#SO IT WAS EVEN MORE GRUELLING FOR HIM THAN IT WOULD BE FOR THE AVERAGE PERSON BUT HE WAS STILL SO STRONG THE ENTIRE TIME

[dexter-erotoph]

nobody knows how much it tears me apart that outside of sm3 we will most likely NEVER see how dexter normally is we wont see how he used to normally speak or look or what he liked to do for fun or his talents or his friends any of the stuff he surrounded himself with to make him as content and happy as he looked on his last day living normally before he got forced to regress after likely having to work so so hard to earn a life he was comfortable with. like i need you to understand HOW much you have to go through and how deeply frustrating and tormenting it must be to have this happen LOOK

[deusexlachina]

Antisocial DAO Part 14 (The Landsmeet): Alistair successfully Persuades himself to marry a beautiful woman because he is Hardened

I bring back the incriminating evidence to Arl Eamon and a few other nobles. Arl Eamon is satisfied that we have enough to call the Landsmeet, so I finally decide to talk to Anora, having calmed down about her gutlessly stabbing me in the back. She says she'll help me in the Landsmeet if I support her, but she sucks so I'll only agree if she marries Alistair, a prospect that disgusts both parties. I say I could convince Alistair, ignoring that I couldn't even convince a little boy to tell me why he was hiding in a wardrobe.

Alistair is still on the fence about being king, but he's more skeptical of Anora, saying people like her always think they're the only ones competent enough to fix things and think everyone should just get out of their way. In a rare moment of self-awareness, I avoid telling him that this describes me far more than it does the ineffectual Anora.

I suggest that he and Anora could marry and then they'd average out each of their unique flavours of shittiness into a stable government. This is a Persuade check, so of course I pick it. This run is all about failing to persuade people, so I decide I'll tell him to marry Anora, fail, and then push him onto the throne alone just because Hardened Alistair is a moderately better monarch.

I can't convince anyone of anything, least of all convince Alistair to marry Anora. I even checked on the wiki - you need high persuade and/or cunning! So I prepare to fail and...

I hear the words I never thought I would hear: "you've convinced me." Come on, Alistair. I can't convince anyone of anything. You convinced yourself. I barely had to mention Anora before this guy threw up his hands and said "ALRIGHT! I WILL MAKE HER MY QUEEN AND HAVE HER BEAR MY CHILDREN." This is what the taint does to a man's mind. That or living for months with no romantic options except a diseased elf who rarely bathes. The verdict is clear: a Hardened Alistair needs no Persuading. Useful news for anyone who decides to play a Warden without social skills (not recommended).

I share the good news with Anora and then I bring my party to the Landsmeet while she thinks about her life choices. Loghain accuses me of using Alistair as a puppet king. He always makes this accusation, which can be anything from completely accurate (if you marry him or act as his "advisor") to laughably wrong (if you were supporting Anora from the start). In this case, I like to think that I would like to be the puppeteer, but I am so clumsy at it that the best I can do is mash Alistair and Anora together and I only succeed at that because my enemies are even more embarrassingly bad with people. By default, my favourite way to win!

I accuse Loghain of everything I can prove, which is a fair bit, but I Am Socially Inept and wouldn't be able to win this on my own. But I don't have to do this on my own. I've got Anora, who lays into her own dad while he avoids my spooky stare.

With Anora's help, all the nobles support me, except for one contrarian dick who likes Loghain no matter what. I win with as much grace as you'd expect. "Hah! You lose."

Keeping up my pattern of focus firing the boss until he surrenders, I challenge Loghain to a duel. As we take our places, circling each other like the two Mabari on Ferelden's heraldry, I glare at him while a nobleman looks on with the interest level appropriate for grocery shopping.

The battle is gruelling, but I have every worthwhile magical buff, including, most important of all, my Miasma. That, Loghain, is the smell of fear!

Between armour and odour, my defences are at least as thick as Loghain's, despite him being an endgame boss who specializes in using a shield. This is a testament to how balanced the Arcane Warrior is. The battle is one-sided, with Loghain missing me as much as he misses the part of his life before he first smelled me at Ostagar. Loghain surrenders, possibly hoping I'll accept but just as likely hoping I'll execute him so he doesn't have to endure the stench any more.

Just as we bicker about what to do about Loghain, my buddy Warden Riordan shows up with a compromise: we can spare him but make him a Grey Warden. I ask why Loghain could be trusted as a Grey Warden after killing a lot of us, and Warden Riordan explains that he would have no choice but to do his job: Grey Wardens and darkspawn can smell out each other's taint.

I sentence Loghain to be submitted to the taint, which is poetic justice both because he will have to become what he killed and because, after trying so hard to rid Ferelden of my Miasma, now he will have a smelly taint of his own.

[thecanishades]

The autopsy of Alice Corbin

(A snippet of an autopsy done by medical examiner Rory Cattanach, one of my favourite characters from my upcoming novel "Into The Wilde")

Alice Corbin lay bare and exposed on Rory’s table. Her eyes were open and locked onto his, glassed over and hazy. Rory downed the last of his Monster Energy and began the autopsy.

He took note of all external markings: ligature marks around her neck, a mole under her left eye, old bruising under one of her knees, a scar across her right shoulder. Anything could be a clue, so he made sure to write it down. If he missed something, it could mean that Bradley couldn’t solve the case. He knew that kind of failure would eat him up inside. Rory knew that letting such a thing happen would break his heart. He flipped Alice onto her back again and moved her hair from her face. He was filled with a sense of sonder; this was a woman who had a life, a childhood. She would have learnt to ride a bike, or had a petty fight with a parent, or fallen in love with someone for the first time… Rory was always in awe at this. Even while in the morgue, he was surrounded by life. He finished the first portion of his work by draining her of her blood, ensuring a quick and clean examination.

The next, more gruelling section of the autopsy involved weighing her organs. Rory hummed along to Lana Del Rey’s ‘West Coast’ as he began carving into her flesh, just like he’d done to plenty of others. He trailed the scalpel from both shoulders to her navel, eventually trailing down to her pelvic bone. The cut was deep. He peeled back layers of muscle and soft tissue until he could see the sweet ivory of her ribcage. Once the ribs had been sufficiently cut into, and the heart and lungs were exposed, he reached into her chest and cut them free. Her heart was heavy in his hand. Rory guessed it was around 290g, slightly bigger than the average females. He weighed it. He was close- it was 287,5g. He did the same with the lungs, setting them aside in a plastic container for when he was finished.

The abdominal muscle was removed to expose the rest of her organs: the liver, intestines, stomach, pancreas kidneys, spleen, and her pelvic organs. Rory chuckled to himself in the soft glow of the morgue lights. This was the closest he’d gotten to a naked woman since college. The thought was disappointing. He finished the process of weighing the organs and cleaned them as quickly as he could. The liver and kidney needed to be set aside for external testing. He figured he’d get it done early the next morning. Rory stuffed up her body to replace the gaps her organs left behind. He sewed her chest up and covered her with the tarp, giving her some modesty after all she’d been through. She was dead, but he still felt that she should be respected.

The bone saw whirred as it tore through Alice’s skull. There wasn’t much blood left in her; Rory had made sure to drain her and fill her with a formaldehyde mixture before cutting her open. He made the cut from behind her ears to the crown of the skull before peeling back the skin and muscle of her head and face. It was not a pleasant sight. Rory hastily removed her brain and set it into a jar. He'd keep it in a preservative solution for a few weeks before he did any further work with it. He could see his breath. The morgue was colder than it should be. Rory set down his tools and collapsed into a chair at his desk. His head throbbed and his vision was blurred. He tried to clean his glasses, but it didn’t make a difference. The glasses landed on the tiled floor with a crack and Rory felt his arms become heavy.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Can I request a Kai Parker smut

stuck in 1903

kai parker x reader / masterlist

summary; being trapped in the prison world after sacrificing yourself to protect your friends, leads to some very embarrassing and frustrating situations / warnings; kai being an annoying lil shit, mentions of death, smut, possessiveness, imprisonment,

the prison world, perhaps it would have been slightly peaceful if an entrapped witch was not following your every move like an obsessed ghost. he was relentless, stalking his threatening footsteps after your own, prowling for a manner of attention.

“if you stop this whole, ‘let’s walk in y/n’s shadow’ charade, i will have sex with you. can we pursue a deal concerning the matter?” instantly, the witch muted his movements, gripping onto the side of the aisle shelf as he studied you, searching to see if your prospectus contained serious regard.

once he had come to a conclusion, he raised his eyebrows. kai had tried his darnest to keep you contained in that house that he likened to call a home. there was something he didn’t wish for you to discover, he was keeping you isolated from everything within the empty world that his family had banished him to.

that made you think, that it was possible, that perhaps other souls had entered the enclosure of this world, and that was why you were seeking, in the hopes of providing yourself with the comfort that you weren’t alone in this cursed nation with the one, and the only, to your misfortune, kai parker.

there wasn’t much that you knew about him, he was a practical talker, rather than a personal one. he had stocks of questions about the modern world, so that he could relish in the imagery of how much it had evolved without him. a part of you pitied him, but another worried that there was a wisp of darkness that he was hiding.

you didn’t know him, he was a stranger, and that truth made him potentially dangerous. it was safe to always remain on your toes, even if he had a habit of trailing huskily after. it gave him no chance of envisioning you as a sitting duck, every day was the same, but he was the one thing that could change that.

one tip of his mindset, and he could remember that he preferred being alone. and he could kill you, piking you on a stake, despite being human, or using his siphoning hands to drain all life out of your body. this wasn’t your first rodeo with the aftermath of death; bonnie had found a way to bring you back, her power flowed through you, keeping you logically alive, to a fault that was.

parker licked his pork rind exploited lips, collecting the dust from the treat, and bringing it into the cauldron of his mouth. the man was thinking, and that idea alone scared you. however you waited for him to persevere with whatever was unravelling in his mind, although you could have easily passed him by, finding elsewhere to seek salvation.

“is there a due date for that offer, because i’d like to take you up on it right now?” a smirk curved his mouth. perhaps not every day was the same, this was certainly going to be different, that was one thing that was for sure.

he noticed how your shoulders withered from the thought; sex in a grocery store, you had never been so filthy, and despite there being nobody around to bare witness to the sin, it still had your skin crawling. hugging your arms across your chest, you sighed, giving into his slick prompt, leaning your head down out of self disrespect.

kai couldn’t be trusted, you knew that. not for the fact that his own family had sent him here, to wallow in nothing more than the loneliness of his own company. there had to be a reason! nobody’s mother nor father would do such an act for no resolving purpose.

gulping, you finally grew the guts to adjust your gaze on him, and how he tapped his foot, silently demanding a response. “i mean it kai, we have sex, and you stop trailing after me like some stray. you got that?”

he got it. his footsteps came closer to you as he backed you into a shelf along the outer wall, enclosing you against the packets of rustling pork rinds, accidentally crushing their interior contents, as you raised your chin up, obscenely glaring at the mysterious man.

“oh, i heard every word.” he held out his pinkie finger to make a promise, and sickeningly you reached your own out, shaking on it, before he rasped his hand around your wrist, pressing a kiss upon the thin flesh. leaning down, kai attached your lips, humming contently, it had been so long since he had endured the contact of another person.

with his unoccupied hand, he slithered it down your chest, dragging his knuckles down your stomach, before he reached the tender edge of your trousers. he toyed with the band, the action making you stifle any sounds of admitted likening to his teasing; if you did, then he would only continue to do so more.

it felt like forever since you had gotten laid, a large portion of you wanted kai to take you on the spot, which it looked as though that was his intent, and that he definitely would do so. but another felt sick of yourself, these were the extents that you would go to to be left alone, and there was not exactly a plan b if he didn’t.

you wanted to obtain a way out of this place, and possibly the only chance that you had of doing so was to wander away from his ever watching eyes, and strive on your own, trying to discover any evidence of life throughout this semi detached world. you felt like a cattle, being guarded by their herder, he was protecting you from anything that could daunt your mind with realisation.

it wasn’t the fact he was protective, it was more in the terms of possessiveness. though he wanted to leave, he claimed that there was no way out, he was intent on descending your hope of uncovering an escape, from not only the ghost town of your home, but from him also.

“what to first? should i just fuck you or make you blow me?” his teeth toyed with a sly smile, as though he were trying to convince you into a conflict regarding the answer. but instead of growing a fuzzy brain, you simply glared at him, pushing his fingers out from where they had slipped under the top of your bottoms, leaving the man to be a confused mess; it was kinda cute, but for all you knew, his often sublime attitude.

“i didn’t say foreplay parker, only sex was on the table. and that will be all you’re getting, unless you want me to leave you high and dry, and find another resolve to rid myself of your attached escapades of following after me like there’s a wire attached from me to you.”

“fine.” he raised his hands in a motion of surrender, chuckling lightly to himself. “i was just testing my luck, which is clear that i don’t have.” he turned, his brows going up higher on his face as he saw a variety of boxes stacked on one of the shelves. he picked one up, reading over the scripture as you scoffed.

“i don’t think your gonna need xxl, unless you’re going to cum that much since nobody has had their hands on you for a long time. you’ve had to suffice and please yourself for how long again?”

“spicy, i like it. eh, you’re right anyways.” he tossed the box down the aisle, grasping for another like a kid in the candy store, this time it was for the variety of average sized men. kai aggressively ripped the box open, causing the contents of packets to spill all over the ground.

“are you incapable of doing anything like a grown ass man?” it was irritating just watching him fail to do ordinary everyday tasks. he was destructive, and it seemed to be a large part of his personality.

“you won’t be asking that in a minute y/n/n.” he sent you a gruelling wink, making you inherently gulp, watching as he plucked a singular condom off the ground, holding it between his teeth as he began to unbuckle his belt, starting towards you.

“whatever you say kai.” rolling your eyes at his constant cockiness, you pried open your jeans, dropping your panties to the ground, as you caught kai frozen, with a slight swab of drool bathing his bottom lip. “come on, i am waiting, so hurry your ass up before i get bored of doing so.”

“you want this as much as i do, you just won’t admit it.” he lightly sneered towards you, and you felt your body flush with composed embarrassment. perhaps you had thought about the ordeal a little during the time you had been there, but there had to be some excuse! he was the only guy in a worldwide radius, that was a reasonable enough purpose.

when he was rid of apparel on his lower half, he rolled the protection onto his length, as he pinned you completely flush against the shelves of the aisle, one of his hands cupping your ass, before he helped you clamber into his arms, as he held your weight up.

you wrapped your legs expertly around his waist, biting your lip as he ran the tip of his cock against your clit, and then pushed into your walls, his moans reverberating erotically along the column of your throat, as he trailed his lips against your tender flesh.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he uttered as he began to thrust. it had been a long time since kai had endured any physical contact, let alone like this. the siphon was relishing in it, slipping his cock in and out of your folds as though that was his lifelong purpose.

for the first time in many years, he no longer felt trapped, he had inched into a small paving of freedom, all because he was inherent not to leave you to abandon alone. you too were also caught up in the web of pleasure, you didn’t here two specific sets of footsteps enter the store, searching for the witch that had claimed that he knew of a route out of this subordinate hell.

they had survived the enduring loss of their own freedom, being sucked from the force of a collapsing vacuum into this lonesome reality. the other side had fallen, and so had their jaws, as they saw kai not only having sex, but with you, their lost friend whom had given her life to previously save them from complicated doom.

bonnie felt borderline disgusted as she watched you shut your eyes and try to bounce yourself on the man’s cock, whilst damon was specifically disappointed. your hands rasped around his shoulders, though their grip tightened as your name was called.

as you turned and saw your friends, it all suddenly made sense. from kai’s behaviour, to his lack of inclination to leave you alone, it was clear that he was hiding you from them and vice versa. “bonnie, damon!” you gasped, unsure of how you were supposed to compose yourself throughout this predicament.

“yes, bon bon, damey.” kai mocked with a roll of his eyes, as he remained still to his own dismay. “could you maybe give us five minutes, we kinda weren’t done here. just let us finish, and- ow!” you slapped the side of his face, scrambling to situate yourself out of his menacing grip.

with downturned eyes, you hastily pulled your clothes back up into place, glaring at the siphon. “you knew didn’t you? you knew that these were my friends and you purposely made sure i was distanced from them!” you growled at kai, your eyes fluttering with disregard for the imprisoned magician.

“well if i had, then you’d be less inclined to spend time with me, and this, would never have happened.” his fingers pried at pointing between the pair of you, amusedly he would say, though you would think otherwise. “welcome to 1903 baby! the world of lies and disgrace.”

“you’re the disgrace, you killed your own family, your younger siblings.” bonnie spoke, and her words made you feel physically sick. “get away from him y/n.” you followed her command, rushing over to her and damon, with shock established in your eyes. you had just fucked a sociopath.

“well, i guess that the jig is up.” he shrugged as he conformed his own clothes to be put in place. the fact that you still felt a rouse to finish what you started made you feel disgusted with yourself, though he deserved to rot here. why did the bad guys always have to be so hot? it just was not fair.

[bangbaby]

##KINGDOM (FIELD DAY) !

FORMAT: dot point fic

PAIRING/S: lucy and the boys ( skz )

GENRE: idol, fluff, humour

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: implied romance, swearing, alpha female energy, reverse harem

where mnet and the general public believe a girl can’t compete in “a man’s game”, but are proved wrong.

— a summary

LUCY: little pigs? don’t make me bust your kneecaps!

##SPRING TRACK MEET !

a day of fun for the groups participating in kingdom: legendary war that doesn’t necessarily require gruelling rehearsals (aka the idol crossover episode everyone wanted and much preferred over a dumb competition).

note: i don’t have access to the whole episode so i might have missed a lot and events may be out of order, apologies!

the agu (i9)!

sf9 - white, ikon - red, the boyz - yellow

mayfly!

btob - blue, ateez - green, stray kids - pink

yeah, stray kids really said fuck the patriarchy— pink is gender-neutral!

now, you would think mnet would request lucy to sit out and simply act as supporting mc for the day— to which they absolutely did, but she refused immediately.

not just because she’d hate to split the duo that is lovey & dovey (changbin and wooyoung from ateez), but she wants to play games too!

sure, she’ll be against boys at least a head taller than her— but what were they going to do? most of them wouldn’t even dare stand a metre within her vicinity in fears of starting a scandal. lucy’s gender is basically her superpower at this point in the show.

i.n and eric reading the oath out together is just the sweetest though. at least kingdom and fans can agree on one thing: and that’s maknaes on top!

athletes of the kingdom track meet swear under oath as follows— we will ignore the age differences, but not the rules of the game. we will keep in mind that our bodies belong to melody, ikonic, fantasy, the b, stay and atiny; and be careful not to get injured. we will be sociable today and do our best to become close to all of the members. at ease!

not sf9’s average height being a whole ten cm (four inches for you imperial weirdos) taller than stray kids’.

lucy standing at 1.71m (5’7”) makes her as tall as the vaulting horse, which is interesting, to say the least (and 30cm shorter than han jisung, according to myth).

also very shippable with tall boys and smol girls, according to fans. because anyone near her height (like the members) are “just friends”, right?

jokes on them though bc lucy’s totally over how much height differences used to fluster her: little do they know her type now also comes in at 5’7” whose name starts with c and and ends with hristopher bang.

but the kang duo, aka lucy and chani (sf9) had mc’d together (with her twin hyunjin) once upon a time! being a little more than acquaintances, the two cheer for each other despite being on opposing teams.

master minhyuk gives everyone the tip that acceleration and having no fear are the most important factors involved in vault jumping: lucy’s got the latter down— which is a good sign.

*btob cheering like high school students at a football meet for skz*

whilst ateez: it’s the strawberry kids!

the nickname is definitely cute, but lucy isn’t narrowing her eyes at the sun…

dwaekki-challenge! changbin’s the first to jump for the kids: and if you don’t already know the result— let’s just say the boy is absolutely blue-balled by the vaulting horse.

lucy definitely joins the chorus of gasps and oh’s, but god bless those organs of hers are completely internal. again, gender superpower.

