#So it's just an odd unspoken mystery in the anime

[idaten-jump]

Hi there! I am your new follower and also the fan of Idaten jump. I JUST LOVE IDATEN JUMP. Ok back to the topic, actually i am just wondering that how kyoichi and makoto bike is idaten bike and why takeshi yamato give arthur, koei , and gabu that idaten bike . I hope i don't ask too much things😅. Thanks and bye.

Thank you for following me, and welcome to the fandom here! 💖Don't worry, you're not asking too much! If anything, you're not asking enough! XD We don't have enough content in this fandom so every bit helps, haha!

As for the question (I hope I have understood it correctly); the Idaten Bikes are special bikes made by Takeshi Yamato, which he gave to certain characters. He gave two to his own sons Sho and Ayumu. I seem to remember that he gave the Idaten Bikes to Gabu, Koei and Arthur after seeing their skill in riding and believed the bikes would be best utilised by them to help stop him when he becomes evil later (I think something along these lines is mentioned in episode 44, but it's been a while since I've seen it).

You raise a good question, and I'm not sure how Makoto and Kyoichi's bikes from our world ended up being Idaten Bikes… so I can only offer my own opinions on this one! 😅 My best theory is that either they were bikes made by Takeshi in the real world which ended up being owned by Makoto and Kyoichi (either because Takeshi gave it to them somehow or the bikes were sold to them) OR those bikes were originally normal bikes which Takeshi brought from our world and upgraded them into Idaten Bikes before returning them to their original owners, for the same reason he gave Gabu, Koei and Arthur their bikes.

I hope I was able to help!

[admiringlove]

growing pains. hello everybody. welcome to the second rendition of @angstober 2024! i hope you enjoy <3

kageyama tobio was a cute kid.

he moved in when you were just three. back then, your days were filled with learning big words, your mother patiently guiding you through children's books, when suddenly, a boy with an oversized, odd-looking ball came into your world. his hair was parted right down the middle, and every day, he’d be out in the yard, chasing after that strange ball with his grandfather, completely obsessed.

you were six when he first said hello. it took him two and a half years to work up the courage, and all because that ridiculous ball of his ended up in your front yard. without asking, he came through the gate, eyes wide with panic, just as you were about to head to the park.

“who are you?” you’d asked, head tilted with curiosity, and he’d stammered out his name like he’d been caught red-handed in a burglary. then, of course, you had to ask about the ball—bigger than his head. what was the deal with that? “it’s a volleyball,” he’d mumbled, and from that moment on, the two of you were intertwined, like a mystery waiting to unfold.

for the next ten years, kageyama tobio became your favorite puzzle. you chased after him like someone chasing a wild animal, half playfully, half determined. at first, it was a game—like you were sherlock and he, your elusive moriarty. your mother had always read you detective stories before bed, so solving the enigma that was kageyama seemed only natural.

when he turned seven, he found you in his front yard, peering through a magnifying glass, completely absorbed in your detective work. for an entire week, the two of you played with that thing, examining ants at the park, squinting at the pen strokes his father made in his books. eventually, he got bored. but you didn’t. no, you kept staring—sometimes at the world, but often at him.

you never tired of anything, especially not of him. you wanted to know more, to know everything. curiosity overflowed within you, spilling out like an unsolvable riddle. and you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat.

because it wasn’t just the world you wanted to uncover, not really. it was kageyama tobio. he was the one who truly fascinated you. when you learned in fifth grade that he had a soft spot for flavored milk, that was it. it became your little tradition. every so often, you’d head to the vending machine, and without fail, you’d grab him a drink—banana or strawberry, depending on the day. in return, he’d hand you the chips his mother packed in his lunch, like an unspoken exchange, as familiar as breathing. if it were up to him, it would always be strawberry.

and that’s how it was, the two of you orbiting each other like planets—his world of volleyball, your world of endless curiosity. playful, magnetic, bound together by rituals only you two understood.

you turned eleven and discovered that liking boys was a real thing. at first, the thought repulsed you; all you wanted was to bury yourself in the pages of sherlock holmes and pretend to play volleyball with kageyama. he was a prodigy, after all, dazzling everyone with his skills. kids from other districts flocked to watch him, enchanted by his talent. thankfully, he hadn’t yet transformed into an absolute twat; his ego was still catching up with him, lingering just out of reach.

“tobio,” you said one day, scrutinizing him as he carelessly set the ball near the riverbank. your gaze was fixed on the tips of his fingers, studying them as if they were an intricate puzzle waiting to be solved. he paused, turning to face you with a look of curiosity. “don’t your fingers hurt?”

“eh?” he replied, shuffling closer. with a flick of his wrist, he held out his hand toward you. “you mean this?”

the eleven-year-old boy displayed a myriad of calluses on his hands, more than you could count. you gasped in dramatic shock, a hand flying to your mouth, and couldn’t resist teasing him about his mother not noticing how rough and unsightly they had become. his eyes narrowed in mock indignation as he yelled at you for talking trash about his mother. you quickly apologized, laughter bubbling up as you declared you would simply have to complain about his “disgusting” hands instead.

that was the essence of your friendship—something sacred, woven from playful banter and shared secrets. the two of you were inseparable, bound by the threads of childhood innocence and mischief.

now, when you think back, it’s often to those moments—him proudly displaying his calluses as you played near the bridge by the river, the sun casting golden hues across the water. you remember walking home alongside him at sunset, a flutter of fear in your stomach about the kidnappers your father had warned you about just the other day. tobio had simply chuckled, telling you that you weren’t an actual genius like sherlock, so you couldn’t possibly be a target for any kidnapper anyway.

life was so simple, so beautifully uncomplicated, until you turned fourteen.

because that’s when you realized you had indeed grown up. you were on the winding road to adulthood, and suddenly, you found yourself hopelessly in love with your next-door neighbor, kageyama tobio—your best friend of eight years. he had sprouted taller, like a young tree reaching for the sky, and his voice had deepened into a rich timbre that sent butterflies flitting through your stomach. everything felt like it was shifting beneath your feet, especially as he found new friends who flocked to him like birds of a feather, while you remained nestled in your closely knit circle, distanced from him.

how were you supposed to navigate these newfound feelings? the conditions were far from ideal. how could you possibly have a crush on him while trying to maintain the friendship you cherished so much, especially when your social circles had diverged at school? being a teenager had suddenly morphed into a tangled web of complexities, each strand pulling you in different directions.

you still managed to walk home with him every day after your club activities, a routine that felt like a comforting ritual. you were quickly on your way to becoming the head of your literature club at junior high, while kageyama had been consumed by his passion for volleyball since he was just a kid. being next-door neighbors with the love of your life was undeniably convenient; it meant he had no choice but to stroll alongside you.

thankfully, the dynamic remained blissfully unchanged. the playful teasing, the exchange of strawberry and banana milk, and the shared bags of cheese puffs, or sometimes other chips, were the threads that wove your friendship together. it didn’t matter what snack you had; all you really wanted was to watch him sip through a thin plastic straw, the golden glow of the setting sun casting a warm halo around him as you walked the quiet streets together.

you cherished these moments, especially since he never hurried you along. instead, he walked slowly, savoring the time spent together, as if he genuinely enjoyed your company. this new pace allowed you both to appreciate the little things—the laughter of children playing in the distance, the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze, and the gentle warmth of the sun dipping below the horizon. it felt like a breath of fresh air, invigorating and sweet, a reminder that these small moments were treasures to be cherished.

but then you turned fifteen, and tobio transformed into someone unrecognizable. the boy who had once sparked your curiosity now seemed bitter and hardened, his heart cloaked in ego that swelled within him like a balloon about to burst. his tone had sharpened, cutting through the air like a knife, and he often wore a mask of rudeness that left you reeling. yet, despite it all, your heart still weakly fluttered whenever he was near, an instinctive reaction you couldn’t quite shake.

then it happened. one fateful day, as you walked past the gym to pick up tobio, you overheard a conversation that pierced through you like an arrow.

"aren't they your childhood friend? don't you think they're attractive, even if it's just a little?"

the words lingered in the air, but before you could savor the thought, his response shattered your heart.

"what? no! i could never see them like that. this is grossing me out. stop talking nonsense and focus on volleyball. you didn't spike this set on time!"

his words struck like a hammer, relentless and unforgiving, stomping on your heart a million times without him even realizing the damage he’d done. it was as if the boy you had cherished for so long had vanished, leaving behind only a shadow of the friendship you once held dear.

that day, you walked home alone for the first time ever, the silence of the empty streets echoing the ache in your chest. when the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, you felt a weight pressing down on you. the next day, he didn’t question your absence, didn’t seem to care at all. and in that moment, you understood: you were no longer the person he had once found intriguing. you were just a ghost of a past friendship, lost in the void that had replaced your bond. he was not moriarty anymore, and neither were you sherlock.

you wondered if you ever were.

slowly, you created a chasm between him and you. it was a drift you instigated, unaware of the full weight of your decision. one by one, he lost the people he once held close, and you stood on the sidelines, a silent witness, hoping desperately that he would grasp the hint you were trying to send.

then, one afternoon, while walking home with a small paper bag of eggs cradled in your arms, you collided with him. curses swirled through your mind as you attempted to sidestep him, but his voice cut through the air, halting your escape.

"aren't you cold?"

you raised an eyebrow, turning to meet his gaze, your heart racing with an unexpected mix of hope and apprehension. you hummed softly in response, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin. he repeated his question, and you shook your head, summoning a casualness you didn’t truly feel. "just a small walk. i didn't think i'd need a jacket."

"right," he mumbled under his breath, and the silence that followed felt thick with unspoken words. a part of you longed to mention his recent benching during the last match, but the fear of misinterpretation held you back, like a weight pressing on your tongue.

"are you doing okay nowadays?" the question slipped from your lips before you could stop it. you still cared, a part of you reluctant to sever the last thread binding you to him. it felt like that age-old adage—"curiosity killed the cat"—echoing in your mind, a reminder of your unfulfilled longing.

he opened his mouth, perhaps to share something profound, but then hesitated. you knew his expressions as well as the lines of your own heart; he seemed to weigh his words carefully. "i'm okay. i'm going to a high school called karasuno. you?"

the answer came too quickly, and the disappointment surged within you. "i'm going to seijoh, like oikawa and iwa-senpai," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "i enrolled there because i thought you'd be going there too. so, you know, we could walk together-"

he cut you off, the sharpness of his words slicing through the fragile moment. "we haven't done that in months, who are you kidding?"

you blinked, surprise washing over you like cold water. he was right. in the span of what felt like an eternity, the simple companionship you had once shared had faded into memory. perhaps your wishful thinking had blinded you to the reality; you were no longer the two kids wandering home together.

"i'm... sorry," you tilt your head, "have i done something to make you mad?"

you thought this was what he wanted—that he didn’t care for your tetra packs of strawberry or banana milk, that he was indifferent to your presence beside him as you walked home from school. the realization stung like a bee’s bite, leaving you with the unsettling notion that your companionship was as easily replaceable as the snacks you offered. but then he clicked his tongue, shaking his head with that familiar exasperation, his voice laced with sarcasm that dripped like spicy honey, sweet yet sharp.

“no. you can never do anything wrong, am i right?”

with that, he turned and walked into his house, leaving you standing there, the air heavy with unsaid words.

months passed without a glimpse of him. it was only when you were returning home from literature club, the sun dipping below the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement, that you spotted him. there he was, in a black uniform, juggling a volleyball under one arm while the other struggled to pry a few papers from between his teeth as he rummaged through his bag.

“do you need any help?” your voice sliced through the crisp evening air, a tentative offering. he blinked, momentarily surprised, before handing you the scattered papers and the ball.

“y-yeah. i’m looking for my keys. ever since miwa went off to college, there’s no one to open the door when i get home.”

“right,” you nodded, trying to maintain the semblance of normalcy. you didn’t need to fill the silence anymore; you were both ghosts of the friendship that once thrived in easy conversation. “i can walk in with these if you want. help you put them wherever, since it’s hard to carry everything together-”

“it’s okay,” he interrupted, his tone clipped, a habit you had grown all too familiar with. “i can take care of myself.”

your lips pressed together, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “alright then,” you replied, the words tasting bitter as they left your mouth.

but as you turned toward your front yard, the moment shattered into a sharp breath. “why did you stop walking home with me?” his voice rang out into the twilight, a challenge hanging between you like a fragile thread.

the world around you fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words. the confrontation hung in the space between you, an echo of the past colliding with the reality of the present. you hesitated, heart racing, caught in the tension of a friendship unravelling, desperately wanting to answer but unsure of how to put the fragments of your feelings into words. "you weren't yourself, i guess. that, and i heard you say something about me to someone. but never mind that. it doesn't matter anymore."

“what?” he furrows his brows, confusion etching deep lines on his forehead. “what do you mean you heard me say something about you to someone? what the hell did i even say for this to happen to us?”

“didn’t you want this to happen?” you retort, your words tumbling out like a well-rehearsed line from a play. “i thought you found me gross.”

he blinks, taken aback, his surprise evident in the widening of his eyes. “when did i ever say i found you gross? what is wrong with you?”

“what is wrong with me?” you echo, the fire in your chest igniting into a full blaze. you’re not quite sure where this rage is coming from, but it feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once. “what’s wrong with me is that it was my fault for ever loving you and thinking you could feel the same because you’re a selfish prick! you’re oblivious and dense and you don’t feel the same way about me, so i left because i didn’t want to be in a place where i wasn’t needed-”

realization crashes over you like a tidal wave in mid-sentence, the weight of your words suffocating. a hand flies to cover your mouth, the confession hanging in the air like an uninvited guest. his expression morphs into one of shock, the volleyball slipping from his grasp and hitting the pavement with a dull thud.

you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, the way his world seems to tilt on its axis, so you turn and flee, heart racing as you dart into your house, slamming the door behind you. the echo of your confession reverberates in your mind, each heartbeat reminding you of what you just unleashed—a truth that feels like it could shatter everything.

you avoided him for months after that moment, but still, you found yourself at every game, an invisible presence in the crowd. you watched as karasuno faced off against kamomedai, your heart aching with every spike and serve, each point a reminder of the distance that had grown between you. tobio had transformed into someone new, shedding his egotistical shell like a snake sloughing off its skin, and finding camaraderie with teammates who genuinely cared for him.

it filled you with anger. why couldn’t he have made this change years ago? if only he had, maybe letting go of your feelings would have been easier. instead, you felt trapped on the sidelines of his life, a spectator to a story that once intertwined your paths.

“w-what are you doing here?” a shaky voice pulls you from your thoughts as you exit the gym. you turn, startled, to find kageyama tobio standing before you. his chest heaves with exertion, droplets of sweat glistening on his skin, and he gazes at you as if you were a relic he had lost long ago.

“i... came to watch the game,” you reply, shrugging, trying to sound casual. “you did good. i hope your friend isn’t injured, by the way.”

“yeah... he’s uh- hinata’s fine,” he nods, his words a soft echo in the tense air. “thank you for coming. it means a lot.”

you press your lips into a straight line, nodding, the weight of the moment heavy between you. it feels like the right time to leave, to escape the growing tension, but he continues.

“i felt the same way about you back then,” he says, and your heart drops, your feet seemingly glued to the ground. his melancholic gaze pierces through you, and the heartbreak looms overhead like a storm cloud ready to burst. “i’m sorry if i hurt you.”

“y-you what?” you whisper, tilting your head as disbelief washes over you. “tobio, you-”

“i can’t say i feel that way now. all i can focus on from now on is volleyball,” he sighs, his gaze falling to the floor, the weight of his words suffocating. “but it really was great being friends with you. i hope we can... try that again sometime.”

in that moment, something within you shatters, the pieces scattering like autumn leaves in a gust of wind. you realize how deeply you had clung to him, how he had become the center of your universe; an object of desire you could never grasp. slowly, painfully, he had outgrown you, moving forward as you remained rooted in the past, a decision you made to push him away when he needed you the most.

perhaps this was what you deserved. perhaps this was how it was meant to be—him, chasing his dreams like icarus, and you, watching from the side lines, heart heavy with the weight of unfulfilled wishes and lost chances.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 6,350 Chapter Music Inspo: End of It - Friday Pilots Club

Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie

Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!

Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~

XxXx

Prologue

It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.

Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.

They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.

It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.

Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle.

It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.

Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.

Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.

You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.

The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.

It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.

You would take the job.

Not to be a spy for Kier.

Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.

It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.

But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.

However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.

...one year and a couple months later....

It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.

That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.

You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.

It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a little over a year into your career.

The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.

Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.

Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.

When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.

And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.

Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.

When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.

Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.

And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.

Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”

Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”

“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”

The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”

“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”

Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”

You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”

You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.

“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.

If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.

“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.

Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.

XxXx

Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.

Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.

The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.

“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.

But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”

You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.

“You forgot your bag.” He observed.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”

“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.

“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”

If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.

Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.

You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.

“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”

He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”

His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.

Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?

Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.

He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?

“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.

Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.

A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”

“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.

Subtle.

Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.

What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.

And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.

So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.

Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.

Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.

Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over a year of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.

So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over his naked chest.

