memory of her death would hurt his skin like a burning fire.

“I can’t do it.”

Words he wanted to say for a long time but never could were spoken out as the feminine voice echoed through his quarters. Words he never thought he would hear from you. There were very few people who were allowed to step into his chambers unannounced and uninvited - being one of those who had the privilege, you made your way up the stairs where he usually slept.

It was Daud’s day to be surprised, it seemed, as he turned around to be faced with your bare face, sans the vapor mask you usually sported around the compound. All those years working alongside the assassin had not changed your pure and simple beauty, he would think - you had still been the girl he had taken under his wing from Karnaca, with the ever-lasting talent for sword fighting and the burning fire in your eyes.

Somehow, you had managed to keep a piece of you whole inside despite the cruelties you have indicted upon others, emotions and traits that defined who you were as a human - something Daud wished he knew how to do better.

“Sit down,” the older assassin would say in his usually gruff voice, this time etched with a slight concern as he pulled a chair out for you, as he opted to sit down on a nearby shipping crate facing you. You obliged with a silent nod - the mere gesture itself suggested he had been thinking about the same thing but did not want to admit it.

He had to look strong for his assassins, after all. Just like he had been all these years as he trained them all. He had to be undefeated for you, so you would have someone to look up to, to follow after. To kill and die for.

The assassination of an Empress to send the Empire reeling into the hands of dirty conspirators was not exactly the example you wanted to follow.

“Daud...” you started with a solemn voice as you looked up to meet his eyes, his arms folded on his chest. It was at that moment he noticed the redness in your eyes - you had trouble sleeping last night, maybe had not slept at all. “I’ve been... thinking. About what would happen to us after tomorrow. What would happen to you.”

The assassin shifted ever so slightly on his feet as he adjusted his sitting position, leaning a bit closer to your frame on the chair, your arms crossed although not in a threatening stance. “Haven’t I taught you enough to know that I will not fail a contract?”

You knew. You knew too damn well. He would go to the ends of his means to execute, capture, neutralize - whatever cruel action he was getting paid for. The huge board downstairs in his office was adorned with portraits with red crosses, if anyone needed proof of just what the man could do. “This time, I’m worried about what will happen if you don’t fail.”

Piercing orbs stared into his darker ones, able to spot the slight glimmer of doubt, of concern in them. Then they spotted the edge of the paper visible through his red leather overcoat. Daud ran a hand over his face, his mark glowing in the lightest shades of orange as he did so. A low sigh leaving his lips.

“The Empress will be dead tomorrow with the heir delivered to Burrows. Campbell and him can reap what they sow themselves - that’s none of our business. You understand me?”

Daud tried so hard, and succeeded, to not show any signs of weakness as he spoke in a stern manner, the words only aimed to make you focus on the task at hand and not distract yourself with any and all consequences that may come their way. It was not your vendetta to fulfill - you had been merely an agent to greater means in the scheme. That was what Daud had been telling himself since the day he picked up that pen and signed at the offices of the Royal Spymaster.

“You remember how I ended up in the streets of Aventa to begin with?”

Right after you uttered those words out of your lips, your tone noticeably softer yet your eyes glassy, was when he stopped. Jaw-clenched as vivid memories began roaming around his clouded mind like wolfhounds on loose. Memories that belonged to you, that you let him into a long time ago.

His usually domineering stance was slightly weakened as he took a deep breath, looking down on the rusty metal floor. This contract was proving to be one of the hardest things, if not the hardest, that he had to do during his entire life of sorrow and bloodshed - yet another decision loomed over in front of him.

Did he have the luxury to put his most-trusted protégé and killer on the sidelines for the mission of their lives?

If it had been anyone else but you, he would not.

Emotions, history and ethics did not mix well with the line of work they were in and every seasoned assassin knew so - hence why most of his Whalers kept their families, old lives and stories to themselves, if they had any.  But, you... he knew exactly where you were coming from. What you went through - he witnessed with his own bare eyes. How the fire in your eyes dimmed as you lost so much in your life. And how training with the assassins helped you win that spark of serving some purpose back in your orbs.  

He was going to stab a sword through an Empress the next day - if he indeed wanted to pursue his redemption, showing mercy and empathy to his favorite would be the start.

The man got up from his seat, determined, calmly walking over to the map of Dunwall Tower that was laid on over his bed - he must have been studying all possible strategies, playing out scenarios in his mind all night. Pointing to the furthest tower to the planned assault location, his tall frame partially turned to you. “You’re on watch duty tomorrow. No killing,” he ordered you, with a slight nod.

Even when his emotions had been willingly suppressed to prepare himself for the upcoming battle, you read through his actions and words. A man like Daud did not help you out by hugging you every single time you had doubts and telling you everything would be okay. He instead gave you a way out, some much needed leeway, however temporary it may be.

You accepted it with gratitude, sending him a faint smile accompanied by a nod as you got up from the chair.

“Thank you,” you would add in a whisper, your gloved hand gently lingering on his leather-covered arm for a moment before you took a quick glance at the map you had memorized over the past month, your boots slowly carrying you towards the double doors of his quarters.

Watching you leave with his stare softening, Daud ran his long fingers through his dark hair as your red-leather silhouette dissipated into thin air.

Tomorrow, he was going to initiate the fall of an Empire into ashes in the hands of some traitor dogs. All he could hope for was for someone to forgive him, somehow, at some point in time.

[artificialqueens]

If We Walk Down This Road, 1/2 (Scyvie) - Ashley

It’s the final year of sixth form and stress levels are high for Yvie as she balances school work, Uni applications and her “part-time” job in a kids activity centre. However, things only get worse when her boss decides to hire his privately educated, definition of privilege daughter, Scarlet, as their marketing assistant and she rubs Yvie up the completely wrong way. Until, of course, she doesn’t.

Here goes a very late submission to the black girl magic fic! Hope you guys like it! This is a prequel of some sorts to my fics Got My Number and Girl on Fire but it works fine as a standalone so you don’t have to have read those to understand anything. Big thanks to @pink-grapefruit-cafe and @artificialortega for all the help, love and support with this fic.

Yvie loved her life. She wouldn’t have changed a piece of it for the world. Only, every now and then, she longed to be someone else.

This feeling usually arrived when making her way through the industrial estate, hearing the loud Kidz Bop music they were forced to play at her work ring in her ears before the building was even in sight. In fact, that feeling arrived every single time she walked towards her work, it was just something she had become accustomed to. It wasn’t the worst job in the world, she got to hang out with Jaida, Heidi and Priyanka on the weekends and the pay wasn’t awful. She just sometimes wished that after a long, frustrating day of writing essays she could stay on the bus until she arrived home, take a nice shower and do her homework with the telly on instead of hopping off after just six stops to put on a fake smile for a few hours and pray that no one was sick in the soft play area.

And on what seemed like the dullest Friday since she had started her job there, God (who she didn’t really believe in but had no one else to make the prayer to) decided that it most certainly wasn’t her night because a grand total of three kids were sick in the soft play instead of just the usual one.

So worth the twenty pounds she’d end off earning. So, so worth it.

Ready to throw her gloves in the bin, wash her hands at least four times and spend the rest of the night lurking at the back of the cafe until it was time to close, Yvie was stopped in her tracks when she returned back to her spot. Her spot that was currently occupied by a thin, unfamiliar red-head.

Pale legs poking out of a plaid skirt that reeked of prefects and lacrosse games, she stood out like a sore thumb against the bright yellow hoodies that made up their uniform (Yvie’s slightly stained with bleach and too short for her gangly arms). Yvie watched in silence for a second as the girl burrowed through the fridge, hearing a big, dramatic sigh of relief escape her red lips as she laid eyes on a Coke Zero.

“Can I help you?” Yvie asked.

Only it wasn’t really a question, Yvie using her level ten voice that was usually only saved for people who tried to push in the queue for the toilet on nights out or for idiots who answered easy questions wrong on Pointless when she watched it at Nina’s house. Annoying customers were normally only confronted with a mid-range level of anger on Yvie’s behalf, passive-aggressive rather than completely pissed off. As much as forever feeling the need to call out people in the wrong irked her, Yvie knew that she shouldn’t do that at work, leaving it for at home where the threat of being fired didn’t loom over her shoulder like the grim reaper’s scythe.

Something about this girl just threw that out into the window and sent it flying down the motorway at rapid speed, Yvie’s patience nowhere to be seen.

“Sorry.” The girl giggled. Actually giggled. “Took me forever to find the sugar free!”

“Normally you’d wait to be served it.” Yvie shot imaginary laser beams with her eyes. “At the other side of the counter.”

Yvie watched the girl pause, a coy grin on her face as her eyes danced between Yvie’s face and her own reflection in the clean glass.