I.N faking his jump by hiding behind the vault and all of the kids dragging him off the mat is teamwork at its finest. if everyone replicated this energy during phys ed, maybe the world would be a better place…

lee know, aka six-black-belts: martial arts expert is merely one of the forces to be reckoned with in stray kids. the duality of this man’s athletic ability is no joke, in fact— it’s sexy as hell.

but according to ikon, stray kids are their rivals today— and martial arts doesn’t necessarily contribute vaulting. though they may have a point, the innate flexibility that comes with it helps lee know easily clear the height (to his own surprise).

it definitely gives lucy a kick in her step when groups wanna fight for no good reason. despite how much she admires her ikon oppas, she’ll always be extra protective of her members.

bobby is however an exception, considering the faith he has in his members is non-existent and hilarious.

felix and lucy (who follow lee know) also have a black belt in taekwondo! consider the three of them the martial art kittens!

whilst felix has trained for twelve years, lucy’s trained for half the amount of time (starting at seven years old and stopping when she moved to korea at fourteen/fifteen).

korean vs aussie line: yongbok (noona), hwaiting! let’s go, felix (lucy)!

and as felix makes the first jump/flops like a rag doll, lucy also succeeds but lands up straight like a needle.

she grins and makes a heart with her fingers at the camera like the cheese that she is.

felix and lucy might also be the only two members that can do the splits without difficulty, so their jumps are insanely clean (almost professional-gymnast-worthy).

everyone is amazed! equal cheering energy especially as seungmin, han and chan also all succeed in jumping the vault.

ace member chan just being extra when he crosses his legs mid air (he is definitely not raising a brow at an easily-impressed-but-trying-to-hide-it lucy).

lucy cheers for btob like there’s no tomorrow but is also very amused by eunkwang adjusting the springboard to help him make the jump.

not pretty boy juyeon blowing a cheeky kiss to lucy when he successfully jumps the vault…

no one signed up for this reverse harem composed of almost 40 members, but that’s essentially what the show’s become.

lucy immediately turns her head (with seungmin force-turning her entire body around) but the damage has been done: chan’s competitive dial’s turned to eleven.

though the boyz all make it over the vault, lucy only visibly responds to the adorable changmin making a peace sign at her and kevin twerking for screen time. basically the 98’ liners @ lucy: it’s free real estate.

it’s ateez’ turn to vault! yeosang’s cheater jump (boss level moves honestly) and respectfully-bowing hongjoong after his hip collides with vault earns a giggle from lucy.

hongjoong: 10cm makes a difference!

lee know, felix, jeongin: really?

the look on chan’s face is just— sure it does, because the man’s ego has to be inflated in order to impress his girl.

lucy doesn’t reply to either party but her grin totally says, that’s what she said.

seungmin, han and felix don’t make it to the semi-finals because the vault is just way too high (2m and 20cm) and intimidating, but the 98’ duo: seeknow (lucy and lee know) do!

chan: why are you guys still here?

lee know: i dunno, why am i here?

lucy: we’re just built different,

lee know’s butt unfortunately catches the edge of the vault during his jump and he fails: but lucy and chan rush to him to make sure he’s okay.

lucy, on the other hand, is a fucking monster. the girl can lift her weight and more, which is essentially half of the battle. she clears the monstrous height like the kangaroo that she is, which earns a profound scream from both wooyoung and changbin at the sidelines.

changbin: holy shit! what the hell was that?

wooyoung, who follows lucy also garners the same energy from the mc panel.

lucy hi-fives the boy which makes him all giddy and smiley: the bunny from ilsan truly adores his noona.

and speaking of kangaroos, sulky chan wants a hi-five too!

he clears the vault without any struggle, but is rewarded with an awkward fist bump instead (he really thought she was gonna go in for a five). good stuff!

and that’s the exact moment chan makes the crazy bet he’s out for minhyuk’s vaulting king title. the boy is a lucy-pleaser and everyone on the field can feel it.

minhyuk (to chan): okay, hwaiting, i guess!

the man definitely makes the finals with the others, along with juyeon (the i-9’s only remaining member).

2m and 30cm is the deciding height of the final vault, to which lucy is looking straight up at. she visibly gulps. yeah, no biggie. she knows she doesn’t have the speed for this, but she’ll try because she can.

wooyoung and juyeon are first up! they unfortunately don’t make the height and topple the entire vault down to the mat with them. lucy reassures them it’s okay and praises their amazing skills thus far.

chan: ladies first,

lucy: oh, you’re gonna pull that card now—

but really it’s his excuse not to put pressure on her if/when he succeeds. it’s kind of him, but lucy sees right through it.

stray kids: you can do it!

felix: let’s go!

without the right amount of speed, lucy knows she can’t clear the height. she doesn’t panic (unlike the rest of the boys on the field that think she’s about to hurt herself), rather she knows to intentionally wedge her foot in the vaulting horse and climb on top of it.

she just sighs and shrugs— which is adorable (even when she’s two metres in the air) and still receives plenty of praise and cheer. so close!

chan: you were really close,

lucy: thanks, hot shot. and good luck! just don’t die, okay?

the boy nods obediently, happy that the girl always has her full faith in him.

chan and minhyuk clear 2m and 30cm to fight for 2m and 40cm (basically insanity): to which they tie as vaulting champions.

lucy is endeared when chan reveals that the vault’s height scared him as he approached it, but tries to put his mind at rest by comparing it to the height of a basketball player. you’d have to have superpowers to jump over something taller than yao ming,

chan: i guess that’s true,

also, she’s definitely not afraid to repeat his words (which are really her words she used to tell him back when they were still trainees): small packages come with big surprises!

but the vaulting competition finishes just in time for lunch: fried chicken, the kids’ favourite!

mini game of the day: who is the visual king?

lucy: well, shit— i guess i’m out.

chan: yeah, i’m going home.

lucy (death glare): how dare you?

chan: sorry. but it does say you can vote for yourself.

han: who in their right mind would do that though?

chan and lucy in perfect sync: you.

han: damn, you guys are right.

but he’s not alone: changbin can’t lie so he votes for himself (like the king he is).

seonghwa voting for felix makes me uwu everytime…

the look of absolute betrayal on his hyungs’ faces when i.n tells them he voted for juyeon (i mean, he’s not wrong though).

everyone preparing for themselves to be announced as the winners, but it’s eunkwang (btob) and hyunjae (the boyz) in fourth place, sunwoo (the boyz) in third, felix in second and minhyuk (btob) in first!

not peniel hugging changbin when he loses to felix.

felix and minhyuk finding out they voted for each other is just tooth-rotting stuff. good boy!

but the likely question in everyone’s minds is: who did the girl vote for?

trick question or—? nope, lucy also voted for felix.

and of course she did, he’s her sunshine after all.

lucy (to chan): you voted for felix too, right?

chan: yeah,

but it’s the fattest lie of the century: the boy, without any hesitation, wrote lucy down as the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen (cut wasn’t aired on national tv though, that’s for sure).

the final games for the day are balloon tail and a relay race: lucy is unfortunately forced to opt out of the rough-housing/tackling and doesn’t consider herself a speedy runner (more stamina-based), so she joins changbin on the mc panel during the afternoon.

lucy (referring to herself and changbin): yep, that’s us— the designated cheerleaders.

mc changmin: i thought you guys were the ace members of your team, are you sure you want to be here?

changbin: well, it’s true we’re the ace members. but that’s exactly why we’re here— we want our members to stand out more.

younghoon: that’s how the i-9 will beat you guys though,

lucy (happily): yeah? try us then.

the girl’s definitely got a sense of humour that the general korean public probably hate, but the international fans adore.

anyway, the highlight of lucy’s day is obviously seeing her team go from fifth to second place during the circular relay.

chan running is always a joy to watch: same vibes as watching your first crush compete in the school athletics and win.

the day ends with everyone completely exhausted, but at least everyone had fun as well as created life-lasting bonds/friendships: in other words, fuck mnet and their contests— just give us more collaborations.

[ nav ] [ masterlist ] [ skz ] [ itzy ] ©bangbaby

TAGS: @skz-angel @woopetals @just-some-weird-blog

[seijojoh]

You Should Be More Careful | T. Amajiki

Pairing: vil!Tamaki x fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you are saved by the indigo haired villain by some lowlife. What was supposed to be an innocent rescue turns out to be something more.

Warnings: NSFW towards the end, yandere themes, cursing, reader gets hurt, slight gore. WC: 1.1k A/N: This was a little something I whipped up for a friend from discord. I had a lot of fun writing this and Tamaki could seriously like, get it <3

How did you get yourself into this situation again? It was supposed to be a quick trip, really. Order over the phone to your favorite take out spot, walk the short five minute walk it took to get there, pick up your food and head back. Simple, right? Right - so why the fuck were you being cornered by this below average villain who was claiming to make his name known to the world in the nastiest alleyway possible? 

Also your perfectly good food had been spilled onto the dirty concrete next to your feet.

“A shame to hurt such a beauty like yourself, but don’t worry. I’ll try to go easy on you, babe.” You know you should have had a better reaction. Pushed him away, screamed for help, reached into your pocket for the pepper spray you always carry with you in times of danger, but your mind could not process the means of protecting yourself when it was in an insane amount of pain.

Your body was hot, on fucking fire; not literally, but it was close enough. You suddenly began to sweat, your mouth open to suck in any cold air down your lungs just to ease the pain. What the heck? Is this his quirk? Some stupid thing that allows him to burn up his victims? There was no time to think before you fell down on all fours, your hands and knees feeling like jello as you attempted to gain control over yourself.

“I understand things must be getting hot for you, huh?” He spoke, but you didn’t hear. “What a fickle thing. This heat your feeling is from my quirk called Mind Melt. Your brain is quite literally melting from the inside the longer I am close to you. Just gotta get a good stare into your eyes for a few seconds and you’re done for. Cells begin to die, nerve conduction slows, and altogether you will stop functioning altogether. Sorry, again toots. If I could make this as painless as possible, I would,” he sighed, squatting down near your hunched over form to deliver a head pat. You were sure he could feel the intense levels of heat emanating from your skull.

“S-Stop,” you whimpered weakly, coughing up the bile and blood that surged out of your panicking body. “P-Ple...Please!”

“No can do, babes. I am gonna show these heros exactly who I am. They’ll know to fear Hot Shot! And-!” The villain didn’t even get to finish his statement before he was sent flying all the way down the alley by a very large… tentacle?

With the added distance, the heat stopped just as fast as it came on. “Oh shit,” you breathed out softly, lifting the sleeve of your arm to wipe away the drool that pooled out of your mouth.

“What the fuck?! Who the he-” you could hear Hot Shot scream from wherever he was flung to but he was cut off again by a gruelling smash, and then silence. With an unsteady head, you looked over at the noise, finding a third party standing over the villain who attacked you, foot directly pressing into his face. “Imagine being that fucking desperate that you attack an unsuspecting civilian,” the third voice chuckled, hardly budging as the man underneath him struggled to break free.

“You want to make it big out there as a villain, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that,” he chuckled. From where you were placed, you could see the same foot the man used transform into… what is that? A chicken foot? Before you could confirm or deny, two of the sharp talons sunk into the villain’s eyes, pulling a scream out of him.

That seemed to wake you up from whatever trance you were doing. You gasped softly and shifted further away from the two, but with your body still in shock, it was unlikely you were going anywhere. Too panicked to get away from the scene, you didn’t notice when the screams stopped and the heavy footsteps started making their way towards your crawling form. 

You gasped when a large and warm hand rested on your back, while the other gripped your chin to turn your head to face him. “Tsk, look at the mess he left,” you stared at the stranger whose laxed eyes bored directly into you. It was enough to make you freeze in your spot, horror shooting down your spine as you couldn’t find the means to move at all. “What a shame too, looks like he got you pretty good.”

His face was suddenly closer to yours, his indigo hair brushing against your cheeks. If you could cower away from his touch, you would. However, you sat there helpless, too weak to do anything but whimper out of fear that you would meet the same fate as Hot Shot. “Awe, don’t be scared, bunny. I’m not an asshole who’ll hurt you. No, no. I don’t do that to good ones like you,” he hummed softly, grip tightening on your jawline softly to turn your head to both sides, inspecting you for further damage.

“A-Are you gonna let me go?” It was a stupid question. A stupid question that shouldn’t have been asked. You could see with his growing smirk and his head cocking to the side that he found enjoyment in such an innocent, desperate question

“You would like that, huh?” He chuckled, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to squeeze your cheeks, effectively puckering your lips outwards. “I could, but what if someone else comes by and hurts you on your way home? There’s no guarantee that I’ll come to your aid,” his gaze was trained over your lips, lifting the hand from your back to bring his thumb against your bottom lip. “Plus, such an innocent bunny like yourself is so badly hurt. You can hardly hold your own weight.” 

It’s true. With this much shock your body was undergoing, it was beginning to shut down. Your vision was slowly becoming hazy, breathing much more ragged and your body felt uncomfortably warm still - an aftermath from the quirk used on you. A small whimper left your lips when he pressed his thumb further into your bottom lip, the tip of it just barely entering your parted lips.

Slowly, as if not to scare you any more, he moved his head closer so that his forehead lightly rested upon yours. All you could stare at was him and he fucking loved it. Special bunnies like you should only look at the ones who will promise to take care of them, look at them for aid when something is not right. And he wanted it to remain that way. Forever.

“I’m gonna take extra good care of you, my little bunny~”

[bts-hyperfixation]

Hot for teacher

Professor Kim may be the hottest man to walk the planet. It was such a shame he was a pretentious asshole with the ego to match. From the moment you first walked into his philosophy lecture you knew it was not going to be a fun semester. His eyes raked across you and he smirked, from then on you became his punching bag every time no one was willing to answer his questions. He would pretend to look for someone else to call on, but he would always come back to you, seemingly taking pleasure in the way you squirmed unable to recall which philosophers he had been talking about.

After a particularly gruelling lecture, your friends decided you needed a night out. They had enough of seeing you come home and flop down onto your bed before reading every philosophy book on the reading list just to avoid the humiliation of your teachers questions again. It took some convincing on your end but eventually you find yourself in a revealing outfit, into an uber.

The destination was a bar popular with locals downtown, the uni students often avoided it because it was out of the way of the main clubs, making it perfect for your plan of quietly studying your e-books while your friends got too drunk to notice you breaking their rules. You ordered a cocktail to nurse as the girls you were with pounded a few shots before moving into a booth hidden in the corner. You didn’t see the professor enter the bar, but he saw you. Eyes once again dragging down your form, enjoying the new skin on offer while also cursing his old roommate’s choice of watering hole. He tries to concentrate on the conversation he is having with Jimin, but when your friends leave you alone in the booth his attention is drawn back to you. He watches as a couple of frat boy types seize the opportunity to descend on your now vulnerable position.

The boys squeeze into the booth, backing you into the corner. You can smell the beer on their breath as they get uncomfortably close to you. The one sat next to you puts a hand on your thigh. You wince as he pinches the exposed skin.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a bar this far away from campus.” He flashes what you’re sure he thinks is a charming smile and leans impossibly closer to you. You dig your nails into his hand in an attempt to make him remove it, but he just grasps tighter.

“I’m not alone, my friends are over there” your voice is weaker than you would have liked and when you glance at your friends you notice they are a little too inebriated to help you right now. The boys smirk when they see that help isn’t coming for you. Panic rises in your throat as the hand on your thigh creeps further up, pushing your dress with it.

“Excuse me gentleman, if you don’t mind, the lady will be coming with me now.” You stare up at Taehyung, trying to process where he had come from, surprised you hadn’t seen him before now. He looks intimidating even outside of the lecture hall. The frat boys falter for a second before scoffing and brushing off the interruption. Taehyung does not take well to being ignored, reaching for a beer bottle nearby and smashing it against the table. “I said she is coming with me.”

The men glance at the sharp glass in your professor’s hand and then at each other before removing themselves from the benches, evidently deciding you weren’t worth the stitches. The relief floods your system as Taehyung lowers his self-made weapon.

“Are you okay?” he questions, holding his hand out to assist you out of the booth. You take it and slide out from behind the table. Your eyes don’t leave his as you straighten your dress out.

“Why are you helping me?” you’d meant for the question to stay in your mind, but it slipped out anyway.

“I couldn’t just leave you there, what kind of man would I be if I’d let them carry on.” You shake your head a little to dispel thoughts of a potential ulterior motive and whisper your thanks. “Can I take you home miss Y/L/N.” you nod and allow him to slip an arm around your shoulder, feeling protected in his embrace. He drops you at your apartment and the incident never comes up again. In class it’s like he doesn’t know you exist for a few days before he returns to making you wriggle with difficult question. He seems to take a sick pleasure in watching you. Finally, having had enough you decide to confront him after class.

“Do you have a problem with me sir?” just the two of you remain in the classroom when you corner him.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to miss Y/L/N.”

“Y/N call me Y/N, and I think you do know. You always pick on me, you see to enjoy making me feel uncomfortable.” He takes a step towards you and you tumble back, suddenly very aware of the intimidating aura that surrounds him. You long to cower away and leave but you feel hypnotized.

“Y/N” your name sounds amazing coming from his lips. He takes a few more steps forward and you find the back of your legs pressed against his desk. His arms fall either side of you, palms resting on the desk. “Whatever problem you’ve decided I’ve got with you is purely in your head, our relationship is strictly… professional.” His gaze falls to your cleavage on the last word and you swallow thickly, suddenly very warm. “Will there be anything else?” he releases you and returns to packing his things away. Your brain was left cloudy as you stammer out a negative and flea the room, trying to straighten out what had just happened in your head. All you knew was your panties were inexplicably soaked.

A friend’s birthday brings you to yet another bar. This one much closer to campus and filled with people you knew. Still, you are uneasy after the last encounter, eyes dating around the room to ensure your safety. Not allowing anyone to back you into a corner. Every little movement puts you a little more on edge. You wait until the birthday girl is sufficiently drunk and announce your exit. To your dismay no taxis are available for the next half an hour. You consider walking for a moment, but the thought fills you with dread. Seen as all your friends are in various states of inebriation you find yourself only left with one option. You grab your phone and send out a silent prayer that he is still awake and doesn’t mind.

“Professor? Can you come get me?

It doesn’t take long for Taehyung to reach the bar, but when he pulls up, he finds another student flirting with you. In all fairness this one is being far more respectful, but it still makes his blood boil. The man trails a hand down your shoulder, and you do your best to turn him down politely. He climbs from his car and makes his way to you.

“Y/N are you ready to leave?” you are shocked to find him there with you so soon but nod anyway. The other student backs away immediately, Taehyung’s glare enough to scare anyone off as he leads you to his car. You clamber into the passenger seat and wait for him to drive you home. It’s a quiet ride, until you notice him miss the exit for the student dorms, instead heading for the teacher’s quarters.

“Sir? Where are we going?” you pulse races when you see the way he is looking at you.

“Clearly you can’t be trusted to keep yourself safe, so I thought I’d take you back to my apartment for the night, is that okay?” You nod your consent, and his free hand moves to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. You lean into the touch as he pulls softly. He soon pulls into the driveway of a small apartment complex used by newer teachers. He turns off the engine. Releasing your hair, he opens his door before coming around to help you from the car. He leads you through the front door, checking the coast is clear of other professors. He swiftly unlocks the door to his own apartment and ushers you in. you barely get a chance to look around the room before his hands are on you. He feels every curve of your body, lingering at your hips. After what seems like and age, his lips find their way to yours.

It’s the most passionate kiss you’ve ever experienced. Your head empties completely, consumed with only the need to get impossibly closer to him. You find yourself moaning loudly against his lips. He pulls away from you, holding your shoulders so you can’t follow him.

“Shh baby, you have to be quiet or we will get in trouble.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “You don’t want that do you.” You shake your head in response. “That’s my good girl.” You keen at the praise, desperate for him to call you that again. He kisses you again this time lifting you. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, and he carries you over to a large desk to the side of his room. He places you atop the cold wood. You shiver at the change in temperature, leaning further into Taehyung for warmth. He slots in between your legs, allowing you the extra contact. His fingers trail up your thighs and settle against your damp panties.

“So wet already… is it all for me baby? Or did that college boy do it for you? Did you get turned on by his shameless flirting while you were waiting for me?” his tone is teasing but it makes you whimper, worried he was displeased with you.

“Only you Taehyung, all for you” your voice is whiny as you grind into his hand, desperate for some friction.

“Sir… you will call me Sir.” He removes the pressure from your core and undoes his belt.

“Yes sir.” Your eyes are glued to his waist, mouth dry as he pulls the leather away from his pants. The movement is agonisingly slow.

“Good girl.” He purrs watching as you bask in the praise. “whose good girl?”

“Yours sir, always yours” he pulls your face up to meet his, kissing you as a reward for your good behaviour. You savour his sweet taste. He grips your hair and drags you backwards.

“On your knees.” You slide from the desk with no hesitation and open your mouth expectantly. He chuckles at your eager response. Petting your messy hair before unsheathing himself. Your mouth water instantly, a comfortable width and above average length. He is staring down at you, holding himself ready for you. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for how turned on this man would make you. You lurch forward, licking precoma from the tip of his throbbing cock. He tsks at you.