You know, simple.

The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.

Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.

Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.

He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?

Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.

"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.

You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.

Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.

It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.

Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.

It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.

You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.

He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.

Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.

Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.

Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.

Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.

He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.

Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.

Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.

Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remained.

Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”

Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!

He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"

Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.

You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.

Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.

"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.

"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.

"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.

He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."

You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.

Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.

He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”

You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.

"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.

You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.

The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.

You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.

"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"

"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."

Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.

Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.

And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.

And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.

XxXx

Next Chapter

[hiuythn]

Hi, how are you? If you don't mind me asking, what are your top 7 favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series/etc)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before...... Thanks....

hi! I'm doing great, thank you for asking! I haven't thought of a top 7 before so that's interesting to think about. hm...I guess it would probably be:

1. Haikyū!! (it's so simple but it's so good. I heard Furudate created it to get people into volleyball and I'm confident in saying that he succeeded. there's just something so refreshing about it, but underneath everything, it still manages to communicate a thoughtful message that where you are today is not where you'll be tomorrow, and that the journey brought on by your passion—while it may not get your end—still has meaning in its pursuit.)

2. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun by Meatbun doesn't Eat Meat (xianxia danmei. my god, I went into this novel thinking it was another low-hanging fruit enemies to lovers type bait where the ML is basically abusive and the MC is a weak backboned twink, but no. no the story had me screaming, sobbing, and begging the author to stop because it hurt too much. I was in tears and I was laughing and I was in love and I was praying for them to be happy so, so bad. it's actually insane. NOTHING will beat how Meatbun managed to make me reconcile Chu Wanning's cold exterior with his soft heart, and Mo Ran's past life with his current one. I was actually baffled by how many fucking revelations, foreshadowing, and plot twists (that made sense and didn't come out of left field entirely) this book managed to have. Meatbun expertly weaved humor, tragedy, horror, mystery and romance all into one misleadingly-packaged book and I feel delightfully bamboozled.)

3. Turning by 쿠유 (Korean historical bl novel. Still reading this one, but the deep unspoken trust the MC and ML have for each other is really awe-inspiring, and they're also very competent at what they do. The relationships with their subordinates and allies are also really heartwarming. The plot is sufficiently interesting as well, and not just something cobbled together to make the characters kiss lol—not that that's bad intrinsically, but it can get old after a while.)

4. Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rock Riordan (everyone knows this one. I love it because I grew up reading it, and then reading it to my sister out loud with the voices and everything. I love an MC that just consistently doesn't know what he's doing and yet sees things through to the end, and whose motto is just "fuck it, fuck this, and fuck you". and again Percy and Annabeth have that "bantering duo who trust and balance each other out and are also very, very good at what they do" type relationship that I'm such a sucker for.)

5. Bleach by Tite Kubo (one of the Big 3 manga serialized back then. I'm down bad for the art, he's one of my favourite mangaka in terms of art style, and also it's nostalgic. I grew up watching ichigo fight through impossible odds with just his "fuck you don't touch my people" mentality. are you starting to see a pattern with me and protective, headstrong MCs? the cast of side characters are all pretty memorable, despite its growing size down the line and again, i love their designs. I know people gripe a lot about the plot and continuity errors, but I enjoyed it regardless—except for the accursed ending and Epilogue Dad Haircut..)

6. Montmorency by Eleanor Updale (victorian crime fiction novel. I was sent this as compensation in, like, 5th grade when the Scholastic Fair delivered the wrong order to me. I didn't expect to like it but it was surprisingly a good standalone read. i used to reread it loads but it's been about a decade now so some details are blurry, but i am very fond of it still.)

7. A Quiet Place (horror movie, though for me it's less horror and more of a family-centric movie. I'm awful with horror, I'm such a wuss, but this movie was so good with its character dynamics and the ending was so fitting that I couldn't help but rewatch it and have it engrained in my head. I haven't watch the other movies in this series and tbh I fully believe the first movie is sufficient on its own, not to say the other suck, I just have no urge to watch them. this movie was such a palate cleanser for me in cinema.)

thank you for your ask, had a lot of fun coming up with this list!

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a bachelorette party

10pm, sunday, aug 6, 2023

we're officially in the period of the summer that has been planned out since months and months ago, in the lead up to some dear friends' wedding; time is telescoping in a very odd way! after traveling the past two weeks, my re-entry was good but hard; i came back from my trip thinking i'd be all revitalized and looking around me with new eyes, which in a way i did, but then i was also pretty wiped. i didn't really want to spend all week hibernating, but i guess it was good to recharge my batteries since i also had five different party/gathering-type things (three this weekend, including the aforementioned bachelorette).

reading can't forget to mention finishing carmen maria machado's in the dreamhouse, which was gripping and devastating and still beautiful somehow. the experience of reading it was so...i couldn't stop once i got started, you know? short fragmented chapters, some funny, some incredibly sad. every once in a while there would be a detail or an allusion to something i could relate to, punctuating the intense surreality / unreality used to talk about the abuse with a sudden concrete reality that was. striking. loved the device of the footnotes, pointing out where certain things are matching up with folklore tropes? as a form of foreshadowing and ironic, devastating commentary? inspired. that's just one detail, but it's one i can sum up.

abrupt tonal shift and getting back to fantasy / adventure, a.k. larkwood's the unspoken name has been very engaging this week too. part one was...fresh but in a comforting sort of vein, with a young protag escaping a bad fate under the protection of a new mysterious mentor, who then helps her get an education, martial arts training, before he sends her out on a mission--reminded me of half a dozen beloved fantasy novels, with the addition of some fun details! for example, neither is actually described in much detail, but our main character and her mentor are clearly not Human; she has grey skin and tusks (my mind went right to a dnd-style orc?) and he has mobile, elongated ears, which seem to telegraph his emotions much like those in the goblin emperor and was an *immediate* delight to envision. just about a third of the way through this one now; it feels like a locked tomb book with a slightly different magic system, and i'm really enjoying it.

watching plane movies while returning home:

the battle of the sexes (2017) -- entertaining more because i didn't know the history and always enjoy the depiction of historical women's sports and sports teams; emma stone is great but has virtually no chemistry with either of her romantic counterparts, painfully straight energy overall. i was too entertained by watching steve carell and sarah silverman in their respective period hair and makeup . kudos to whoever was the tennis stunt doubles, it was legitimately fun to try and follow the games.

banshees of inisherin (2022) -- people who talk about the overdone stereotyped blarney-filled hollywood depiction of ireland in this one are missing the fact that it's an intentional (ironic?) depiction; see, the imprecision when it comes to year/time passing / calendars and whatnot. sort of waiting for godot-y in its heightened reality / absurdity. my lukewarm take is that it was definitely meant to be a play, and would have worked a lot better that way. not sure i'll watch it again, not sure i *got* it, but it will certainly live in my brain rent-free.

finished strange world (2022) as a palate cleanser-- i wanted to support it, the box office and overall reception to this was pretty disappointing but it's fine! like it's a cute kids' movie! you know, disney's first gay character, thinly veiled climate analogy lesson, absolutely gorgeous animation and colors, what's not to love.

the first three episodes of season 1 of the white lotus . hypnotizing like a train wreck, but i'll wait until i've seen more of it to give a real write-up.

listening you ever watch a viral video and then realize you're captivated by both the cute videos of people dancing and the soundtrack? (and recognizing the background scenery, and it turns out i was right!!) anyway i went and found these two tracks courtesy of just this experience, so thanks to youtuber thoraya i guess?

UPDATE: saw hadestown live today!!! the original broadway recording didn't prepare me for how much i would love it, how dynamic and captivating the live band and incredible ensemble would be-- and of course i was crying almost immediately, and was clutching my chest during 'wait for me' both times. but then again, the performance i saw didn't include this one instrumental track i love and had on my semester playlist all spring, so here:

playing finally got the cut-scene celebrating my community center completion in stardew, hell yeah. had two great dnd sessions; one campaign successfully defeated a monstrously-oversized jaguar and decided which faction we're going to attempt to win over first, while the other group went shopping and spent some downtime at base and gathering info on some individual plots! napoleon did exist in this world and was a gnome, and our organization assassinated him apparently??, also this just feels like a good time to mention that their resume also includes '1841 – Controlled controversy riots when “Dinosaurs” suggested as a creature alongside and separate from “Dragons” ', which sent us into absolute hysterics when the DM shared that.

making it's summer, so i crowdsourced a ratatouille recipe and could not have been happier with the outcome. saving it here for posterity!

working on i was very diligent with RA work this week, since it feels like i always neglect it over the summer for absolutely no reason, especially since it like. pays me. but i also have been using it as productive procrastination since i'm actively dragging my heels in sending the last few students their essay feedback and grade breakdowns from the summer course. it means confronting my judgments and math and possible mistakes from earlier in july, and trying to either defend or amend them as necessary, and i just have been. napping rather than actually do it. which is silly, and also stupid since i have actual work to be doing! just get this over with, and you can be free!

[ridhearts]

VAMP AU - basics ii.

The Savanaclaw Coven is a difficult one to get close to (and live to tell the tale). You’re free to try to satiate your curiosity - just pray they don’t try to satiate their thirst before you’re ready to leave.

CW: blood, death, stalking/hunting, religious imagery, dark/obsessive/possessive characters. this au is not NSFW, but it does deal with darker content and sometimes discusses sensuality and sensual topics. reader discretion is advised.

overview. ❧ heartslabyul. {savanaclaw.} octavinelle. scarabia. pomefiore. ignihyde. diasomnia.

The Savanaclaw Coven is one of the only covens where vampires prefer warm, sunny areas. There is no strong relationship between these vampires officially - their leader doesn’t seem to care about any of them, honestly - but there is an unspoken brotherhood between the members of the coven. They are overwhelmingly nocturnal, and simply like warm areas because they cannot stand that they are cold and like to lounge on sun-warmed rocks like lizards. The vampires usually can communicate with or control the animals in the area they live in or, in some instances, can shapeshift into an animal OTHER than a bat. Because of this close association with the wildlife, vampires of the Savanaclaw Coven prefer feeding off of humans over animals. Besides, humans taste better and they make for a far more interesting chase. 

Many can be satiated with a deal to be a renewable blood source for them…but you’ll never know if they intend to step back on their word not to drain you dry until it’s too late.

༻ ✞ ✟ ✞ ༺

Leona Kingscholar - Cold-Blooded Creature

Leona thinks everything is stupid. He’s immortal, and far stronger than any prey in his area, so what’s the point of exerting all that energy to hunt when he rarely needs it and can best anyone whenever he needs to? Humans are stupid, with their dumb little tales about evil creatures of the night and how they think they’d ever be able to land a hit with a wooden stake. Vampires are stupid, with their stuffy traditions and etiquette and outdated laws. Everything is stupid, so he’ll just sleep through it.

Leona is a true vampire, with a “biological” brother. Their father’s power has mysteriously gotten weaker and has been in hiding for centuries now. Leona’s brother found out about human family units and was rather enchanted, so he has his own wife and child (Leona thinks the idea was dumb, but he knows better than to say it out loud.)

Falena is the true head of the coven, but he stays within the vampire realm. Leona has always been regarded as lesser than his brother, both for his attitude and the fact that there is no real point to him existing unless his father was counting on Falena dying, which he wasn’t - so, seeing how miserable Leona was, sent him to be the main proxy for the Savanclaw coven. Falena secretly hopes to see a day where humans and vampires can exist in peace, and he’s constantly bothering Leona by asking how the humans are.

Leona is a solitary creature and never checks up on his coven members. He only ventures into the nearest human town when he needs to feed, and if he feels as though they need to be kept in check. Normally, this doesn’t happen - unless they start thinking that he can be bested.

It’s unlikely that he’ll ever find anything to be worth his time, least of all a human - so he thought before he met you. Don’t be alarmed if you suddenly have a very strange and persistent nocturnal shadow with unnaturally large teeth. Leona doesn’t plan on turning you without your consent, just messing around with you until he decides on something better. He does, however, think you’d be sweet to have around if you were begging him for another drink of some blood he stockpiled just for you…maybe you should consider becoming amenable to eternity by his side.

༻ ✞ ✟ ✞ ༺

Ruggie Bucchi - Odds of Survival

Ruggie is a turned vampire who was left to figure out hunting for himself shortly after his turning. He got enough, but he’s had to compensate for his magic and he’s a little underdeveloped because of his poor diet as a fledgling. Still, he’s one of the best hunters around, and an expert at blending in with a human crowd now.

He works with Leona, mainly to ensure that he’s always got a safe place to stay. Ruggie’s had to run from villages before who got a little too confident that they could slay him before. Besides, if Leona is the proxy for the coven head, maybe Leona could throw in a good word for him if he ever has to retreat to the vampire realm during a dark period.

Ruggie is almost like the Cater of the Savanaclaw coven, in that he has the hookup for “blood buddies” (although he didn’t give it a cutesy name like that). Having a good thing going is way less effort and way more reliable than having to hunt yourself. They’ll stop feeding on your pigs if you gather some friends and offer up your wrists every other month or so, yeah? The coven will keep the turnings down to a minimum IF there’s a solid blood supply in there for them. Come on, isn’t that a good deal?

He also winds up keeping track of who has kept up their end of the bargain and who thought they were smart enough to fall through. He can take out a few of these liars on his own, and he rarely even asks Leona. Ruggie figures that they’re disgracing the coven name and hurting Leona’s pride, so he wouldn’t mind if they were gone, right?

Life as a Savanclaw vampire is actually kind of lonely, and Ruggie sometimes wishes one, just one of the humans weren’t so afraid of him so he could…have a friend? He hasn’t thought that one through very well, but there’s a wistfulness that hits him when he looks at the town skyline for too long. So if you happen to come into his life, completely unaware of what he’s capable of…well, you’ll find out soon enough, because Ruggie will find himself wanting to keep you around forever. Forever forever.

༻ ✞ ✟ ✞ ༺

Jack Howl - Lost from the Pack

Jack is a true vampire, and he used to be part of one of the close-knit factions within the Savanaclaw coven. However, he got separated a long time ago, and just kept wandering around the first village he found. 

As one of the vampires that can shapeshift into an animal other than a bat, he winds up using this power quite a lot. He’s very big, which makes stealth kind of difficult, and people are much more belligerent about a hulking man following them than a big wolf. It’s much easier to follow them around when they think they can outsmart him like some dumb dog.

Jack hasn’t been in the vampire realm for a while. Since he was part of a close-knit pack, they tended to stay in the human realm where close relationships weren’t as taboo or strange as they are in the vampire realm. Still, he has no specific loyalty to humans. Even if he DID think they were charming and kind of cute (which he “doesn’t”), he’d still turn on them if another war were to break out (maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. He hopes he doesn’t have to find out.)

Jack doesn’t expect to ever find his pack again - it’s been centuries since they’ve been gone. Still, he likes the idea of starting his own - he’d have to find more vampires, true, but that can wait until he convinces you, the human he’s grown inexplicably attached to, to let him turn you.

[ikeromantic]

Entwined Ch 3

Trying out some cover art for this story ^_^ Images from Pexels!

Part 3 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul. Approx. 3700 words.

Part 1

Previous: Entwined Ch 2

Mai sighed at the inventory spread out on her design tables. This was her least favorite part of sewing. There were a ton of odds and ends she needed to find a use for. Buttons and beads and trim that didn’t amount to enough for a real commission. Maybe she could do something crafty with them. Mai sketched out a few quick ideas. A lampshade, an apron. Maybe a decorative pillow? 

None sounded very appealing. The apron idea was the best, but did people even wear those anymore? She rubbed her temple, hoping for a burst of inspiration. Just then, her office door swung open almost like an answer to her unspoken plea. Mai leapt to her feet, ready to greet a new customer, but it was Mitsuhide on the step. 

“Good morning, little mouse.” He came in and the door shut behind him.

“Good morning?” She felt incredibly pleased to see him there, followed by embarrassment for being so eager. Keep it professional, she told herself. “I must have misunderstood your email. I thought we were meeting at the address you sent in about two hours?”

His smile widened as if he could see past her words and straight into her racing heart. “We were. You did not misunderstand. But my errands this morning brought me through your neighborhood, so I thought I would offer to pick you up. But if you prefer . . .” He gestured to the door.

Mai shook her head. “Oh! No, that’s really nice of you.” She took a breath, reminding herself to calm down and speak like a human. “Just give me a moment to wrap up here.”

“Sure.” Mitsuhide sat on one of the lobby couches, lounging like an indolent cat. He looked so sure of himself, so comfortable everywhere he was, she thought. 

She tried not to glance at him as she shut down her laptop. He drew her eye though. It was more than his looks, she decided, though that was plenty to like. It was the way he carried himself. As if he knew things, secrets and hidden stories, as if he carried the weight and mystery of that knowledge.

“Do I have something on my face?” Mitsuhide’s smile turned wicked. 

Mai felt her cheeks heat. “Umm. Yes. A bit of fluff.” A lie, and a bad one at that but better than admitting to her thoughts.

“Oh? Could you brush it off for me? Since I can’t see it.”