“It’s a shame there was no one there to serve me!” She unscrewed the lid from the bottle, taking a swig and aaahing in delight as though it were the nectars of Greek gods.

Her voice was posh.

Not tea and crumpets, let’s-go-shoot-some-clay-pigeons posh but still posh nonetheless. She pronounced the Ts in her words in a way that neither Yvie nor any of her friends did and Yvie knew that if she wasn’t so furious she would have found it sexy.

She was always a sucker for a posh voice.

“Well, if you’d have waited two minutes then I would have been here,” Yvie replied, letting her nails squish into the palms of her own hands - a self-control mechanism that didn’t tend to work when your nails were bitten down to stumps like Yvie’s currently were (something she liked to attribute to the stress of her A-Levels despite it being a habit she’d formed as a kid).

It was safe to say she didn’t feel relieved.

Especially when the familiar lull of the owner’s voice boomed behind her. How perfectly convenient.

“Yvie!”

Normally Yvie would be relieved to realise he’d actually gotten her name right but her mind was full of other thoughts - supermodel shaped thoughts with blue eyes that were probably going to get her murdered.

At least she’d taken the rubber gloves off before she met her untimely end, she thought to herself, pulling the biggest ‘I’m sorry, I should be more attentive’ smile she could muster as she turned to face her boss.

“I see you’ve met my daughter!” He motioned to the girl.

His daughter, of course.

“Yes,” Yvie stammered, her cheeks red at the mistake she’d made.

The girl, her boss’ daughter, instead seemed nothing but amused.

“Scarlet’s here to help with our marketing; gotta make sure that personal statement is in tip-top shape ready for applications!”

Yvie felt his words crawl under her skin, the itch of casual nepotism. Casual nepotism that would probably land people like Yvie without a Uni offer. She never liked to think of herself as bitter when these situations arose, but this time she couldn’t deny that she was at least a little tart. After all, Yvie was pretty adamant that any Russell Group would favour the privately educated white girl who had marketing experience with a local business over the one who cleaned the toddler’s sick from the ball pit.

It really was as simple as that.

Yvie didn’t know if Scarlet failed to sense her discomfort or simply ignored it anyway as she moved over and held out her hand.

Yvie couldn’t remember the last time she had actually shaken someone’s hand but obliged nonetheless. Scarlet’s eyes narrowed slightly when Yvie met them, her face concentrated like she was about to be quizzed on Yvie’s appearance. Realising she hadn’t blinked since their hands met, Yvie pulled away quickly, the brightness of the centre snapping back into focus around her.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then.” Scarlet took an extra big swig of the bottle before tossing it in the bin and leaving the cafe with her Dad.

And she wasn’t wrong. Indeed, Yvie found herself “seeing Scarlet around” on every single shift she was on the rota for. For an entire three weeks. Without fail.

She was starting to think the phrase, ‘bane of my life’ was an understatement for how she felt about the girl.

It’d started small, Yvie finding herself rolling her eyes whenever Scarlet came into the cafe for a drink. But soon Yvie started to believe that Scarlet didn’t just live in a different part of town but in a whole other fantasy that the rest of the staff were foreign to, parading past the trampolines once every hour as if the carpet were the runway at Paris Fashion Week.

“Do you think someone needs to tell her she’s not actually a real princess?” Yvie spoke into the walkie talkie, exchanging glances between Scarlet and her friend.

“Leave her be! She’s just playing with the kids, you witch,” Jaida responded from the opposite end of the park. “Stop being so cynical.”

Yvie was grateful for her work friends. Although she loved Nina and Brooke with every piece of her often cold, dead heart, it was nice to have found girls more like her at work. Girls who understood how it felt when her school told her she wasn’t allowed any “extreme” hairstyles and she had to take out her braids. Girls who also got told they were too confident, sometimes arrogant when all they were doing was being proud of themselves. Girls a little bit older and wiser (not that she’d ever admitted that she found them wise) who helped her love her skin just that little bit more than she already did.

“Yeah but she’s probably getting paid double what we are to swan about like that!”

Yvie raised her hands in the air to Jaida but didn’t get a chance to hear her response, turning the volume down to zero when she saw Scarlet making her way towards her.

“Hey, doll.” Scarlet plonked a notebook down on the counter in front of Yvie, a big grin of optimism filling the lower half of her face.

Her hair was down that day, soft ginger curls falling in front of her chest. Yvie had a sudden urge to push a strand back and tuck it behind her ear.

Why did the most annoying girl on the planet have such flawless bone structure? It simply wasn’t fair.

“Hello,” Yvie responded rather formally, reaching to grab Scarlet’s usual order. The faster she did so, the faster she walked away - so Yvie may or may not have been keeping a couple of Coke Zeros in the special fridge under the counter that was saved only for open milk bottles, just so she could serve Scarlet with the utmost efficiency.

A part of her just wished she would serve herself again.

“Oh no.” She shook her head, reaching out to touch Yvie’s arm and stop her. Yvie could hardly feel her hand through the thick hoodie, yet her heart still decided it wanted to start sprinting in the middle of the leisurely stroll it was taking before Scarlet had come over. Maybe she had to add the human anatomy to the list of things she’d decided she hated that week, right underneath her new English teacher and egg mayonnaise sandwiches. Her stupid, fat heart.

“I’m here for your interview!”

“Interview?” Yvie raised a brow and chuckled to herself. She wondered if Scarlet had ever actually had to be interviewed for anything in her life nevermind conduct one.

“For Instagram! I’m posting little profiles of all the staff, a little get to know me! It’ll help the youngsters really see what a family we are here!”

Yet another thing Yvie hated was how Scarlet always managed to talk like an edgy teenager and a middle-aged woman at the same time, figuring that was the first and last time she’d hear an eighteen-year-old refer to kids as “youngsters”. Or at least she said she hated it in one of the many Scarlet-included rants she’d had to Heidi the weekend before; she may have actually loved it. The two feelings were often blurred in Yvie’s brain, hard to tell one from the other in her web of brutal honesty and blunt opinions. She was ninety-nine per cent sure she hated it.

“I’ll get someone to cover your station and we can go natter in the staff room.” Scarlet took her lack of words as acceptance and turned on the spot.

Maybe Yvie was only eighty per cent sure.

Yvie had never seen Scarlet in the staff room before, watching most days as the girl took her snacks outside where she ate alone in her car. So it was strange to be cramped on the small sofa with her, both of them staring at the mirror in front rather than at each other. The smell of a ready-made curry that had been left in the microwave for too long that day was lingering warm in the air. Yvie took a deep breath and held it, scared that if she released it her body would touch Scarlet’s just that inch too much and then the entire world around them would explode around them, kind of like the curry.

“So, what’s your favourite snack from the cafe?” Scarlet held a fountain pen in her hand, ready to write. Yvie didn’t need to look at the notepad to know her handwriting was beautiful, a piece of art next to her own illegible scrawls.

“I don’t buy food here,” Yvie responded nonchalantly.

Scarlet popped the end of the pen in her mouth for a moment then let it rest back at the paper.

“You’ve never eaten anything here?” Scarlet questioned, clearly dissatisfied with Yvie’s answer.

“Nope. It’s far too expensive. I just buy my lunch at the off-license before I get the bus.”

“You know what I want you to say!” Scarlet whined. Yvie thought she would do great as a soap actress if the whole marketing thing never worked out for her. She had that dramatic flare mastered down to a tee. And the charming voice to match.

“I’m being honest.” Yvie half-chuckled. “I’m not a liar.”

“Well, I’m just gonna write cheesy nachos then!” Scarlet was trying her hardest to act serious but Yvie just about caught the quiver of her lip.

She wondered if Scarlet somehow knew about her love for cheesy nachos or if it was simply a wild coincidence, either way, she carried on to battle through the questions with Scarlet, praying that there weren’t many to go.

“Which party room is your favourite?” Scarlet still hadn’t lost her enthusiasm, despite having to write down three sarcastic answers as if they were genuine and completely make up new answers for another two so far.

“The volcano room. Normally older kids hire that out and they don’t make as much of a mess as the toddlers in the mermaid or the pirate one.”

Scarlet didn’t even bother to respond to that one, simply shaking her head at Yvie’s response.

“If you don’t like my honesty…” Yvie started, desperate to get back to the comfort of the park where she could swap spots with Jaida for an hour and bask in the comfort of the ball pit.

“I actually find it quite refreshing.” Scarlet gave an all-knowing smile.

Sometimes Yvie got scared that the girl was part-wizard and could see inside of her soul. After all, she knew which school Scarlet attended and she wouldn’t be shocked one bit if it was revealed to be some modern-day incarnation of Hogwarts (then again Yvie did kind of think that about any school with a tuition fee or Latin slogan, so she didn’t know how strongly her argument would stand).