“So impatient Y/N, good girls should wait for their reward.”You sit back on your heels and wait for him to tell you it's okay sad that you've disappointed him. He strokes your hair again head nods letting you know it's okay to begin. Eagerly you wrap your lips around the head letting your hands cover the base where your throat won't reach. You run your tongue along a vein on the underside of his shaft. He quivers at the sensation hands burying deep within your hair.

You smile to yourself knowingly, loving that you were able to cause him pleasure. It's not long before his grasp is forcing you to take him deeper gag as he pushes you past your limits deeper and deeper onto his cock you struggled to breathe through your nose. He feels your throat constrict in protest but doesn't release you.

“Just a little longer” you feel him tense on your tongue trying to hold back his orgasm and you suck harder. Before you can make him cum, he removes himself from your mouth and you mourn the loss. You take the time to catch your breath as he helps you stand pressing his lips back on yours roughly. This time he lifts you and carries you into his bedroom throwing you onto the bed joining you quickly. He straddles you and pulls your dress over your head. He also makes quick work of your underwear, losing them somewhere in the corner of his room as he throws them away. He trails his mouth down your naked form hesitating before diving into your core.

He peppers your thighs with kisses, His warm breath mixing with the cold of your slick making you shiver as he edges closer and closer to where you need him the most. Soon Helix slowly up your slit hovering above your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back at the contact. His fingers soon join the assault, two slipping within you. As he pumped them finding the rough spot inside you, you feel the high in your stomach building embarrassingly quick. While he works hard to get you off your moans get a little too loud again and he slaps your thigh reminding you to be quiet. You bite down on your hand trying desperately not to scream as he brings you to climax. He continues until you're at the point of overstimulation enjoying the small whimpers that make their way past the barricade of your hand.

Once he decides that you are stimulated enough, he makes his way back up to your face. You grasp on to his shoulders needing the contact of his well chiselled form. Soon you feel him lining himself up with your entrance. You worry that it will hurt from the overstimulation brought on by your previous orgasm, but you can't find that within you to voice your concern only wanting to please him. He slowly pushes into you. You clench around him at the intrusion, feeling overly full. He gives you barely enough time to adjust before starting to thrust, no longer able to hold himself back. You grasp the bed sheets to keep you steady as he sets an unrelenting speed in search of his high. His eyes on yours, boring into you intensely, daring you to see what would happen if you looked away from him or made a sound. Your mesmerized by the concentration on his face, drawn in by everything about him. He cums deep inside of you, burying himself as much as he could until his dick stopped spasming.

“Are you okay, baby?” is the first thing out of his mouth when he comes to. You nod and his mouth twists into a boxy grin. “That’s my good girl.” You cuddle into his side sleepily and try not to focus on what will happen when you next attend one of his lectures.

Masterlist

Other works on these prompts - closed

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[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #6: A series of complicated problems

Words: ca. 7,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no Content: divorce and cheating

***

Iduna felt like she was too young to have a baby. This feeling was unrelated to her actual age, mind you. She was almost 31, a little older than average for a first-time mother even now, not that it really matters. Iduna had never had much interest in having a family and a child and that sort of thing. She had been content to go about her business.

Then she had met Agnarr, a relatively handsome man once she convinced him to shave of his moustache, who she got along with quite well. Iduna wouldn’t have called herself a romantic person, not particularly. But that was the trajectory of her relationship with Agnarr.

Eventually, they had decided to have children. Or Agnarr had suggested it repeatedly until Iduna supposed she ought to. She was older than average for a first-time mother, after all. And she didn’t want her womb to dry up or whatever her mother kept saying.

Possibly, if pressed on the matter enough, Iduna might have admitted that she didn’t have any strong desire for children. She wasn’t opposed to it, but she wasn’t loudly in favour either.

Regardless of all that, Iduna got distinctly pregnant. She was so distinctly pregnant, in fact, that she gave birth. She gave birth to a bloody mess with bright blonde hair that she decided to name Elsa. She would have been Elsa Arneberg if she’d gotten her mother’s last name. Instead, she was Elsa Anderson.

Elsa was a little on the light side, and a little on the quiet side, when she was born. Oh, she cried, just not that loud. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with the baby, though, so Iduna and Elsa were discharged normally.

It would be putting it too strongly to say that Iduna was happy as she left the hospital. She was tired and sore, she still felt a bit wobbly. But it would be fair to say that she was feeling a lot better about this whole baby thing now that she had one in her arms. There was a comforting sense of realness about it.

For Agnarr, that sense of realness was far from comforting. You see, Agnarr had two problems. They were interrelated problems, of course. The first problem Agnarr had was the persistent fact that neither he, nor his wife, were blonde. The second problem, the one that would ultimately lead to problems, was that Agnarr was a shitty person.

I don’t want to be too harsh about Agnarr’s general shittyness, mind you. He was the sort of man I’m sure you’ve met, maybe he’s the sort of man you are, but haven’t noticed. He was the sort of man who had good intentions but no work ethic.

He did a lot of the chores for the first few weeks, before he went back to work. He did a lot of cooking, even though he wasn’t great at it. He fed and changed baby Elsa, and he only resented doing so slightly.

But, as Iduna recovered, Agnarr did less and less around the house. He didn’t work particularly long hours at the time, or a particularly gruelling job. He had the time and the energy to do more of the housework than he did, he just didn’t get around to it. And when Iduna suggested he might want to actually pitch in, he was passive-aggressive about it but he did frequently do what he was asked, at least at first.

All this is to simply set the scene, mind you.

***

Elsa was six, her bright hair had grown long enough to braid, her blue eyes stared at everything, and she was distinctly ambivalent about school. All of this was either good or manageable.

For example, Elsa and Iduna would sit together on the couch after breakfast and Iduna would take out the braid and brush her daughter’s hair and then braid it again. It was quite a nice way to start the day.

Elsa wasn’t exactly difficult about going to school, she dragged her feet. Iduna didn’t mind, though. Sometimes it was fun to lift her daughter up and sweep her into the car, rather than wait. Iduna didn’t need to do that, it was just fun.

People underestimate children, broadly speaking. There’s this sense that a lot of people have that if you don’t tell a child something is wrong, they won’t notice. Depends on the problem, doesn’t it?

‘You and daddy don’t kiss anymore,’ Elsa pointed out on the drive to school one day, staring out the window.

‘Don’t we?’ Iduna squeaked.

Elsa shook her head, still looking out the window. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

Iduna nearly choked. ‘Nothing’s wrong with your father, he just has to work a lot, so he’s not around as much as he used to be.��

Elsa bothered to look away from the window to fix her mother with a proper stare. ‘If you say so.’

The question got lodged in Iduna’s brain though. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed that she and Agnarr had been drifting apart the last few years. The question that got stuck in her head was ‘what’s wrong with him?’

Somehow, Iduna hadn’t really thought about it that way. She’d wondered, a little, what was wrong with her. But most of all she’d figured it was bound to happen. With Elsa starting primary school the year before, with Iduna’s new job, with Agnarr’s promotion, with the fact that she had never really lost the all the weight she’d gained after giving birth.

There’s something worth knowing about parents, something that most people know while they’re kids and seem to forget when they’re parents. The thing that’s worth remembering about parents is that they are thoroughly capable of fucking their children’s lives up completely.

It’s not what a lot of people think, either. It’s not about poverty or neglect or abuse, not always. Some people can’t parent, or shouldn’t parent, but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about.

Iduna’s mother had commented on Iduna’s weight every time they had seen each other, until her mother died. Now Iduna commented on her own weight without needing the prompting.

There are subtler things that parents can do, of course. They don’t necessarily have to say anything, though Agnarr’s father never stopped himself from talking. They just have to act a certain way. Like his father before him, Agnarr came home and slumped into the couch and put his feet up. He got himself something to drink, sometimes a beer, usually some kind of soft drink.

He wouldn’t quite fight with Iduna, who had been doing the chores since she got home about an hour and a half earlier, or sometimes days earlier when Agnarr had work trips, having picked up Elsa from school. He would complain, though, if asked to do anything. He was relaxing, he would insist, work had been hard.

I must stress, his work was not that hard. It was still work, mind you, but so was taking care of a child, so was Iduna’s job. Iduna got to thinking that maybe what was wrong with Agnarr was that he was lazy. Even with the trips, his work wasn’t hard, she knew that.

The two of them tried to keep the noise down, so that Elsa wouldn’t hear them, but she was curious and she had good ears. She wouldn’t always get the full argument, but she reliably sided with her mother, if a side needed to be taken.

We mustn’t put any actual responsibility on Elsa, of course, she’d do enough of that on her own. Elsa asking what was wrong with daddy isn’t what caused the marriage to break down, it was on its way already. It had been on its way for years, since Agnarr’s promotion.

The marriage didn’t snap under the weight of Iduna’s new thought. But it absolutely couldn’t stand up to any kind of pressure. And Agnarr, too, could barely stand up to any kind of pressure.

A word of advice, if you expect to get notifications that you don’t want the person sitting next to you at dinner to check there are two things you can do: get a case that closes for your phone; or turn your phone off during dinner. Maybe do both, just to be safe.

Elsa was still six. Her bright hair was still braided. Her blue eyes still stared. They were eating dinner in a slightly tense sort of silence. Agnarr’s phone buzzed and Iduna got to it first. Now, this wasn’t a smart phone, not quite yet. But it was a phone with a screen on the front. A phone that displayed who had just texted you.

‘Oh, who’s Michelle?’ Iduna asked, handing the phone over.

Agnarr notably paused and visibly gulped. ‘A colleague,’ he said, a little too slowly. He tried to frown a little, like he was a little confused. ‘Haven’t I told you about her?’

Iduna shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ Iduna had noticed Agnarr’s reaction, of course, and she was carefully putting it down to their severely degraded relationship.

‘But I mentioned the new project, right?’ Agnarr asked, sounding already much less like a filthy liar.

Iduna nodded.

‘She’s one of the admin people for the project,’ Agnarr said, feeling quite confident in that lie. ‘She usually doesn’t text this late, but I’m sure I can leave it until we’re finished eating.’

Iduna nodded. ‘Sure.’

About ten minutes later, Agnarr’s phone buzzed again. He snatched it up, but he had lucked out in that the screen only showed the contact name of the person texting you and not anything they had just sent.

Agnarr frowned, theatrically, at his phone. ‘Sorry, I’ll just answer her and she’ll stop.’ He mumbled along with his text. ‘We’ll be back tomorrow around noon.’ He put the phone down.

‘A meeting?’ Iduna asked.

Agnarr congratulated himself on his quick thinking. ‘Sort of,’ he said. ‘The whole team is getting together again. It’s not just us, right?’

Iduna nodded.

‘Dennis is taking a long weekend to see his parents, I think, so I must be next on the list to contact or something. Must be the ‘A’ last name, huh?’

Iduna nodded. ‘Right. Well, that’s nice for Dennis.’

Agnarr nodded some more. ‘A little inconvenient for me.’ He waved his fork at the phone. ‘But it is nice. He’s a bit older than me, so his parents are um… kinda getting on.’

‘All your parents are already dead,’ Elsa said.

Iduna and Agnarr choked for different reasons. Iduna was trying not to laugh and Agnarr was trying to convince himself that his daughter hadn’t caught him lying.

‘Right, but they all died a bit younger than usual,’ Iduna said.

Elsa nodded, staring at Agnarr. ‘How old do people usually get before they die?’

‘These days? Late 70s to mid-80s,’ Iduna said. ‘It’s different for everyone. Some people live to over 100.’

‘I know,’ Elsa said. ‘It seems like a long time.’

Iduna choked on her laughter again.

***

A series of significant things happened in fairly rapid succession, when Elsa was six. Iduna and Agnarr got a divorce. Agnarr got fired from his job. And Agnarr and Mona Gothel broke up. Michelle’s name was actually Mona, by the way.

Iduna and Mona found themselves in a strikingly similar situation, except for that Iduna had been married. You see, both of them had had children with Agnarr. Both of them had had about half of Agnarr’s time. And both of them had wondered if they were doing something wrong, since Agnarr wasn’t really great as a partner.

Anna Anderson, Mona’s daughter with Agnarr, was four at the time her parents split up. She had stronger feelings on the matter than Elsa did, what with being a bit more boisterous and cuddly in general, and also younger.

The first time Elsa and Anna met, Anna was immediately sold and Elsa was not. The divorce wasn’t finalised, but Agnarr had been moved out of both houses already.

‘This is your little sister, Anna, I suppose,’ Iduna had said.

‘Which makes Elsa your big sister, Anna, isn’t that nice?’ Mona had said.

Iduna and Mona had been awkward with one another, and Elsa had very much picked up on it. Anna had picked up on it too, of course, but she was much more interested in the fact that she had a sister.

Elsa hadn’t been mean to Anna or anything. But the two of them were different, certainly. Where Elsa was quiet and thoughtful for such a young person, Anna had been energetic, enthusiastic, and enjoyed giving hugs.

Elsa had let herself be led around Mona’s smaller home, had been appropriately impressed by Anna’s crayon and pencil drawings. She had accepted hugs and not really returned them. She had argued that if she got to have magical powers, she could certainly use ice to counteract a dragon’s fire.

They were in the small back yard, pretending to be on an epic quest.

‘But dragons are supposed to be scary,’ Anna said. ‘Even if you freeze it, it’s strong.’

‘What if I’m strong?’ Elsa said. ‘What if we’re both strong?’

Anna nodded, the idea swiftly growing on her. ‘If you freeze the dragon, I can smash it with my hammer.’

‘Exactly,’ Elsa said. ‘And I can protect us from its fire.’

Anna nodded some more. ‘Right.’

‘Stay behind me until I freeze it,’ Elsa said, and they got back to pretending that the toy swing set was a dragon.

Inside, the mothers were having a bit of an awkward conversation.

‘I feel like… I shouldn’t blame you at all, right?’ Iduna was saying. ‘I know you apologised and everything, but it’s not your fault to begin with. He kept both of us in the dark.’

Mona nodded. ‘I know, but I feel so bad about it,’ she said. ‘So guilty.’ Mona didn’t have a strong German accent, but she had a little bit of one. She had been born in Germany, and moved when she was ten.

‘Honestly, I feel bad about it too,’ Iduna said. ‘Like it was my husband who was taking advantage of us both. As if that’s somehow my responsibility.’

‘Right, but it’s not.’

‘It’s not!’ Iduna nodded. ‘And it’s not your fault even if you are attractive. That’s got nothing to do with me.’

Mona smiled. ‘Thank you. You’re attractive too.’

Iduna didn’t even notice the compliment, really. ‘Thanks. I’m just… still getting over it, I suppose.’

‘Right, and that’s fine,’ Mona said. ‘I would really love for Anna to get to know her sister, but if you need more time for the two of us to get to know each other, that’s totally fine.’

‘Thank you, Mona,’ Iduna said. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be as chill about it as you.’

Mona shook her head. ‘It’s fine, Iduna, really. It’s different for the two of us. You were married to him, and you were together longer.’

Iduna nodded.

When Iduna and Elsa left, Iduna and Mona hugged and promised to stay in touch. Anna and Elsa hugged too. It was nearly a year before they all saw each other again, for Anna’s fifth birthday.

***

Iduna took a lot of time and therapy to get over what had happened with Agnarr, to get over a lot of things. She and Elsa didn’t visit Mona and Anna very often for years, only a few times a year.

They moved into a smaller place, because the big house was hard to pay for on a single wage. And it was certainly a coincidence that it was further way from where Mona and Anna lived.

Elsa and Anna got along pretty well, all things considered. But Elsa had this vague dislike for Mona, who she tended to call Dame Gothel. Mona was more into makeup and nice clothes than Iduna was, and she had nice tastes. She also had a better paying job than Iduna, and could afford nicer things. Still, Elsa had this vague sense like Mona spent money frivolously, because Iduna’s work didn’t pay as well.

But, over the years, Iduna and Elsa visited more often, from a few times a year to once a month, eventually down to once a fortnight by the time Elsa started high-school. Elsa was polite to Mona, of course, and even as she got into her teens she still got along with Anna.

Elsa was a moody teenager, of course: she was a teenager. But she wasn’t exactly a rebellious one. She got along with her mother. She and Iduna had always been close, and it felt to Elsa like they should be closer after her parents’ divorce. And she never really hit the point of ‘I shouldn’t hang out with my cringe little sister’ or anything.

When Elsa was fourteen, Mona and Anna moved much closer to Iduna and Elsa. A month later, Anna started at Elsa’s highschool. This wasn’t a surprise, to be clear. Anna had told Elsa that she wanted to go to the same highschool so that they could see each other more often.

Mona had emailed Iduna before fully deciding on the move:

My dear Iduna,

Anna wants to be closer to Elsa, and since she is starting high school next year, she wants to go to the same high school. I am considering moving to your area so that that will be easier.

I know you didn’t consciously move away from me, after what happened with their father. But I wanted to make sure that you would be alright with us being closer than we have been.

Love,

Mona Gothel

Iduna had immediately written that’s fine. And then she had stopped shy of sending the email to take a few minutes to feel guilty again. It was something that she and Mona had already talked about, something she had already felt guilty about. As much as it hadn’t consciously figured into the decision of where to move to, she was pretty sure it had figured in subconsciously.

Mona,

That would be totally fine. It would be nice, even, for you two to be closer. As we’ve talked about, I am feeling much better about everything these days and I hope you don’t feel like I still want to keep the two of you at arm’s length.

Love,

Iduna

And she really did mean it. Mona knew that Iduna really did mean it. The next time they saw each other, Mona invited Elsa and Iduna to come and look at houses with them for when they moved. Elsa didn’t want to come, but she tagged along and kept a beaming Anna company.

Though Elsa wasn’t an especially surly teen, her vague dislike of Mona got stronger as she got older, even as her mother and Mona got on ever better. She was ruder, but still not so much that Mona felt like she could really do anything about it.

‘I’m just not sure what to do,’ Mona complained to Iduna, at some point. ‘I know she doesn’t like me very much, and she doesn’t have to. But, well… I would prefer if she did, of course.’

Iduna nodded along. ‘I’m not sure either,’ she said. ‘Elsa doesn’t really talk to me about you. I don’t know if it’s fully conscious.’

Since Anna had started at Elsa’s highschool, and since Mona and Anna had moved nearby, Elsa visited far more often. The sisters didn’t spend all that much time together at school, being three years separated, but Elsa visited to spend time with Anna and to help her with school work at such. Sometimes Anna visited Elsa and Iduna, but that was less frequent.

The mothers had hoped that Elsa and Mona would get along better, the more often Elsa was there, but if anything the opposite was true. The more often Elsa saw Mona, the more she seemed to dislike her.

When Iduna asked ‘how do you feel about Mona?’

Elsa replied ‘she’s fine, I guess.’

***

Elsa was sixteen. She was hanging out with Anna, who was recently fourteen at the time. They were on summer break. Mona and Iduna were out seeing a boring film for adults together and for once they hadn’t gotten a babysitter.

‘Elsa, do you have a boyfriend?’ Anna asked.

Elsa blanched. ‘Nope. Gross.’

Anna nodded, contemplatively.

‘Why?’

Anna shrugged. ‘My friend Meg was teasing me cause she and Rap have boyfriends and I don’t.’

Elsa nodded, contemplatively. ‘You want me to fight her for you?’

Anna grinned. ‘No. It’s fine. Just like… I’ve been thinking about it is all.’

‘You don’t have to have a boyfriend if you don’t want to.’

Anna nodded, contemplatively. ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’

Elsa would have spit out her drink if she’d been drinking anything. ‘I don’t, thanks.’

‘Do you want one?’

Elsa coughed. ‘I… I’m fine. I’m not really into the whole romance thing.’

‘You and Honey hang out a lot.’

Elsa shrugged. ‘We’re friends, what do you want?’

Anna sighed. ‘I wanna get kissed. But I don’t want a boyfriend.’

Elsa coughed some more. ‘How about Kristoff? You two get along, right?’

‘He’s totally gay for Honey’s little brother.’

‘True.’

‘Who am I gonna get to kiss me, Elsa?’

Elsa shrugged.

‘You should kiss me.’

Elsa had actually been drinking this time, and she spit it across the table. ‘Huh?’ She started coughing furiously.

Anna shrugged. ‘Someone’s gotta do it.’

‘Do they?’ Elsa falsettoed.

Anna nodded, assertively.