“I . . .” She swallowed. “Sure.” It was just his cheek. Just his cheek. Just his - her fingertips grazed his skin and with that touch came an image, unbidden. In her mind’s eye, she was cupping his cheek in her palm, reaching through some sort of wooden cage. His face was bruised and swollen, but his eyes were the same. Mai jerked her hand back.

Mitsuhide raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Did you get it or did it get you?”

Mai gave a half-hearted laugh. What a weird thing to think of. “I got it. Sorry.”

He stood. “So are we ready to go?”

“Ready.” She grabbed her bag and shoved her notepad into it. “Will I need to take photographs of the site or anything?”

“If you want to.” Mitsuhide opened the door for her and then waited as she locked it behind them. 

“Ok. So what is this place? Is it involved in your script?”

He nodded. “In a way, yes.” Mitsuhide helped her into his car. 

It was, Mai noted, a very nice car. New enough to have all the bells and whistles, anyway. She wondered what he did besides theater work to afford this kind of thing, but it wasn’t polite to ask. 

“It’s more a mood. Inspiration.” He shrugged and offered her a smile from his driver’s seat. “I am hoping you’ll feel it too.” 

There was some unexpected earnestness in his gaze, a momentary vulnerability gone as soon as noticed. Mai wished she could have it back, just a little longer. Which was silly, of course.

He parked at a garage a few blocks from their destination. On the walk there, he was mostly quiet. Only stopping to point out a handful of historical markers. Mai tried to pay attention, making notes in her journal. She didn’t think this information would apply to costuming decisions, but you never knew what might spark inspiration.

It turned out the historical site they were heading to was barely a ruin. It sat, preserved, in a small patch of green at the edge of a lake. Just a few large stones and the bare remnant of a rock wall. 

“So, what is this place? Or what was it?”

Mitsuhide pulled himself up onto one of the large stones and sat down, his legs dangling off the side. “A place with a good view.” He patted the spot next to him.

“I don’t think I can get up there.”

“I’ll help.” He gave her a playful grin at odds with the weight of his gaze. “Come on.”

Mai tucked her bag behind her and tried to clamber up beside him. There wasn’t much to get hold of, but thankfully Mitsuhide was true to his offer. He reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her up. “Thanks.”

“All the thanks I need is you sitting here beside me.” He winked.

“You know, some people might get the wrong idea with the way you talk to me.” Mai gave him a critical look. “I’m just your costume designer. We’re like . . . co-workers at best.”

Mitsuhide put a hand to his chest. “How cruel. Merely co-workers? What if I told you that you mean more to me than that?”

His melodramatic expression made her giggle. “I would tell you that you’re an excellent actor.” He continued to make a stricken expression. “Oh come on,” Mai chided, “we barely know each other. You can’t act offended by me wanting to set this straight. I’m just your costumiere, right?”

“You aren’t just anything, Mai.” He dropped his over the top reaction and looked out at the lake. It looked like gold in the afternoon sunlight. “What if I’d like to know you better? We could be so much more to each other than co-workers.”

“I would tell you what I’ve told the guys that hit on me before you. I don’t date my customers. I’m sorry.” She felt her chest constrict as she turned him down. Some part of her screaming that this was not what she wanted. But she ignored it. 

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Then it’s a good thing I’m only teasing. Come on, costumiere.” He pointed to the lake. “Feeling any design inspiration? I was hoping you could incorporate the color and look of water. That dramatic fluidity. And the sense of something being old and grounded, like the remains of this castle.”

Mai felt deflated by his admission. Only teasing. It wasn’t disappointment she felt, or so she told herself. No! This was irritation at being taunted. Taken in by his silly act. She promised herself she wouldn’t let him get the better of her again. Mai took out her little notepad and jotted down a few ideas, focusing on the project.

They sat together in an awkward silence for a few moments. Mitsuhide watching her write, and she doing her best to ignore him. She wanted to stay annoyed but the cool breeze and the gentle sound of water and birdsong smoothed over her wounded pride. 

“There’s that smile.” Mitsuhide chuckled. “I was beginning to think I broke your heart.”

“In your wildest dreams. I always get serious when it’s about design.” Mai snapped her notepad shut and tucked it away. “So is this all you needed from me today?”

He leapt down from the rock and held out a hand to her. “Yes, though I’ll need you to bring the mockups for Act One to the theater next week. Will they be ready by then?”

Mai nodded. “I should be able to manage that. And it will be a good opportunity to check the fit for your cast.” She took his hand, ignoring the warmth that sent prickles up her arm from where their palms touched. 

Mitsuhide squeezed her fingers gently then helped her down. He only smiled when she snatched her hand back. “You know, there is one more thing I need from you today . . .”

A short while later, Mai found herself seated comfortably at a fine restaurant. It was the kind of place people dressed up and made reservations for, but this time of day it was mostly empty. “Are you sure this is ok, Mitsuhide? I don’t need you to buy me-”

“It’s a thank you for putting up with my whims.” Mitsuhide smiled. “Besides, I know the owner here and he’s been after me to come try his new menu.”

“If you say so.” She glanced around the dining room noting the expensive decor. Even the wait staff was dressed better than she was today. “So what kind of food do they have here? I didn’t see any menu.”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “Whatever the chef is in the mood to make. But I’m told it’s always good.”

“You don’t know if it’s good or not?”

Before he could answer, a man in a chef’s apron caught their attention. He was making a beeline for their table. He had a broad, cheerful smile that lit his single blue eye. His other eye was covered by an old-fashioned eye patch, embroidered in the center with a tiny crescent moon. 

Mai didn’t have much time to observe him before he was right there, pulling her into a hug.

“Kitten! It’s so good to see you!”

Normally, being hugged by strange men was not on Mai’s list of acceptable things. But there was something warm and familiar about this man. Still, she didn’t want him to get the wrong  idea. She pushed back gently and he let go.

“This,” Mitsuhide sighed, “is my friend, Masamune. Masamune, this is Mai. Please don’t call her kitten.”

“It’s, uhm, it’s nice to meet you?” Mai felt her cheeks heating as he stared at her. The look in his sapphire eye was so intense. As if they were long lost lovers or friends separated a long time ago and now, unexpectedly, reunited. 

At her words though, his smile faded a bit and he stepped back. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you too.” He looked at Mitsuhide. “I should have figured you would only stop in for her. You never eat properly on your own.”

“My nutrition is adequate,” he replied, sounding mildly annoyed. “I am just taking my co-worker out for a thank you lunch and since I can’t cook . . .”

Masamune laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll whip up something special for the two of you. A take on my seasonal menu.” He reached for Mai’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “Thank you for coming in today.”

When he left, Mai let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Is he . . . is he always like that?”

“More or less.” Mitsuhide sat back in his seat, looking more relaxed than usual. 

“You two must be very good friends. How long have you known him?”

“A long time.” He had that pensive look again, though his lips were still lifted in his familiar grin.

Mai didn’t want to pry, but when he looked like that, it made her heart feel bruised. “Are you alright, Mitsuhide? I mean, I know you’re ok, but if there’s something you want to talk about, I can listen. I don’t mind.” 

He studied her expression, his fingers tapping a delicate rhythm on the tabletop. “It’s not the right time. And besides,” he smirked, “we’re just co-workers. I don’t want to cross a line.”

She could tell by his tone that he was teasing her. But he was right. She’d reinforced that boundary today and now, here she was, acting as if there were more between them. It felt like there was more between them. “Ah yeah,” she gave a half-hearted laugh. “Sorry. I just meant-”

“I know what you meant.” He reached across the table and patted her hand. “You are too kind. You really should be careful who you let see your soft heart.” 

His touch was brief, light, but it still sent her heart galloping away. Mai took a deep breath, trying to settle. Her attraction to him was ridiculous. Childish. She needed to get herself under control. It was really lucky for her that despite being such a tease, he was a gentleman. Here he was again, warning her. “Thanks,” she managed. 

Thankfully, Masamune appeared with their food just then, or she might have had to think of what else to say. He was carrying a tray covered in little dishes. The food was gorgeous and smelled good. 

“Are those radishes shaped like bunnies? And you made little snakes out of the cucumber!” Mai’s eyes darted excitedly from dish to dish. A variety of pickled vegetables, noodles in sauce, fruit, and fusion dishes, all made to look like little woodland creatures. There was even a pepper cut to look like a hawk. It reminded her of her visitor the day before. 

Masamune chuckled. “I thought you might appreciate that touch.”

“You are so talented! Ooh and look! A little kitty!” She pointed at a carrot.

“That’s a tiger, lass. See the stripes?” Masamune lifted it with her chopsticks and held it out to her. 

Mai peered at it. The shape still looked more like a cute kitty to her but she nodded agreement anyway. “He is pretty stripey. You did such a good job with him!”

“And he tastes good too.” He held it to her lips. “Try it.”

Mitsuhide frowned. “You don’t need to feed her.”

“I don’t need to, but she doesn’t mind, right lass?”

 Mai blushed. She didn’t want to make the chef feel bad. He seemed like such a sweet guy and he’d made all this especially for them. But it was weird being fed by someone else. She decided to get it over with quickly. The tiger-carrot was delicious. Lightly sweet and a little spicy. “Oh. My. God. Masamune . . . this is so so good.”

“I’m glad you like it. With that kind of reaction, I’d be happy to cook for you anytime.”

“You’re going to make him insufferable,” Mitsuhide sighed. He speared the rabbit-radish and stuck it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Tastes like . . . food.”

Masamune set the chopsticks down and gave Mitsuhide a withering look. “You never appreciate my cooking. But one day - one day I’m going to make something even you have to admit is tasty.”

Mai could not help but laugh at the two of them. “You guys are like an old married couple. Arguing over dinner.”

“It’s lunch. And for that comment I ought to take the whole thing back to the kitchen and let my staff eat it.” Masamune’s lips pursed in a pout.

If he looked sour, it wasn’t a patch on the face Mitsuhide made. “You should take that back. Or there will be consequences.”

“Consequences?” Mai giggled. “You are too much.”

Her laugh seemed to soothe the chef. His smile returned. “Well, I can’t stay mad at you, Mai. And hey, my offer stands. You can stop by anytime. Hell, if you come by after hours, I’ll even give you a cooking lesson, gratis.” Masamune bustled back to the kitchen to finish prep for the dinner rush.

When he was gone, Mitsuhide sighed. “I apologize for him. I forgot how he is around y- around women. I should have taken you someplace else.”

“No, no, he’s fine. A little . . . handsy? I don’t think I’ve ever been hugged and hand-fed by someone at first meeting. But he seems very nice.” She smiled. “I can tell you two have been friends awhile.”

“Yes.” Mitsuhide grew quiet, his eyes turning toward his food.

Mai didn’t want to pry. So much about him was a mystery, questions he would not answer, feelings she couldn’t square herself with, and images like memories that flitted through her mind but didn’t stick long enough for her to analyze them. It was probably just her loneliness and overactive imagination. Mitsuhide was a normal guy who just didn’t like to talk about his private life with a - a coworker. 

She picked up her chopsticks and began sampling a selection of bowls. Some were so spicy it almost hurt. Some were sweet. Others had a smoky flavor, or a delicate mix of savory flavors. Masamune’s cooking made lunch an experience rather than just a meal. Mai looked up between bites to see if Mitsuhide was enjoying it as much as she was. 

To her horror, he’d taken several of the bowls and dumped them into one, eating the resulting mix without any expression. He glanced up and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Did you just . . . throw everything together?” 

“Yes. It’s more efficient that way. And I have vegetables, fruit, protein, and carbohydrates. A little of everything.”

Mai frowned. “But then you’re not really tasting any of it. Every dish is a little different. Like, those noodles you threw in. They have a subtle lemon flavor you won’t taste at all, mixing it with that spicy fish.”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what it tastes like. It’s all going to get mixed together in the end, right?”

“Are you serious? But, but you’re friend is an amazing chef. Why would you eat here if - if you’re just going to do that?”

“One, because I thought you would enjoy it. And two, because Masamune likes to feed me.” He smiled. “Am I wrong about the first one?” His golden eyes lit up as he looked at her. The expression felt almost intimate, as if he’d peeled back the layers of her social mask and saw right into her mind.

She took a drink to hide her discomfort. “No. Of course not. I think I’m pretty obviously enjoying the meal.”

“Then don’t complain about how I eat it, little mouse. I am enjoying this meal in my own way.” He reached over and wiped a little smudge of sauce from her cheek, then stuck his finger in his mouth. “I think I do like that one. Which dish was it from?”

The gesture wasn’t drawn out or exaggerated, but it came across as sensual to Mai. She couldn’t even answer for a moment. It felt like her breath was stuck in her chest and her cheek, where he’d touched it, was on fire. 

“This one?” He pointed with his chopstick to a sticky-sweet rice and fruit dish.

“Ummm. Ahh. Th-this-” She pointed to another one with tart cherries and bits of sweet melon.

“Thank you.” He took the bowl and added a bit of it to his food-slush. Then he took a bite. “Mmmm. Yes. Though I think the sauce on its own was sweeter.” He smiled at Mai and then frowned. “Are you alright? You’re looking a bit flushed.”

She could absolutely tell from his tone that he was teasing. Or. She was pretty sure he was. He had to know what he’d done was - was very flirtatious. How was a girl supposed to take that? Mai swallowed. “Yep. Yeah. Just fine.” He had to be teasing her again and she was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“Good. I would hate to think our outing today left you feeling badly.” His grin widened ever so slightly. 

Mai tucked her flustered heart away and tried to secure her mask of professionalism. For whatever reason, Mitsuhide had a way of getting under her skin but she was going to beat him at this game. She was going to be the most competent, absolutely not interested in dating, costumiere he’d ever worked with. 

She held onto that thought as she smiled back. “No, not at all. And now I have some great ideas for the lead designs and palace costumes. So thank you.”

He nodded. “I see. Then we should head back and let you get started. I don’t want to take up your whole day.”

Mai did not tell him she’d cleared her calendar for him today. That would be akin to admitting how much she enjoyed his company. No, she just agreed. 

Of course, Masamune wouldn’t accept their money when it came time to leave. He pressed a dessert on her, all packed up in a gorgeous little decorative container, and ‘leftovers’ too, tied shut with pretty bows and carefully layered into a colorful bag. She promised she would be back, and she planned to do it too. Her friends Asami and Kaiya would love this place. 

Mitsuhide drove her back to the office. On the way, they chatted about all sorts of inconsequential things. The songs on the radio, weather, new films coming out this month. It felt like words used to fill the silence between them. A quiet that was more honest and more frightening. 

She felt it every time his gaze landed on her. She thought he only looked at her that way when he thought she was distracted, but she caught him. A weight heavier than gold in his eyes, each moment created a pressure that built in the space between them and squeezed out all the air. It made her light headed. 

When the car pulled up to the curb, she almost didn’t get out. Mai wanted to ask him why - why he looked at her with so much gravity. They’d agreed today. Co-workers. Client and costumiere. Was it only her that felt there was something more beneath that? And if he felt it too, then why these teasing games? But she couldn’t find the words to ask him these questions. 

“See you later,” she squeaked, embarrassed by the break in her voice as she spoke. 

“Not too much later, I hope.” He took her hand and turned it palm up in his. His fingers traced the lines of her palm. 

Mai snatched it away as if scalded. “Of course not. I’ll bring the mock-ups over on Monday.”

His thin, sharp smile lit up with amusement. “Absence shall make my heart grow fonder.” He looked away. “See you Monday then, at the theater.”

Next: Chapter 4

[neoskidz]

The Heart Stealer || Na Jaemin

WC. 1.5K 

GENRE. Fluff / Phantom thief!au / High school!au

ELSIE’S NOTE. This is an old fic I had published before, titled “His Fallen Star”. The content itself doesn’t that much different, but with some upgrade. And some of you might be familiar from which anime this fic was inspired ;) 

SUMMARY. 

Being one of the famous detective’s closest childhood friends does have its perks, especially when a certain phantom thief takes interest in you. Little did you two know, this thief is closer than you thought.

TAGLIST. [Networks] @czennienet​​ @neowritingsnet​​ @dreamwritersnet​​ @nct-writers​​

Being one of the famous detective closest childhood friends do have its perks; such as him taking you to every case he works on to sharing secrets about a mysterious Black Organization that keeps targeting him. But of course, you’d promised to keep all that information to yourself as well as helping him with preventing the others from finding out. He didn’t want to worried them than they already were now.

Tonight was the grand opening of the museum which location that you found rather odd; it’s built quite far from the city where, you have to admit, wasn’t really your usual construction site for historical museums and people that invited to the grand opening were no other than conglomerates. 

The only reason for you—an normal high school student with no power or status—to be invited to the celebration was because of a certain famous detective who wanted to tagged you along. But, he’s already gone off into the sea of guests, leave you alone without knowing what to do. You tried to remember the phantom thief’s notice while looking around the room.

When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike, and steal the fallen star.  

Paused in your tracks as you took a moment to process the riddle in the notice. ‘When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike… that means he’s coming when the sun sets.’  Your gaze travelled forward and landed on a glass case-located on the stage in the middle of the crowded room-covered under a thick, red cloth where the “Fallen Star” placed.  