“That’s weird,” she blurted back, unable to think of something quick and witty to say. Where was Brooke with her encyclopedia of shady comebacks when she needed her? Tempted to text her some form of a rant about the interview/ambush she decided against it, knowing Brooke had planned to spend the day with her new “almost-girlfriend” that she had picked up from the literal curb earlier that month.

“You’re weird.” Scarlet stood up, giving Yvie that smile yet again. Yvie knew it so well now that she should have been able to draw it by memory only she knew it would never be captured just right. Not even with all the pencils and canvases and colours that the rainbow had to offer.

She didn’t even try to come up with a comeback to that one.

“Now for the photoshoot!” Scarlet grinned, opening the door for the pair of them.

“Photoshoot?” Yvie’s head whipped around and fired red laser-beams at the girl from her eyes. There had been absolutely no mention of a photoshoot.

“Follow me, my muse.”

***

“Are you doing homework?” Scarlet craned her neck, making out Yvie’s hunched over figure behind the big coffee machine.

“Sorry.” Yvie stood up straight and made her way to the front of the counter, her brown eyes a little droopy compared to normal. Scarlet knew Yvie always played the ‘I hate my life and don’t want to be here’ game at work regularly, but this time was different.

If she were anyone else in the world Scarlet would have pulled her into a great big cuddle. But she wasn’t. She was Yvie. And Yvie hated her.

Most of the time Scarlet didn’t mind that Yvie hated her, she found it quite amusing winding her up and seeing her face scrunch up in frustration. She knew that her confidence didn’t always rub well with people but she’d always told herself that anyone who didn’t want to live in that world with her was simply missing out. Only sometimes she wished things were a bit different at the centre.

She guessed it was one of those days.

“No need to say sorry to me, I’m not paying you!” Scarlet made her way around the back of the cafe and entered. This was something she’d withheld from doing whenever Yvie was stationed there, after their first Coke Zero incident (which she, for the record, actually found quite funny), but the urge simply pulled her and when the urge took control, Scarlet’s will power was nowhere to be seen.

“Is this History?” Scarlet held the papers close to her face. She’d never suited her glasses and had made the executive decision not to wear them around the centre. This was probably some sort of safety hazard considering the fact there were kids jumping around left, right and centre that she was supposed to be constantly observing, but she simply pretended this thought had never even crossed her little air-head brain. Scarlet knew that it never hurt to look good. After all, you never know who could be sneaking glances at you through the gaps in the slush machines.

Scarlet knew exactly who was sneaking glances at her through the gaps in the slush machines. The constant squinting was worth it.

“I really am sorry. I’ve just been really busy and I’m trying to get all my references for Uni but-” Yvie started but stopped to serve a customer. Scarlet heard her voice waver slightly when she asked if she wanted a medium or large. It broke her heart into a thousand little pieces.

“Is it due soon?” Scarlet flicked through the questions. “I did this last term. My file is in my boot if you want me to get some notes out?”

“I don’t need your help.” Yvie took the papers from out of her hands and placed them back on the counter.

Scarlet knew that behind her constantly on-guard exterior there was a girl who just wanted to relax for a second and have fun. She caught her sometimes. Like the time Heidi queued the entirety of the Hercules soundtrack on their iPod and Yvie complained over the walkie talkie yet Scarlet saw her dancing to the songs in the back of the cafe when she thought no one could see (she may or may not have added I Won’t Say I’m In Love to her playlist that night). Or when Jaida fell into the big airbag and shouted at everyone to look away and Yvie released one of her big hearty laughs that managed to surprise Scarlet every time she heard it. She’d always try to catch Yvie’s face when the girls played their own version of Russian roulette with the bottles of cleaning spray that they thought no one else knew about, closing their eyes and spinning the nozzles then stopping to spray - Yvie dying with laughter every time the liquid spat on her jumper.

“If you’re stressed, I can help. You’re applying to somewhere really good aren’t you?”

“You don’t know everything, Scarlet. I told you already that I don’t need your help, I don’t need your special private school notes or whatever it is you pay to get taught.”

It stung. Those weren’t Scarlet’s intentions at all. But she knew how they must have come across.

“That’s okay.” She grabbed some cans of pop from the back and started to stack the fridge. “Just letting you know that the staff room is really dirty and someone needs to clean it.”

“What?” Yvie turned to face her. “Pri cleaned it yesterday.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to clean it again.” Scarlet made a point of looking at the camera in the corner that she knew her dad would glance at from his office every half an hour. “I’ll watch the cafe while you do it. And take those papers with you.”

“Do you even know how to make a coffee?” Yvie caught on, grabbing her notes and a roll of cloth for show.

“Oh my god. Yes, I go to private school but I’m not Paris Hilton! I can watch the cafe for half an hour.”

“Sorry.” Yvie smiled as she left. “And thank you. Really, thank you.”

And Scarlet felt that thank you deep in her bones, one she’d keep saved somewhere to replay on a day when she felt lonely. Only she began to think that Yvie should’ve taken the thank you back when she realised that she should have absolutely not been trusted to watch the cafe for half an hour.

Scarlet knew she wasn’t the best “employee” they had, spending most of her days taking photos, making social media posts and chatting with the little ones when they were done playing. But she didn’t know how quite bad she was until she had burned two toasties, overcharged at least five customers and accidentally poured one woman’s change into her cup of tea instead of her hand.

Maybe she should stick to Instagram.

She tried her hardest to help, cleaning the toastie machine as best as she could before Yvie returned but she knew that she had messed things up, creating more jobs on top of the ones Yvie already had to do when closing the cafe.

“Are you nearly done?” Scarlet heard her Dad ask Yvie later on as he prepared to lock up for the night.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to cash up the till. There are a few discrepancies I need to try and fix.” Yvie didn’t even look up from the tablet, punching numbers into the digital counter with frustration.

“I’ve got my car.” Scarlet blurted before she knew what she was saying. “I’ll help Yvie and lock up here when she’s done. Get yourself away, Dad.”

Scarlet looked at her phone, full of notifications from the girls’ chat: Naomi telling everyone what booze she was going to bring, Plastique asking what they were all wearing, Pearl waking up from the longest of naps to tell everyone she’d be an hour late. She didn’t read them all properly, sending a quick message before popping her phone back in her pocket:

‘I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait on me xx’

It was the least she could have done.

They were silent for a while, the two of them all alone in the big airy building, the main lights switched off with only the small ones at the top of the cafe kiosk to help them see.

Scarlet did her best to help, double-checking Yvie had counted the piles of coins properly whilst she fiddled around the tablet. She figured that maybe silence was better for them, she couldn’t annoy Yvie with her dramatic exclamations and Yvie wouldn’t bombard her with unsought “honest opinions”.

Until that silence was broken with a bang, echoing through the darkness and causing Scarlet’s entire body to leap out of her skin.

Yvie didn’t even quiver.

“What the fuck was that?” She asked Scarlet, her thick eyebrows raised as she peered towards the soft play.

“That doesn’t normally happen?” Images of axe-wielding lunatics stowed away inside the slides flashed through Scarlet’s mind.

“Funnily enough, it doesn’t,” Yvie responded, still as sarcastic as ever in times of panic. “Put your phone light on.”

Scarlet didn’t really want to go and inspect the noise but she also didn’t want to wait in the cafe alone. She knew she was the perfect damsel in distress, axe murders would love her! Trying her best not to be a baby, she followed by Yvie’s side with her phone light guiding their path.

“What if there’s a bomb?” Scarlet placed a hand on her chest and felt Yvie stop next to her. “One of those ones with a remote control that detonates it!”

“You think someone planted a bomb in our play area? And waited to detonate it when no one was around other than me and you?” Scarlet knew Yvie was rolling her eyes as she spoke despite not being able to see her. “I honestly don’t understand how your brain works sometimes.”

“You love me really,” Scarlet responded without thought as they turned another corner. It was an automatic response she often used to her friends when they made fun of her, it felt weird saying it to Yvie. With anyone else, she would have brushed it off, but with Yvie it was different.

And then Yvie gasped.

Before Scarlet knew it her hand was in the other girl’s. It was automatic. She got a shock and Yvie was there. A patch of her hand turned cool where Yvie’s ring pressed against it.

“What was it?” She asked a second later, her brain too caught up with why her hand was gripping tightly onto Yvie’s hand and why Yvie hadn’t pushed her off to actually know what Yvie had reacted to.

“Nothing.” The hearty laugh came back. It was almost comforting in the darkness. “Just wanted to see how you reacted.”

‘Well there you go,’ Scarlet thought to herself as she looked down to their hands, not quite brave enough to say it out loud.

And then Yvie started to laugh, a noise Scarlet would never ever get used to.