Elsa finished coughing. ‘I have to clean that up.’

Anna sighed her way into the couch. ‘No one wants to kiss me, Elsa,’ she whined. ‘Not even my own sister.’

Elsa laughed, and it was strained. ‘That’s not what sisters are for.’

Anna bolted up and pointed. ‘You said you’d help me with anything, remember?’

‘I meant homework.’

‘Maybe this is homework, you don’t know.’

Elsa laughed, coming back with a sponge. ‘It’s not homework.’

‘You’re so mean to me, Elsa.’

‘I am not.’

‘You’re so mean to mum.’

‘I’m not that mean to Dame Gothel.’ Elsa started wiping down the table.

‘You are too, you never even use her name.’

‘Her name’s Gothel, what do you want?’

‘A kiss.’

‘Will you stop complaining?’

‘I will.’

‘Fine.’ Elsa sighed into the couch beside Anna. ‘Just don’t be weird about it, alright?’

Anna nodded, emphatically. ‘I will not be weird about this particular thing.’

‘And you’ll stop complaining?’

‘For now.’

Elsa narrowed her eyes. ‘At least for tonight.’

Anna nodded some more.

‘Fine, alright.’

‘Ok, thanks, how do we do this?’

‘I don’t know, I’ve never kissed anyone either.’

Anna nodded. ‘Make it up as we go, I hear you.’

Elsa shrugged. ‘Don’t like, go in too hard. I don’t wanna break my nose.’

Anna nodded some more and wriggled around on the couch and suddenly they were both incredibly nervous. The whole thing had basically seemed like a joke until this very moment. All of sudden there was something happening and it felt way more intense than either of the girls had expected.

‘Alright.’ Anna gulped. ‘I’m gonna go for it.’

Elsa nodded and reached up to touch Anna’s face. ‘It’ll be fine.’

That did not help with the nerves at all.

Anna closed her eyes and leaned in, pursing her lips. Elsa closed her eyes too, using her hand on Anna’s face to keep her sister headed in the right direction.

It wasn’t like, a serious kiss, so to speak. It was gentle press of the lips. But it was nice. It was enjoyable. Elsa’s heart was racing. Anna’s heart was racing. They pulled apart again and opened their eyes.

‘Huh,’ Anna said. ‘I get why people keep talking about that.’

Elsa nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess.’

Anna’s face fell. ‘You didn’t like it.’

‘No, no, it’s not that. It was nice. I just… I dunno. Did it live up to expectations?’

Anna pouted. ‘It did for me.’

Elsa, who was usually not sneaky, said: ‘I dunno, maybe we should do it again, just to make sure.’

Anna grinned. ‘Yes, we should.’ She was quicker about it this time. She put her hand on Elsa’s cheek too and she leaned back in.

They closed their eyes and the kiss was a little longer this time. Still just a press of the lips, but it was nice. It was good. Elsa’s heart was absolutely racing in her chest. Anna was calmer about it, which is not so say she wasn’t also freaking out.

They broke apart again. ‘See?’ Anna said, grinning.

‘Yeah, I get it,’ Elsa said. ‘It’s good. It always sounded really overwhelming, I guess. But it’s not. It’s just like… good.’

Anna nodded a bunch. ‘Yeah, good.’

‘Anyway, you should do your homework.’

‘Augh, why you do this to me, Elsa!’ Anna whined.

‘You said you won’t complain.’

‘Fine.’

***

Off at the movies, there was some, semi-similar tension in the air. Which is to say that the film had been good, and emotional. Iduna and Mona had sat next to each other in the cinema, of course, and Mona had taken Iduna’s hand at some point, for comfort.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she whispered, letting go.

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Iduna said, and she did mean it.

Next time Mona had taken Iduna’s hand, she had kept hold of it until the film finished. Iduna had found herself just a little distracted. Not much, of course, the movie was quite good. She’d gotten to thinking about why Elsa didn’t like Mona.

Some time ago, she’d asked Elsa: ‘why do you call her Dame Gothel?’

Elsa had shrugged. ‘She’s always wearing makeup and fancy clothes. She’s just fancy, I guess.’ It hadn’t been a compliment.

And there was some truth to that, Iduna supposed. Mona dressed nicely and wore more makeup more often than Iduna did. But Iduna thought she looked nice, well put together. She looked good.

After the film, the two of them got something to eat. It was getting a bit late, so they didn’t plan to stay long, but they got to chatting while they waited for the food to be brought out.

‘This has been really nice, Iduna,’ Mona said. ‘I’m so happy you agreed to come out with me.’

‘Of course.’

‘Not that I don’t love my daughter,’ Mona smiled. ‘But it’s nice to have a break from time to time.’

‘Agreed,’ Iduna said. ‘It’s nice that you live close now, Elsa can just wander over. I suppose that’s not as much a break for you as it is for me.’

‘Maybe I should send Anna over to your place more often,’ she said, still smiling. ‘But it’s also nice that Elsa’s a bit older, and quite responsible. It means we can take breaks like this, let the girls watch each other.’

Iduna nodded. ‘You’re right about that,’ she said. ‘And we’d be happy to have Anna, if you’re comfortable sending her over.’

‘Of course I’m comfortable sending her over. It’s a short walk, after all. And she is fourteen.’

Iduna nodded, and the conversation lulled as the food was brought out.

‘And we could go out together more often,’ Mona said, delicately eating a forkful of salad. ‘This has been really nice. And it’s nice to go out with a fellow adult. Some of the movies Anna wants to go to are quite fun, but it’s not quite the same.’

Iduna nodded. ‘You don’t have many other friends, then?’

Mona shrugged. ‘It’s not that,’ she said. ‘That’s why I send Anna over to your place. It’s just… and I know it was hard, and it was unpleasant, but we have this shared trauma, I suppose. None of my friends also had a secret family with Agnarr.’

Iduna forced a little laugh. ‘I certainly hope not.’

Mona nodded. ‘I think it would be nice to spend more quality time together, is all.’

‘I agree. It would be nice.’ Iduna said, and she meant it. She was also feeling slightly too aware of Mona’s red lipstick right at that moment.

***

In a surprise twist, Elsa took after Iduna and Anna took after Mona. Which is to say that in the same way that Iduna wasn’t a very romantic sort of person, Elsa wasn’t either. Mona was more of a romantic sort, and so was Anna. It’s fair to say that Anna was generally more enthusiastic than anyone in this little disaster of a family.

A series of things started changing as Elsa hit her second last year of highschool. Now that she was sixteen, Mona felt comfortable leaving her and Anna alone together for longer amounts of time. And as Mona and Iduna were comfortable with that situation, they started going out together more often.

It would be unfair to say that Mona and Iduna were doing anything similar to Elsa and Anna. Mona and Iduna were adults, for one. They were notably traumatised from past romantic experience, even a decade of therapy later. And they weren’t related to each other by blood.

They also didn’t kiss as quickly.

Here’s where the chart of who in the family was most romantic, and most enthusiastic, becomes relevant. Anna and Elsa kissed again before highschool started back up.

‘I just…’ Elsa said, a little red in the face and not wanting to have this conversation at all. ‘We’re sisters.’

‘Half-sisters.’

‘Ok, so I’m only half as concerned about it,’ Elsa said. ‘But still… you know?’

Anna pouted. ‘Sure, but like, does it even matter?’

‘It totally matters.’

‘Why?’

‘We’re sisters!’

‘So?’

Elsa was flummoxed, she was flustered. She wanted to kiss Anna again. ‘It’s like… a whole thing, right?’

Anna shrugged. ‘We can’t have kids.’

‘I… but…’

Anna pouted. ‘Does this mean you don’t want to kiss me anymore?’

‘I…’ Elsa ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. ‘It means I want to think about it for a bit.’

Anna nodded a few times. ‘What if I gave you flowers?’

Elsa frowned at her. ‘What difference does that make?’

‘Idiot, you get flowers for people you like and want to kiss.’

Elsa giggled. ‘I’m not huge on flowers, I get hay fever from living ones sometimes.’

‘Chocolates?’

‘Ok, fine.’ Elsa gave Anna a hug. ‘Gimme a bit to think about it, and get me some chocolates. I’ll wait for you here.’

Anna nodded, gave Elsa a squeeze, and got up to go and make some chocolate-coated strawberries while Elsa sat on the couch and wondered if it was actually that big a deal to kiss your half-sister.

If they were full sisters, that would be gross.

When Anna came back with slightly streaky, chocolate-coated strawberries, Elsa gave her a quick kiss for the effort and Anna spent the rest of the evening beaming, stealing kisses, and being fed strawberries.

Iduna and Mona moved way more slowly. It took fully three months for something to actually happen between the two of them. Both Iduna and Mona had found themselves thinking about the other more often. Iduna noticed her physical attraction first, and decided to give it some consideration first.

Mona gave it less consideration.

The two of them were out to dinner at a nice little Ethiopian restaurant, Iduna was struggling with the curry and Mona blurted out ‘You’re so pretty when you’re flustered.’

This did not make Iduna less flustered. ‘Um… I…. thanks.’

Mona put a hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,’ she said. ‘I meant it, though.’

This continued not to make Iduna less flustered. ‘Thanks, again,’ she said, taking a deep breath and drinking some water. ‘You’re quite pretty yourself, and infuriatingly composed.’

Mona laughed and blushed at the same time. ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she said.

They ate together quietly for a bit, Mona smiling and Iduna continuing to struggle with the spice.

‘I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Iduna,’ Mona said at length, leaning in to speak a little quieter. ‘But I find myself thinking about you more often lately, how kind and patient you are, and how pretty.’

Iduna froze where she was. If she wasn’t already flushed, she would have blushed even harder. ‘Thanks,’ was all she could think to say. She had a drink. ‘I’ve um… been noticing the same. That you’re really pretty, I mean, not about me.’

Mona put her hand on Iduna’s where it rested on the table. ‘I’m happy to hear it,’ she said. ‘It might be a little awkward for the girls, mind.’

Iduna blinked at her and took a solid couple of seconds to work out what Mona meant. ‘Oh? You mean?’ She pointed to herself. ‘You’d want to? With me?’

Mona smiled, and nodded. ‘I know it will sound strange coming from me, Iduna,’ she said. ‘But I’m so impressed by you. How you’ve handled suddenly being a single mother. How you handled… the whole thing with Agnarr. How you tried to put Elsa first to spend time with us, even though it made you uncomfortable. And to top all that off, you’re wonderfully creative and quite good looking.’

Uduna blushed, noticeably. ‘I… it does sound a bit strange, I suppose,’ she said. ‘But thank you. I know I was a bit difficult, early on, and I really appreciate your patience about it. And I feel the same, you know? Your ability to be a mother, to put up with Elsa, to keep yourself so together. It’s all so impressive. And you are, also, quite good looking.’

Mona grinned. ‘This is the part where we kiss, by the way.’

Iduna spluttered. ‘I would die. Your curry is spicier than mine.’

Mona laughed. ‘Later.’

‘Sure.’

And they did kiss later, in Mona’s car, on the side of the road, around the corner from Mona’s house. It wasn’t quite a chaste kiss, but it wasn’t so unchaste. Iduna checked herself in the passenger mirror to make sure that she didn’t have Mona’s red lipstick on her mouth, smiled, squeezed Mona’s hand, and took Elsa home.

***

It took four more months for Iduna and Mona to officially tell their daughters that they were dating. The four of them were over at Mona’s place having dinner together as whatever weird approximation of a family they were. It wasn’t the most common occurrence, but it didn’t ring alarm bells immediately.

What rang alarm bells, though, was they way Iduna and Mona kept glancing at each other and looking swiftly away and smiling. Elsa was no less observant than she had been as a child, even as stuffed full of teenaged angst as she was.

‘Girls,’ Iduna said, once the food had been finished. ‘Mona and I have something we need to tell you.’ And Iduna reached out her hand and Mona took it.

Elsa’s angsty little brain went ‘ah’ and she bolted out of her seat, almost knocking her chair over. ‘You’re not!’ she insisted. ‘With her? After… after…’ and Elsa stormed out before saying something that even she thought would be dumb.

The front door slammed. The rest of the table sat there in stunned silence for those awkward, long seconds that you have to sit there in stunned silence. Anna was first to react.

Anna bolted up, managed to catch the back of her chair before it went flying, gave a weird half-bow, half-nod to the mothers and hurried out of the room. Then she poked her head back in.

‘I’m happy for you two,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see you getting back into the whole romance thing after what happened. I think you make a cute couple. I’m not at all worried about the queerness of this situation. I’m gonna go grab Elsa.’

Iduna and Mona looked at each other for a moment. ‘Honestly? That’s what I expected to happen,’ Mona said.

‘Including the storming out?’

‘Alright, that was a bit stronger than I expected.’

Elsa was sitting on the front step of the house, staring intently into the distance as if she might find some nothing to stare at. She was taking deep breaths, her eyes were glassy, her fists were clenched in her lap.

‘Elsa?’ Anna tried, sitting next to her sister and leaning against her.

Elsa stiffened, then leaned against her sister. ‘You ever have the sudden realisation that you are, in fact, an absolute dickhead?’

‘Never.’

Elsa smiled vaguely into the distance. ‘I’m having a bit of that right now.’

‘Tell me.’

Elsa sat up enough to check the front windows for observers. Iduna and Mona were still at the dining table, having decided not to eavesdrop. So Elsa kissed Anna right on the lips and she felt better for it.

‘I’m stupid is all,’ she said.

‘Tell me,’ Anna whined, similarly checking for observers before kissing Elsa back. ‘So I can avoid your mistakes.’

‘You know how I hate your mum?’

‘I do.’

‘You’re supposed to say you didn’t notice.’

‘After pestering you for years? Not likely.’

Elsa sighed, checked the windows again, kissed Anna again. ‘Well it’s for stupid, foolish, arsehole reasons.’

Anna nodded. ‘I assume so.’

Elsa did that little huff that’s like a laugh but not quite. ‘So, you know how we’re sisters?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know how we have the same dad?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well I’m just realising that I kinda blamed your mum for like, stealing him, this whole time. And like, therefor, for causing all the fuckery in me and mum’s lives.’

Anna nodded. ‘You’re right, that’s dumb as hell.’

‘I know,’ Elsa whined, leaning on Anna’s shoulder. ‘No one actually wants Agnarr, he’s like a fungus or something. He turns up and you can’t get rid of him until everyone’s sick.’

‘Mould.’

‘Yeah, you get it.’

‘I do.’ Anna nodded sagely.

‘Do you take me to be your lawfully wedded bride?’

‘Nope, that’s illegal.’

‘Do you take me to be your unlawfully wedded bride?’ Elsa wiggled her eyebrows.

‘I do.’

‘Good.’

‘Good.’

They kissed again, after checking the window, a little longer this time.

‘Now you have to go apologise to everyone, especially mum,’ Anna said.

‘Shit, I was hoping to get out of that part.’

‘Nope.’

Back at the kitchen table, Iduna was vaguely craning her neck as if she could get a look out the closed curtains or door in the next room. ‘Do you think we should go and check on them?’ she asked.

‘No, they’re smart kids,’ Mona said. ‘I’m sure everything’s going well.’

‘Or they’ve run off together.’

Mona nodded. ‘Or they’ve run off together to, um… Spain, to get married and never see us again.’

‘Why married?’

‘I was just adding to the story.’

Elsa and Anna returned, holding hands, interrupting before more could be added to the story.

‘Mona, and mum I guess, but more Mona,’ Elsa said. ‘I need to apologise.’

‘Oh, you don’t…’ Mona let her deflection trail off.

‘I really do,’ Elsa said. ‘I’ve been pretty rude to you for years, and all for pretty stupid reasons.’

‘Really stupid,’ Anna chimed in.

‘Oh, Elsa, I’m sure it’s not stupid,’ Mona said, in that mum voice where she meant it but she was very ready to be proven wrong.

‘I think I’ve been blaming you all this time for the pain of what Agnarr did to us,’ Elsa said, pointing between herself and Iduna. ‘And seeing mum and you get closer, I was just… I guess I was worried that somehow you would hurt her again, when you weren’t even the one who hurt her in the first place.’

Mona nodded along.

‘So, again, I’m really sorry, and I’ll pack it in from now on.’

Mona nodded. ‘Pack it in?’

‘She’ll stop being so rude,’ Iduna said.

Elsa shrugged. ‘I’m still a teenager.’

‘She’ll stop being as rude,’ Anna said, elbowing her sister.

***

Elsa was eighteen, it was somewhere between Anna’s sixteenth birthday on the summer solstice and christmas. They were at Iduna and Elsa’s place, cuddling on the couch and playing games. It was mid-afternoon, Iduna and Mona were on a date.

To say they were playing games was a bit charitable. They had been playing games. Then they had been cuddling and kind of playing games. Then they had been cuddling. Now things were getting beyond cuddling. Things were getting heated, but not quite so heated that the sisters felt the need to abandon the living room. The curtains were shut anyway.

The sound on the television wasn’t turned up all that high, but it was turned up high enough that Anna and Elsa, heavily making out on the couch, didn’t hear the sound of Mona’s hybrid car pulling into the driveway. They didn’t hear footsteps coming up the path. And they certainly didn’t hear the door open.

What they did hear was a ‘this is certainly unexpected’ from Iduna.

‘Is it though?’ Mona said.

Very like teenagers who had been caught making out on the couch by their parents, Elsa and Anna froze for a moment and scrambled to a much more respectable distance.

‘I… um…’ Elsa had been about to say ‘it isn’t what it looks like’, but there was really no selling that.

Iduna closed the door behind her. ‘This is, um…’ she said. Then she walked across the living room and sat down in one of the plush chairs. ‘This is a thing, I think.’

Mona sat down on the arm of the chair and put a hand on Iduna’s shoulder. ‘We can be calm, dear.’

Iduna nodded. ‘I’m calm, I’m just also shocked.’

Neither Elsa nor Anna was making eye-contact with anyone.

‘So, how long has this been going on?’ Mona asked, voice gentle.

‘Um…’ Elsa didn’t want to say.

‘Since like, a few months before you two started dating,’ Anna said, blushing and continuing not to make eye-contact with anyone.

Mona burst out laughing and Iduna frowned up at her. ‘Sorry, darling, it’s just… they’ve been together longer than us,’ Mona laughed.

‘I don’t see why that’s funny, to be honest,’ Iduna said. ‘But I suppose it does complicate things. Let’s start at the start, you two are sisters.’

Elsa and Anna nodded.

‘Sisters aren’t really supposed to date each other.’

Anna shrugged. ‘I don’t see the problem.’

Mona, who had mostly calmed down, blurt-laughed.

‘I…’ Iduna rubbed her nose. ‘I assume it’s illegal?’

‘Definitely,’ Anna said.

Elsa figured she had the gist of Anna’s approach. ‘Does that matter? Lots of things are illegal. Illegal and wrong aren’t the same thing.’

‘She’s got you there,’ Mona said. ‘But, an important question. How did this all start?’

‘I tricked her into kissing me,’ Anna said, immediately.

‘Tricked is strong,’ Elsa said.

‘I was all like “Elsa, I’ve never been kissed and I feel insecure”, and then I kissed her.’

‘And it was nice, and it happened again and now we’re here.’

‘We certainly are here,’ Iduna said.

Iduna and Mona looked at each other for a few seconds. Mona shrugged. Iduna shrugged.

‘Whatever, I guess,’ Iduna said. ‘It seems a bit weird, but like, us is also weird.’ She waved between herself and Mona.

‘It’s fun to explain to people, though,’ Mona said.

‘That’s an important caveat that I probably don’t need to mention,’ Iduna said. ‘Don’t talk to people about it, right? It’s illegal.’

‘Yeah, we’ve been… together for like two years and you never noticed,’ Anna said. ‘I’m great at secrets.’

‘You’re great at one secret,’ Elsa said.

‘That’s enough.’

‘It is a bit of a relief though,’ Anna said. ‘To worry a bit less about you two finding out.’

Mona shrugged.

Iduna shrugged.

‘So, we’ll go back to making out, then?’ Anna said.

Mona cracked up.

‘At least let us leave the room first,’ Iduna said, dragging Mona toward the back yard.

[stxvercgersslut]

Soon to be the four of us

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Note: So I decided to make another part since my first part went well. Please feel free to reblog and like my content if you enjoy it as much as I love writing them. Hopefully I will still continue to write imagines for as long as I physically can. It is nearly my summer holiday so son I will have loads more time to write. If you have any requests please let me know.