You furrowed your brows, something’s not right here. The notice was so straightforward, too straightforward for the phantom thief’s term. It must have some meaning behind the notice.

“[Name],” You turned around to saw Mark ran toward you. “Find anything suspicious?”

“Yeah. It’s about the-” You tried to tell him about the strange notice but was interrupted when a bearded-old-man, who is suspected to be the owner of the museum walks to the main stage where the Fallen Star been shown, spoke into the microphone that’s provided on stage. Claps can be heard from the guests as the light turn down low. Polices stand not far from the stage, guarding the necklace against any danger possibility.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming to the grand opening of Seoul Jewelry Museum. As for our tonight main event, we will see the famous Fallen Star.”  

The red cloth fell onto the stage, revealing the clear glass case out in the open for all to see. But instead of cheers and clasps like earlier, numerous gasps and shocked murmurs escaped the large crowd. All the lights turn down, making the room completely dark. A familiar laugh can be heard around the room.

“Najaem!” The unspoken name in your mind was shouted by a man beside you whose voice belongs to none other than Mark.

“Ah, Mark Lee, it is good to see your lovely glare again,” You heard the phantom thief’s silk-smooth voice spoke. “And looks like you bring your beautiful companion too.” 

“I’d love to stay for the rest of the celebration, but, I need to steal what I came here for tonight and take my leave.” Puffs of smoke flooded the room, making you cough as your vision blurred. 

A hand snaked around your waist pulled you out from the sea of guests. When the smoke finally cleared and you’d regained your vision, you’re no longer in the ballroom. You were on the rooftop of the building, along with Najaem whose hand still around your waist.

“Najaem!? What…” You were speechless, completely didn’t understand the situation you in. He just smiled as he noticed the confused on your face. 

Without wasting any more time, he cupped your face with his other hand and pressed his lips against yours. You swear your heart stops for a solid second before pounding wildly against your chest. You become paralyzed, lost in the feeling of the phantom thief’s soft lips and confusion. It was wrong, you know it was wrong to kiss the phantom thief in front of you, but at the same time, it felt right. 

However, the moment had to ended by the loud bang of the door. This made the phantom thief let out a low ‘tch’, just like what he thought. 

Mark pulled you away from Najaem, hiding you behind him protectively and ready to attack him. The phantom thief only smirked before activated his hang-glider.

“So long, [Name], until we meet again.” Were his last words before he jumped from the roof, leaving you and Mark alone on the rooftop.

“Are you okay?” Worried, Mark asked you.

You touched your lips where the warm sensation of the phantom thief’s lips still lingering, blushed at the thought that Jae just stole your first kiss. But in the middle of your action, you felt something under your other empty palm. 

You curled your fingers around it and held it up for you to examine. It… was a rose. You pulled it closer to you and that’s when you noticed that there was a piece of paper of some sort taped to the stem of it.  

When we meet again, I will not only steal your kiss. But a whole you. ‘Till we meet again, my Fallen Star.

After the incident with the phantom thief that claimed you as his in the previous heist, Mark seems can’t leave you alone and became more protective than usual. To make it worse, the inspector for Seoul district was actually elated, saying that they could use you as a weapon against the young thief which means your assistance will be needed for the phantom thief’s next heist. Even though you don’t want to be the bait, you still didn’t have any choices—Mark promised to always stay by your side, to make sure nothing happens to you.

That morning, instead of greeting your deskmate with your usual smile, you slumped on your desk with a tired groan. Snicker was his only response as he looked at your state. “Looks like you have a bad day. Care to share some story?”

“It’s actually worse than you thought, Nana.” You turned your head to looked at Jaemin, your deskmate, with a pout as you remembering how your life has just turned into a hell in one night.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder, how can your sweet deskmate kinda reminded you of the Phantom Thief Jae. Despite the similar name—the one you gave him before you changed it to “Nana” per his request, Jaemin who sit beside you is far different from that flirt phantom thief. He is a total introvert (though he looks more like extrovert than you) with zero filters, never without coffee in his hand every morning, constant hugs, cute smiles, and has a soft spot for Park Jisung, the freshman in the first year.

The only same trait that you can see from your friend with the phantom thief is only how he can be a flirt sometimes. But still, there is no way your sweet deskmate is the phantom thief just because of how flirty he can be, especially with you.

“Is it really that bad until Mark hyung can’t stop watching you from far?” Jaemin raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head toward the door. 

Without turning your head to where Jaemin pointed, you already knew what he means. You can only let a tired sigh. 

Mark was watching you from outside the class.

“He has been doing that since the night that phantom thief kis-” You halted the sentence, earning a curious stare from Jaemin. The thought of the phantom thief kissed you made your face turned red. 

“He what?” Jaemin who noticed the sudden shyness gave you a teasing look. 

“Um… nothing. Just forget it.”

Oh God, you almost spill the embarrassing detail. You still could heard Mark’s nagging you about being so defense less in front of a boy. Not just any boy, but the phantom thief who known as flirtatious and womanizer. Therefore, there is no need for anyone else to know about the kiss incident.

“Uh-hu. What did that phantom thief do, huh?”

Great, now he will not stop pestering you about it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whined with red cheeks.

When you and Jaemin out from the class for the lunch break, Mark decided to join you two, saying that he needs to keep you safe though there was no way the phantom thief will be in your school. He kept talking about it with Jaemin all the way to the canteen, which you didn’t mind.

But, that’s where you were wrong.

You never expected to saw a familiar piece of paper that taped to the stem of the familiar rose inside your locker, just right when you about to put your books. A doodle of a phantom thief can be seen at the corner of the paper, clearly telling the world that the flower indeed from the phantom thief.

On the night the door between death and life opened, like Julius Caesar kneeling down in front of Queen Cleopatra, I will come to  you to completely finish what I started.

A little warning for you, don’t be deceived by what you see before you. The shell always different from what stored inside it.

The thought of him might be around you made your heart fluttered. Seems like he never fails to surprise you. You looked around to find any sign of the phantom thief where being, however, there was no sign of him. Seems like the simple little gift from him made your day, well, much better. Though you want to hate him for the kiss, you can’t stop smiling by the small notice. You shouldn’t be affected by whatever the phantom thief tried to do, yet your heart already damaged already beyond repair by him. 

Hate to admit it, but you might have fall a little for him.

“[Name], what’s wrong?” You abruptly close your locker before Mark could see it, surprising two boys behind you. “Did I just see a rose inside your locker?”

“It’s nothing!” You answered rather quickly, pushing Mark away from your locker. 

The detective looked at you suspiciously before decided to shrug it off, thinking that it may be from an admire and you’re just too embarrassed to show it. 

While busy pushing Mark away, you failed to notice the smirk on Jaemin’s face as he followed the two of you from behind.

“Hurry up before we don’t get lunch, Nana!”

“I’m right just behind you two, you know.”

If only you know the truth.

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Under the Moonlight and Fireworks // Tamaki Amajiki

Authors Notes ♡: hi hi, I’m Bunny and welcome to my first collab and first official fic I post to this blog! I promise I’m gonna be active even more now, I’ve written a few things I plan on posting in the next week or so! I’m so glad to be a part of this lovely collab and hopefully you guys will see me in many more! I hope I did my baby Tamaki well in this, I just love him so much~ I hope you enjoy reading this and much as I did writing it ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : none! (Maybe a lil angst if you squint really hard) I tried my best to make a tooth rotting cotton candy fluffy fluff story for Tama!

Word count : 5k give or take!

Paring(s) : Tamaki Amajiki x F! Reader

Mirio and Nejire are dating in this world too ♡

———————————————————————

Summer, the warmest time of the year, from spring flings to summer love, studying to vacations, the time of the year students look forward to, being able to make some of your fondest memories. Even in its short duration, Summer is arguably one of the people’s favorite times of the year.

For Tamaki however, he dreads this summer more than the ones he had before.

You see, He doesn’t hate the heat, or the social interactions (shudder), or getting ready for his exams, his work studies that go through the summer break, or having to get stronger, as he is one of UA’s big three. Oh no, no of these bother him at all. Not even talking about the work studies to 1-A (which is terrifying in itself) can compare to this. This summer has him dreadful for one very big problem, a big issue, specifically one person he can confirm his dread comes from.

[First Name] [Last Name].

One of his childhood friends (alongside Mirio), one of the first people to talk to him, to get to know him, someone who knows him sometimes more than he knows himself. Yes, [First name] [Last Name], the person who makes his heart beat a million miles per second when he hears her laugh or see her blinding smile. The girl with a golden heart...

Is causing him so much dread.

————————————————

It started with a smile, a gentle sign of acknowledgment, warmth, and care without saying a single thing

—————————————————

“Hi, I’m [Name]! What’s your name!? Have you gotten your quirk!? I have mine it’s-“ The small girl rambled on and on, and all Tamaki could do was blink. Between meeting Mirio and this mystery girl [Name], he didn’t know how much more interaction he could take. He looked at the strange duo in front of him, Both coming to talk and befriend the timid boy. With a smile and a grab of a hand by the girl, Tamaki, Mirio and her ran around the playground, they talked and played the rest of his first day, starting the beginning of their friendship.

“Hey, I know! How about we become a group! We can become heroes together and take out the villains!” Mirio said one day during lunch, the small children eating from their bento boxes. “Hey, we should! Then when we get older we can be like All Might!” [Name] said happily, jumping up and down with Mirio while Tamaki watched them, slowly picking in his bento for the octopus-shaped sausages.

“ Whatcha got Tama?” The girl asked, causing young Tamaki to turn crimson “N-nothing something my m-momma made me...” He answered timidly, trying to close the lid before she could see the cut-out creatures in his lunch. To his dismay, she did. “Hey don’t be shy! I like octopuses, your mom really must love you to do something like that!” [Name] said, smiling at her stuttering friend.

“ Hey, do you like octopuses Tama?” She said, widened and bright eyes looking into his slanted darker ones. With a sigh he looked up to her, seeing how close she was, young Tama couldn’t help but to fall backward, shocked at the close proximity of his counterpart. “ Wahhh are you okay Tama??” “Hey, Amajiki are you alright?!” The two asked, looking over the small hill he had rolled down. Without hesitation, they came to his aid, Mirio reaching out to help him up

Whilst [Name], helped brush grass from him. “Butterflies..” He let off, the pair confusingly looked at him. “My favorite animal has to be butterflies..” He said, looking up at [Name] with a small smile that she too, had forming onto her face...

————————————————

Then there was the exchange of gifts, unspoken words, and heavy hearts

————————————————

“Hey, Tama! Mirio!” [Name] yelled down the hall towards her two best friends, seeing them head to the gym for the ending ceremony of the fifth grade. “[NickName]” Mirio yelled back, running towards her as she met him halfway, the two turning to their shy friend. “We were headed to the gym, let's go before they start!” Mirio said energetically, running off to the double doors. “Hey wait up! Come on Tama!” She said, grabbing him by the hand and catching up to their hyper partner.

The ceremony went smoothly, Tamaki and her holding hands until the very end.

“[N-Name]...” Tamaki said softly, grabbing the girls’ hand a bit tighter as they started home, book bags filled with the last day's stuff they either left in their lockers or got from teachers. “Tama?” She questioned, turning to face him. With skin as hot as coal and a shaky breath , Tamaki reached in his bag and gave her a white bunny, a blue dress on it with a vibrant blue butterfly clip on the ear. “T-this is...this is f-for you...” he said so quietly he was shocked when he heard a response “oh Tama..she’s beautiful” With gentle hands she took the bunny from him, playing with the hem of the blue dress. With a gasp and a smile she dug in her bag, giving him a squishy and soft red octopus, an identical blue butterfly pinned to a tentacle. “I guess we had the same idea huh?” She said with darkened cheeks, looking away as he took the octopus from her.

“Y-you..wanted to get me something too..?” He said in disbelief, looking at her with doe like eyes. “Of course! I gave Mirio a Ox because he’s just , well, big and cuddly like one!” She said, giving Tama what he called “the sun in a smile” face, a soft giggle falling from her lips. The two of them stood there for what felt like eternity, then finally, finally [Name] moved, giving tamaki a hug. A stuttering and blushing mess , he froze, not knowing how to handle the display of affection when he heard what she whispered to him “I’ll always be connected to you now Tama “ she said and with a kiss to his ear she ran off before he could say anything, his heart aflame as he watched his best friend dart around the corner.

“Hey Tamaki!” Mirio said, seeing his friend frozen on the concrete. With a snap back to reality, tamaki looked at Mirio, his heart feeling heavenly and heavy all in the same breath. “Y-yeah?” He said looking back at the blonde boy. ‘So bright’ he thought to himself and they walked home.”I heard [Name] was going back to the states” Mirio started, judging by his friends' shocked and sad face , he knew she didn’t tell him. “She didn’t say that when she left huh? Well don’t worry tamaki! We’ll see her again. I just know it! “ Mirio said joyfully with a thumbs up, seeing his sad and shy friend get worse. ‘Maybe that’s what she means by we’ll always be connected..’ Tamaki thought to himself, the octopus she gave him wrapped safely in his arms....

————————————————

Left with a broken promise, fragile in time , stuck in the suspense of hope in the future

————————————————

It didn’t matter as the school year started for middle school, nothing felt the same. Mirio was here but she wasn’t..

He felt like he was missing something, somewhere something was missing.

Her.

He couldn’t stop thinking of the girl who constantly pushed him out of his normal, to push him into bigger and better things, no matter his rebuttal. He missed laughing, eating bento in the grass. No looking out for butterflies together, no long walks home. No warmth.

He had Mirio and he was enough for the two of them

He never noticed it until now..and he wishes he did sooner.

He needed her too, more than he knew , a bigger piece into his life was missing that was more than he thought.

————————————————————

Then the fireworks came, setting off a fuse to a blaze that couldn’t be bothered to try and be contained

————————————————————

Tamaki didn’t like festivals, too many people and things everywhere. But he promised Mirio he’d go, with their new friend, Nejire Hado. He saw her the beginning of their first year, and she was just like her in a very odd and....aloof way. She had the same spark he could say, louder and more outgoing, but she felt right in their friendship. ‘I wanna go home’ tamaki thought to himself, looking for the tuft of blonde hair or periwinkle wandering about. He was hot, tired, and drained. He wanted to see the fireworks, he really did, he just..couldn’t. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone from his yukata when-

A laugh

A pair of laughs

The sound of angels to his ears

In turning around he saw Nejire, bubbly and happy as can be rambling to a girl, who had on one of the most unique yukatas he saw all night. Dragons and waves, tigers and flames, wolves and mountain tops. Dark with golden trim, Artistry and design at it’s finest. From her in geta to the black, red and gold yukata, to the beautiful pieces placed in her hair. Soft makeup that he’d never seen before.

Unique, like her.

He knew what he saw but he didn’t want to believe it

She couldn’t be back

Could she?

And with Nejire?

Then it happens, the fireworks began to blast, colors in the sky as people stop to watch and it’s almost silent, almost, except for the pounding in Tamaki’s heart as he watches his best friend, no , love of his life , smile up to the sky , that same glow as the day he met her.

And that’s when he realizes ‘I’m in love with her’

——————————————————

And everything froze for that moment

——————————————————

He saw her.

Her eyes suddenly went from the sky to his , and they widened , full of questions, happiness and warmth , and also...fear? Sadness? A hint of nervousness? He couldn’t pinpoint it but once their eyes saw each other, nothing mattered, no one mattered, except them in that moment. She looked different...her body was shapely and taller than she was in the fifth grade of course. She was stunning, no , she was beautiful, a goddess amongst the morals as he saw it. He couldn’t help but want to hide , feeling like he couldn’t look , fearing to get burned.....

But he wanted to touch the sun, to have it to himself regardless of the pain, regardless of burn.

He wanted the warmth of her to scorch him, to free him

—————

She saw him.

The way he looked at her made her heart flip, Nejire’s words far gone as she saw her best friend in the distance. Way taller than she last saw him, a stronger physical shape and still his boyish charm had morphed into his handsome qualities. Eyes unsure of where to look, him slowly clamming up at the sight of her. She knew better than to get offended, if anything she was flattered, her childhood friend must feel something like she did. But within that she still saw the same shy third grade Tamaki Amajki in front of her, scared to speak his mind, making her heart smile at the thought. ‘He hasn’t changed a bit’ she said to herself as she smiled sweetly at him, throwing a gentle wave to him as her hyper female friend Nejire pulled her to a stand , then disappearing into the sea of people.....

But the only sea she wanted to drown in was the darkness of his eyes wrapped in the cool of his arms.