“There’s your bomb.” Her hand slipped out of Scarlet’s and pointed in front of them, the remnants of a big silver helium balloon on the floor. “Good job I was here to protect you from that.”

Before she knew it they were back at the till, fixing each of Scarlet’s mistakes and counting out their float for the next day. They worked relatively well together, only managing to butt heads once more when Scarlet suggested they write out a whole new balance sheet instead of scribbling out a mistake and writing the new number next to it as Yvie wanted. She let it go in the end, her phone vibrating in her pocket with texts from the girls a constant reminder that she had a little red dress with her name on it waiting at home.

“Guess I’ll see you later,” Yvie murmured as they left the building, pacing down the road as Scarlet fumbled with the keys. She was a racehorse in the rain, taking her steps twice as fast as the average human as if the building was on fire.

“Where are you going?” Scarlet had to shout after her, half expecting Yvie to ignore her and keep walking anyway.

“Home?” She stopped up the road for a second and turned around. “Now if you don’t mind I have a bus I’m about to miss.”

About to insist she got in the car, Yvie was already far in the distance, slipping out of Scarlet’s vision in the rain by the time the doors were fully locked. Maybe wearing her glasses would have been useful after all.

Cringing as the puddles splashed up her legs, Scarlet ran to her car as fast as she could, throwing her phone onto the passenger seat and taking off down the road. Thankfully it didn’t take her long to catch Yvie, her dark hair poking out through her hoodie and already scraggly with rain.

“Hey!” She pulled up into the bus stop. “Get in, I’ll take you home.”

“What are you a stalker?” Yvie raised her arms in the air. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“The bus will be here any minute.”

Scarlet knew she should have just given in and turned around but she felt the guilt for their late departure weighing on her shoulders.

“Look Yvie-” Scarlet started but was cut off by a loud beeping behind her, just making out an angry bus driver in her rearview mirror.

“Move or it’ll drive past!” Yvie cried at her, the usual monotone of her voice rising in pitch.

“Sorry, what was that?” Scarlet attempted some humour, grinning from ear to ear as the bus pulled away. “Oops! Guess you’ll just have to have a nice warm lift instead of getting the bus with a load of drunkards.”

Yvie didn’t speak at first, simply pulling the car door open and plonking herself down, arms folded like a huffy toddler. But as Scarlet began to follow the directions she gave it was almost as if the other girl couldn’t help herself from falling back into their usual rapport of snide remarks and winding each other up.

“So do you always kidnap people in your Fiat 500 or is this something new for you?”

If this were any other member of staff, Scarlet knew she’d call them ungrateful but it was almost like her brain had learned a new language with Yvie, acknowledging and adapting to the different way she showed her emotions.

“You’re welcome.” Scarlet turned the heating up a notch, hearing the chatter of Yvie’s teeth between words. “And this isn’t even a Fiat 500.”

“Apologies,” Yvie responded. She was the difference between rudeness and bluntness that Scarlet figured many people couldn’t see, always honest and unbashful but never actually impolite.

Scarlet’s phone rang three times on their way to Yvie’s house and she didn’t even try to answer.

“Thanks for the lift,” Yvie whispered as Scarlet pulled up to the curb, the lights all turned off in the semi-detached next to them. “Even if you did leave me no other choice.”

Scarlet released a sigh and smiled at the return of the girl’s cynical side.

“There’s the Yvie, I know. Thought I’d lost you, being nice to me for a second!”

“Yeah well, you caught me on an off day.” She gathered her things and opened the door. “Don’t go telling anyone I went soft on you, I have a reputation to uphold.”

And she was up the path before Scarlet could think of a response, leaving her a baffling mess of feelings who couldn’t help but hear a certain laugh bouncing around inside the car even when she turned the music up loud and tried to distract herself from Yvie.

A distraction technique she had to use after every shift for a month.

Scarlet had never planned for the lifts to become part of her routine, it just sort of happened. She told herself that she wouldn’t have let one of the girls from school or her younger sister ever wait in the rain for the bus so it was common sense not to let Yvie do that either. After a little while of Scarlet ranting about how it was safer and faster for Yvie to go home with her instead of catching the bus every time they left work together, Yvie stopped trying to argue and simply started hopping in the passenger seat. Of course, she did this in the most classic of Yvie fashions and told Scarlet she was only agreeing so she didn’t have to listen to her whiney speeches about the dangers of the dark every night but it made Scarlet feel better still. Even if she did receive an average of three sarcastic responses to her comments each time.

Slowly but surely, the eggshell around Yvie began to peel away. Scarlet discovered through blunt replies Yvie loved learning about international relations and global conflict, that she wanted to go to Uni to study them despite the high offer and the money that went with the dream. Despite the fact that only one per cent of the campus she wanted to be a part of was black. Ignoring that her teacher had told her to play things safer.

Yvie was real and passionate and thriving and everything Scarlet admired.

Yes, she was still the same sarcastic self she always was behind the cafe counter but she was even more than that underneath the fluorescent lights in Scarlet’s car. A small chunk of the divide between them had been left at the bus stop in the rain while they basked in the warm air shooting out of the vents.

Scarlet was hesitant to call Yvie a friend, they didn’t really chat and gossip - as she did with Plastique, Naomi and Pearl - and when they did at least half of their conversation was made up of insults but Scarlet liked it. Yvie was a refreshing change from the girls she was surrounded with every day at school and Scarlet wanted to drink that in as much as she could. Even if Yvie did still hate her.

In fact, Yvie had started to use those exact words as a regular comeback to Scarlet’s dramatics, rolling her eyes to match.

“Would you hate me if we stop for food before I drop you off?” Scarlet asked one night. “I’m honestly starved.”

“I already hate you, don’t think food would change that.” Yvie laughed.

That fucking laugh.

Scarlet hoped she only-half meant it. But she never really knew for sure.

Making their way into the food chain, Scarlet’s mind was too consumed with the thought of what she was going to order to even realise that her friends were there until she heard her name.

“Hey, sweets.” Naomi smiled from the table. “I thought you were at your Dad’s work?”

“We were just on the way home and I got hungry.” Scarlet motioned to Yvie, stood almost a step behind her.

“Who’s this?” Plastique asked, raising a perfectly shaped brow.

Opening her mouth to speak, Scarlet’s brain went blank for a second. She obviously wanted to tell the girls about Yvie but never knew what to say, she didn’t even know what they were herself nevermind having to explain it to them.

How do you say, ‘this girl works for my Dad and I drive her home every night whilst we listen to Lady Gaga in almost complete silence except for when she insults me because she maybe hates me or I try to get on her nerves because I maybe fancy her,’ in a clear and concise way?

“Erm, this is…” She tried to start but was stopped by Yvie herself.

“I’ll go order our food.”

“Oh,” Scarlet turned, pulling her purse from her pocket. “Here let me pay.”

“It’s fine.” Yvie turned her back. “I guess I owe you a lot of petrol money anyway.”

Her words struck Scarlet a little different. They lacked any emotion, spoken from dead eyes and a stern face. She relived those words a lot in the next few weeks, popping into her head again at the most random of times. For they were the last words she heard Yvie speak for a while, ignoring any effort Scarlet made to chat, even when she gave her perfect opportunities to poke fun at her like bringing up her house team at school or her sister’s upcoming dance recital (Scarlet knew how much humour Yvie found in the fact that their names were just stupid ways of saying red and yellow and normally laughed whenever Scarlet even mentioned Lemon).

“I won’t be able to give you a lift home next week.” She’d told her as they pulled up to Yvie’s house, ready to explain that Pearl had bought them tickets to a theatre show and it started too early. But Yvie hopped out of the car before she could even finish, leaving Scarlet with even more confusion about how the girl felt.

Because Yvie was still Yvie after all. And Scarlet realised after that particular journey that it would take a lot more than a few rides home to get them anywhere close to being classed as friends.

An observation in Scarlet’s mind that only grew stronger over the weeks following, especially when she decided it would be okay to join everyone on one of their regular staff nights out. A decision tinged with regret as soon as she entered the pub.

“Dress was a big mistake!!!! Huge !!! xx” Scarlet texted her teenage sister aggressively from under the table as if it would somehow fix her situation.

Excited to hit the town with everyone from the centre, she’d spent all day getting prepped and ready, letting Lemon paint her nails as they pondered over what she should wear. Eventually, they’d settled on a shimmery gold Oh Polly number she’d worn to Naomi’s birthday the year prior, her jewellery matching just right.

Only that didn’t matter once she arrived, riving her necklace from her throat as soon as she saw the rest of the staff. With all the other girls in bodysuits and trainers, she was the definition of overdressed and out of place.

It started small at first, hearing someone whisper something including the word “Daddy” as she made her way to the tables, one of the girls from the front desk asking her if she was gonna be getting the rounds in all night.