Description: Chris and Y/N are unfortunately separated during the events of lock down. All they have is facetime, calls and the occasional text message. Surely nothing could happen. Continuation of surprise

“Morning beautiful, Maisie and I miss you so so much.” Chris’s voice boomed through the small bedroom, in your temporary apartment which just so happened to be in London, as his face popped up on the screen. The wide smile on his face indicated that he was more than excited to see his gorgeous wife. Even if it was just through his iPhone screen, he’d much prefer to be able to actually be able to hold you close right now, but at least he got to see you.  From the looks of it Chris seemed to be in the conservatory with your little girl sitting on his lap staring at the screen completely confused with how her mommy got into such a tiny screen since she was babbling and giggling as she tried grabbing the screen. “Morning handsome, and morning princess. I miss you guys too but isn’t it like 5 am in Boston right now? Why are you up already” you asked curiously whilst you stared into the phone screen longing to just wrap your arms around the both of them.

Around two weeks before lock down a huge company had gotten in touch with you through email informing you of a huge opportunity to be the makeup artist for their models. Of course considering that this was the biggest opportunity that you had ever managed to get, you instantly snapped it up. Yes it meant Six weeks away from your family but you couldn’t just say no. But what you hadn’t exactly expected was to get stuck in London this year, or ever actually. But what made it worse was the fact that you were separated from your loved ones, Chris and your 2 year old little girl Maisie. Of course no one could do anything about the situation due to the fact that this was out of everyone’s hands. All anyone could do was just play the waiting game and wait for everything to just die down (Which was highly unlikely given that stupid people still weren’t abiding to the rules and just going out gallivanting despite a deadly virus circling the world.)  But you muddled through. Even if you didn’t get to see your family for longer than expected but what could you do? It was just a waiting game now.

Chris laughed softly as he nodded towards the first part of your question, holding Maisie close to his chest before finally speaking “well...yes it’s quite early but this little one wanted to talk to momma early, she hasn’t been sleeping very well since you’ve been gone baby. Plus I really wanted to see your face” he admitted, that wide smile only causing your desire to be back in his arms to worsen.

It was most certainly difficult to be away from the one that you loved so dearly for so long. Especially since Lockdown had literally torn the pair of you apart for what felt like months on end, when in reality it had only been 8 weeks. 8 weeks too long. But what hurt more was that you had no idea when you’d be coming home. Or if you’d ever be able to see your family again at this rate. With Covid killing more people then the average flu each year it was way too hard to tell. But you knew one day you’d see them, it was unfortunately just a matter of waiting it out until something happened.

At some point you’d seemed to zone out everything around you, just focusing on your beautiful little girl sitting on Chris’s lap. Who, as of right that second, was yanking at Chris’s now beard that he has grown out specially for Defending Jacob. Of course your husband was attempting to gently swat her hands away every so often but it didn’t help, she just kept trying. And just the sight of it was enough to make you laugh happily, causing Chris to give you a slightly stern look of confusion since laughing at the situation would just wake it worse. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. Just looking at him made your heart melt, but seeing the scene play out just made you laugh.

“I miss you guys. I just wish that we could be together right now. It’s not fair” you whined, watching as Maisie calmed down and stoped pulling at Chris’s beard.

Chris let out a mighty long loud sigh as he listened to your words. Feeling tears fill in his eyes from how badly he actually seemed to miss you. It had been 8 weeks already and all he longed for was to have you back in his arms yet he couldn’t have that. “We miss you too darling. But I’m sure we’ll be together again soon just us okay? We just have to wait until you are allowed to fly again” he mumbled, still hurt by all of this but he tried not to say anything.

“But in a few months I won’t be able to fly. Baby number two will stop me” the words slipped from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, leaving you and Chris Speechless whilst Maisie giggled in the background. Great yet another surprise pregnancy ruined by your big mouth! Maybe you weren’t so good at keeping thing from Chris.

It was a gruelling 6 minutes later that Chris finally found the strength to speak, still shocked from this sudden revelation. “Baby number two? Y—your pregnant again?...W—hen did you find out?” He asked, tears of joy trickling down his cheeks as he impatiently waited for your reply.

“Yeah......I found out yesterday afternoon before you called....it was supposed to be a surprise yet me and my big mouth ruined it for the second time!” You whined, feeling stupid for not being able to keep it secret.

“Baby....I’m not angry. In fact I’m really happy that you told me”

“You are?”

“Yeah of course I am y/n. Why wouldn’t I be? We wanted another kid anyway.”

“I know but.....I ruined the surprise once again” you stated, still extremely embarrassed by your reveal.

“Well at least this time you didn’t reveal you were pregnant over live television so count yourself lucky we got to have this” he joked, causing the both of you to laugh.

“I love you” you spoke through your happy tears.

“I love you too baby”

Tag list: @jtargaryen18 @et-lesailes @chuckbass-love @cevans-fics

[degrassi-fanatic]

Hey babie,would you like to write some hotchreid fic about "choose reid over haley",like after hotch divorce,he always deny his feelings about reid,but when some unsub mentions about "the one you most care about is in danger ",he try to save reid but the one exactly in danger is haley.And after these there will be hurt/comfort thing and happy ending...I don’t know if I’m asking too much ,just wanna say I enjoy your hotchreid fics so much.Anyway wish you have a good day!!Love you!!

thank you for sending an ask !!! ily 

i changed up the prompt a bit because i personally do think, even as a hotchreid shipper, that hotch cared a lot about haley and loved her till the end. so i replaced haley in this prompt with kate joyner instead

hope you like it !!

Having just returned from their latest crime scene, Hotch wracks his brain around for any theories on their latest unsub as he steps out of the driver’s side of the SUV. 

The BAU team had been sent out to the FBI Office in New York at the request of Agent Kate Joyner to assist with a case involving the abduction and subsequent murder of federal agents. Their unsub somehow managed to pluck highly intelligent and capable agents off the street and lure them away to a secondary location where he would riddle them with bullets, only to bring their corpses back to the city and leave them strung up in areas with high foot traffic; all without being seen. 

It was no surprise that Kate had decided to amass as many resources as possible, she had even created an FBI-NYPD task force. This case was going nowhere and their volume of victims was only increasing as time went on. 

He knows he’s not the only one desperately hoping that they’ll get any sort of lead soon. 

As Hotch makes his way towards the glass doors of the New York FBI office, he feels his cellphone vibrate in the pocket of his suit jacket. Without looking at the caller ID, he assumes it’s one of his team members and accepts the call.

Before he can greet whoever it is on the other line, a gravelly voice begins speaking, one he does not recognize.

“Agent Hotchner.” the unknown man says. 

“Yes, who is this?”

“Oh, me?” he asks flippantly, “Who I am doesn’t matter right now. It’s what I have, or rather who I have.”

In the middle of the sidewalk just outside the office, Hotch stops in his tracks; ignoring all the passive aggressive looks sent his way as people wade around him and the occasional shove against his shoulder. 

“Excuse me?”

“Did you really think you could come after me and not suffer the consequences?” the man sneers through the phone, “You’re going to regret coming to New York.”

“Who do you have?” he asks, not caring for any of the vague threats the man was sending his way. 

“The one you care for the most.”

His stomach drops and immediately, Hotch tries to remember the last time he called Reid, the last time he saw him, and for some reason both instances seem so long ago that he wonders if Reid hasn’t already been shot yet. 

“Goodbye, Agent Hotchner.” the man says.

And with that, he hangs up and the call ends. 

For a moment, his feet stay planted where they are against the pavement and he cannot move. 

Then, it feels as though someone has dragged his head under freezing water and he begins racing into the office; darting past everyone as he makes his way towards the board room where they had been instructed to use as their home base. 

As he makes it to the door, his eyes survey the room frantically as he checks to see if anyone else is missing; Rossi is arguing with Prentiss over something trivial, JJ is flipping through case files with Morgan, Garcia has her laptop opened in front of her and is typing away, and…

Reid.

Reid is there, staring at the crime scene board as he pushes his thumb between his lips in deep thought. 

“Spencer!” he calls out as he rushes over to him, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

He watches Reid twist around to look at him, a confused expression spreading across the features of his face. The only expression only grows as Hotch rushes over to him, dragging him into a tight hug. It’s a tad bit awkward at first as Reid’s arms are squished between their chests and his whole body has grown stiff but he cannot bring himself to care about that because he has Reid warm and alive in his arms. 

It only gets better once Reid retracts his arms from between them to wrap around Hotch’s back as he returns the embrace.

Reid was okay, he realizes as he pushes his face into Reid’s hair, ignoring the tickling sensation caused by his tousled tufts.

He was fine. 

“I thought you were… Thank God that you’re alright.” he says breathlessly as he pulls away, “But, the unsub, he said on the phone that—”

Wait, if Reid wasn’t the one the unsub had abducted, then who was? It couldn’t have been anyone from his team since they were all here and accounted for. Perhaps, the man had gotten a hold of the wrong agent’s phone number or maybe he had simply…

Oh no, Hotch thinks as dread pools somewhere deep inside of him.

“Where’s Kate?” 

“We thought she was with you.” 

It had taken them a couple of gruelling hours but eventually they had managed to figure out where their unsub, who they discovered to be thirty-three year old Peter Samuels, was holding Kate captive. Although Samuels was clearly a man with an above average level of intelligence, he was clearly lacking when it came to fighting and was overpowered by Prentiss and Morgan within minutes. 

In the end, Kate was alright. A bit bruised and a little worse for wear than Hotch would have preferred but she was alive and that’s what mattered. He was still rather reluctant leaving her so soon after such a traumatic event and would have stayed in New York for a bit longer but Kate had all but shooed him off, stating that she didn’t need him coddling her for her entire leave. 

Now, the team is back on board the jet and well on their way back home. It’s dark outside the windows and the cabin lights have been dimmed. The team, with the exception of Reid and Hotch, are fast asleep in their own seats; the exhaustion of the last couple of days finally catching up to them. 

Hotch fishes his cellphone out of his pocket and pulls up Kate’s contact information; she never explicitly stated if texting was considered coddling. 

“Is Agent Joyner going to be alright?” Reid whispers from beside him, in an effort to not wake the others.

“Yeah,” he answers as he finishes sending a message, “It’s going to take some time but she’ll recover.”

“That’s good.” Reid murmurs. 

Hotch makes a soft noise in agreement as he tucks in his cellphone back into his pocket. Shifting around in his seat as quietly as he can, he attempts to get into a comfortable position so he too can rest up before they land; he ends up sinking into his chair with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes closed. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Reid pipes up again. 

“Sure.” he mumbles back. 

“Why did you think I was the one Samuels took?” 

For a brief moment, Hotch considers feigning sleep but, then Reid is gently shaking his arm to gather his attention once more. 

“Hotch?” he whispers, “Aaron?”

“It’s something he said on the phone.” he admits quietly, “He said he took the one I cared for the most.”

“Oh.”

The hand on his bicep falls away and the absence of it feels like a gaping wound. 

Right away, Hotch is opening his eyes and sitting up right. 

“I’m sorry.” he says frantically, “I know this is inappropriate and you’re probably uncomfortable—”

Oh God, why did Hotch say that? Maybe he could blame it on a lack of sleep? Or he could say he misspoke somehow?

“No, wait, listen—” 

He wouldn’t fault Reid if he wanted to file a complaint against him for inappropriate advances or some other form of misconduct. Any formal punishment was far better than the torture he would endure if the rest of the team learned that he was preying on their youngest member. 

“I completely understand if you want to file a complaint—”

“Hotch, that’s the last thing—”

Now, Reid will most likely want to transfer out of the BAU. Who wouldn’t after learning their boss had more-than platonic feelings for them? No, he couldn’t do that to Reid. He knows how much the BAU means to the other man; he’ll be the one to leave. 

“It probably disturbs you to be on the receiving end of my feelings.” Hotch says “I know I’m old and I’m not enjoyable to be around and that I come with far too much—”

Before he can get another word out, he feels a pair of hands fly to both sides of Hotch’s face, followed by a pair of lips slotting between his own. 

It takes a second for his brain and body to realize what’s going on but, once he does, he reels Reid in closer; practically pulling the other man into his lap. 

Far too soon for his liking, however, Reid pulls his mouth away. 

“Hmm?” Hotch hums questioningly, his eyes still closed. 

“I care for you too.” Reid whispers. 

“That’s nice.”

“That’s all you have to say?” he questions, his breath fanning out over Hotch’s mouth.

“Sorry, my brain is coming back online.”

Hotch hears him let out a soft laugh and that alone is incentive enough to finally open his eyes again. He’s greeted by the sight of Reid smiling in the feeble lighting of the cabin, his lips glistening with spit and a faint flush across his cheeks that is almost undetectable with how dark it is. 

“Well, when it does,” Reid says fondly, “Tell it to ask me out on a date.”

“Will do.”

[hexusproductions]

Foxglove and Milo

Summary: Foxglove and Milo are two souls trapped in a pocket dimension, stuck in an endless time loop of survival and regeneration. Caught by Foxglove once again, Milo wonders why the guy hasn’t just killed him already.

Author’s Note: First full story for my horror OC Foxglove and his ‘survivor’ counterpart Milo! Very happy to get back into the swing of writing again. Trigger warnings for drugging, hallucinations, heavy physical scarring, violence/murder and character death.

The landscape was unrestrained nature as far as the eye could see. A mix of sparse trees and green-land, remains of structures that had fallen into ruin, and a graveyard with headstones jutting out from the earth. It was completely barren of people, minus two exceptions.

“How long are you keeping me here?” Milo complained, coughing under his breath. He was sitting in a cold patch of grass, propped against a stretcher bed. A few metres away, Foxglove was sitting on a wooden stool. The beak of his mask turned to look at Milo.

“What…? What do you mean...?” The question came partially muffled through the mask, the voice raspy and strained. Milo lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He paused before answering, looking around at their surroundings. Foxglove’s (home? Living quarters?) of whatever time loop dimension the two of them were stuck in, consisted of a caravan sunk into the ground. The roof and one side were ripped out, exposing its insides like a scavenged corpse. It contained all of Foxglove’s belongings, including Foxglove himself, and the stretcher bed Milo was currently slumped against.

“I mean here.” Milo continued, looking back to Foxglove. “You’ve won, you caught me. Congratulations. Now either kill me or let me go.” Foxglove’s head tilted to the side, considering Milo’s question now that he knew its meaning. Milo coughed again, spitting out a string of spittle from his lips. Foxglove’s living quarters were covered in the same fog as the rest of the endless landscape; a troublesome sweet-smelling mist that rolled low across the floor, wafting around moving calves and trying to reach open noses and mouths. It followed Foxglove around everywhere, spilling from the censer hanging from his staff. That same staff was currently standing against the still-intact wall, beside Foxglove’s foot.

“No…” Foxglove went back to the bowl in his hands, crushing and mixing various plant matter together. Milo’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“What’s the point of keeping me around?” He insisted, “You know as well as I do that it won’t be permanent. Nothing is.” Foxglove nodded, adding water from a glass bottle to the bowl of plant matter before setting both items carefully on the ground. Milo sighed, more of that lingering fog filling his lungs. He was starting to lose feeling in his feet and fingers. He slumped a little further against the stretcher, and he heard a quiet, amused chuckle behind the mask. “What?” 

Foxglove reached out and grasped his staff, using it as support to pull himself to his feet. The censer swung with every movement, disturbed and spilling out more of that damned herbalist’s concoction. He crossed the small space of the caravan, approaching where Milo sat. Foxglove was not an imposing man by physicality; even after years without any hard labour, Milo was still much stronger and broader in the shoulder than Foxglove was, and had been at least a little above average in the looks department in his old town. Yet as Foxglove stood over Milo, staring behind the black, unfeeling lenses of his bird-shaped mask, Milo shrunk underneath him.

“It won’t be long now…” Foxglove told him. He eased down slowly to a kneel, tilting Milo’s chin with a crooked finger before angling the staff down closer towards Milo’s face. “You’ll be gone soon enough...just wait…” Milo’s lip curled. He tried to inch further away from Foxglove, and he managed to make it a short distance despite the steadily spreading numbness in his limbs. Foxglove just watched him, leaning forward with interest, as if enjoying Milo’s reaction. Milo wasn’t sure which reaction was more intriguing - his response to the potion, or his slow, impending death.

“Crushing me would be faster.” Milo remarked. He launched into another coughing fit as Foxglove stood up again; wincing from a twinge of pain on the way up, but making it to his full height nevertheless. Milo squinted, shaking his head to try and clear his vision. Foxglove’s form was becoming blurry, shimmering into the dull black feathers of an avian beast. Its spine slouched, humanoid but with wings instead of arms, brandishing claws and talons designed for tearing flesh.

“Maybe.” A jagged beak croaked, before it turned back into just a mask. Foxglove shifted, inhaling a sharp intake of breath, and then walked over to the stretcher, sitting on its surface. Milo had lost track of how long Foxglove had been standing there before answering, too distracted by the monster that had briefly appeared in front of him.

“The hallucinations are starting again.” He deadpanned, only now realising that his face had become squashed against the stretcher’s metal frame.

“Good...” Foxglove replied. He patted Milo’s shoulder, then let the hand fall into his own lap.

Milo had become increasingly more familiar with the process of Foxglove’s preferred concoctions, after being trapped with the man for an eternity. It was an endless loop of Foxglove hunting Milo down and killing him. The methods varied, but the end result was almost always the same. Even when Milo had managed to escape Foxglove, he had never found a way out of this little piece of the world - a world. It had taken a long and gruelling amount of retries to find Foxglove’s caravan, and even longer to regularly visit without getting his skull caved in.

The skull-caver in question was still just sitting there, perched motionless on his bed as the staff kept drizzling poison around them. Summoning his will, Milo squirmed and struggled, trying to prop himself up. The hand he placed down slipped on the earth and he went tumbling backwards, his upper half falling out of the boundary of the caravan and onto the surrounding grass. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and the sharp intake that followed caused Milo to cough and retch on his own saliva. Once he had stopped choking, Milo’s eyes rolled upwards, the back of his head dragging against the ground as he looked at his close surroundings.

“...Is that Mary’s place? Over there?” Milo questioned, voice raising in realisation. He looked down; he could see all of Foxglove’s backside from here. His entire body was covered from head to toe in black and green cloth. He must have removed his mask while Milo wasn’t looking, because it now sat in the palm of his free hand.

“Over there.” Milo repeated. He tried to gesture, but his arms fell limp at his sides. His vision was going blurry again as Foxglove looked over his shoulder in the direction Milo had indicated. “I don’t know...I didn’t know her.” Foxglove replied, and turned back around. Milo stared at the fallen stone wall, upside-down from his point of view, before his mouth twisted down into a frown.

“Right…” He agreed quietly, before addressing Foxglove again, “Except you killed her.” Foxglove remained still, not even stirring at Milo’s accusation. Milo had gotten all this tears and cursing out years ago, but the memories still tied a knot in his stomach.

“Was that really necessary?” Milo sighed, looking at Foxglove’s back, “Did you ever consider another option?”

“Necessary?” Foxglove hissed. His grip tightened on the staff and he shoved the mask onto the bed, shooting to his feet. He approached stiffly around and out of the caravan, coming quickly towards Milo. Milo, eyes widening, tried to drag himself backwards, but his body was failing him, slipping uselessly.

“Was this necessary? Was this your town’s only option?” Foxglove’s boot pressed down on Milo’s thigh, keeping him in place. Milo stared as Foxglove threw the staff down beside him, crouching down and gripping Milo by the shirt, wrenching him upwards. “Did I deserve this?” Patchwork strands of dark hair fell out from beneath the snug inner hood of Foxglove’s clothing, partially obscuring his real face. Pale dead eyes were flooded with anger and hatred. Splotches of his pale skin were mottled with burnt scar tissue, completely surrounding the left side of his face and poking out from beneath his collar. “All of you voted to have me die at the stake. Did I deserve to be murdered?” Milo’s tongue twitched uselessly in his mouth, any response unable to escape his throat. Foxglove’s clenched fists were shaking, his normally slow tone instead clipped and venomous. His lips were twisted in a snarl as he yanked Milo closer towards his face, making sure it was all Milo could see. “Are you happy now? Did this help you when you all decided I couldn’t?” Foxglove’s voice cracked, and he threw Milo down against the dirt. Milo sank beneath the top of the fog, engulfed by it. He tried to breathe fresh air into his lungs, the intake coming in a wheeze. It was becoming hard to focus, but he managed to recognise the sudden grip around his jaw, prying it open.