She wanted the sea of him to take her into his heart

—————

“Tamaki?” Mirio said, touching his friends shoulders as he watched him jump at the feeling, wide eyes and stuttering out incomplete sentences, he shook him and with the loudest and most confident voice Mirio’s ever seen or hear his best friend say “She’s here, she back Mirio, my bunny’s back”

—————————————————

Which brings us to the current time of why Tamaki hates the summer. His long standing, hidden feeling crush is back in town, and going to one of the biggest hero course based schools in Japan ,UA Academy, with no other than the shy boy himself

—————————————————

“Why didn’t you tell me she was back, Mirio?” Tamaki said , a large sigh tumbling from his lips As he watched the two girls walk arm and arm together to class , Mirio and himself headed to their own designated room. “I didn’t know myself Tamaki, honest! Nejire just said she was showing a new student around , how was I supposed to know it was [Name]! I’m glad she's back though, I missed her but obviously not as much as you do ~” Mirio stated, elbowing his red friend as they sat down for their lessons. ‘Didn’t know..huh’ he looked out the window as everyone poured in. This was gonna be a long day..

———————

Nejire walked arm and arm with [Name], the two of them blabbering to each other as they headed to their class together. “Aw come on and have fun, I need your help y'know don’t laugh at me! ” She whined, shaking the now laughing girl. “I know! Why don’t you talk to him for me?” She said with her iconic excitement, turning to face [Name] as she owlishly blinked back at the girl, hands up in defense. “Uh uh don’t get me in your way of what your crush. I’m not even that helpful in these things!” She said with a giggle as they started to walk once again, passing an open classroom. Stealing a glance through the open door, she swore she saw a certain blonde and Indigo duo she hadn’t talked to in years, not counting the fact she saw them at the recent festival she went to with Nejire. With the sudden stop Nejire turned around, looking back at her with a confused look.

“[Name]? Hello did you hear me?” She asked , waving her hand in front of the girl as she snapped out of it, smiling nervously back at her friend calling her. “Huh? Oh yeah! I-I’m fine just got a little distracted” She said, waving off Nejire's side glance as she headed to their classroom. The periwinkle haired girl watched her friend with a pout, looking into the classroom as she saw her other two best friends. “Miri! Tama! Hey!!” She said , running into the classroom as she hugged them, Tamaki hating her loud appearance while Mirio blushed at the girls’ affection. “ Hey Neji, what’s up?” Mirio asked, color flushing his face, a thing his quiet friend noticed. With a nervous smile Nejire let go of the boys, giving them room as she laughed. “Nothing much, heading to class with [Name], what’re you guys doing? Are you guys ready for the class collab this afternoon?!” She started excitedly

Tamaki immediately looked up, eyes wide as he heard her name. ‘She is here, but why? Is she in the hero’s course too? Sigh...I wanna go home..I can’t face her..not yet’ He thought to himself. “Yep we sure are! I can’t wait to see her, is she really here? Where?!” Mirio jumped up , grabbing the shorter girl’s shoulders. “W-well we’re in class together! Class 2-A!” She said , a wild spread of color onto her cheeks settling in as she looked at the energetic blonde. “Tamaki let's go say hi! It’s been awhile since we saw her, I bet she’s happy to see us as much as we are to see her! Oh yeah, I can’t wait to ask her about the states, I wonder what she’s been up to!” Mirio said as he ran out of the room , headed to the neighboring one.

“Let’s go chicken heart!” Nejire turned to Tamaki, seeing the boy even gloomier than usual. “ Oh come on you knew her before I did! It’ll be fun, we can even be the big four!” She giggled as she tried to drag the elf ear boy along, a sigh falling from his lips. ‘Definitely a long day..’ he thought. “I’ll wait here Hado..I’ll talk to her later..” He said, pulling from the confused girl. “Aw come on, shell be happy to see you! Let’s go yeah?” Nejire begged to no avail, Tamaki already facing the wall in defeat. With a heavy sigh and pout she went after Mirio, leaving him to stew in his thoughts.

——————————

“So...you want to ask Hado out?” Tamaki started, looking to his usually ecstatic friend, a nervous look washing over his face. “Y-yeah..I dunno Tamaki, she’s something special. I can’t help the way my heart feels whenever she appears, her smile makes me warm, she's like a female me! Ah what can I say, I just feel..whole y'know? In a relationship way not saying that you don’t make me feel happy and whole too! Hey Tamaki! Stop looking like that!” Mirio said, finally turning to the boy after his confession, seeing his friend now looking intimidatingly at his lunch, chopsticks pulling apart the fried octopus in his meal.

“I dunno Mirio...are you sure you want to do this..? What if she..rejects you…?” The pessimistic boy said, looking over to his friend in concern. “Well...we’d just have to go back to being friends! No harm in that right?” Mirio said, happy as can be with a smile to Tamakis’ dismay. ‘How can someone be so happy all the time..’ he thought, hearing his friend explain how he’d confess to Nejire, but all he could think about is how to do the same for [Name]. ‘Oh bunny..I hope I could one day too..tell you how much you mean to me..’ Tamaki thought, looking up as the sun shined brightly.

————————

“Okay so I wanna confess to Miri” Nejire blurted out, halting a stretching [Name]. “You want to do WHAT?” [Name] said , a little louder than she hoped, seeing angry stares at her as she apologized, looking back at her friend. “ You really want to go to the next step huh?” She said soon sighing ”Do you...think you’re ready Neji? There's good AND bad that could come from this, I don’t want you getting your heart hurt if it doesn’t work out…” She said, looking back to the periwinkle haired girl , determination plastered onto her face. “ I have to [Name] , if I don’t I won’t be able to know if I really like him , so I can finally deal with this silly crush once and for all!” Nejire said, turning to look back at her lost friend. “Trust me , I’ll be okay..I need to do this. Next year is our last year together, and if we have a blossoming love into the ages I refuse to miss the opportunity!” She said, enthusiasm laced throughout her speech.

“I’ll text him now! Tell him there’s something I have to tell him” Nejire started, opening her phone as she typed vigorously, sending the text with a ’ping’ “Well alright..but I’m telling you now I’m no wingman!” [Name] said , following behind Nejire, who soon was squealing through the halls, starting to run towards the stairs. “He said yes [Name] , he said yes! He told me to come up to the rooftop! C'mon we have to hurry before class starts!” Nejire said, taking up the stairs. “Wait! Ugh love birds..” [Name] grumbled, speeding up to catch up to her.

———————————

Twilight, when the sun and the moon meet in the middle to change, from night to day , day to night. I’m this cause however, love is blossoming in the mist of its glory

——————————————

Year 3, the final stretch until UAs’ finest become heroes in the world, men and women joining the social aspect of the world. But Tamaki knew it was a mock to that part in highschool, truly it being a ticking time bomb for him to confess his own feelings for his childhood best friend. The duo were currently headed for the workshop to get the updated gear they put in from the support class, both them excited to see the updates and new gear they ordered in. “Hey Tama, what did you think your hero gear looks like now? Ah I can’t wait! I hope now I don’t have to worry about tears and damaging me and my whole outfit!” [Name] said happily, rambling about her gear. Tamaki looked fondly at his energetic friend, his eyes sparkling as he took in her appearance.

The UA uniform hugging her in all the right places, her smile bringing a warmth to his heart. Her skin looked soft to the touch and her hair pinned and out of the way of her face, displaying her happy disposition. She soon looked up and met eyes with the shy boy as he soon turned red, stuttering out apologizes as he hid his face from the now giggling girl, her own face warming at noticing him staring at her. “Aw don’t be shy Tama! What’s up? Something wrong?” [Name] said, tilting her head to him as she leaned closer, which caused Tamaki to lean back from her and stutter even more which amused the girl even more. “ N-nothing s-stop teasing me bunny..” he whispered to the girl, turning even darker as he faced the wall , feeling his heart starting to speed, fluttering against his ribcage as the butterflies in his stomach rose up to meet his throat, the two mingling until they made a knot in the middle.

He tensed when [Name] wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her face under his arm to look at him, a soft smile splayed on her face. “Tamaki. Talk to me, what's got you so flustered hm?” Her voice calmed him but also made him nervous as he finally turned around to her , with darkened cheeks and a shaking body , he grabbed her hands, holding them in his own as they both looked in eachothers eyes, each slowly moving towards the other when..

“Hey you two! Are you guys getting your gear too!?” They heard a loud happy voice yelling from down the hall, knowing it was a certain happy go lucky couple. Tamaki quickly released [Name] , both of them flustered as they didn’t look up to their friends, an awkward silence falling between them as they walked into the workshop.

————————————————

“Tamaki you really should tell her! I bet she’ll say yes, and if it's anything like what we saw last week it seems she’s really into you too!” Mirio said to his timid friend, the indigo haired boy in thought as he watched the girl he was practically in love with laughing and joking with his other best friend and Mirios’ girlfriend Nejire.”You remember how scared I was to tell Neji I liked her and it turned out she was coming to tell me the same thing! The way you and [Name] stared at each other until we were done confessing had meaning in it y'know?” Mirio looked over at Tamaki, the shy boy now glancing towards him.

With a deep breath he continued “I know when she left you were heartbroken Tamaki….” With that statement , Tamaki perked up to look at his blonde friend seeing him look at him with soft eyes “You’ve always been in love with her Tama, everyone could see it…” With a sigh , Tamaki started, opening and shutting his mouth but with no avail , nothing came out. Mirio smiled and continued his thoughts “ We all hoped you’d tell her soon, to at least see where it could go….All of us really, you two maka a great duo as heroes, and we all see the chemistry, inside and out of the ring. And you know Neji, once she gets her mind set on something she doesn’t give up until it happens.” He said , glancing to his periwinkle haired lover talking to [Name] , the other girls face flushing with color as Nejire continued to talk on and on , obviously giving their other friend the same talk he was doing up here.

“I’ll...talk to her” Tamaki finally spoke up, shocking his optimistic friend. “What? Really??” Mirio said , grabbing Tamaki's arm and shaking the now dejected boy. “That’s great Tama, I’ll let Nejire know! Y'know we were planning to go out and get some pre summer fun done before we get out of school and start our pro hero lives! Why don’t you tell her there?” Mirio said , giving Tamaki a thumbs up. “Sure..what’s worse than confessing to a crush but doing it in public…” Tamaki responded, walking towards the door of the roof with his excited friend beside him,texting his girlfriend the plans as they headed down to meet them. ‘ I hope this works...Bunny I hope you’ll feel the same too..’ He thought to himself, trying to be the most confident he could muster inside of him.

————————————————

Tamaki waited outside with Mirio outside of the girls dorm, the energetic blonde constantly trying to giving the pessimistic indigo advice of what to say and how to confess, but all he could think about was all the ‘what ifs’ and how this could go wrong. Just before he started to try and get out of something he thought could bring him more regret the main door opened, showing a happy Nejire and a shy [Name] hidden behind her.

“Sorry boys it took so long! [Name] and me had to get ready , wanted to look our best for you two!” Nejire said with a wink, walking over to kiss Mirio on the cheek.” Well you two look beautiful! Don’t they Tamaki?” He asked , seeing as his friend was disgraced by the girl in front him, mouth slightly agape. “H-huh! Oh y-yeah you both look n-nice..” He rambled out, turning from his crush in front of him, looking everywhere except to make eye contact with the girl in front of him “Aw Tama stop being like that! [Name] got all dressed up and pretty for you and you won’t even look at her!” Nejire said, smacking the timid boy in the back with her purse.

With a pout from Mirio telling her to give their shy friend time, the couple started walking, the two shy friends behind them following close behind.”Nejire“I-it’s okay! He’s just nervous is all!” She defended him as well, walking beside Tamaki and throwing him a small smile. “We better keep up, or Nejire will have your head at this rate!” She laughed as he let off a deep sigh, all of them heading to what Nejire called their “romantic getaway”. As they went up the hill, [Name] gasped happily, looking down at an early festival going on. “Guys come look! It looks like they’re having some type of festival going on!” She exclaimed and Nejire sat beside her, they both giggled with joy as they watched the people beneath them run and dance around happily as the festival continued. Soon Tamaki and Mirio joined them , sitting beside each girl as they watched on, the joy from the day settling into them all.

As the sun started to set, Nejire gently laid her head on Mirios shoulder, the blonde smiling down at his girlfriend as they started snuggling up to each other in the sunset, drifting asleep on one another.

“Ah looks like the two of them are starting to sleep” [Name] said softly, seeing as their lovebird friends were drifting off as the sun hung low in the horizon, everyone in the festival gathering as they collected fireworks to set off.

“Y-yeah..” Tamaki agreed softly, looking at the girl beside him, his heart skipping a beat as she was already glancing over to him, a smile grazing her lips.

“I’m glad we’re here, back together Tama...I..missed you a lot when I went back home..it wasn’t the same” [Name] said with a whisper. “I..didn’t want to leave you..it’s why I gave you that octopus, I guess that was sorta silly..trying to convey how I felt with a stuffed animal “ She let out a light sigh, shaking her head as she watched the sun slip away. Tamaki reached out for her hand causing the girl to snap her head towards him, seeing his cheeks flush.

“[N-name]...Bunny..I’ve always c-cared for you and y-you moving c-changed nothing..if anything I-it made me realize how m-much you mean to me..I think…no..I know I’m in love with you, and I-I’m hoping...t-that you..c-could maybe..” And before he had the chance to finish they heard the iconic pop of fireworks, the two of them turning to watch the array of lights, their hands intertwined. As the moon slipped up from being hidden under the horizon, Tamaki watched [Name] , a smile settling on his lips as the moon and fireworks making the girl seem lambent to him, inside and out.

“Bunny..” He called out to her and with a soft hum she turned to him , eyebrow raised. ‘It’s now or never..’ Tamaki thought to himself, standing up as he held out his hand to her. [Name] smiled and stood with him, holding his hand back as she tilted her head, eyes wandering between his.”B-be mine..?” He asked, almost so quiet he didn’t expect her to let out a held breath and with a gentle smile answered “I’ve always been yours”. With a shaky exhale of a breath he pulled her closer, closing the distance between them with a passionate kiss, savoring the first of many kisses together, under the moon and fireworks.

——————————————————

Bonus ♡ !! :

Later that night , the gang of Tamaki and [Name] headed back with Mirio and Nejire, all four of them sitting on the floor of Mirios’ dorm as they ate snacks until their dinner arrived. “ Okay so! What should we watch tonight?” Nejire asked, stuffing her face soon after with marshmallows. “Please Hado..don’t chew with your mouth open..” Tamaki whispered, laying his head on [Name]’s Lap as she played with his hair, a held snort coming out. “We have games too! Don’t forget!” She said in response , laughing at her periwinkle haired friend as she started to finish her bowl of gummy white marshmallows, smiling when she was done. “Okay okay, now! Games or a movie?” “Games.” Mirio interrupted , a smirk growing on his face. “Let’s make a bet , whoever loses has to help and serve the winners” With a huff, Nejire stood to her taller male counterpart, cheeks puffed “That’s why we’ll win! You’re on!” Tamaki let out a sigh of disappointment and [Name] couldn’t help but smile, kissing the cheeks of her new boyfriend. “ It'll be okay Tama, I’m here remember?” She said softly as he sat up from her lap , giving her a proper kiss “You are and I wouldn’t change this for anything. I love you bunny” Tamaki said , kissing her once more on the lips, their friend arguing background noise as she kissed him back with a sweet “I love you too Tama”

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 2 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 2

“I’m honestly surprised your parents allowed you on this trip, Danny,” his friend Sam mentioned as they and their other friend, Tucker, packed their bags onto the bus.

The now seventeen year old Danny shrugged as he focused on trying to make sure his bag wouldn’t be squished in the luggage compartment of the bus during the trip. He brought a foldable telescope with him in case he had a chance to stargaze, and he didn’t want it to get broken.

His school, Casper High, had some sort of deal with one of the local National Parks. The school was allowed to camp at the park at a reduced rate as long as the students helped the Forest Rangers with some minor tasks. Both parties considered it a win-win situation as the Park Service received some extra hands, and the school was able to pride itself on the survival and conservational experiences its students received. Technically, the trip was voluntary for seniors, but the teachers indirectly pressured the students to participate.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised they convinced Tucker to go,” Danny eventually replied after he was satisfied with the location of his bag.

“You’re telling me!” Tucker whined as he waited for his two friends while he fiddled with his PDA. “My mother actually threatened to stop making her meatloaf for me if I didn’t go! They said, “It would be good for me”. Can you believe that?”

“I think a little bit of hiking do you some good.” Sam poked him in the stomach for emphasis.

As Tucker shouted in protest, Danny and Sam exchanged a glance. Tucker did not like the outdoors, and he was very vocal about it. His world primary consisted of technology, and while it was amazing what he could do with his handheld and twenty minutes, his physical prowess was lacking.

“But seriously, Danny,” Tucker injected after he finally fended off Sam, “how did you convince your parents to let you come?”

Danny shrugged as he headed towards the door of the bus. Shouts from the teachers made it clear they would be boarding soon. “It seems like the school board managed to somehow convince them. All I know is that they had a meeting with them to raise concerns and to tell them I wasn’t going to go, but they came back stating it was fine. It must have been one heck of a persuasive argument.”

“That’s because my mother was involved.” The boys glanced over to see Sam angrily kick a rock out of the way. Her parents were often a taboo topic. “I thought I told you she was on the school board. I don’t know the full details of it, but I know she was preparing counterarguments to objections.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents are so gung ho about this trip. You’d think they’d consider camping beneath them.”