“Scarlet, come sit here!” Heidi had waved at her over, allowing for a second to catch her breath.

Only her nerves didn’t go away once she joined their booth. In fact, they only grew larger when she caught Yvie’s gaze, her eyes wide at Scarlet in a face she’d never quite seen the girl make before. She’d fought hard to ignore it, but her eyes couldn’t stop from glancing back every few seconds, wondering what it was exactly that Yvie’s face was speaking into the universe around them.

Knowing Yvie it was probably something along the lines of ‘What the fuck is the primadonna doing here in that dress’ but she didn’t know for sure, trying her best to join in their conversation and catch the familiar side of the other girl she’d caught glimpses of over the past few months.

“So, whose ID are you using?” Scarlet asked her in an effort to make conversation, having learnt from the walkie talkies that Heidi was usually Yvie’s go-to girl when she went out with her other friends, despite them looking nothing alike.

“Here.” Yvie slid it across the table for Scarlet to examine, the other girls in the booth taking a look too.

“I know her!” Jaida exclaimed. “Chile, I did her prom makeup a couple years ago.”

“Perks of Brooke’s new girlfriend. I now have black friends that aren’t you guys I can borrow ID from. Not the best though, it’s a good job they never actually look properly.”

“Wait.” Priyanka raised two hands in the air. “You’re telling me that your gal Brooke has an official girlfriend? I thought they were just fucking about, damn!”

“Oh, not this again!” Heidi joined in. “We get it, Pri. You got together once and she didn’t remember your name. Move on!”

Scarlet checked her phone to see if her sister had replied but saw nothing, resorting to scrolling through her own photo album and reshuffling her apps so she didn’t look left out. Listening to the girls continue to gossip about people she didn’t know, Scarlet began to question the friendships she’d made at the centre, little voices in her head telling her that none of them would ever like her enough to open up and gossip with her as they did with one another.

For as long as she remembered she had always been confident, never caring what others thought of her. But as she started to gulp her drink down faster than normal, Scarlet felt that confidence slip away more and more. She was so far out of her comfort zone she couldn’t have made it back on a giant jet plane at full speed. And Yvie’s big brown eyes taking stolen glances at her didn’t make any of it better.

“It’s okay, Pri.” Jaida’s voice pulled Scarlet back into their conversation. “At least Yvie remembered your name when you two got with each other!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Yvie slammed her glass onto the table at the same time Scarlet spat some of her drink back into her own.

What an elegant lady she was.

She’d always just assumed that Yvie was into girls too. There was just something about hearing it for real that made Scarlet’s central nervous system stop working for a second, starting again with a scare.

“That was one time,” Priyanka cried from the opposite side of the booth, thankfully oblivious of Scarlet’s reaction.

Only someone wasn’t as oblivious. Someone was looking right at her and sending every thought, every feeling, every fear inside of Scarlet into overdrive.

***

Yvie wasn’t a stranger to awful dancing. After all, she had been friends with Nina for the majority of life, the girl whose feet were built of hard oak and desperation.

But this was something different altogether.

Watching Scarlet across the dance floor, the phrase ‘Bambi on ice’ brought a whole new meaning to Yvie. If she wasn’t so mad at her she’d go over herself, give the girl a twirl and watch as she missed every beat like she had no cares in the world. Only that wasn’t the case, because mad Yvie certainly was.

Yvie didn’t know why she felt so hurt, it wasn’t like they were friends? It wasn’t like she even liked Scarlet? But something about having to stand there while she scrambled for an explanation of who she was to her privately educated, life’s not fair, acrylic nailed girl gang made Yvie’s blood boil. And she’d never admitted it but she may have even shed a tear or two once her blinds were shut and she couldn’t see the not-Fiat 500 and the annoying girl who drove it.

To think she’d started to believe that she was only fifty-five per cent sure of her hatred.

“Staring much?” She could hear the raise of Heidi’s brow in her words as she spoke to her ear, the loud bass around them not heavy enough to drown out the accusation in her friend’s voice.

Yvie couldn’t even deny it, for she’d been staring at Scarlet from the moment she’d walked into the pub earlier. Of course, she’d stalked the girl’s Instagram enough to know what Scarlet looked like dressed up, rolling her eyes at the dumb self-indulgent captions that were always attached to her selfies. Only it was different in person, a mix of gold and warmth and beauty and envy that made Yvie want to snap a pencil in half (she settled for a paper straw instead which certainly did not give the same level of relief). She’d watched as Scarlet ripped a necklace from her neck earlier and longed to put it back on for her, taking her time to hook it on the right loop so that it would hang perfectly above her collarbone.

She tried to fixate on the memory of Scarlet squealing every time they went over the speed bumps outside of their work to give herself the ick. Only that image had become entwined with one of Scarlet getting out the car one night to help a cat out of the road and Yvie only felt more confused.

“I’m just judging her dancing abilities,” Yvie lied.

She knew it was a lie. Heidi, who once confidently believed that Jaida had found a ghost in the dodgeball cupboard, knew it was a lie. The whole club knew it was a lie just from Yvie’s expression. Did lying count as breaking your streak of tough love and honesty if you wanted to believe you were telling the truth so badly? Is lying even lying if it’s yourself you’re lying to? Yvie didn’t know. All she knew was that red and gold looked so good together it should have been illegal. Only it was herself breaking the law when her eyes met Scarlet’s again, holding for a second before she turned to walk away.

The songs all blurred into one once Scarlet was gone, Yvie’s brain out of focus. That was until she was snapped back by a familiar squark pulling her away from her work friends.

“Hey, Yvie! Or should I say Akeria tonight?” Vanessa grinned, a loved-up Brooke with her arm around the other girl’s waist.

“Thanks again.” Yvie tapped her nose, grateful for Brooke’s new relationship and the new friends that had come with it. “I owe you a drink.”

“So where is she then?” Brooke piped up, straight to the point and not wasting time with any cordial greetings on her best friend.

“Priyanka?” Yvie squinted in confusion for a second, wondering why Brooke wanted to see a girl she had previously hooked up with and usually refused to speak about when all she’d talked about for the past few months was how excited she was every Wednesday night to eat special chicken stew and watch soap operas that she pretended to hate at Vanessa’s house.

“No!” Brooke raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes leaping to Vanessa for a split second. “Ja’mie Private School Girl. I wanna see her in person.”

“Oh.” Yvie’s brain slotted the pieces together. Had she really complained about Scarlet that much?

“Is this the girl you always ragin’ about?” Vanessa joined in.

Okay, maybe she did complain about Scarlet too much.

“I’m not sure where she’s at.” She brushed them off, the memory of Scarlet telling her she couldn’t take her home anymore after seeing her friends tinging Yvie sharply, her face starting to flush. “I’m gonna go to the loo but I’ll get you that drink later?”

“Noted.” Brooke pointed a finger, the sound of their voices carrying as Yvie ran desperately to splash her face with some cold water.

Only she never quite made it to the sink, the sight of an upset red-head stopping her as soon as she entered the toilets.

Yvie went to speak but wasn’t given a chance.

“Go away.” Scarlet’s voice wavered as she knelt down, pulling jackets out from under the couch like they were infested.

“I can’t believe you didn’t pay for the cloakroom.” Yvie joined her on the carpet. “Out of character for you.”

“I said go away.” She turned her head to Yvie, her bloodshot eyes living up to her name.

Yvie felt the sudden urge to scoop Scarlet in her arms and cradle her there till the music stopped and the lights turned off and there was no one left in the building. She felt a need she never knew existed.

“Hey. It’s alright, I can help you…”

But Scarlet had already found her jacket and started racing out of the club as though her life depended on it.

“For fuck sake, Scarlet.” Yvie reached for her arm once they were outside, the cold air penetrating through her bodysuit and making her long for the comfort of her bed at home. “Just talk to me.”

She turned, her face illuminated under the street lamps, full of anger and sadness and perhaps a tinge of pain too.

“Why do you want to talk to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t.” Yvie squeezed her arm slightly and looked her in the eyes to try and show that she meant it. Because sometimes her words failed her and she struggled to sound sincere when in her mind she was, so she had to rely on her actions. All she had at that moment was a gentle squeeze to try and show Scarlet that she meant it. She didn’t hate her. She didn’t know when that had changed or if she’d really hated her in the first place but at that moment she was one-hundred per cent certain, the feeling was nothing like hatred.

Scarlet scoffed and pulled away, tapping her phone furiously with her nails. “You tell me you hate me nearly every day I spend with you.”

Yvie tried to argue back but Scarlet was on a mission, waving her hands in the air when she spoke.