“Here. Breathe deep.” The bird-creature’s voice ordered. His other hand tangled in Milo’s hair, wrenching his head back from the opposite end, so it was impossible not to inhale the dense toxin. “Maybe this dosage will cure your ailment.” Milo’s eyes were watery and bulging as they stared at Foxglove; he tried desperately to struggle, to speak, to do anything. Foxglove, or the creature, its own pale eyes were burning into him, watching his vision tunnel. His lungs were burning, and the numbness was replaced by a warmth, spreading across the rest of his body and torturously pleasant and welcoming. The grip on his jaw and in his hair remained like a vice. Milo looked up to the sky above them, the dark sky with barely a star in sight. He heard the garbled choking sounds from his own throat as his vision gave out, the warmth overtaking him, and he felt himself fading, falling into the sensation. The very last thing he could feel was his lungs screaming for oxygen as he slipped from the world once more, as he had over and over again for centuries.

[pistachoz]

legally blonde, tenth doctor

pairing: tenth doctor x fem!reader

synopsis: between trips and adventures with the doctor, you finally find the perfect timing to change your look. with no pointless dress codes to follow anymore, you try dyeing your hair on your own, ending up in a string of botched outcomes and unexpected confessions.

wc: 3K

warnings: none, mild cursing maybe??

author's note: oof, this took me more than i expected and it definitely ended up being waaay more. anyway, this is my first piece of writing for the doctor -also in general- and what a better way than start with a fluffy one! i hope it turned out decent! my first language it’s not english, so you can expect some -more like a lot of- writing mistakes.

also, a big shout out to @plxstic-rose​ bc she has been my biggest supporter when i felt like i couldn’t do this, she has helped me so much ily 🥺 💞

(GIF IS MINE)

A grimace appeared on your face as the sour taste of the coffee filled your mouth, you definitely needed to bring yours the next time you stopped on earth because the alien version of it tasted like stomach bile. You weren't even sure if it had proper caffeine or it was drug-fueled tea.

With a resigned sigh, you put the cold mug in the mirrored vanity table in front of you and checked your phone. Five minutes more and you would be rinsing the red dye out of your shower cap covered hair. You lift the right side of the cap slightly, trying to peek at your tinted hair, the pale red -almost blonde- pigments made your breath hitch in a halt.

Was it supposed to look that light? Oh crap, you should have gone to the salon.

That was actually going to be the original plan. You had been procrastinating changing your look; nothing wrong with the colour and length you normally had but since you started travelling with the doctor, you didn't count with office regulations to follow anymore so you considered shaking up a bit your aesthetic. Yet, it seemed as you could never stop to take a breath and the times you did, was always on strange-named planets where your peaceful state of mind lasted a couple of minutes. So, you took it upon yourself to change your look on your own. You knew it could have any sort of downfall, but you didn't really want to nag the doctor into making a 'short' stop on earth -even though you knew he wouldn't mind- just for a date at the salon. He needed a well-deserved rest after all the uncontrollable lifesaving shenanigans and every time you came back to earth, somehow you ended up enticing some sort of trouble.

Besides, how hard could it be, right?

You barged into the installed bathroom connected to your room and locked the door as soon as you stepped inside. The last thing you needed was for the doctor to burst in looking for you while you were in the middle of this crucial transformation, and even though he was probably too distracted tinkering around the console of the TARDIS, you knew how intrusively spontaneous he could be when he finds something new. It wouldn't be a first to hear him enter your bedroom in a spur-of-the-moment with enthusiastic hand gestures and euphoric rants about alien-y stuff.

You grabbed the light blue hand-sized towel that rested upon the toilet tank and draped it around your shoulders. A jittery feeling building up in the pit of your stomach at the prospect of how your new hair would look like.

You weren't particularly bold when it came to your style, always stuck with what you could call an average look, to be fair, before the doctor, your whole life was just brimming with a never-ending stodgy routine that encased every aspect of your life. You didn't see the point of making more than few changes in your image and it was not like your office let you go too risky either.

This was going to be the first radical change in your appearance, and you were lying if you didn't say a fit of excitement was already bubbling up your throat. You didn't know what exactly had gotten into you, but you were so adamant to do something. Perhaps it was the stockpiled adrenaline from all those adventures catching up on you, perhaps this was something you were going to regret later. Either way, right now, you could only think of how satisfying it would be to finally match your current lifestyle. New and thrilling.

To be completely honest, you were also eager to see the doctor's reaction. Of course, you were not doing this because of him…well, not for the best part, but a piece of you wished it would have some sort of effect on him.

You knew this regeneration was cheekier and maybe you were reading too much between the lines but sometimes you could swear there was something more in all those subtle touches and lingering hugs. The shared gazes that let you wonder if this was just some friendly treatment or if he really meant something deeper made your mind go into a frenzy.

You also knew that appearances didn't really matter to him but the need of looking bolder and more luring was still there. You wanted, for once and for all represent how traveling with him had changed you into someone who would risk more than just a ‘change of look´. You were becoming the best version of yourself and you wanted to show him that in more than one way, but one step at the time.

Warily, you lifted the plastic cap; your sticky hair popping in every direction. Without a prior look, you stooped over the sink and manoeuvred your head under the sprout. After some unsuccessful tries, you managed to open it and began massaging your scalp with your fingertips.

After swilling away the shampoo and applying the conditioner; you grasped the towel laying around your shoulders and swaddled your hair up in a turban.

You straighten your back and stroked your hair through the towel, trying -quite poorly- to pump it dry. You didn't anticipate it to be this gruelling. In fact, you thought this would be some sort of restful hiatus from your general tense state, but apparently, this had drained you more than expected.

Resignedly, you undid the coiled towel on top of you and let your new dyed hair fall freely behind you. The air fell out of your lungs and your stomach dropped when you stared at the sight of your reflection.

You were blonde. Blonde.

What in the name of god did you do? You were so sure you followed every instruction of the flipping tint box in lockstep- well, judging by the results, you obviously had made a mistake at some point, maybe even skipped one, but how catastrophic had it been that you ended up looking like a defective version of a Weasley that had awfully light shrimp coloured hair.

A trembling neigh-like sound left your mouth when you touched the ends of your hair. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't even have any dye left to apply another layer and asking the doctor for help was ruled out. He couldn't see you like this. Nobody could see you like this, for your dignity's sake.

This was all on you. You needed to think of something. Anything.

Hats, of course! The TARDIS must’ve a good stash of those, you knew you could find something in the never-ending wardrobe. That thing was three times bigger than your flat.

Well, problem solved. You were going to use a hat until your hair grew enough to cut it or until you stopped on earth again and got the chance to go to a proper hairdresser.

Good god, who were you kidding? This was a mess.

With shaky fingers, you fumble your way out the bathroom and dashed out of your room, in search for your only resource.

---

"You won't believe what I found underneath the floor panel!" You heard the doctor's elated voice buzzing through your room before he could even fling your door wide open.

All you managed to convey was a muffled hum through your pillowed-smashed face. Too tired sulking the crime you made to your hair to turn around from your current position. Your limp body was sprawled all over the bed; arms and legs stretched at your sides with your face buried deep down the mattress.

Without waiting for a proper response, he roved across your room and resumed his explanation of his oh-so-great discover with a shit-eating grin.

You didn't need to see him to know the already too familiar gestures he was making. You could picture with the most minimal detail how his eyes would sparkle with wonder and how a contagious gleam dotted the signature boyish grin he always wore.

You smiled fondly.

You could still remember thoroughly the first time you saw him in all his glory, ranting about scientific stuff you could not understand and even though you had never seen the man before, the brightness on his eyes and the insatiable curiosity he radiated made you grin almost immediately.

You sat up slowly; grunting when you stretched your arms upwards. You moved your head from side to side, trying to stir yourself up completely awake.

"…So technically, it should be able to make the TARDIS' chameleon barrier unfroze. Well... the possibilities are thirteen out of a hundred, but I-" He stopped mid-sentence when he turned around and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He tilted his head slightly to the side and a puzzled look crossed his face like he was trying to figure out what was out of place with you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Thankfully, you had managed to find a Kangol black bucket hat. It was pretty simple; a small metal fuchsia arrow was stamped on the front and the brim was big enough to fit all of your hair inside. Still It was just not your style. Well, the other option was an animal print floppy one, the type that Lady gaga would wear. So, you had to settled with the e-girl-angsty-teen looking.

"That's new" His left eyebrow quirked curiously.

"What?" Good job; try playing dumb and maybe like that he won’t notice it.

"The hat, I- " he made a circular motion around his head "I don't think I've seen you wear one before"

"Oh, I um- wanted to try something different?" You stated but the wince in your voice made it sound more like a question.

“Right, yeah” he rushed "It's not like it doesn't suit you"

"Right" You fidgeted absent-minded with the hem of your sweatshirt, trying to think of something to break the awkwardness “So… you were saying?”

"Oh yes!" a playful glint overtaking his features “I think I found a way to repair the malfunction on the chameleon circuit and hopefully it will be better than that time I tried a block transfer computation. I was so close, well- not that close but at least I managed to build a part of the outer plasmic shell. Anyways, if we are lucky enough, we could stop travelling around looking like a 'blue box'" he raised his eyebrows, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

“Hold on, didn’t you say it was kind of unsafe?”

"Oh no, don’t worry! It’s danger-free… for the most part, well actually, it’s a 4 out of ten, maybe 5. But I’m sure the old girl can handle- "

A shrilling alarm started echoing through the TARDIS’ walls and you almost fell out of the bed when the floor started shaking uncontrollably. The doctor stumbled upon his own feet and with strained struggle and held out his hand to help you up.

"You were saying?" You muttered, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

With one hand locked onto the doctor's and the other extended to keep balance in the middle of the tremble, you managed to head out of your room. As soon as you stepped outside, you were greeted with red flashing lights going off all around the TARDIS.

"Careful" You heard the doctor called out, his voice barely perceivable. You had to double check to understand his next words "We need to get to the console"

Both of you tried the hardest to advance without falling or tripping over. The din of your footsteps lost in the middle of the shrieking noise. You could feel the vibration of the walls crawling to your brain and rumbling. The longer you spend running, the sharper the dizziness became.

You felt his hand clasp yours tighter when you decreased your speed; a warm feeling squeezed its way through your chest instantly. He looked down at you, a small reassuring smile on his lips; he was going to solve this.

When you finally reached the control room, the doctor leaped his way towards the console. A string of garbled mumbling fell under his breath, which you were more than certain you wouldn’t understand even if he spoke up. You saw him go around the panel, flicking switches and pressing buttons but it didn’t lessen a bit the state you were in.

You stood next to the entrance holding onto the railing for dear life. Maybe you should have been trying to do something useful, but quite frankly you had no clue as to what was going on. And even if you could have done something, there was no way of giving more than a few steps without falling.

After several confused exclamations and scrunched up faces from the doctor, he stumbled his way to the other side of the room and kneeled next to an opened floor tile. He plunged into what used to be a makeshift storage and with a newfound enthusiasm, you heard him shout. "Found it!"

He reappeared back on sight and held a small cassette-looking thing, his hair sticking up in a messier way than usual and a triumphant grin spreading on his features "The resetting format key should be able to stabilize us."

With a quick motion, he stood up but before he could head back towards the console to plug it in, an abrupt shook threw the both of you across the room. You saw the doctor’s figure fall hovering over a coral column next to the panel as you held tight on the railing stronger, attempting unsuccessfully to stand still.

Maybe if you hadn't been distracted watching how the doctor got up and toss his weird-looking key into one of the TARDIS’ inputs, you would have noticed how your apparently well-put-cap was now laying on the floor a few meters away from you. And maybe, if you hadn’t been so awestruck at how quickly the room returned to its normal state with golden cozy lights shining from the ceiling, you would have notice your now-bright blonde hair flowing behind your back without a care in the world.

"Right, so it looks like the TARDIS went into some sort of safe mode." He spoke a little out of breath, arms still hunched over the panel "but it's okay now. Apparently, it was a defense response, she thought it we were under a- "

He turned around slowly but stopped dead on tracks when his eyes landed on you, or more specifically- on your hair. His once furrowed eyebrows were now raised, almost touching his hairline and open awestruck eyes were looking at you like you were an unknown species. A breathtaking unknown species.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Every part of his body was just not responding, it was like he had stopped functioning properly. His unblinking eyes were glued to your face and his agape mouth looked almost comical; you would have taken out your phone in that moment just to snap a picture if your brain hadn’t been dozing off at the reason for his reaction. Because what could possibly- Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You moved your gaze to the ground, eyes falling on the discarded hat near the entrance. You pursed your lips, thoughts running a mile per hour. When did it fell? Why weren’t you careful enough? This was the doctor’s fault. Yeah, all his fault. He had to come with his incredibly soft hair and that flipping sweet smile that made your toes curl up and your heartbeat race like there was no tomorrow. He had to come and distract you, oh and of course, bringing a mess along the way.

God! This was not helping.

“You- um, you are…blonde” Yeah, no shit, sherlock.

“I-…am I?” The breathy words rasping out, your mouth felt as dried as the Sahara and you were surprised a sound came out at all.

“You look-”

“I know” You close your eyes and shook your head, praying to whatever entity out there to swallow you up and throw you to the Bahamas “it wasn’t supposed-“

“I like it” he blurted out “I know you don’t need any sort of validation and I’m not trying to- what I-” He starting flapping his hands around in a cartoon-like gestures “you look stunning… truly stunning; not that you weren´t before. I mean, the colour really does suit you but I’ve always thought- blonde, not blonde, you’ve always been beautiful… Guess what I’m trying to say is that when you love someone, there’s really nothing that can make you look at them differently. Did you know that As’urs considered blonde people holy? Well they would if there were blonde people. Sorry, totally off topic, but they do. Everyone there is blue-haired. And there’s a lot of mystical myths and clergy influence involved but basically everything golden is sacred for them. If we go, they might even crown you as their queen.”

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. You could imagine the red alarms in his brain going off, trying to process what fell out of his mouth moments prior and desperately attempting to conjure something up but instead just causing a short circuit in the process. To be completely honest, you weren’t any better.

You felt your heart bumping up your throat and your skin grew hotter and hotter per second. You swore you could feel the maniac rhythm of your pulse piercing through your head and you were quite sure you looked like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the funfair, with eyes nearly falling out of your skull.

Because he didn’t really say that, right? Your mind must’ve been playing some sick game with you. There was no way, he really-

“What?” It was all you managed to muster; your small voice barely hearable.

“Huh?” You saw the redness from his cheek expand through all the visible skin.

“What did you just say?”

“That As’urs would consider you a goddess?” He asked hesitant with a guilty expression.  

“No- before that”

“That the blonde hair looks good on you?”

“No! I-“ You took a small breath “Do you love me?”

You could sense the confidence returning to him like a tidal wave, a serious expression overtaking his features, but with a softness you couldn’t comprehend. “I always have”

Your legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you towards him. You stopped when your noses were almost touching and you could feel his hot ragged breath fall on your eyelashes. With hesitation, you placed your hands on his arms and looked up, letting yourself fall on those brown pools you have grown to love.

“Doctor…” you whispered

You had no idea what made you do it, but you moved your hands to his cheeks, and you kissed him. It was impulsive and stupid, and something you’d expect a sixteen-year-old girl do on her prom night. But you did it without a second thought. And for a moment you felt the doctor grow incredibly still, mouth unmoving and eyes wide open, until you placed your soothing fingers on the back of his neck, thumbs caressing and drawing invisibles circles on his sideburns.

And so, he gave in; firm hands grasping your hips and pressing you flush against him. His mouth spilling raw passion and his insides melting at the soft contact of your delicate lips. The tenderness on his touches and intensity of his lips drawing out all those words that didn’t need saying, because you knew. He was so sure you knew.

An involuntary whimper left your lips when he broke the kiss and intertwined his hands with yours. He brought your joined hands nearer and placed a light kiss to your knuckles.

“Did I mention I like your hair?” A husky laugh fell from your lips and your eyes sparkled when he gave you a soft smile that would be imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

When he looked at you with those old eyes that sung you stories in the most beautiful way imaginable and his swollen lips ghosted a smile you knew things were going to be better, with new adventures and new experiences awaiting on your door. And you had the whole time and space at your disposal to face it together.

author's note pt.2: OK that was a lot, honestly the ending got sloppy and there’s probably a lot of bad editing, but I invented a whole new alien species, so hey! kudos for that I guess. anyway, i hope you like it! and as always, feedback would be really appreciated, a comment or a like would mean the world to me! like my description says, requests are open! but It would probably take ages for me to finish it, so please patience. right now I have some more doctor who drafts and also some marvel ones!

-love, rina xx

[hatsukeii]

Have I been inactive? Yes.

Am I tired? Very.

Should I apologise? Yes, I’m very, very sorry.

Is this going to be a short fic? Uh very possibly tbh sorry.

Will I get over my writer’s block anytime soon? Probably not.

Will I still write with writer’s block in an attempt to get rid of it? Yes.

Should you expect this to be good? Please God no I don’t want to disappoint.

Purely self indulgent Akaashi angst I thought of on a moving bus because my phone was dying but my laptop wasn’t.

Day 67 // Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Word count: 1.8k+

Trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, schizophrenia, cursing

Summary: Schizophrenia/ˌskɪtsə(ʊ)ˈfriːnɪə/ a long-term mental disorder of a type involving a breakdown in the relation between thought, emotion, and behaviour, leading to faulty perception, inappropriate actions and feelings, withdrawal from reality and personal relationships into fantasy and delusion, and a sense of mental fragmentation.

“Keiji.”

“Hi, (Y/N).”

“How are you doing today?”

“Pretty okay. I had a test earlier, currently praying I didn’t fail.”

“Trust me sweetie, you’ll be perfectly fine! You’re smart, algebra is a breeze.”

“I sure hope so too.”

What day was it? Ah, yes, day number 67. Disapproving looks were sent towards Akaashi, students whispering amongst themselves as they inched away from him. He was an outcast in their eyes as of now. However, no one understood the situation fully, which only meant there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“Is he crazy?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He needs a therapist.”

Ignoring the judgemental comments, Akaashi continued his conversation with you, a hand holding his head up as he dreamily stared at you sitting at the edge of his table, a warm smile plastered on your face as usual.

“If I ace this test, are you gonna let me put you in drag makeup?”

Seeing you roll your eyes, he snickered to himself, a tiny grin spreading across his face. 

“Sure, only if you ace it though!”

“Yo Akaashi!”

The familiar voice boomed from behind him, causing everyone’s heads to turn. Slapping a hand on his kouhai’s shoulder, the boisterous third year stared everyone down. Second years snapped their heads back to their textbooks, whispering to each other, obviously intimidated by the sudden appearance of Bokuto.

“What are you guys staring at, huh? Mind your own business, nosy little shits.”

Eyeing the spiker, Akaashi slowly turned around to face him. Seeing Bokuto was the other thing that made him smile. The way he easily raised Akaashi’s spirits was greatly appreciated by the setter. Bokuto was the only person Akaashi trusted enough to tell his rather complicated issues to. Taking a glance back to the front, you were gone, all traces of your existence vanished in the turn of a head. Furrowing his brows, Akaashi’s eyes darted from seat to seat, but found nothing. 

“Hm? Where did she go?”

Sensing his distress, Bokuto sighed, pulling him up by the sleeve of the setter’s school jacket. 

“It’s not getting any better?”

“What do you think, Bokuto- san?”

It pained Bokuto to see his kouhai like this. Akaashi went through way too much in the past few months, he didn’t deserve any of this. The constant and ongoing torture that was his mind, with a side of verbal bullying from classmates that didn’t understand, now that was too much to handle. Despite all that, Akaashi continued to live on, carrying the insults and grief on his back, and Bokuto respected him for that. Calling out bullies for being insensitive was the least he could do for his best bro. He would hold himself back whenever he saw Akaashi staring off into the distance, or conversing, waiting until he stopped to approach him. He understood this was the only way his kouhai could meet her. He watched as Akaashi shoved everything into his bag messily, worksheets crumpling under his laptop, pencil case still opened as pens spilled out into the backpack.

“Are you taking your meds?”

Akaashi was silent as he hauled the heavy bag onto his shoulder, but Bokuto already knew the answer to that question. He had not been taking his meds, although his doctor had urged him to do so. The professionals have explained to him multiple times before, his condition wouldn’t get better unless he took his meds, and cleared his mind off the root of the issue. However, that simply didn’t work with Akaashi. Telling him to clear his mind of the root would be equivalent to telling him to let go of one of the only people he truly, shamelessly cared about. No way in hell was he going to do that. For months, he had been emptying out his bottles of pills into the bin, acting like he took the medicine. That somehow fooled everyone in his family. They were stupid for thinking that he was okay. Shaking his head, Bokuto pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, concerned for Akaashi’s wellbeing. The two walked out of the classroom, pushing through the crowd of bustling students that were all keen to get out of the school as soon as possible.