“It’s because of the prestige. They can brag that their daughter and their daughter’s school has ties to a government agency.”

While Danny raised an eyebrow, he admitted it seemed petty enough of a reason. Sam’s parents were very wealthy and liked to show off their wealth, much to their daughter’s dismay. They often argued with her regarding her appearance, music tastes, friends, after school activities, and other issues as they believed their daughter’s choices reflected poorly on them. However, they were usually fine with their daughter’s activism regarding conservation and animal rights as long as she didn’t go too far with it, such as the time she tried to stage a break out at the local zoo.

Their conversation ended as the boarding began. The three somehow managed to get the back of the bus, which allowed them to continue to talk without interruption. Most of the other students tended to avoid their group. They didn’t know why until one of the band members, Mikey, once asked Tucker how he put up with being so close to Danny. Confused, Tucker asked him to elaborate.

According to Mikey, a lot of the other students felt unnerved by Danny. As polite and quiet as he tended to be, there was something odd about him that no one was directly able to pinpoint. Mikey said he thought it could have been his eyes, citing how at times it almost seemed like Danny saw the world in a slightly different way than the rest of them. Tucker just laughed it off and explained that Danny had a traumatic event as a child so he often seemed unusually reserved. Mikey seemed to accept that answer, and afterwards, at least some of the students involved with the band were more open towards Danny.

The Fentons moved to Amity Park two years after Danny’s disappearance, so the majority of the student body was unaware of the event. If he was honest, Danny would never have told Sam and Tucker what happened, but his parents’ eccentricities forced the issue.

When his parent’s found out about Sam’s activism the first time she and Tucker visited their house, they made her swear she would not take their son into the woods with her. When he was finally allowed to take them to his room after Sam promised she wouldn’t, he hesitantly explained why they were so intense. His friends were very understanding, though they were just as puzzled about the entire thing as he was. Tucker even offered to hack into the old case file if Danny ever decided to look into it.

Sam did mention that it did help explain why they sometimes caught him staring off into space. She figured he was probably traumatized by something he couldn’t quite remember. Danny mentioned his sister once told him something similar, but he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened.

What he never admitted to his friends was that he knew why he sometimes seemed distant. Ever since his disappearance, he sometimes saw figures out of the corner of his periphery. Usually, he thought it was another person, but when he tried to check, whatever it was had disappeared. More recently, however, the figures seemed to let him glimpse them for a second or two. He could never make out anything other than the vague shape as a person. Since no one else seemed to notice them, he figured it was some weird sort of paranoia due to a repressed memory.

….

About a half hour after they left, Danny received a voicemail from his parents. He had forgotten he had put it on silent, but there was no way he could call them back while he was on the bus since Mr. Lancer was the chaperone for his bus, and that man was a stickler for the rules. Instead, he made a mental note to call them back as soon as he had permission as he clicked the play button.

His mother’s voice sounded absolutely frantic. “Daniel, you call me as soon as you get this! I don’t know what came over us, but we never should have let you go without some sort of protection. I should have never have let you go. If the teachers won’t let you call us, jest remember to never be the last or first in line, and never, under any circumstances, go anywhere alone. And, this is important Danny, if anyone you don’t know offers you food, don’t take it.” His dad could faintly be heard in the background talking about some sort of weaponry he made.

“And here I thought only my mom could sound like that. What was that about?” Sam asked. Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t going to let it drop until he had an answer.

“I think my parents finally realized I was going into the woods,” he replied as he put his phone away.

“I thought you said they were fine with you going,” Tucker chimed in while he rummaged through his back for a snack.

Danny didn’t immediately answer. He glanced away for a moment before finally he decided to open up about something which had been bugging him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but my parents almost seemed like they were in a daze after that school meeting. They were so adamant I was not going to be allowed to go on that trip, and then they just changed their minds and stopped voicing their concerns. It was so weird that I actually called Jazz.”

It was true. He had called his sister at collage because of how out of character it was. While Jazz understood his concern, she reassured him one of the teachers or other parents managed to ease their concerns, and/or they realized some of their worries were silly and unfounded. He tried to tell her there was something more to it as she couldn’t physically see how off they were, but she just told him he was being paranoid and to enjoy himself.

Tucker whistled. “It must have been weird for you to do that.” Both Sam and Tucker knew full well how Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton tended to overanalyze almost everything. As a result, Danny often tried to avoid asking her questions regarding why a person would act in a certain way. The resulting explanation was often too lengthy to be interesting.

“As weird as that is, do you really think anyone in Amity would do something like drug or hypnotize your parents?” Sam argued.

“I… I don’t really know. Look, I never told you guys this,” Danny sighed as he steeled himself, “but, there has been a second incident prior to us moving. Our old house had a wooded area behind it. It wasn’t dense or anything, and you could see in it for like a half mile… but, according to my parents, and Jazz confirmed it, I went missing again for several hours in those woods. I don’t remember saying this, but they said I mentioned something about my playmate from the forest in Arkansas payed me a visit. There’s been an unspoken worry that this guy is following us for some reason.”

Neither of his friends said anything for a while until Sam spoke up. “That’s really messed up, but do you really think that’s the case? How would this person be able to find you? Do you even know what he or she looks like?”

He shook his head. “You know my parents are big names in fringe science. It’s possible he found us that way. I know that it’s really unlikely… It… It’s just… it was too weird, you know? With how my parents go on and on about other dimensions and being spirited away, them just suddenly changing their minds went against everything they believe.”

“Don’t worry, Danny. You’re with us and a bunch of other students. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And if something does happen, Sam can chase off the bad guy with those boots of hers. Ow!” Tucker glared at Sam as he rubbed his shin. “That was a compliment.”

She just snickered which caused the two to start bickering. The familiarity of it helped ease some of Danny’s worries. He knew he was just being paranoid, and that it was very unlikely anyone did something to his parents. It was just that he couldn’t shake off his uneasy feeling.

….

Their camp ground was in the Cuyahoga Valley region which was on the outskirts of the Allegheny plateau. The hills in the area were rolling due to the plateau and ancient glacial activity, but they were nowhere near as large as the ones found closer to the mountains in the next state over. Like many forests in the plateau, it was surprisingly old and dense.

Danny was unsettled by it. The hardwood trees blocked out a large percentage of the sun which cast permanent shadows on the area. Not only was it unlikely he would be able to stargaze, he kept thinking he saw something peek out from behind the trees. Chalking it up to paranoia, he decided to focus on the interior of the bus until they reached their destination. He didn’t need to freak out this early in the trip.

Due to the amount of students, the school split them into groups of about thirty and split them around the park. His group was sent to a series of cabins near one of the ranger stations. There were five or six assigned to each cabin. Thankfully for Danny, Tucker was also assigned to the same cabin.

After Mr. Lancer told them some general rules, they were told they had an hour to settle in before they would met up for lunch. The unpacking was fairly uneventful, though Danny was dismayed to learn some of the football players would be in his cabin. Most of them tended to leave him alone, but the one, Dash, liked to bully him. It was strange since he was the only person aside from Sam and Tucker who would come anywhere near him. Thankfully, other than a warning to keep his weirdness to himself, the football players decided to ignore him and Tucker.

He unpacked fairly quickly, so he decided he had enough time to try to contact his parents. Stepping outside, he tried to make a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end, but the signal must have been poor as the call was extremely choppy. After several minutes of trying to figure out what she was saying, he told her he would ask the Rangers if they had a land line he’d be able to use before he ended the call. He frowned as he checked the bars on his phone. There signal was strong enough that the call shouldn’t have been that choppy, but it was a cheaper phone since he had a bad habit of breaking them, so that could have been the reason.

They ate lunch at a mess hall in the camp complex. It was a fairly modest meal, but the beef and gravy was surprisingly good. Danny mused it was probably because his parents often experimented with cooking which often created strange results. He was also surprised that there was a vegetarian option available for Sam, but the school must have called ahead to let them know.

When they were finishing up, Mr. Lancer announced that one of the Rangers had an announcement. Danny glanced over to see a stern man, possibly in his late thirties, move towards the front of the room. He was fit and weathered, but every once in a while, there was a haunted look in his eyes.

The ranger, Rusty, gave the group a rundown of the general rules. He then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “This is unprecedented, but we are going to need your help for a search for a missing person.” Murmurs of excitement ran through the students. “This is a serious matter, and I request you pay attention. We have our search and rescue people and volunteers out right now looking for a twenty-two year old male. He is Caucasian and was last seen in a red jacket and blue jeans. He goes by Aiden.”

“Because you are not properly trained,” Rusty continued, “I only ask that you walk along the nearby trails for a couple hours in groups of two or more. Each group will be given a walkie-talkie. If you see or hear anything strange, call it into us. Don’t go off the trails. We don’t need more people getting lost today.” He fell silent and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before adding, “If you hear what sounds like screaming, particularly a woman screaming, call it in immediately. Large cats sometimes make that kind of sounds, and we definitely have Bobcats around. Luckily, they tend to avoid people, but we do like to know when we have signs of them.”

Twenty minutes later, the teens separated into their groups. Each group was provided a map, compass, and walkie-talkie. Rusty took them to a large map posted outside the Ranger station and explained a little about the area. The trails he wanted them to take circled the surrounding area and were well marked. Before he let them go, he again warned them to report anything off, but did try to reassure them by letting them know other rangers would be regularly sweeping the area.

“Well, isn’t this a reassuring start to our trip,” Tucker sarcastically mentioned as he tried to figure out the map.

“It can’t be helped,” Sam told him as she ripped the map out of his hands and corrected it before handing it back to him. “They must be desperate if they’re asking students to help.”

“Hey, I’m not used to replying on handheld maps.”

“You could try bringing it up on GPS,” Danny mentioned as they headed towards the one trail.

“That’s a great idea!” Tucker fiddled with his PDA for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Are you okay, dude? You sound a little off.”

“Oh, I guess this would hit a little too close to home,” Sam mentioned as she examined his expression.

Danny sighed as he glanced away from her. “Kind of. Even though I don’t remember it, I was in this exact same situation before. I hope they find the guy, at least for his family’s sake.”

The trio fell silent as they began their walk on one of the easy trails. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though Tucker complained starting about halfway through the hike. Sam tried to distract them by identifying some of the local flora, but it only worked for so long.

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost dinner time. Danny was glad to be back around the group. Although he never mentioned anything to his friends, he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. The trees seemed oppressive at times, and he was honestly surprised he didn’t have a panic attack while they were on the trail.

After dinner, he asked Rusty if there was a phone he would be able to use. Rusty told him that he would have to wait until the morning because they needed the line for the search. Danny understood and thanked the man.

Before he had a chance to head back to his cabin, Rusty called out to him, “While you’re here, make sure you never go off on your own.”

“I know. I mean, my parents drilled that into me for years,” Danny admitted with a shrug.

Rusty examined him closely before stepping closer and whispering, “You’ve witnessed something strange in the past. I can tell by the look in your eyes and how tense you are. In any heavily wooded area, the more open you are to the unusual, the more likely it might show up again.” He walked off without another word. Unnerved, Danny returned to his cabin and waited for his friend.

Tucker still wanted to complain about the amount of walking they did when he returned to the room, which prompted a discussion regarding how in the world Sam was able to enjoy things like that. Danny was about to bring up what the ranger told him when the football players burst into the room. Normally, Danny would just ignore them, but this time, he was intrigued by their excited whispers.

“Hey dweebs,” Dash addressed them, much to Danny and Tucker’s surprise, “did you hear what happened?” An evil grin appeared on his face when they told him they didn’t. “Kwan overheard the rangers talking earlier. You know that guy they were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “Did they find him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t alive.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of chapter notes :

The Cuyahoga (Ky-ah-HOE-ga) Valley is a real place. I chose it for some very specific reasons. 1) The forests in that area are extremely large 2) I’m fairly familiar with the landscape and weather as I grew up in another part of the Allegheny plateau 3) The parks in that area are a bit unusual as you have a mix of privately owned and government owned areas which I’m using to my design as there’s more leeway with what they can and can’t build in those areas 4) some old towns have been “swallowed” by the national park including one famous “helltown”

The Allegheny (Al-ah-gain-ie) plateau is one part of the Appalachian Mountains, which are said to be the oldest mountains in the world. You don’t really have the high peaks or rock terrain associated with other ranges since they’re so worn, but there are a lot of hills, valleys, creeks, and streams. There are also a lot of coal mines since it’s a coal rich area. What’s also very strange about the plateau is that you can be in a town or suburbs, but within 15-20 minutes, you can be on the outskirts of a deep forest. There are also some swamps and marshy areas within the plateau as well.

Also, a lot of the names for natural landmarks in the Allegheny plateau originate from the tribes who originally settled there. There are even some burial mounds in the Cuyahoga area.

[vesta-knows-besta]

shadow and bone thoughts

okay, so I just finished the series and as someone who’s only read soc but not the original series, I wanted to give my thoughts :)

- Jesper’s quick eyebrow movements and general flourishes really added to his showboating nature, and imo really enforced his lightning quick reflexes

- I liked Kaz and Inej’s tension - so many words unspoken. it was clear the actors were comfortable with each other, which made the crow scenes amazing to watch. I’m really glad they kept Kaz’s gloves and had him use his cane perfectly

- I’m glad Inej remain devoted to her beliefs throughout the whole thing 

- nina and matthias were great together - I could really sense how wary matthias was of Nina, just by his body language. I wasn’t expecting them to be in the show so I was really happy that their story was covered, even though the ending was tragic

- I’m really glad that Alina remained slightly rebellious and defiant, even while she was still loyal to the Darkling. It harkened back to her fearless nature in the orphanage where she protected Mal from the bullies and cheated her way out of the test - her rebellious spirit remained, even in small moments like her fight with Zoya

- Darkling was creepy, though I wasn’t a fan of what I think were black contact lenses? They looked a little odd at times, but I think his overall appearance and performance was great (okay, apparently they were not contact lenses, so I apologize! did not mean to offend)

- the costumes! I loved how much the characters’ rank, personality, and situation was conveyed throughout the costumes - it may seem obvious, but I feel like costumes are often overlooked in shows/plays as a form of characterization. Things like Matthias wearing animal pelts, the Grisha wearing keftas with embroidered patterns declaring their rank, Kaz’s cane being practical/functional with the crow’s head adding to his foreboding and mysterious nature as well as his alliances

- I will say, I wasn’t a huge fan of the British accents, mostly considering I was expecting at least the Ravkans to speak with Russian accent. I think they worked in Ketterdam more than Ravka, yet at the same time, with a city that’s a major trading hub for the whole world, I would’ve expected a wider array of accents and dialects. I think that would’ve enhanced the world

- Pekka Rollins speaking with a scottish accent worked great though I thought

- milo was cute and adorable. absolutely perfect

- I think the storylines meshed really well together. I’m not familiar with the original shadow and bone plot, but I think that the individual and combined interactions between the crows and Alina with the tie in to Nina later allowed us to explore a lot of different branching storylines, while also having a sense of cohesion 

- i really liked the flashbacks for Mal and Alina’s scenes. it really reinforced their strong bond

- the stag antlers being a sort of chain/collar for Alina was terrifying and really emphasized how much she’d become the Darkling’s prisoner, as it looked like the antlers were literally choking her

- i really expected Genya to be pronounced with a hard G so I was thrown for a loop there haha

- the Fold as a weapon, environmental obstacle, and tool for the West Ravkan’s political goals was genius. I know this is definitely in the books, but I was surprised at how crucial it was to so so many different characters and plot points. It felt alive and vital to the world, rather than just tacked on for dramatic effect

- the fight scenes were engaging. I especially liked how clever Jesper was to shoot the heartrender multiple times in the same place to wear down his armor. Little things like that really made me feel like I was in the same world as soc, as I was constantly impressed with the creative solutions and fight scenes in that book

- the Darkling was so creepy and I am so glad Alina turned against him

[gaytorade-official]

Based on a story by @iishipallthethings. Future oc. Basically what would happen if Korra , Asami, Kuvira, and Lin were somehow able to have kids. In my defense it’s a really good story.

Netsu Sato

The second youngest

19

Lesbian

Shortest

Fire bender

She can’t Lightning bend but she can lava bend

It’s the same concept as Lightning bending

She bends the heat

She can’t make lava she can only bend it if it’s already there

She has serious anger problems

Remember when Korra destroyed the airbending gates?

Or when Sharkboy tore apart the bars of the cage?

Yeah that basically Netsu when she’s angry

She’s not a bad person she just gets annoyed easily

She only tries to fight the assholes who deserve an asswhoping

That being said there’s a lot of assholes deserve an asswhoping

“Say that to my face you limp noodle!”