“And if you’re not doing that then you’re bitching about me through the walkie talkies. Or giving me dirty looks. I try my best to pass it off and rise above it Yvie but tonight I just can’t anymore, I just want to live and breathe without you looking at me like I’ve shot Bambi’s mother. Like what did I even do to you?”

‘Everything,’ Yvie thought only it came out as a blunt “nothing” instead. “You’re the one that was embarrassed to be seen with me in public.”

“I wasn’t embarrassed, Yvie. Sorry it took me a minute to try and think of something other than ‘a girl I drive around even though she hates me.’” Scarlet kept taking glances between the road and her phone, not meeting Yvie’s eyes. “Or doesn’t hate me, apparently. And I just had plans after our next shift.”

Without knowing what she was doing, Yvie reached out to grab her hand, slipping her fingers through Scarlet’s and clasping like they had done the day Scarlet was scared by the balloon. Scarlet was right. Maybe she was too fast to jump to conclusions. She was up in the sky leaping on the trampolines at work whilst Scarlet was grounded by the cafe, taking herself to a whole new narrative that didn’t really exist. In other words, she’d fucked it.

“I don’t hate you.” Yvie expected Scarlet to let go. She didn’t.

“Well, you don’t act like it.”

But her hand didn’t leave, Yvie had hope. Not a lot, just a slither like the piece of Scarlet’s hair that stayed in front of her face when she pushed the rest back. But it was still hope, it was still something.

“Please just let me explain.” Yvie tried to make Scarlet understand.

She’d spent years trying to dial and change how she spoke. If the black girl in the class raised her voice then she was angry but if she didn’t put up a fight with her words then nobody would take her seriously. All she wanted was to be honest, but the words were flying around her head and wouldn’t stop to land. And then Scarlet’s Uber started to pull up and they were going even faster. Scarlet turned to look at her and Yvie watched as she opened her mouth for a second but no words came out, her eyes frustrated and begging Yvie to fix things.

She waited for the rejection, for Scarlet to push her away as she moved closer, for her to call Yvie crazy and jump in the car, ready to make her time at work even more of a living hell than she already did. But as her lips met Scarlet’s, it never came.

“Your Uber.” Yvie pulled away slightly, their faces only an inch apart and Scarlet gasping for breath. She could feel Scarlet’s sticky gloss on her own lips but didn’t dare wipe at it, wanting the moment to go on like that for as long as it could.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to riding in the car with someone.” Scarlet took her hand again once the car pulled up, their eyes communicating in their own language that Yvie didn’t have the words to explain.

Yvie pulled her phone out to text the girls and tell them she’d headed home, dropping another one to home with an excuse for staying out, feeling Scarlet on her neck as they clambered into the backseat. They didn’t speak for a short while, Yvie simply placed her arm around Scarlet’s shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she hadn’t spent months terrified of making contact with her.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” Scarlet whispered in her ear, her hand burning hot on Yvie’s thigh.

Suddenly Scarlet’s flair for the dramatics was wiped clean from her mental list of things that irked her, replaced accordingly with the concept of clothing, more specifically jeans. Her jeans, that she regretted spending a lot of money on - wishing she’d settled for the paper-thin pair Nina had told her to get from Primark instead. In fact, she’d have paid more for the thin pair right then. Paid anything for Scarlet’s hand to live there just a little bit longer. Yvie let the back of her head hit the seat, lost in the moment until they pulled up to Scarlet’s house.

“We’ll have to be careful,” Scarlet spoke after unlocking the door. “My sister’s home.”

“Does noise even travel here?” Yvie looked around the foyer only half-joking, stopping to chuckle at a big photo of Scarlet and her sister as kids. “Adorable.”

“If you’re loud enough.” Scarlet raised a brow and motioned for Yvie to follow her upstairs, sending tingles through her body at her words.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be the one who needs to worry about keeping quiet.” Yvie let Scarlet lead her to her room, throwing themselves down on the four-poster almost immediately.

It felt weird finally being in Scarlet’s room after spending so long of interacting at work. She couldn’t say she hadn’t pictured it, often imagining Scarlet painting her toes on top of magazines or picking out her outfit each morning. Too distracted to get a proper look at all the photo frames and trinkets around, Yvie made a mental note to make a joke the next day about how she’d always assumed Scarlet had one of those grey crushed velvet headboards like the girls on Twitter.

It was crazy how something could feel so wrong and so right at the same time. Scarlet’s body pressing into her own, it was so insane yet made complete sense. She felt familiar.

Before she knew it Scarlet’s thumb was rubbing over the fabric of her bodysuit, teasing at her nipple through the lace.

Yvie had never been more grateful for her decision not to wear a bra.

“Are you sure you want this?” Scarlet asked her, pausing in her movement to look Yvie in the eyes and confirm. “We can’t go back.”

Yvie knew what she meant, thinking of all the shifts she’d have to spend with her, pinning Scarlet’s new promotional posters around the park, being watched to make sure she placed them in the exact right spots. She’d be unavoidable. But Yvie didn’t care.

“I’ve wanted this ever since you stole a Coke Zero from the cafe.”

Apparently, that was all Scarlet needed, taking the opportunity to smash her lips against Yvie’s, letting their bodies melt into each other. Again and again and again until Yvie was weak with fatigue and let her head hit the pillow one final time. Her vision blurred, she could just make out Scarlet’s figure among all of the stars as the girl switched off the bedside lamp and crawled into bed beside her. They hadn’t just shaken the earth but the whole solar system too, galaxies swirling around the room and lulling Yvie to sleep.

A sleep she’d have happily basked in forever if she hadn’t woken with a jolt the next morning, the sun beaming through the blinds to cast light on the empty side of the bed next to her.

“Morning,” Scarlet’s spoke from across the room, wearing a pair of glasses that Yvie had never seen before as she looked up from the papers at her desk. Yvie suddenly understood Scarlet’s constant examining gaze - she wasn’t scanning Yvie’s insides for error codes, just a tad bit blind.

Grabbing her phone from the bedside, a groan escaped Yvie’s mouth as she saw the time, of course, Scarlet was awake at nine in the morning after a night out. After what Yvie would estimate to be at least two hours of sex. Kind of intense sex. If it hadn’t been for Scarlet’s pretty face and messy hair then Yvie would have snatched the nearest pillow and thrown it over her head, instead, keeping an eye open to watch her whilst fighting exhaustion.

She wondered how long it would take them to address it. In the past, Yvie had never felt awkward discussing a hookup, giving a compliment or laughing it off as a drunken mishap like she had with Priyanka that time. The thought crossed her mind for a second, thinking she could make a joke about how smashed they were before ringing Brooke to take her home as fast as she could but Yvie decided against it. If Yvie was anything then Yvie was honest. And she knew what happened was not a drunken mistake. At least not on her end, she didn’t know if the same could be said for Scarlet, sat twiddling her pen around in her hand as though Yvie wasn’t lying in her bed and her gold dress wasn’t in a heap on the floor, thrown there in a moment of passion. Looking at it made her laugh, thinking of how fast she’d gone from describing Scarlet’s whining as the human equivalent of a dog whistle wit Jaida, to finding herself turned on by it. Scarlet must have noticed her looking, placing the pen down.

“I think you owe me a new zipper for that.” She pointed to the dress, raising a brow at Yvie.

“Sorry, I’ll take it to get fixed.” Yvie went to step out of bed before realising her own clothes were just as haphazardly spread as Scarlet’s.

“I’m kidding,” Scarlet smiled. “I’ll get you some joggers to borrow.”

“You own tracksuit bottoms?” Yvie fake gasped as Scarlet pulled open a drawer, surprising herself at how quickly they returned to their usual exchanges. There she was making fun of Scarlet for being all posh and dramatic, it was like nothing had changed. Except she was in Scarlet’s bed. Naked. And they’d had sex. Maybe a lot had changed.

“Oh my god, I just got it.” Scarlet pointed a finger to Yvie and let out one of her classic giggles. “That is hilarious.”

“What is?” Yvie pulled the clothes Scarlet had given her on quickly, automatically ready with her defence.

“That face you always pull at me! I honestly thought it was just your expression of pure hatred at my being but it’s not, you were eyeing me up!”

Yvie stifled a laugh at Scarlet’s hysteria, her cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t pull a face at you.”

“You so do. Like this.” Scarlet did her best to impersonate her.

“I don’t do that. And I don’t eye you up either, you’re so annoying.”

“Want me to prove you do?” Scarlet flipped the conversation and caught Yvie off guard.

She hadn’t expected round two to come at all nevermind that fast, but she most certainly wasn’t mad at it.

The same could have also been said for round three, which happened around a week later when Yvie just so happened to take her lunch break at the same time as Scarlet, following her out to her car and letting Scarlet drive a couple of minutes to somewhere more secluded. The sun beamed down through the windscreen and glistened on Scarlet’s pale skin as they moved together rapidly, the pair already becoming familiar with the little easter eggs that made each other tick.