“You wanna go out to the arcade after school? That might help you wind down.”

Frowning, Akaashi looked at the floor, fiddling with his fingers as he shook his head slightly.

“Therapy, my mom’s on my ass for it.”

A couple of students walked past the duo, snickering as they pointed at the black haired male. It was obvious what they were laughing about as they pretended to speak to air, making exaggerated movements every three seconds, before splashing a bottle of water all over Akaashi’s uniform.

“Oi, what the hell?”

“Bokuto- san, leave it.”

“But they can’t just m-”

“I said, leave it.”

Grabbing his hair, Bokuto groaned in frustration, before slamming his hands back down to his sides, slouching down and continuing to walk down the stairs to the entrance. He didn’t understand how Akaashi could deal with this. It must be so gruelling and depressing for him to have to deal with assholes like them that simply wouldn’t take the time to understand someone’s struggles. Akaashi’s mental compass was strong, so strong that he had never yelled at anyone, not even when he was a victim of their actions. It wasn’t that Bokuto minded sticking up for his kouhai, in fact, he was more than happy to do so. He just wanted Akaashi to speak up for once and not let shit like this go unnoticed.

Akaashi, on the other hand, he really could not give less of a shit. So what if he spoke up? He wasn’t going to get better anyways, no one would listen to his explanation. Fukurodani was a simple school. If you were seen as a misfit, you would get bullied. If you were seen as popular, you would get bullied. If you were seen as anything that wasn’t average, you best bet your ass you would be bullied for it. However, he swore that he would do whatever he could, take whatever punishment, or bullying, or insults that came his way, anything just to be with you for a bit longer. Anything to see that precious smile again. Fanning his shirt, the two parted ways eventually, Bokuto going to the arcade, and Akaashi going to his therapist.

“So, Akaashi, are you getting any better?”

Dr. Yuma pushed his glasses up, awaiting for his response. The teen fiddled with his fingers, seemingly nervous. How was he going to explain this? Should he just tell him the truth? If he did, the doctor might have his parents monitor him even more strictly, he might be forced to take the pills, maybe even have more frequent checkups. Part of him wanted to get rid of this, move on with his life, stop the bullying and so. However another part of him wanted to stay like this. At least he was still able to talk to her. He had close to no friends, all of them left after he started acting like this. The only one that stuck around was Bokuto, and he was forever grateful for that. Talking to you was like an escape from reality, bringing him back to better times, even if others couldn’t accept it.

“Yeah, kind of.”

Smiling to himself, the therapist jotted that down into his notebook, before continuing to consult his patient.

“So, how’re you doing? Do you still see or think of her?”

Looking at the floor, Akaashi bit his lip nervously, racking his brain for something to say.

“I still think of her. That hasn’t gotten any better. I can’t get her out of my mind. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t focus. I could’ve helped her, there was something I could’ve done, if only I had known about her depression. I... I could’ve helped her, there was a chance at saving her and I blew it. I see her once in a while, most often times at school. People look at me like I’m crazy when I’m talking to her though.”

Nodding his head slowly, Dr. Yuma continued to journal everything into the notebook.

“Well, according to my assumptions, you should stop seeing her about now. Are the meds not working?”

Akaashi’s eyes widened, cold sweat gathering on his neck.

“Akaashi... are you not taking the meds?”

Giving up, Akaashi looked at the therapist, eyes desperate and teary.

“I’m not getting any better and I don’t want to either. I want to stay with (Y/N), even if it’s not real. People can stare, they can laugh, I don’t care, I just want to stay with her. I have no friends as of now, they were all too weirded out by the thought of me suffering from schizophrenia. Apparently mental issues aren’t accepted into friend circles. What do I have to lose anyways?”

Completely breaking down, tears flowed freely from his eyes as he stared at his shaking hands. Akaashi shook violently, choking on his salty tears as Dr. Yuma looked at him sympathetically. What the hell was he thinking? Not taking his meds? Troubling his therapist every week with his worsening symptoms? He was selfish towards everyone that awaited his recovery from this disease. His family, Bokuto, his team, all of them. However, did he really want to recover? Would having schizophrenia be worth it, as long as you were still by his side? He wanted to see your smile again, the way you teased him, poked fun with him, the way you kissed him, held him, he felt selfish for wanting it all back, but you could really blame him? He was just as ready to kill himself as you were a few months back, Bokuto was right, this, along with the bullying, was too much for him to bear. Thank God for Akaashi being able to hide his emotions, at least he wouldn’t be troubling Dr. Yuma any more than he already is with his schizophrenia. 

“Akaashi, buddy, you’re going to have to get over her death sooner or later. This is going to affect your life greatly if you don’t and that will become far too troublesome to deal with. You need to start taking the pills and recovering, or the consequences will be quite negative. It’s not your fault, she never told you about her suicidal thoughts, you couldn’t have done anything.”

Eyes blurry from the tears he shed, Akaashi looked straight at his therapist, irises dull and hopeless as tears continued to roll down his numb cheeks.

“It’s bad enough that I couldn’t stop her from jumping, at least let me have fake hope that she might still see me. Please, Dr. Yuma, let me do that for myself.”

Setting down his notebook, Akaashi was able to take a glance at whatever was scrawled messily on the page.

June 20, 2020

Day 67, patient is not showing any signs of improvement. 

Heavily blames self for the suicide of significant other.

Rejecting help.

Not taking meds.

Reminder: Need to inform parents of situation.

Patient should come back again with family for day 68 checkup tomorrow.

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Eh I guess I like writing stuff about mental issues lol my writer’s block is partially gone for now:D Hope you like this thing<3

[raspberryfanfics]

traditions (1/3)—nejiweek day 1

Day 1 Prompt—Tradition | Memory

—because my followers wanted angst

Out of all the traditions he dared to break, this was the one too precious to him to ever stop and he knows that he deserves the hurt she has caused him.

—see Concepts, my fic about Neji’s parents

—on FFn

Hizashi and Asuka Hyuga are the first people who introduce the concept of “tradition” to Neji. 

He is very young, but he can understand half of what they tell him. 

It is a tradition to eat jiaozi and wagashi on the Lunar Year. It is a tradition to wear yukatas during Matsuri. It is a tradition to eat osechi during New Year’s Eve.

He understands that tradition is only something enforced by the person who believes it, for it creates a sense of predictability and happiness. Traditions are made because people enjoy having them. They bring others together, connect people in a new way.

There are many more traditions that Neji has with his parents, such as eating soba on their birthdays, though they alter it to herring soba because his mother is so good at making it. Sometimes, traditions are less widespread, like how his mother and father participate in a four-way-spar with their sensei and their other teammate or go to one of their houses for dinner every month. He decides he likes traditions, likes the way they look forward to them, and the way it makes them all smile. 

There’s one tradition, however, that he has only heard of, but has never celebrated: Obon.

Obon is a holiday celebrated to honour departed loved ones, but his father despises the clan, loves no one who has died from it, and his mother is an orphan who does not know another family. They tell him that one day, maybe someone they love will die and it will be a tradition, but they don’t hope for it. Neji doesn’t hope so either.

Yet when his parents die, followed shortly by their team, Neji drops all traditions he has acquired over the years. He stops eating soba. He stops going to Matsuri. He stops smiling most of the time.

However, in the late summer following the death of his loved ones, he accidentally stumbles upon a girl who is staring at lanterns. She has two buns on the sides of her head and big brown eyes. Her money, a huge clump of coins she must have saved up the whole year for, is scattered across the ground. He feels slight remorse and watches as she scoops them in her arms, then suddenly smiles up at him. 

“Happy Obon!” she cries, full of vivid enthusiasm. 

He sees that there is no guardian in sight, similar to his situation. To his surprise, she hands the lantern she buys to him. Neji doesn’t know what to do with it.

“I don’t have a family,” she announces.

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t either.”

“Oh,” she frowns and thinks for a moment. “Did you have a family?”

“Yes,”

“Well, I never did, so you can use the lantern for your family.”

“What do I do with it?”

“Just write a letter to them and send it down the river.”

So he does. 

It is the first time he finds a little peace in his family’s death. 

The next year, he studies how to properly celebrate Obon, but it is the only tradition he has. He buys an eggplant and a cucumber and puts sticks under them so his parents come home quickly and go back to heaven safely. Though he cannot see them, he half believes that their spirits are with him.

The girl with the twin buns is at the marketplace and once again, she buys him a lantern.

Over the years, Obon is the only tradition he dares to have, to let the girl buy him lanterns. He finds that she also is in the academy with him, her name is Tenten, and she’s average in everything. Neji doesn’t make a move to get to know her, she respects it. Yet it is a mutual agreement that the only interaction they will share is that she will buy him a lantern during the festival, but she lingers a little longer every year.

When he is placed into Team Gai, he finds himself gathering more and more traditions.

It starts off as team dinners every month, kind of like what his old family would do. The first dinner is undoubtedly the first time they became a team, then their first completed mission, when Gai sees drastic improvement, and the team dinners are always spaced out by around a month. Maybe it was for the sake of him because they knew that he wouldn’t dare admit having such frivolous routines, but it is only announced as a tradition a year into the formation of his team.

Another tradition is the three-way spars every season. It’s almost a rite of passage. Sometimes, they spend the week before it training alone with Gai-sensei just to prepare, for it feels like such an honour to win one. The event is unpredictable and sometimes people in the village gather just to witness it. Neji has won half of them, mainly because Lee and Tenten nearly always team up against him for they are better matched than against him. Yet there are occasional times where Tenten has to defend against her boys or Neji and Tenten start doing combination jutsus honed with all their sparring sessions. None of them will admit it, but part of the reason they are so determined to win this spar is that the winner is treated to a shopping spree of supplies. 

Then there are the New Year traditions. They go out for sushi, watch fireworks on Gai’s roof, count the seconds to midnight, and play cards. It is practically the ultimate form of team bonding, says Gai, but they really know deep down that New Year is really just spending time together as a family. He tells her about how his parents made him herring soba on his birthdays and she spends a lot of her time learning to make it.

Neji knows there are a lot more, but maybe the most meaningful one that Team Gai has brought him is the Lunar Year. His family, though they celebrated it, never did in the way that Tenten insists on. She makes the familiar jiaozi, she makes fish and pork and duck and a variety of roasted vegetables, she gives red envelopes to kids in the orphanage, and she drags the team into doing it with her. He starts looking forward to the Lunar New Year, especially when with the extensive knowledge of explosives, Tenten simply has the best firecrackers. 

The tradition of celebrating the Lunar Year with Tenten clearly means a lot to her, seeing all the preparations she makes. They know everything that needs to be prepared, helps her prepare it, even if the day doesn’t mean a quarter as much to them as it does to her. They always do it for her. But when he is fifteen and it is past midnight while Lee and Gai have to leave because Lee may have accidentally consumed a little sake, he and Tenten are left to clean dishes and the apartment by themselves.

She finds a small pack of sparklers that she never got to use and he suggests that they light them. They head to her balcony and she ignites them, watching as light explodes from them like water spurting from a broken hose. When she hands him one and he smiles, admiring the light that dances on her face. He finds himself captivated by her beauty, so much so that he cannot find words for anything. Yet Neji is too shy to make any sort of move on her so he just watches in content.

And so, this is the development of a new tradition, for Tenten and Neji. He stays with her every Lunar New Year and they ignite sparklers to watch. Each year they stand in silence, unspoken words heavy around them, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

It goes without saying that probably the tradition still most sacred to him is still Obon. The first time she buys him a lantern as a teammate rather than a stranger, he opens up to her, telling her how his family died. Obon is the time of year where he is the most vulnerable and he trusts her with his emotional state. For Tenten guards him as he reunites with his past family. She doesn’t say anything as he talks to what appears to be thin air. 

She starts accompanying him to put offerings at the altar, to clean his family’s gravestones, and to watch the ritual dances. 

Tenten doesn’t understand how he can feel their spirits and talk to them but she accepts that he can. For his mother and father still have personalities, they tell him they love him, they tell him that she’s a good match for him. He always blushes at that statement but wipes it away, saying that they are ridiculous. His father likes Tenten. Neji makes sure she knows. She blushes at that too.

Years pass, wars pass, and there are traditions, even routines that he has to start breaking.

They start off small, like the fact that he can no longer walk Tenten home after a sparring session because he has to go back to the compound very quickly to help train Hanabi. She tells him she’s fine with it and he believes her. Then he is unable to go to lunch with her, he doesn’t meditate while she sharpens weapons. They start growing apart.

For the ANBU exams, it is a gruelling one-month process and he is pushed to his limit. They cannot have the monthly team dinner, and that one breaks many times more. And on one of his other missions, he is gone for three months, missing the seasonal three-way spar.

The year after that, he spends the New Year with the clan and Naruto, who has just gotten engaged to Hinata. Tenten is disappointed but she says nothing of foul words, even when he can see the hurt burning in her eyes. She tells him that it’s ok, that it’s just one time, right?

“Right,” he says, though they both know they are lying to each other. 

The Konoha boys throw him a surprise party on his birthday and he is told that reservations are already made at a sushi bar and a table is booked at a club, even though he is supposed to be with Lee and Gai and Tenten. But Lee just shrugs, saying that they wouldn’t refuse to let him go with the others and Tenten says he ought to spend a birthday without her horrible cooking. He is too afraid to tell her that her herring soba rivals the taste of his mother’s.

Guilt continues to overwhelm him and during Lee’s birthday, he has to leave early because his clan has set up a date for him, a marriage interview with a cousin he has never talked to. Lee is exuberant about it, tells him not to worry, and he thanks his teammate. However, he honestly would much rather celebrate with them than go on a date with someone he isn’t remotely interested in. Especially since his heart is set on someone else.

The Lunar New Year comes and Neji is ready to confess his feelings for Tenten. He has been preparing for weeks, is anxious to watch the sparklers with her, and to apologize for how distant he has been becoming.

Yet at the last minute, Hiashi sets him up with another girl and because not a lot of people celebrate the Lunar Year, his mother and Tenten being the few exceptions, he doesn’t have much of an excuse. After all, how would his uncle know of his affections for her? Why would he understand?

When he informs her of the situation, he swears he has never seen so much pain in her eyes. But Tenten is a strong kunoichi who doesn’t hide her feelings, and she smiles like she usually does, brushes it off as she positions herself in a stance to begin their spar. This is the first time Lee questions him abandoning all their traditions, the first time he questions Neji as a person since the chunin exams.

He has been questioning himself for ages, wondering if it is the right thing. Neji knows it’s wrong, he wants to break off the dinner, but that’s dishonourable to the girl he agreed to go on a date with. Yet as he slowly eats fancy sashimi with a girl who seems just as unenthusiastic as he is, he realizes how stupid he is being. Instead, he promises himself to see Tenten when it is over, for he knows that she will still appreciate it if he lights the sparklers with her. In the end, he cuts the date short anyways.

Yet when he arrives at her house, not even at midnight, she isn’t home. Her house is completely empty. When he goes to Lee’s house, he's not with her either and they have tea together. His teammate informs him that Tenten wasn’t feeling well and she didn’t think she should be outside that night, as it would make her worse. 

“I didn’t really believe her,” Lee admits, looking out the window in thought. “But she looked like she really wanted to be alone and I had to respect that.”

Neji rushes out the door and activates his Byakugan, searches everywhere for her chakra signature. 

He finds it at a bar and he’s there so fast that he doesn't remember stopping by a store and picking up a package of sparklers that are supposed to shoot out rainbows coloured sparks instead of warm yellow ones. This isn’t a part of the plan, this isn’t how he wanted to do this, but it is better than nothing, right?

As a shinobi, Neji should have known better than to have a plan in the first place.

The guy making out with her against a wall is not a part of the plan and the fact that her legs are wrapped around him very tightly certainly isn’t either. He squeezes the paper package in his hand and drops the sparklers. He can’t hear the sound of them dropping. Bile rises to his throat. His mind goes blurry in regret and jealousy, leaves the bar before he can do something stupid.

When he’s home he doesn’t feel anything, doesn’t feel it until he sees the team picture on his nightstand. Neji suddenly can’t breathe until his lungs give out with a frustrated scream because it hurts that he messed up this fucking badly. He punches a dent in the wall so powerful it could nearly be mistaken for an air palm. 

Hiashi thinks it was just that his date went badly but Hinata and Hanabi are wise enough to tell him to leave Neji to calm down himself. As far as they are concerned, if his uncle gives him a reason to, he will shred the man into sand. No one knows why Hiashi would ever send him on dates when the whole village knows of his affections for the Weapons Mistress but then again, people are too afraid of him to say anything.

Tenten doesn’t show up to training until mid afternoon and she tells them she felt sick until now. Neji feels a gaze burning into him and he meets Lee’s eyes, seeing the look of doubt. He can confidently assume that she’s hungover but they don’t dare to mention it. The environment between them is strained that day, they all notice it. Yet how do teammates who haven’t ever got into a situation like this address it?

He hopes, oh, Neji hopes so badly that things will go back to normal, but deep down he knows that he has shattered a piece of her so how is it ever going to be the same? 

From there on, he makes sure that none of his missions overlap with the traditions like the seasonal three-way-spar, but he hasn’t gone back to walking her home or having lunch with her. It seems that she no longer wants to see him anymore. This is made obvious when he realizes that she hasn’t barged into his room at the compound for months, a habit she always would pull. When she does come to drop off one of his weapons she mistook as hers, he knows that what they had is irrevocably broken when he realizes that she knocked.

Summer comes and Obon does too, but she makes no mention of it. He makes the cucumber horse who brings the spirits home quickly and the eggplant cow who leads them back safely. He brings food to the altar as offerings. He washes and sweeps their graves before sitting down beside them, waiting for their spirits to come back.

Neji meditates like he always does until he feels their presence beside them. His mother and father greet him with their kind smiles, love evident on their faces. He bows slightly and they look to his side, surprised.

“Tenten is not with you this time?” his father asks, already used to the presence of his teammate, even if she cannot see them.

He shakes his head. 

“How come?”

“I have not been a good friend or teammate to her.” 

His parents seem to understand with steady nods and Neji feels tears welling up in his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He feels like a failure, wonders if they know how much he has failed them. When he lets the tears spill over his face, dripping onto his shirt as he ducks his head to hide his face. It’s strange to feel that his vulnerability, though in the same time of year, is now pain caused by her rather than the death of his parents. Funny how roles have switched as so.

They soothe him with comforting words, telling him he will fix it and that things will be fine. It is the first time in a while that he has felt safe, and it makes him regret that they only have a couple days left with each other. He doesn’t realize how alone he is until now and it hurts him all the more.

She doesn’t show up to buy him a lantern and he swears that his parents can see his pain. His mother looks like she is about to say something, but decides not to. He ignores their heavy stares as he buys the lantern himself and writes a message on it with his perfect calligraphy. 

Out of all the traditions he dared to break, this was the one too precious to him to ever stop and he knows that he deserves the hurt she has caused him

When he places the lanterns on the lake and lights the candle, his mother touches his shoulder and smiles softly. 

“When you break something, it’s usually hard to have it exactly the way it is again. But anything that can be broken can be mended and I don’t believe that it’s hopeless, Neji.” she kisses him on his forehead where his mark was.

She steps onto the lantern and his father takes her place. “Sometimes, mended things can be worth more than intact. It just depends on what you glue it together with.”

He blinks at the metaphor but thanks them anyways, waving as they disappear. Neji has tried unsuccessfully to go back to how things used to be, trying to keep most of the old traditions, making sure to visit on her birthday, buying the sparklers, but he was in the wrong so he can’t expect anything back. Only time will tell if he can truly mend what he has broken.

[shiftingpath]

To My Exalted Secret Santa

A Solar, a Lunar, and a Dragon-Blood behind the cut:

1) Ledaal Manus, the Hand of Towersong, Twilight Caste Solar

Manus is a beautiful, delicate-looking young man, impossibly young for his position controlling the Clockwork Empire, a Solar kingdom stretching across the North. Manus is dedicated to being whatever his Circle needs; scholar, spy, tactician, diplomat, prophet, but his real skill is in management, changing the flow of entire economies with the flick of his brush. The enemies of Towersong are beginning to consider Manus the most dangerous of his Circle for his subtlety, adaptability, and ruthlessness.