A family member usually has to stop her from beating the crap out of someone

That someone is usually Siku

She’s a pro bender and a volunteer firefighter

She doesn’t like to talk about how she got her scars

Loves to feel the earth under her feet so goes without shoes as often as possible

Gnam Sato

The youngest

18 years old

Asexual and bisexual

Airbender

She can fly

Yes she can fly like Zaheer

Yes she was able to let go of her earthly tethers and enter the void

Let’s be honest it’s mostly because she somewhat of an airhead

The only one who can calm Netsu down with little to no problem

Basically a babey

The unspoken favorite among everyone

Doesn’t like to fight if she doesn’t have to

Tries to talk things out first

Has no problem fighting for her loved ones though

“I’m not a fighter but don’t push me”

Ever the optimist

Doesn’t have a set career in mind so usually ends up taking odd jobs

Nothing illegal

Somewhat of a wanderer

Siku Beifong

Third youngest but like to refer to themselves as the fourth oldest just to fuck with Netsu

Basically one of the middle child

20

Genderqueer

Uses any pronouns honestly

Gynesexual

Waterbender

On rare occasions they have been able to bend the water out of the air

Silent type

But in a cocky narcissistic kind of way

Like ‘my presence speaks for me’ kind of way

Is most definitely a sadist

Likes to mess with Netsu mostly

Will go out of their way to mess with Netsu some times

Will end up in suitations they didn’t mean to end up in

They’re not always bad suitations

That how she became a professional actor and singer

“This isn’t were I thought I’d be in my life but who am I to complain?”

They’re also a part time personal trainer

It’s perfect because they get paid to hurt people

Also owns a gym

Yán Beifong

Third oldest

Basically the other middle child

21

The tallest

Transmasculine

Uses she/her he/him and they/them pronouns

Gynesexual

Demiromantic

Graysexual

Earthbender

Can’t use seismic sense though

Never got the hang of it

They can metal bend though

Oh and Lava bend

Strong, mysterious, silent type

It’s because they’re shy when it comes to talking

And that’s because they have a slight stutter

Yán and their family learned sign language so that they feel more comfortable communicating

They usually hangs around Siku the most because they require the least amount of talking

Is usually the one to break up the fights in the family.

Grabs them by the collar and dangles them above the ground

Has done this to their parents

Yán doesn’t play around when it comes to her family

No nonsense kind of attitude towards it

They run an animal daycare

“Animals don’t expect you to talk”

Takes any animal as long as they are trained to a certain degree and doesn’t try to eat the other animals

He also does some animal training on the side

Tamashī Beifong-Sato

The second oldest

22

Non-binary woman

Pansexual and demisexual

Is technically a nonbender

They’re very strong spiritually

She has a strong connection with spirts and the spirt world so most spirits like her

She can come and go from the spirt world as she pleases

She can spiritually project herself like Jinora

The first time she did this it was completely on accident

She caught her parents doing something no child should see their parents doing

“That night never happened”

She is so in sync with spirts that she can use her body movements to guide spirts to do what she needs

Kinda like the dragon dance

So yeah she’s basically a spirt bender

Can she bend spirt energy like Korra?

No idea

Are we really gonna test that theory?

Absolutely not

Yes she has purple eyes

No that doesn’t necessarily mean anything

No we are not aiming a spirt cannon at that poor child

Usually tries to avoid problems

Usually ends up dragged in them anyway

She spend most of her time helping spirts and humans come to an agreement or an understanding

Wèilai Sato-Beifong

The oldest

24

Lesbian

Is a nonbender

Don’t worry she has a gun

She’s not afraid to use it

“Parry this you fucking casual”

It’s a handgun

Yes she created the gun

Don’t worry she doesn’t sell them and doesn’t intend to

She has the only gun that exists and probably the only gun to ever exist for a very long time

She’s a fucking genius

Has helped create so many things

If her parents were literally anyone else she would of been an evil mastermind and have taken over the world by now

Also a master martial artist

She causes problems

On purpose

Plans them out so nothing leads back to her

Usually harmless pranks

Harmless to her anyway

She is set to takeover Future Industries after Asami steps down

Until she spends a good amount of her time taking down corrupt people in power and taking down underground rings

It takes time

But a gun can gets you places

No idea how she was born

I idea how any of them were born

Probably some spirt shit

This idea had been stuck in my head for awhile so I decided to actually create it. I love thinking about what the kids of a specific ship in a story would look and act like but this is the first time I’ve actually drawn it out.

While you’re here you might as well check out the story.

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Ladyhawke: The Story

When you boil it down, the story of Ladyhawke isn’t quite a tale as old as time, but it’s pretty darn close.

Ladyhawke tells the story of star-crossed lovers, suffering under a curse that stands between them.  It is the tale of a couple who struggle to remain hopeful, to find a way to break the curse, to end their suffering. It’s a common theme, used everywhere from Romeo and Juliet to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Stories of star-crossed lovers are extremely prevalent, which unfortunately means that it’s rather easy to turn their accounts into stale, cliché-filled, predictable stories.

Ladyhawke, on the other hand, managed to avoid this with one, very simple change: They told the story from the outside.

Enter our ‘main’ character, Phillipe Gaston.  (Spoilers below!)

The story of Ladyhawke begins with two events going on at the same time, in the same place: A service in the cathedral above, led by the corrupt Bishop of Aquila, (John Wood) and an escape through the drain system below, performed by petty thief Phillipe ‘The Mouse’ Gaston. (Matthew Broderick)

His escape from his impending execution causes quite a stir among the guards of Aquila.  As it turns out, the prison of Aquila is impregnable, totally inescapable and thoroughly secure to the point where absolutely nobody, barring Phillipe, has ever escaped before.  In order to ensure that this reputation remains untarnished, the Bishop sends the guards, led by Captain Marquet, after him in an attempt to return him for execution.

“Great storms announce themselves with a simple breeze, Captain, and a single rebel spark can ignite the fires of rebellion.”

Phillipe gets away okay at first, traveling outside the city and stealing a change of clothes, a dagger, and some money.  His elation and confidence get the better of him however, and he foolishly announces to an entire inn that he is the lone escaped prisoner from Aquila.  Unfortunately, among the patrons of the inn are Captain Marquet and his posse.

Philippe, for all of his useful abilities, isn’t quite up to fighting off an entire squad of armed men, and though he does his best to evade them, (even slicing Marquet in the cheek with his newly acquired dagger) it isn’t quite enough to ward them off.  The soldiers restrain him, and prepare to kill him.  Right before the sword falls, however, who should arrive but a Knight in Shining Armor?

This strange and mysterious newcomer, armed with both sword and crossbow, turns out to be Etienne Navarre (Rutger Hauer), the former captain of the guard of Aquila. He rescues Phillipe, fending off the guard quite handily, and rides off on his black horse, accompanied by a faithful hawk, and a rather unwilling Phillipe.

That evening, Navarre and Phillipe stop off for a rest in a barn owned by a suspicious farming couple.  As darkness falls, Phillipe is charged with taking care of Navarre’s massive horse, Goliath, and gathering firewood.  Anxious to get further away from Aquila, Phillipe decides to tell Navarre that he is leaving, just before he is attacked again, this time by the aforementioned suspicious farmer. This time, however, his rescuer takes the form not of the great, black knight, but of a great, black wolf.

Terrified out of his mind, Phillipe flees back to the barn to discover that Navarre is nowhere to be found.  In desperation, the young thief grabs the former captain’s crossbow, and prepares to try to kill the wolf, but is stopped by a figure even more mysterious than the missing captain.

A strange, beautiful woman in a black cloak (Michelle Pfieffer) prevents him from shooting the ferocious animal, and to Phillipe’s stunned amazement, calmly leaves the safety of the barn, going out to meet the wild creature.  The wolf comes to her, quietly and tamely, and the pair walk off into the forest.  Phillipe is left in shock, attempting to convince himself that he is dreaming.

Already, we know quite a bit about our main characters.  Philippe is totally alone in the world, and is very concerned with the safety of his own skin.  He’s not exactly a coward, but he is certainly a sly person, using his wits to get what he needs rather than brute force.  He’s an Action Survivor, not a fighter, and he knows he’s not much help in combat.  Indeed, he seems to alternate between being terribly proud of his own cleverness, and knowingly humble about his own shortcomings, depending on his familiarity with what’s going on.

Another interesting quirk of his is that he is almost disconnected with the story, spending a good deal of the narrative talking to God, making plenty of observations about the goings on in the plot.  The audience hears his external monologue that comes across as wavering somewhere between flippant and earnest.  He’s a shrewd chatterbox, accustomed to his place in his own world, and very uneasy about being drug into a grander tale that he does not belong to.  He is very much an outsider, stumbling along with the story in a confused, frantic state, gathering information at the same rate as the audience is, unwillingly pulled into a conflict that, at this time, he wants no part of.  It’s almost a direct inversion of the traditional Hero’s Journey.  In a way, it seems quite odd that this ‘Mouse’ is our main character, when really, shouldn’t it be the fierce and mysterious Black Knight?

Navarre serves as excellent contrast.  He is quiet, reserved, and carries with him a very stern presence, an underlying dangerousness that comes out in battle. He patiently tolerates Phillipe’s behavior for a reason that, as of this point, both Phillipe and the audience aren’t aware of yet.  He is gentle with his horse and the equally mysterious hawk, and yet a capable and ferocious warrior in battle.  As the ex-captain of the guard of Aquila, he also carries with him an unknown history that connects him with events prior to Phillipe’s escape.  In a more traditional fantasy, it would be he that the audience is following.  Navarre is the one with an unspoken quest and sense of purpose, and it is Navarre and his actions that drive the story.  

And finally, there is the strange woman that has appeared out of nowhere, and disappears into nowhere again in the morning.  She has a strange connection to the wolf, and is a lady of few words.  At the moment, that is the extent of our knowledge about her, but we are instantly aware that she is vital to this story.

The next morning, Phillipe tells Navarre about the events of last night.  Navarre, for his part, takes special interest in Phillipe’s description of the enigmatic woman, asking if she spoke, what she’d said, and her name.  The Mouse, with very few answers for Navarre’s questions, is left perhaps more confused than when he’d started.

Meanwhile, Captain Marquet returns to Aquila with bad news: Not only is Philippe still on the loose, but the ex-Captain Navarre has returned. The Bishop reacts rather strangely; he is less interested in their escaped prisoner and the trouble-making warrior than what travels with them: the hawk.  He orders Marquet to ensure that the hawk is unharmed, and sends him back out to go search for the two fugitives.

Back in the woods, Navarre finally explains his plans: His quest is to kill the Bishop, and he wants Phillipe, the only escaped prisoner from the medieval version of Alcatraz, to help him.  By using him to get in, Navarre will enter the church and strike the Bishop down with the sword of his ancestors, adding his own jewel to the set that adorn the hilt of the weapon.

Phillipe is less than thrilled with this prospect, having just escaped from there, and has this to say:

“There are strange forces at work in your life. Magical ones that surround you. I don’t understand them, but they frighten me. You have given me my life. The truth is I can never repay you. I have no honor, and never will have. I don’t think you would kill me for being what I am, but better that than to return to Aquila.”

However, thanks to some…..convincing by Navarre, he is left with no choice but to stay.

Very subtle.

That night, with Navarre nowhere to be found, the woman appears again, stumbling across Phillipe, who has been tied to a tree to prevent his running off again.  Making good use of his silver tongue, he convinces the woman to free him.  Once released, the Mouse scurries off into the woods.

Of course, that doesn’t exactly go as planned, either.  He is once again apprehended by Marquet and the guards, who attempt to use him to find Navarre.  The next morning, Marquet leads an ambush against the knight, and in the scuffle, both Navarre and his beloved hawk are shot with a crossbow.  Despite his wound, Navarre defeats the guard and saves Phillipe again, and immediately rushes to the side of his bird.

Navarre gives the hawk to Phillipe, instructing him to ride as fast as he can to the abandoned ruins of a castle, now inhabited by a priest-turned-monk named Imperius (Leo McKern).  Phillipe does so, and arrives shortly before sunset.  The monk, a disgraced, but sincere man of God, brings them in, and immediately sets to caring for the hawk, locking Phillipe out and speaking soothingly to the animal.

You can all guess what happens when night falls.

Phillipe picks the lock and lets himself in, and realizes what the audience has likely figured out by now: The hawk and the woman are the same person, animal by day, human by night.

After tending to her wound, Imperius explains.

The woman is named Isabeau, and again, as one might have guessed, she and Navarre are deeply in love with each other, and have been for quite some time.  Years previously, she was pursued and lusted after by the Bishop, and by rejecting his advances, (and returning Navarre’s) enraged him to the point of bitter insanity. Though the pair tried to keep their love a secret, the Bishop found out, and after consulting with the supernatural, comes up with a demonic curse: as mentioned before, Isabeau is a hawk by day, human by night, and Navarre is human by day, and the great black wolf by night.  Forever together, eternally apart.

The monk’s part in all of this?  He is the one who mistakenly told the Bishop of their love, indirectly causing the couple these two years of pain.  Now, desperate for forgiveness and atoning for his role in the story, he has good news: there is a way to break the curse.

Here lies perhaps the greatest piece of genius in this story.  In some contemporary fantasy films of the time, there are neat little devices thrown in to offset the epic-ness, the strangeness, or the fairy-tale-ness of whichever story is being told.  In Labyrinth, the items in Sarah’s room follow her into the fantasy world she travels to, grounding it in real-life elements.  In The Princess Bride, Fred Savage interrupts Grandpa Peter Falk to insert his own comments about his disgust or outrage with the story going on.  In Ladyhawke, however, the addressing of its own ‘fairy-tale’ vibe is done from within the narrative, namely through Phillipe.

Although Phillipe serves as the audience’s window into this world, the fact is, the audience is likely to pick up on things much faster than the Mouse does, very simply because we know we are watching a story play out, and Phillipe doesn’t.  As far as he knows, he is just going through life, stumbling upon what he slowly realizes is a story.  He is an observer, unconnected to these people, figuring it out as he goes along.  As early on as the first encounter with the wolf, he begs God to not involve him in this, recognizing magic and mystery at play.  Despite this vague glimmer of genre-savviness, the identities of the animals don’t truly dawn on him until they are staring him in the face.  It takes the evidence of the arrow in Isabeau’s shoulder, matching the wound of the hawk, to convince him of the truth: that he has stumbled into a fairytale.

Thus, he needs things explained to him, and he, similarly to Fred Savage, comments aloud (repeatedly) the strangeness of the situation and his place in it.  Phillipe serves as the ‘real world’ tie in this fantasy story, albeit a more grounded one than the examples above.  He is the exact amount of ‘realism’ necessary for this story, which is frankly, not a lot. He can afford to be both fascinated and skeptical of the story, both moved and objective about Navarre and Isabeau’s plight because the story itself also straddles that line between the utterly fantastic and the grounded, down to earth realism of medieval Europe. It’s a fascinating balance that comes to a head here, halfway through the story, heralded by the first glimmer of hope for the star-crossed lovers.

At dawn, there is another attack by the Bishop’s guards, fended off by the unstable architecture of the crumbling ruins and a well-timed transformation by Isabeau.  This scene, while giving us the privilege of ‘seeing’ Isabeau turn into a hawk, also begins to escalate things on the enemy’s side.  Defeated once again, the Bishop sends out another force: a hunter with a specialty for wolves.

The Bishop’s orders are clear, and give us considerable insight into his motivation:

“A beautiful woman with alabaster skin and the eyes of a dove. She travels by night, only by night. Her sun is the moon. And her name is… Isabeau. Find her and you find the wolf. The wolf I want. The wolf who… loves her.”

What a nice guy, right?

When Navarre arrives in the morning, Imperius and Phillipe go to meet him with their news.  The Bishop’s evil curse can be broken if Navarre and Isabeau stand before him, confront him as man and woman, both human, which can only be done on ‘a day without a night, and a night without a day’.  Navarre, long hardened and discouraged, dismisses this hope as the ramblings of a drunkard, and takes Phillipe and the hawk to continue his plan of slaying the Bishop.

Ironically, with the tables turned, Phillipe finds himself attempting to persuade Navarre of this one chance, secretly telling Imperius to follow them.  Navarre, as stubborn as he is heartbroken, refuses to listen, and orders Phillipe not to tell Isabeau of this possibility.

One night, while Isabeau and Phillipe are talking, they meet the wolf-hunter that the Bishop has sent after them, who has ridden in with fresh wolf-pelts. The hunter realizes that this is the woman that the Bishop is after, but before he can do anything, Phillipe has his first moment of real, honest-to-goodness bravery.  Drawing Navarre’s sword, he threatens:

“If you lay one hand on her you will find it on the ground next to your head. Now ride on!”  

Desperate in an effort to find and save Navarre, Isabeau dashes into the woods, with Phillipe behind her.  Isabeau’s connection with Navarre, even in wolf form, allows her to prevent him from stepping into a wolf trap, sending the hunter himself into one instead. The danger is not over, however, and during a further scuffle, Navarre falls through the thin ice over a body of water.

Phillipe, selflessly throwing himself into danger for the first time, goes in after him, acquiring a series of deep scratches on his chest from the wolf in the process.  Assisted by Isabeau and Imperius, he deposits the wolf near their campsite, where the ‘Ladyhawke’ waits for him to awaken at dawn.

(This leads to my questions about the pair’s sleep schedules, but I suppose that’s not really important.)