“Ten minutes to spare, wow.” Yvie checked the time on her phone, allowing herself to lie back in as much comfort as she could given that she was in the back of a rather tiny car with a rather tall girl by her side.

“What are we doing?” Scarlet sat up, hitting her head slightly on the roof but not acknowledging it, a trait Yvie had picked up on before having watched Scarlet’s clumsy legs take many tumbles around the centre only for her to keep walking like it hadn’t happened (Yvie always found this funnier than the fall itself, especially that one time it was a running child that sent Scarlet tumbling, utterly priceless).

“Erm, lying in the back of your car trying to remember how to breathe?” Yvie knew it wasn’t the answer she was looking for but gave it nonetheless.

“No. This, us. What is this?”

Yvie wished she knew the answer. At first, she didn’t know how to approach her, bringing the borrowed clothes to work in a carrier bag ready to return, only to be left silent once Scarlet came to the counter to fulfil her caffeine addiction that day. But Scarlet managed to break the ice, making a subtle joke about her lack of regret as she took the bottle from Yvie’s hand. It was bittersweet - Yvie knew there was a clear distinction between having no regrets and wanting to do something again, and she was at least seventy per cent sure she wanted to do it again. Ninety-nine once the opportunity had finally risen again, Scarlet dangling her car keys in front of Yvie like the forbidden fruit of Eden. An apple she couldn’t help but take a bite from, no matter how much it would bite her back later.

So Yvie thought about her answer, she didn’t want to get this one wrong. The natural answer was that they were friends, only Yvie knew they weren’t. They were less than friends, they didn’t chat and gossip like friends and frankly she couldn’t stand Scarlet most of the time, the chatting and gossiping with her actual friends at work usually revolving around that fact. Yet they were also so much more, Yvie’s eyes followed the girl wherever she went like she was being guided home and her heart had just about snapped in two when she saw Scarlet upset.

Maybe it wasn’t Scarlet she hated but instead the way she felt about her. Or the way she didn’t even understand what that feeling was. Perhaps that is what she’d hated all along.

“I don’t know.” Yvie stepped outside to straighten her uniform and move to the passenger seat.

“You don’t know?” Scarlet joined her in the front, slamming her door a tad too hard once her foot was inside. “You always have an answer for everything.”

“Well, do you?” Yvie retaliated.

“I’m the one who asked in the first place!”

As much as she wanted to, Yvie couldn’t deny she had a point there.

“Well whatever it is, I’m glad to see we disagree on it already,” Yvie replied as Scarlet started to drive back to work.

“You can take me on a date sometime if you’d like.” Scarlet let the words jump out of her mouth quickly just before the traffic lights turned green, acting completely casual and nonchalant just like she had after hitting her head as if nothing had happened at all.

“A date?” Yvie’s voice raised an octave higher than it should have.

“You know where two people who kind of fancy each other go and get food? It’s a pretty basic term, I thought you’d know seen as you’re crazy clever and going to the best University in the country.”

Yvie choked on her water and sent it flying down the wrong way, a mess of coughs and splutters next to Scarlet’s pristine self. It wouldn’t have been the worst way to die, at least she’d never feel the embarrassment afterwards and have the dignity of knowing she’d given the girl a good time just before.

“I haven’t gotten in yet.” Yvie’s mind was thrown away from the conversation and back to the impending doom of her University application. Thank god she always had Scarlet to remind her of the massive feat she was trying to achieve.

“You can say no if you want, I don’t care.” Scarlet pulled into the car park, not really caring that her wheels were at a forty-five-degree angle and only just within the lines.

Yvie thought of all the times she had come up with convoluted methods to avoid Scarlet’s presence after their first meeting, of that first day she’d been given a lift home and how much had changed since then. Scarlet was confident and sometimes lived on a different planet to Yvie altogether but that didn’t hide her warmth, her wit or the big smile that came on her face whenever she tried to dance. And as much as she was shocked by her own thoughts, Yvie couldn’t deny that an evening with that warmth, wit and smile was all she really needed to relieve her stress.

“Well, where would you like to go for food then?” Yvie asked her as they entered the building, ready to part ways until the end of the day.

“Sorry, you’ll have to come up with that one on your own.” Scarlet grinned. “And please don’t fuck it up, Yvie.”

[gascon-en-exil]

So I've heard the parley scene in AM is really bad. Can you explain what's wrong with it?

This sounds like a good time to use that handy event gallery feature to transcribe the conversation so we can talk about it. I haven’t done a full line-by-line reading of anything in a very long time.

Incidentally, Hubert is also present in this scene although he has no lines, which is highly unusual for the way this game handles who appears in story cutscenes. I just thought that was worth remarking on.

Dimitri: Professor. Do you think Edelgard will show up?

Byleth: “She will.” or “I doubt it.” Choice leads to...

???: “Well, well. It’s been a long time, Professor. And hello to you too, DImitri.” or “Sorry to disappoint you, Professor.”

This is Byleth’s only line in the scene, and I love how it reinforces that Edelgard is hung up on them even in the route where Byleth matters least. She acknowledges Dimitri, the leader of the army with whom she’s holding a parley, second - and not at all if you doubt her and she gets pouty about it. Also, imagine a Byleth-less AM where it would Dedue at Dimitri’s side instead, and how much better that would have been.

Dimitri: Edelgard. I did not think you would actually accept my request.

Edelgard: Call it a whim. Well then? What did want to talk about?

Call it an OOC whim, because she never so much as suggests any such thing on the other routes even when she’s losing.

Dimitri: I will get straight to the point. Why did you start this war? There had to a way change things in your territory without the need for so many senseless casualties.

Edelgard: It may be hard to believe, but this is the way that leads to the fewest casualties in the end. Don’t you see?

Dimitri: How could I? Countless people have already lost their lives in this conflict.

Edelgard: The longer we took to revolt, the more victims this crooked world would have claimed. I weighed the victims of war against the victims of the world as it is now, and I chose the former. I believe that I have chosen the best path, the only path.

Dimitri: Even after seeing the faces of those who have suffered the ravages of war, you would still force them to throw their lives away for the future? You are obsessively devoted to this war and deaf to the screams of its victims. You cannot change the cycle of the strong dominating the weak with a method like that.

Edelgard: You’re wrong. That very cycle is exactly what I have devoted my life and my power to destroying. If after all of this you believe the weak will still be weak, that is only because they are too used to relying on others instead of on themselves.

This reinforces three concepts central to Edelgard’s character: the ends justify the means, dependence on others makes you weak, and it’s acceptable for her to make life-or-death decisions for an entire continent because she has the power and (allegedly) the understanding to do so.

Dimitri: Yes. Perhaps someone as strong as you are can claim something like that. But you cannot force that belief onto others. People aren’t as strong as you think they are. There are those who cannot live without their faith...and those who cannot go on once they have lost their reason for living. Your path will not be able to save them. It is the path of the strong, and so, it could only benefit the strong.

Dimitri remarks that Edelgard is operating from a place of extreme privilege as emperor, but he also means strength in a different context which he’ll expound upon later. I’ve seen people cherry pick the line about people who can’t live without faith as evidence that Dimitri thinks religion is necessary, but that’s ignoring what he says below.

Edelgard: Heh, so you consider me strong, do you? 

Of course, because Edelgard makes a big point of never showing her emotions to anyone but Byleth and projecting an image of strength in place of them. This is markedly in contrast to Dimitri who allows himself to be publicly vulnerable in ugly and unsettling ways. It’s inverted gender coding twice over.

Edelgard: Even if one clings to their faith, the goddess will never answer them. Countless souls will be lost that way. Living without purpose. And I can be counted as those who have died that way as well. But that’s why I must change this world, on behalf of the silent and weak!

So now she claims to speak for the weak. This implies some interesting things about why Edelgard is an atheist (or as much as one can be in a world where your deity is living inside your teacher), although it falls a bit flat when one considers Dimitri’s Goddess Tower event where he essentially admits to being a deist himself. They’re actually about on the same page there, but this conversation doesn’t indicate it.

Dimitri: And do you intend to become a goddess yourself? Will you steal the power to take action from the broken-hearted masses you claim to defend? The ones who can truly change the way of the world are not the rulers, but the people. Pushing your own sense of justice and your own ideals onto even one other person is nothing more than self-righteousness.

Edelgard: Maybe it is self-righteousness, but it doesn’t matter. Someone has to take action and put a stop to this world’s endless, blood-stained history!

Proto-democracy alert, and I don’t mean from Edelgard. I’m a bit shocked that Edelgard is willing to admit that she’s being self-righteous, but she immediately pivots back into her usual spiel and refusal to compromise her beliefs even the slightest.