Manus is of average height, slim and pretty. His skin is pale and his hair white, kept in a short ponytail or braid just a bit longer than his shoulders. He wears oval-shaped spectacles, and his remaining natural eye is ice blue. The other one is glass set with aquamarine in the shape of a broken hourglass. Occasionally when trying to appear intentionally intimidating he'll wear an eyepatch, but he is very vain about his appearance and prefers to come off flawlessly pretty.

His upbringing as a Dynast is no longer very evident in his fashion sense, which leans more towards the (Viking) style of nearby Karn, but he does still like the high collars. Manus tries never to show more skin than his face whenever possible. He loves purple and charcoal, and wears gold to match his Queen. In addition to his northern adventurer look, he loves jewellery and always wears a gold circlet on his brow and a gear ring nailed through his finger, as well as plenty of other necklaces and rings that he changes out as the mood suits. Though they're usually hidden, he also has a brand around his bicep of a chain sealed with a crown, and a bioluminescent tattoo around one wrist that looks like a glowing blue string of beads.

His beloved sword Silver Riddle is a long thin moonsilver daiklave, with tiny starmetal strands etched up the blade. He used to wear his hair in a signature long white-blue braid to his knees, but when Ligier cut it off Manus instead fixed it to his sword like a long tassel. His other common artifacts are a blue jade chain shirt and one of a pair of matched assassin's blades, his showing a brilliant orichalcum sun in a blue jade sky. He also wears a black jade badge with the mons of House Ledaal.

Manus is a Solar Circle sorcerer, absolutely chock full of weird magic, a hint of necromancy, and just a whole load of bizarre clock-themed eerieness. He is a prophet who can pull the stars from the sky, a sorcerer who can stop time and walk unseen through it, a warden of Towersong's memory able to strip entire experiences from the minds of the public if he deems it too secret or too horrific, an arcane link to Autochthon himself. If you make it clock-themed it is probably appropriate.

Manus is distant, cool, and very polite. In combat he is a noble defender, pleased to act as assistant to his Dawn Caste best friend. In diplomacy he is ambitious and shrewd, and will make allies of nearly anyone with his willingness to bargain and deal. In home life he is deeply respectful of his father and spouse, still trying to be the perfect Realm son and husband. The world perceives him as a spider sitting behind his desk, controlling the North, and in his dreams, he walks strange roads lit in blue-green, patrolling alone among the frozen, sleeping citizens of his home.

References 1 2 3

2) The Ninth Hand, No Moon Octopus Lunar Ninth Hand is a vengeful sorcerer, eager to cut down the Realm and its monsters wherever they encounter it. They are a consummate shapeshifter, discarding forms with no sentimentality and rarely considering any shape "their own", having long since happily forgotten the details of the shape they were born to. However, over time they have refined their preferences, and when they appear "as themself" to another, the forms they invent for it will usually have some overlapping common traits.

In a "true" form, they usually appear very tall and slim, with long fingers. Their appearance of androgyny varies widely, though they often appear with a flat chest. Their skin is a deep black with underlying blue tones, covered with patterns of multicoloured dots rippling across their flesh at random, their subconscious octopus nature trying to camouflage them into the background. Their moonsilver tattoos appear like transluscent silver scarves, caught with stars, weaving in twirls and loops across their face and down their limbs. Several large hearthstones are set into their skin. In their forehead, an opal. Between their collarbones, a cloudy grey gem with a black swirl deep inside. On one arm, just below the shoulder, is a translucent grey stone and on the other, a translucent black one. The most important of these turns all water nearby them an inky black, and another causes tendrils of dark water to form out of their anima, able to pickpocket or open doors for them and so on.

They usually appear with a shaved or hairless head, though if they appear with hair, it's natural, strong and curly, styled into shaved-side mohawks of locs or beaded braids pulled back. Their eyes are usually either a eerie warm silver or a brown so dark as to appear black. When wanting to appear extra spooky they'll make their sclera black as well. They can shift their clothes as effortlessly as their body, so their disguises are easy and appropriate. When appearing as themself, they wear coils of long violet sashes swooped loosely around their chest and arms, and soft loose pants easy to move in. They wear a black cuff around each wrist, and a gold bracelet around one wrist and one ankle. They never wear shoes.

Their beastman form makes them even taller, with unusually long arms and fingers. They have four or six arms, and their Tell becomes much more pronounced, constant camouflaging patterns emerging and disappearing. They like to pose their extra arms in artistic, occult fashions while using one set as the “working pair”.

Ninth Hand carries one artifact, the Grasping Claw of the Nemesis, a sorcerer's staff appearing like a single long thin band of moonsilver twisted like a ribbon. It's topped with a sharp obsidian claw with three prongs, which when used to clutch at an arcane link to a person, makes it easier to cast spells of darkness and hatred upon them. Hand likes to use it primarily on other sorcerers, whom they regard with a jealous rage.

Ninth Hand is cool and distant by nature, and speaks in an oblique, formal way. They are a cunning planner, cautious and suspicious, sitting back and observing long before taking action. They have nothing but disdain and disgust for the rich and idle, especially Dynasts. However, they are relatively warm and protective of the working class, slaves and sex workers, and servants of all stripes, having come from a similar background and never forgetting the exhaustion and indignity of it. They are also fond of younger Lunars and are happy to lend them aid and advice in their personal goals, with no need for favours or payment. They are often found still as a statue, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a wide bowl on their lap full of burning herbs, witnessing visions of the future as they inhale the smoke.

Ninth Hand's favourite spells are Death of Obsidian Butterflies, Impenetrable Veil of Night, and Insidious Tendrils of Hate. Their anima appears like silver tentacles shifting in and out of view as if a cloud passed in front of them. Twisting tendrils are revealed, grasping exotic and glimmering gems sparkling with power. 

References 1 2 3

3) Ledaal Zyden, Fire Aspected Dragon-Blood Some of you may remember Zyden. This is a new Zyden! We relaunched his campaign from the ground up!

Zyden is a quietly troubled young man fresh out of the House of Bells, a gruelling experience that has left him bitter and disillusioned. His natural hunger to help and support others was nearly extinguished, and he still has long periods feeling like a guttering flame. He is friendly and open with nearly everyone, and his feeling like he should hear them out has led to him befriending mortal children, Lintha reavers, and even Anathema. At school he specialized in solo spear fighting, and his skill at it has let him outfight even Dragon-Bloods years older than him. He loves fighting, and knowing he's doing the right thing defending villages of mortals or ostracized outcastes gives him a heart and intensity he lacks in defending himself. His time travelling in the West has led to him picking up all sorts of skills unbecoming for a Dynastic Dragon-Blood; cooking, sailing, playing the tin whistle. He takes immense joy in them and truly loves cooking for others.

He has already been contacted by three Sidereals, curious to observe and guide him, for they believe that against all expectation and likelihood, he may be the inheritor of a grand and important destiny that would set him head and shoulders above his Dragon-Blooded kin in achievements. But destiny is a fickle thing, and they have not told him what it might involve. Zyden's fate has been cast in the air, and even Heaven doesn't yet know where it will land.

Zyden is quite tall, with pale skin that sunburns easily. His eyes are icy blue and his hair is white, flickering like flames. He is always warm to the touch, and water evaporates off him quickly. His "good clothes", as he thinks of them, are a grey silk shirt with a high collar, a pair of soft trousers similar to martial training gear, and a pair of boots with upturned toes. He has a lot of trouble forcing himself to do up his collar the entire way, and it's often open a button or two. The clothes he prefers to wear sailing alongside Coral crews are a loose white shirt and grey-blue trousers, going barefoot whenever possible. Around his waist he wears a blue and yellow sash he was given from a local in the Neck, and around his neck he wears a string with a large shark tooth. When he is most content, he'll sometimes tuck a tropical flower in his hair, which are almost always, coincidentally, blue.

He currently wields two artifacts- Saltspray Exorcist, a black jade guan dao famous in his family for its specialty against ghosts and the undead, and the Uniform of the Vigilant Watchman, a blue jade reinforced buff jacket. Exorcist is a tall spear with a long slashing head of black jade, a white silk tassel dangling from it. The haft is decorated with gold studs, with a gold cap on the end. His buff jacket is dark blue, with smooth plates of bright blue jade. It has a wide collar and is decorated with gold embroidery of a flaming sun emerging from dragon-scale clouds.

His anima is a brilliant-burning four-pointed star of white fire with a blue core.

References 1 2 3 4

[lamiasluck]

All I Want for Christmas Is... (Pt. 2)

Summary: It's wintertime and coming close to the holidays. Yancy and everyone else in the prison have lots of plans for celebrations! Though Yancy finds himself all alone every time visitation day rolls on by. Illinois on the other hand... is just as lonely. Harsh winters meant there were little adventures to be had. More often then not he had to stay at home with nothing to do.

Maybe it's finally time for the two to reconnect again.

Characters: Illinois and Yancy

Words: 2286

Chapter 1

Read on AO3!

-

Illinois woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing. In bright text was the name “Jailbird” and a selfie he managed to sneak while adventuring with him. He eagerly answered the phone, every bit of sleep leaving him.

“Hello? Yancy?” His voice was still gravely from waking up. Though with how poor the speaker was on Yancy’s flip phone, he couldn’t tell.

“Oh, hey~ freebird…” Yancy sounded awkward. The first thing Illinois thought was that he was being held at gunpoint.

“Are you alright?”

“What? Yeah, never better.” He scratched the back of his head, still lying in bed. “Look, I gotta make this quick. Sorry for calling youse so early.”

“It’s fine,” Illinois rubbed his eyes with a sigh, “So can I visit you?”

“No.”

“I told you, jailbird.”

“Shut it!” Yancy snapped. “Theys didn’t believe me…”

While disappointed, Illinois huffed out a chuckle. “Didn’t you say I kidnapped you? The only way they’ll let me back there is in handcuffs.”

“Right… I did say youse kidnapped me, didn’t I?” That lie saved him time in solitary when he got back. Great to know he can never come out scott free.

“Like I said, if you want to see me again you’ll have to come to me. It’s never too late to get out of there,” he tried to convince the other.

“I didn’t say youse can’t come. Youse just gotta not get caught.”

Illinois actually pulled the phone away from his ear for a second, taking in what was said. When he finally did return to the phone, he only had one thing to say. “Yancy, I don’t want to get arrested again.”

“Youse won’t! I promise ya, it’ll be fine.”

A long drawn out sigh came from the adventurer. Well, was he really an adventurer if he stayed at home all day? He thought about what he was about to do. Travel to his former prison in the middle of winter, just so he could visit a man he was… friends with? Yeah, that still sounded weird considering Yancy decked him the first time they met. So he was potentially going to get arrested again to spend Christmas with a criminal?

Fuck it, sure.

“Tell me what I have to do, jailbird. You better make this worth it.”

Yancy smiled victoriously. “Now we’re talkin’, freebird.”

-

Another cold breeze made Illinois shiver in place. He could see his breath appear in white clouds within the frigid night. Even with the layers he wore, it was barely tolerable. The area he was in was secluded, a small section unseen by the prison’s security cameras. A tall gate topped with barbed wire still stopped him from entering the prison, but that wasn’t his objective. The sound of snow crunching beneath feet got his attention. Yancy shuffled towards the gate, shivering like a leaf.

“H-Hey, I-Illinois!” he chattered through clenched teeth. Despite the freezing weather, he attire didn’t change. He still wore his prison uniform, which barely offered any warmth in the winter.

The sight made Illinois nearly scream in his scolding. “Christ, Yancy you’re going to freeze to death!”

“T-They’s d-don’t g-give u-us c-coats…”

“Oh my god, you idiot!” He aggressively took off his coat and shoved it between the gate’s bars. “Take this.”

Yancy didn’t hesitate to put on the coat, furiously rubbing his arms for warmth. “Won’t youse get…” He looked at what Illinois was wearing, “Cold.”

Underneath the coat, Illinois was wearing his usual button up… and the leather jacket. Yancy couldn’t help but stare at his ensemble. His face wasn’t as cold anymore suddenly.

“I wore layers, don’t worry.” Illinois noticed Yancy’s fixated stare. “You like what you see?” He winked.

Yancy blinked and shook his head. “N-No, youse shut your trap!” he huffed, though he gave Illinois one more up and down look. “Youse don’t look bad in it, I guess…”

“Told you I look good in everything.”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes hard as he began to warm up.

More puffs of clouds appeared as Illinois laughed. Admittedly, he was colder, but it beats being out there in a t-shirt. “Well, you got me here. So what now?”

“Uh… Is it bad I didn’t think I’d get this far?”

Some guy risked his freedom to visit him for the holidays, and Yancy was risking days in solitary for that same reason. All this work, and there still was an iron gate in between them. God, why couldn’t he have met Illinois by conventional means? What was he doing?

“I didn’t think I’d be here too.”

By the looks of it, Illinois had the same thought process. It’s been months since they’re seen each other in person, and their last encounter was an adventure. Could they live up to that moment? Did they need to?

“Let’s start here: Merry Christmas, Yancy.”

“Merry Christmas to youse too.”

“So… how are you?”

They were frigid, and not because of the cold this time. Oddly hesitant considering all the trouble they went through. Casual conversation could be good for the average Joe, but not for them. Maybe it was the idea of the guards finding them that was putting them on edge.

“Won’t the guards find you?” Illinois asked. He looked around at the field behind Yancy. The prison was quiet, so there was nothing but snow accompanying them.

“Nah, the pushover’s patrollin’ today. I could get away wit’ murder and be fine.” Hopefully, at least.

“I hope that’s not what’s gonna happen tonight.”

“Well youse never…” He reached between the bars and grabbed Illinois. “Know!”

“H-Hey!” Illinois braced himself as he held onto the bars. Yancy grabbed his wrist, holding him in a firm grip with a mischievous smile. “Hands off the merchandise,” he laughed. A similar smile dawned on his face too. “Though, if you want to touch all you have to do is ask~”

Yancy scrunched up his nose, letting go. “Don’t make me actually kill youse.” Luckily he could blame his blush on the cold. Already they felt their unease melting away. All it took was a poor attempt at flirting.

“You started it,” Illinois snickered. After they chuckled, it was silent, but not for long. He remembered something and reached in his bag. “Oh, I brought you a gift.”

“A gift? Youse didn’t have to do that, freebird. I didn’t get anythin’ for youse…” he said, voice airy with disbelief. He scratched the back of his head.

“That’s alright. You making this happen is more than enough.” Illinois revealed a beautiful conch shell from his bag, handing it to Yancy with delicate hands.

“Illinois…” The shell was free from flaws, shined perfectly and had an exquisite pattern of beiges and browns, speckled in a way. Yancy stared at it in awe. “This is beautiful!”

“That’s not all, jailbird. Just like me, it’s more than a pretty face.” He let Yancy shove his shoulder, he deserved it for that one. Still, Yancy let him guide his hands until the shell was next to his ear. “Here, listen closely.”

Shells like this often let people listen to the ocean. This one, however, was a completely different story. Not only did Yancy hear the crash of the waves against the shoreside --oddly clear and loud-- but also the entire beach. Seagulls chirped and dived into the water for food, dolphins and fish splashed jumped from the water, the leaves from palms trees swayed in the wind. He could picture it all. It left him with the faint smell of sea salt and the want for a tropical drink. The second he pulled away, he was back in the snowy prison yard, with Illinois staring at him with a knowing smile.

“Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah, no kiddin’.” Yancy looked at the shell once more, rubbing his thumb along its smooth curves. “Where’d youse get this?”

“Well, it was in an ancient underwater temple. I went there a little after you left. There were tons of these things decorating the place, so I figured I could take one as a souvenir.” Illinois loved to talk about his adventures. Yancy noticed whenever he started to have a far away look, as if he were reliving the moment. Or when he talked with a small smile on his lips as he described his gruelling tasks. “It was a tough journey that one. Razor sharp shells shot from the walls and gave me a nasty scar here.” He drew a line from his shoulder to his stomach. While Yancy grimaced at the thought, Illinois continued to smile. “You wanna see it?”

Yancy sputtered as Illinois began to unbutton his shirt. “Wh-What the fuck?! No, stop that!” He slapped his hands away and tried to unbutton his shirt. “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Alright, alright, your loss,” he chuckled and shrugged. “I gave the crystal shell to a museum, but I hope you like this. It’s not a conventional gift, though.”

“You’re not a conventional man,” he rebutted. “This is fine, more than fine actually. I really like this.”

“I know you ‘don’t wanna be free’ and whatnot, but clearly you have some drive for adventure. So when you want a taste of the outside, but don’t want to leave, you can listen to this.” Illinois leaned in as close as the bars would allow him, whispering his next words. “From one adventurer to another: it sucks to stay in one place all the time. I know I hate it.”

“Well, I don't mind being all being all caged up. It’s what I’m used to. Not like I have anywhere to go to besides this.” That’s what he always said to people, but for some resaon the words felt heavy on his tongue. Why did he choke out the words now?

Illinois furrowed his brows. “You’ll always have a place with me.”

“Don’t make me consider parole, you asshole.” He gripped the bars in front of him until it hurt, avoiding Illinois’ gaze. There was no bite to his words, more so fearful contemplation.

“I think you deserve better, Yancy. Doesn’t have to be with me, but you should have a different life.” Illinois rested his hand on Yancy’s shoulder, rubbing gently in reassurance.

He tensed under the touch. “Illinois, I’m not a good person. Youse should know that.”

“And you think I have no blood on my hands?”

It was silent between the two of them. Illinois let go of his shoulder in favour for holding the hand gripping the bars. Both their hands were cold, but Yancy still found it comforting. He let Illinois continue his actions while he held the shell in his other hand with an iron grip. A touch of freedom in his hands, the potential for freedom holding his other. This measly gate prevented him from fully being on the same level as Illinois, but he was so close. Did he even want that?

Illinois gave a long sigh. “I don’t know who you were in the past, but from what I’ve seen, you’re shaping up to be a real good man.”

Yancy looked back at Illinois expecting to see his playful smile, but he was dead serious. His eyes were full of hope and care. Eventually Yancy noticed there were tears building up in his eyes. It wasn’t the sting of the cold breeze making him tear up. His lip quivered and he found his voice was straining. “S-Shut up…” He couldn’t help the quiet sob that escaped his lips. Looking down again, he struggled to wipe away his tears on the coat’s sleeves. Again, he was expecting a certain reaction out of Illinois. A negative one. So when he heard Illinois’ soft reassurances rather than a snarky laugh, he felt more afraid of what’s to come. “I fuckin’ hate you… stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“I… I don’t know,” he huffed. “I dunno what’s going on.”

“Just because something’s different, doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Illinois squeezed Yancy’s hand as he gasped at his claim. “I won’t say anything else, but I do care about you.” Those words felt weird on his tongue. He doesn’t remember the last time he cared about someone like Yancy. “I’m sorry for ruining your holiday.”

Yancy huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. His world was starting to crack, but he didn’t want to address it. Not yet, at least. “No, youse didn’t ruin anythin’. I really appreciate youse talkin’ to me like this, whatever this is. You’re different.” He wiped away the rest of his tears, doing his best to smile. “I don’t know whether I should punch ya or hug ya.”

“Not like you can do either with this gate in the way.”

“A damn shame.”

They talked for a little longer, about their lives and adventures outside and in prison. It was getting close to morning time by the end of it. The sun peeked out from the horizon and put Yancy on edge.

“I should go now,” he shifted from side to side. “I can hide your gift or pull a couple strings probably. Don’t youse worry.”

“Alright just keep it safe, you hear? Though, I won’t mind going back there and getting you another one.”

Yancy nodded. Another thing was on his mind so he blurted it out before he could regret it. “Can I call youse again? Casually?”

“Of course you can! I’ll be more than happy, I didn't know you wanted to. Just don’t get caught doing it.”

“I’ll be fine, I wanna talk to youse again.”

It took a lot for Illinois not to make a snarky comment and ruin the moment again, but he kept quiet, he bit his tongue. It felt odd having to part ways again. They both lingered around much longer than they should. Especially in Yancy’s case.

“I hope we can adventure again, jailbird. You gotta stretch your wings sometime.”

“Maybe we can soon.” Yancy shrugged off Illinois’ coat and gave it back. He patted Illinois’ shoulder and backed away from the gate. “I’ll see youse around.”

“Likewise, stay safe.”

Then that was that. Illinois went back to his car and Yancy went back to the prison. Illinois felt oddly alone again, even though he always was. Something happened back there, but he wasn't sure how to describe it. So he shrugged his shoulders and kept driving. This was an adventure, that's for sure, though he has never had the treasure be someone else's company.