Dimitri: Do you not believe in the power of the people to join together and rise up? Humans are weak creatures. But they are also creatures who help each other, support each other, and together, find the right path. I have learned that humans are capable of all that from the professor...and from everyone in my life.

I hate that Dimitri singles out Byleth here and not, you know, any of the numerous other people who’ve been at his side supporting and loving him for much longer and with more than just irrelevant dialogue options and vacant smiles. Nevertheless, Dimitri understands the value of community on account of his experiences and his own development. That’s some solid, thematically cohesive writing there. See what the other leaders miss out on by never changing during their stories...and no, having the hots for the self-insert does not constitute changing.

Edelgard: I doubt a highborn person like yourself could know how the poor feel or what motivates them. This is nonsense. Though, I’m finally starting to understand how you feel. But that makes it even clearer to me that we can never fully understand each other.

Dimitri: I feel the same. I finally understand...what you believe is right.

An obnoxious moment of the pot calling the kettle black that also ignores that Dimitri spent most of the timeskip homeless, spending time in the slums of Fòdlan, being hailed as a (frightening) hero of the common people. Dimitri doesn’t argue the point though; he sees that Edelgard is set in her (demonstrably incorrect) beliefs and that further discussion is useless. Do note who shuts down the conversation first though, after sidestepping Dimitri’s point about the value of supporting each other.

Edelgard: Good-bye, DImitri.

Dimitri: Wait, Edelgard. There is something I must give you.  This is for you. Use it to cut a path to the future you wish for. And I will rise up to meet you there...El.

Edelgard: ...

I left this bit in for the transition as well as to undercut the irony of what Edelgard ultimately does with this dagger. The future she wishes for is to stand on her own - even if it means killing an old friend and dying herself.

After this the scene cuts to a flashback of Dimitri giving Edelgard the dagger before she left the Kingdom, followed by Edelgard admitting that she had forgotten that memory and the two of them reflecting on it briefly before parting. I’ve cut this part as it’s not relevant to the parley.

Now that I’ve written it all out I have to say that the scripting of this scene is not inherently terrible. It works if you assume that Edelgard is metaphorically sticking her fingers in her ears through the whole thing and spouting her rehearsed, blatantly flawed rhetoric about human nature and assumptions about Dimitri’s character that prove that she doesn’t know him very well at all and doesn’t care to. I’ve read that several lines are markedly different in Japanese, although not necessarily better? Either way this is a scene of two people talking past each other repeatedly that accomplishes nothing except to set the stage for the final cutscene, underscoring that AM was never really about politics so much as people at its narrative center.

[stabletwooriginals]

CHAPTER TWO: Equestrian Wasteland

Panic attack! A surprising, yet well described reaction LittlePip has to the vastness of the great outdoors. The little ghost story about the outside just being a black void also comes back one final time.

The prospect of finding Velvet shrinking dramatically phases LittlePip surprisingly little. Instead she just kinda starts looking for her by seeking a high vantage point. This pro-active attitude and little time spent on feeling sorry for herself is endearing, as well. I think this is gonna change at certain points, considering all the stuff that is going to happen to her. But maybe I'm confusing my memories with Project Horizons, in which the main character spends quite some time feeling sorry for herself. (And considering what happens to her, I don't really blame her.)

I love the light emitted by a terminal described as "the soft green glow of a poisoned apple". Horse gonna think of apples.

LittlePip remarks on the sturdiness of the StableTec terminals, looking new while everything around it decayed in some form. I think this actually has a (horrifying) explanation in lore. But we won't get to it for a while.

On it, we get a message from Velvet asking, or rather pleading the reader not  to look for her. LittlePip's enthusiasm is curbed by it, but not her plan. While she is considering her options she gets distracted by a light in the distance. So, uh, the issue that Velvet doesn’t want to return just gets shoved to the back row until it has to be confronted again at a later date. Seeing as finding Velvet is the bigger issue anyway, that's not very hard to accept for now, at least.

Oh and there is a encrypted message on there too. We don't learn anything useful about it and LittlePip downloads it for the heck of it. In my opinion, a weird place to stick this beat, as it draws attention only to get pushed aside immediately again and the payoff it has at the end of the chapter brings a minor revelation at best. This information could have been given later as well.

Now I was forced to admit how foalish that vision was.

 Reading FoE made me realize they say "foalish" in the original show too. At least in season 1, which is all that existed during the time FoE was being written. Isn't that wild? Discord gets a mention very late into the story, otherwise all the world building is propped up on lore that existed *before* the fandom really reached it's peak!

And LittlePip runs straight into a slaver trap. I appreciate the effort to have her not recognize the shotgun and how the details of the situation slowly unravel until the dreaded clarification "They're slavers, you idiot". Makes it relatable that she fell for their trap.

Thinking about the slavers LittlePip mentions her "repertoire of colorful metaphors". Interesting to tell us about it instead of letting us see for ourselves later. Because, well, she undoubtedly does have quite the repertoire of colorful metaphors.

I absolutely love that the description of the music the Spritebots makes captures the song Pinkie Pie uses in the episode "Swarm of the Century" to remove the Parasprites perfectly. Even the first time reading I had that song in my head at this point.

LittlePip being a swift learner is yet another endearing trait on display when she sees one of the slavers fire his shotgun at the Spritebot and notices how the weapon works. Let's hope there is some kind of fight soon where she gets to implement this newfound knowledge!

I wonder why the raiders decided to attack the slavers. The slavers clearly didn't anticipate this and I doubt LittlePip or Montgomery Jack (the other slave) are such evidently high-tier cargo worth stealing. But hey, I got my wish for a fight and establishing LittlePip's talent with a bobby pin and screwdriver to unlock her shackles is already paying off too.

This kinda leads into a larger question of what raiders are and what they want, but I'll save that for later. Once we met a lot more of them.

Well, seeing how the raiders are beating them up, that probably wasn't why they started the fight either. Also, like with the slavers before, they throw in a threat of sexual violence against LittlePip that feels kinda cheap to me. Like, yo, enslaving her and/or threatening to kill her apparently isn't enough to paint them as bad guys? I understand that this is mainly a taste thing, as some people don't mind a story that is painted this dark this casually. I just feel like the story would not lose it's tone without them, while being more upsetting than it needs to be with them. At least here, in Chapter Two.

LittlePip’s first fight is awesome. It's scary, it's fast and has a few surprises. The biggest one probably being that the question of killing others hasn't come up yet. If we are familiar with Fallout (at least 3 and onward) this shouldn't be a hard question to answer, but LittlePip tries to avoid it here.

Montgomery, like a more experienced Fallout player however, finishes the raider off and starts to loot them. Showing LittlePip the ropes of the game. How nice of him. Then he robs her. That's not how I play Fallout, but the games pride themselves with their choice of options, I guess.

That he instructs LittlePip to check the bodies, she therefore has to puke into the river because of it and sees Montgomery's shotgun reflected in the water behind her head is just great dramatic storytelling. I can just see the movie version of this in my minds eye.

However, LittlePip actually manages to get out of this with a little luck in finding the raiders shotgun next to her (which is a combat shotgun, unlike the regular one the slaver had and Montgomery is holding now) and by packing everything she learned about the two weapons into a convincing argument. Making her win the fight before it started, which is just genuinely bad-ass.

Finally LittlePip makes it into Ponyville -- pursued by a sniper. Can't catch a break!

No, she or he could just wait until I came out.

Something that might not be very noticeable yet is how FoE has kind of a inverted societal structure when it comes to gender. MLP had this too, to a degree, as it was targeting young girls. Here, we can see it transform the order pronouns are used in a common phrase. It might read as a typo or error but we will see that female characters tend to enjoy higher privileges and hold the highest positions of power. Of course that would affect their language as much as other phrases are transformed due to them being horses. See: "What the hay?"

 A pile of torn-up cloth rotted in a corner, smelling foul, like ponies had urinated on it repeatedly.

Nooo, Rarity's work and art :(

 Finally, we get to read the encrypted message from earlier. It's Applebloom’s final words to Sweetie Belle, letting us realize that at least some of the Apple Family has been in Stable Two when it closed and it's first Overmare was Sweetie Belle, Rarity's younger sister. That’s cool to know, but doesn’t affect much of our understanding of anything yet.

Level Up! New Perk: Horse Sense. As we saw, LittlePip is a swift learner. I usually feel like whatever LittlePip learned in the chapter influences the perk she receives at the end. But shouldn't a perk only affect her after she got it? The allusions to RPG mechanics kinda fall apart a little bit when you think too hard about them.

Since they are a "Footnote" I'll just imagine that LittlePip leveled up and received the perk sometime *during* the chapter. Ah, now the world is right again.