At daybreak, Navarre and Isabeau lay eyes upon each other, and almost touch in their short moment before Isabeau’s transformation.  Too soon, the moment is gone, and the Ladyhawke flies off, leaving Navarre crushed.

Navarre, unable to find his family sword, lashes out at Phillipe when the Mouse tells him that he lost it during the night.  The knight’s anger quickly dissipates, however, when Phillipe’s shirt falls open and the former captain sees the scars left from his animal form’s panic.  Staggered and grateful, Navarre embraces Phillipe, and finally agrees to try to break the curse.  That night, Imperius and Isabeau smuggle Wolf!Navarre into the city while Phillipe goes back the way he came: through the sewers.

The next morning, the sun rises as usual, and Navarre, unable to see any sign of this ‘day without a night’ stuff, reverts back to his original plan: when Phillipe opens the cathedral gates, Navarre will ride in and slaughter the Bishop.  He orders Imperius to kill Isabeau if he fails, which shall be signified by the cathedral bells chiming as usual.

The plan goes off without a hitch.  Phillipe gets the doors open and Navarre rides in, full of righteous fury, now blocked from his revenge only by Captain Marquet.  During their brutal duel, Navarre sees something that makes him stop in his tracks: a solar eclipse.

Realizing that the curse can be broken, he attempts to rush back to tell Imperius to spare Isabeau, but it is too late.  The bells chime, and Marquet closes in.  Despairing and grieving, Navarre fights more brutally than ever, and after being thrown his sword (carried by Phillipe, who, turns out, did not lose it), ends Marquet’s life and turns on the Bishop.

He is halted once again, this time, by something good.

Isabeau enters the cathedral, in full light of day, not a feather to be seen.  Together, she and Navarre stand before the Bishop, breaking the curse once and for all. Enraged, the Bishop moves in, intending to stab Isabeau in the back, declaring: “If I can’t have her, no one shall!”

Now it’s his turn to be stopped in his tracks, pretty permanently, by Navarre’s family sword embedded in his torso, thoroughly killing him.

What a shame.

Navarre and Isabeau embrace joyfully, reunited at last.  The couple thanks both Imperius and Phillipe, and as the monk and the thief bow out, the happy couple share a kiss, looking forward to a life untarnished by curses.

It’s a satisfying end to a thoroughly satisfying movie.  A bit expected, but come on, who doesn’t like a happy ending?

The only thing that could come across as a little odd about this ending is simply who it’s about.

In a way, it makes perfect sense.  Of course we want the curse broken, of course we want the couple reunited and for the scummy Bishop to get what’s coming to him.  But what we also might want would be some resolution for our supporting protagonist here.  

What about Phillipe?

As with The Wizard of Oz, it’s easy to think that maybe our main character hasn’t changed that much from beginning to end.  Navarre, on the other hand, has gone from tragic avenger to hopeful hero, together with his love at last.  Isabeau is a person grown stronger through adversity, remaining loyal and relieved to be released from the curse.  Even Imperius is a new man, redeemed from his accidental betrayal by his assistance.

But Phillipe?  Where does his end come in?

The answer lies a little before the main climax.

The scene on the ice, where Isabeau tries to slide across to rescue Navarre in wolf form, is, in my opinion, the resolution to the Mouse’s character arc, where he goes from Action Survivor to hero.  By diving in after Navarre, putting himself in peril to save his friend, he sheds the remains of his selfish, thieving qualities and gains the honor that, earlier in the film, he said he was without.

That is where the change is completed.  That is where Phillipe becomes a hero.  And that is what allows him to put Navarre and Isabeau first.  Beginning the story alone in the world, Phillipe gains friendship and respect from notably Navarre, giving the young thief a new place in a larger world.

True, the climax of the film belongs to Navarre and Isabeau, as it should.  They are the cursed couple.  They are the main focus, even if they aren’t the protagonists.  They are the ones who have earned this ending, and deserve it.

In that sense, the end fits perfectly.  Everyone grows, everyone changes, and everyone gets their happy ending. Now that’s what I call a great fairy-tale.

In the articles ahead, we’ll be taking a look at some more of the aspects of Ladyhawke, so please, if you enjoyed this one, stick around for next time!  If you’d like, don’t forget that my ask box is always open.  Thank you guys so much for reading, and I’ll see you all in the next article.

[pervasivescariness]

[ A Gathering of Threads ]

Five : Hope

( @ivaan-ffxiv​ )

That mysterious helm finally lifted, his face finally revealed and all Bee could do for the moment was stare at him quietly. She had at last dropped her hands from his shoulders, freeing the way for him to raise his arms and remove the helm. As he did, she worked on freeing her own hands from her gloves, keeping her eyes on him as he unclasped the helm. That determined stare held at first as she caught the familiar chestnut locks, began to falter as her eye trailed down to trace his jawline, noting the thinner scars there. Slowly that resolution began to cave, to weaken as her eyes moved up the jagged scar to the deep wound which marred the center of his face. So much of that boy she had known was gone. The roundness of his youthful face in her memory missing from this lean, sharp featured man before her. The happiness he wore so easily absent from that scarred scowl which adorned such a tired face. There was not much in this life that could steal the wind from her sails as quickly as when he opened his eyes however.

It was not horror upon her face as she met his sharpened gaze, but a pained and lost look. It was the same one she wore upon looking out over the ruins of her village and the coastline beyond. That dread, knowing that it was all forever changed, that whatever happened from here on would be different...harder...scarier. Bee's lips parted slightly, as though she meant to speak, yet nothing came out and she soon pressed them together once more. The ocean raged in her heart; loss, despair, anger, fright, confusion...and a distant acceptance. What happened to you? She wanted to ask. But wasn't that obvious? Life had happened to him, and it had not been kind. That suffering he wore upon that gaunt face of his was almost too much to bear. Bee took in a slow, shaky breath, another tear slipping from her eye as Ivaan waited, closely watching her take in his features. He was relieved to see that she did not recoil, or gasp. She just seemed... sad. In a way, that was just as bad as fear or disgust. This sudden reunion was hard for both of them, and the last thing he wanted was for his looks to make it even more so. Bee continued searching his face for a trace of that boy she used to know, raising her hands slowly towards him as she did, as though touching him might dispel whatever glamour this was, bringing back the face she recognized from her youth. Were it anybody else, Ivaan would have pulled away at the approach of their hand to his scarred face. Instead, he held still, allowing her to reach out to touch him if she wished. "When the meteors began to fall, the pieces of Dalamud, I was caught in the open. As I ran to find cover, something big, and burning struck the earth directly in my path.” Bee's hands reached out towards him slowly, halting momentarily as her fingers approached his jawline. She hesitated, continuing to look over the features of his face, as though she were searching for something in them, something beyond the scars and the dark circles and that tired, sharp look in his eye.

“I woke up days later with my head wrapped in gauze... This is what remained even after being in the care of powerful conjurers.” He continued his tale, Bee trying her best not to imagine him out there, alone and wounded in the dirt as her fingertips hovered just over his skin. “The others..." His jaw set, gaze faltering for a moment.

As his gaze faltered, so too did her hands and it seemed as though she might drop them to his shoulders instead. Yet there was something in his eyes, something so far away and painful that she couldn't abandon her course. Lightly at first, she touched his face, her middle two fingers brushing along the scarring on his jaw with her right hand. 

"They all perished that night." Part of him as well.

"I'm so sorry." A mere breath as she pressed her left hand to his face to fully cup his cheek. 

She could tell the loss weighed heavily upon him and knew not what to say. Cupping the other side of his face in her hands, she held him gently there between her palms, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at him, her heart breaking all over again. Her dearest friend had suffered so much in the years they spent apart. She was back on the shore of her village then, staring at the ruins and wondering what was next in those moments, the hot tears slipping from her eyes to once more roll freely down her cheeks. And yet...

"You're alive, Ivaan." Her voice was cracked, raspy from her previous tears, choked by the fresh ones. "The pieces of you...they might be gone, changed...scarred...but you're still here. It's still you...and you're alive."

Ivaan could only watch as his beloved friend broke into new tears. This was all supposed to be a good thing, wasn't it? They found each other,  against all odds, alive and well. Yet here they were, acting almost like they had found that the other had died. His gaze remained fixed, unflinching while he brought an armored hand to rest upon hers, a gentle squeeze the only support he found himself able to offer. He tilted his head, that his cheek might rest against her touch, listening to her words. 

"I am..." He smiled... or he tried to, at least. It was a forced, tragic attempt. The two simple words were tainted with a sadness, a guilt... shame. Shame of something not yet spoken.

She matched his smile with a pained one of her own, as though she were struggling to find the joy in the situation, overwhelmed as she was by the whole of it. The tears continued as Bee closed her eyes, unsure of what to say. There was so much she wished to ask him, so much she wanted to know.  In her dreams, this meeting was so much easier. A shared moment of excitement at the recognition, a tearful embrace and then the sharing of magnificent stories; adventures that had led one another to the same place. Yet the reality of it was overwhelming. It was hard to process, even harder to accept that someone so dear to her heart had suffered so greatly. There was more to it, something more under his careful words, his reserved actions...but for now this was enough. She could pick him apart later, at the core of it, Bee was relieved. This was a second chance and she would accept it, no matter what it looked like.

With a sigh she turned her palm from his face to take the armored hand which rest against her own,  giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away, slipping her arms around his neck as she leaned in to pull him into another embrace. Bee held him to her, whispering, "Full glad am I that you are, Ivaan."

The smile was far from the animated, cheeky ones he remembered so fondly. He did not know what he could say, what he could do to make this easier, to make this moment the one it should be. Yet for the frantic thought he put into it, he came up with nothing. At least he was given some opportunity to do something when she pulled him in. Ivaan fully committed to the embrace, burying his head into her neck, feeling the curls smother him. They were soft against his scarred skin, and her smell... For a moment, he was back in the Twelveswood with her, sharing their first hug in greeting after many long moons apart, a whole summer of fun and adventures before them. Ivaan found himself unable to pull away. He had missed this, missed her so much... 

"You will not lose me again, Bee. I swear it." he murmured, his words accompanied by a tightening of his arms about her.

She in turn drew him closer, holding onto him as tightly as she could, fully ignoring the press of the metal against her arms. He felt so different, no longer that soft young boy who so readily greeted her, the warmth of his hug now the cold metal of the armor which encased him. In spite of this, just being able to hug him again was far more than she had ever thought would happen. No matter how often her daydreams led her to thoughts of some fairy tale meeting, there was always that cold reality of his death which lingered at the edges. She would gladly suffer the strange metal shell about her friend, this odd distance of the years and unspoken tragedy between them...because she knew that she could fix things from here. Just like the village, this could be repaired too. This thought eased the pain in her heart a bit, coupled with the firmness of his hug, how he leaned into the crook of her neck. That optimism slowly began to creep back into her heart, lifting her spirits as she smiled into his hair, strangely soft for as choppy and wild as it initially appeared. 

"I am holding you to that, Ivaan Arkwright." Bee replied firmly. "You owe me nearly a decade's worth of adventure, after all." 

She gave a soft laugh, the quiet joy of their reunion fluttering back into her tone as she began to disengage from the hug slightly, pulling away only enough to fully speak without risking eating any of his hair. When his face emerged from her own tangle of curls, that pained smile had regained a hint of its former warmth. He pulled away, just enough to meet her face to face, through his hands still rested upon her hips beneath her cloak. "You will have it." 

Satisfied with the resoluteness of his answer, Bee was at last able to give him a more genuine smile. For the briefest of moments everything seemed to click back into place, as though the years and the distance had meant nothing. After a momentary pause, she took a breath and said, "Let's start over. What exactly are you doing here?" << Four || Six >>

[wilhelmjfink]

All Efforts in Vain - Pt. 1

Hindsight is always 20/20.

Daryl x Reader

He’d tried so god damned hard — harder than anybody else there had — harder than her own mother had tried. She’d damn near given up after a week it seemed, losing hope and just moping around, feeling sorry for herself. It infuriated him to no end, because he didn’t understand why. At first, it seemed lazy, weak, pathetic of her to just stop trying. But after that lifeless little girl shuffled out of that barn, cloudy and hollow eyes still squinting at the bright sunlight, the mixture of adult teeth and baby teeth she’d had yet to lose and hide for the tooth fairy still inside her snapping jaws, he’d realized something: she was right to have lost hope so early on.

And it was also obvious to him then that it didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t care about losing her daughter. The opposite, actually; he’d managed to grab onto her before she sprinted right into the arms of the last few walkers dwindling out of the barn in a fit of shock and heartbroken devastation. He felt that pain as he held her and she flailed and hit him in unwarranted anger towards his actions. She knew he’d tried harder than anybody else.

Except that one girl.

He’d hardly learned her name — she’d told him, twice maybe, but he couldn’t seem to remember. Which was odd for him, usually pretty good with faces, recognizing little features or quirks in people that he’d learn to associate with a name. But all he could seem to remember was vivid images of her smiling at him the first time they’d crossed paths, and how her bright eyes glistened in the early morning sun when she looked at him. He could remember her laugh, too, and even when he heard in from the farthest pasture over, he could clearly see that smile with it and it made him feel... something.

He didn’t know what, so he’d shoved it down for another day, maybe when he’d have more time to worry about stupid and unnecessary shit like that — which he didn’t imagine would be anytime soon.

But when the gunshot rung out and Carol had broken free from his grasp to sprint towards little Sophia’s crumpled body, a new sound had hit Daryl with a similar abstract emotion he’d buried away long ago, and it had even somehow managed to distract him from the horrific sight. Even though he’d never heard it before he knew exactly what it was and the second it hit his ears he felt cold, angry — furious... but he didn’t know why, and that only made it worse. 

The moment his group arrived at her farm she’d shown him nothing but kindness in an odd, aloof sort of fashion -- the kind of behavior that he appreciated from people: distance, respect, an unspoken but mutual agreement of personal space. She’d trailed behind him more than once while he searched for Sophia, keeping silent unless she had something important to offer up, which is what he preferred from a companion anyway. And it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, either. That should’ve been his first hint, but he was so fixated on finding that little girl, he’d disregarded any odd feelings she’d given him and instead focused on the task at hand.

The time the horse threw him and he got impaled with his own arrow, she’d been the first one he’d seen upon his return to the farm. She’d ran to him, eyes wide and full of fear, hands moving to his face so quickly he’d flinched in reaction. Kindly, though, she’d retracted, as to not startle him, like he was some stray animal she wanted to capture and domesticate. She’d had only good intentions, of course, terrified at the sight of him then, and rightfully so; moments after, Andrea had grazed his head with that bullet mistaking him for a walker. The force had thrown him backwards and he landed hard on his back, senses knocked awry for a few painfully long moments of delirium and he still couldn’t acknowledge that he’d heard her scream his name in fear. And once the fog cleared and he’d woken up later inside the farm house, he’d been struck with one thought: was she okay?

She had the same look of shock and horror watching little Sophia meander outside of the old barn amongst the carnage of the other fallen walkers. The heavy Bowie knife had fallen from her grasp with a dull thud into the soft ground beneath her feet, her hands releasing it against her will as they flew to her mouth, open in shock, trying to stifle the pathetic sob she choked out. And somehow, it was the saddest sound Daryl had ever heard.

He didn’t know what to do then. He was overwhelmed with so many different emotions all swirling around him like a tornado and he couldn’t just pick one — which made it considerably hard to choose an outlet in which to release all of that pent up energy that was only growing more and more unruly each second. Should he go to Carol? No — she was already upset  with him after he’d refused to allow her to run to Sophia as she emerged slowly from the old barn, confirming everybody’s worse fears. And she was still sobbing behind him where he was standing; and he glanced over his shoulder at her to find the devastation and utter heartbreak she emitted just seemed to make the situation far too much for him to handle. And he got angry. And he left.

Well, he’d tried.

With Merle gone his subconscious began to speak up without the fear of just being shut right back down. The life of constant belittling and disregarding had taken its toll on Daryl and only without the older Dixon around to speak for him and make all of his decisions, he found more often than not he’d heard that little voice inside his head telling him to do the right thing for once in his pathetic life.  And it just so happened that, in that case, the right thing was not leaving behind Carol, and not leaving behind the girl. Why? He had no fucking clue.

So when he’d found her standing outside of his tent the following evening with a bowl of soup and some fresh baked bread in her hands, he’d been just as confused.

“I didn’t see you at dinner,” she’d said quietly, setting the bowl beside him on the makeshift bench he’d crafted himself. He hardly tore his eyes away from the campfire he’d built — he flames were mesmerizing, and he was worried that, should he look to her, she might entrance him as well and he wouldn’t be able to look away from her, either. “So, I brought you some... in case you were hungry.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to. He didn’t ask for dinner to be brought to him — and why did she care whether or not he ate?

“It’s Daryl, right?”

His eyes snapped up at her and he swore he could see her flinch at the intensity behind his glare. It wasn’t intentional and he instantly felt bad, the way her eyes held the heat and the reflections of the flames that flickered shadows on and off of her face, she looked so pure, so innocent, so... beautiful.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, teeth gnawing on his thumbnail apprehensively. His heart skipped a beat when she smiled sweetly at him, though it lasted but a second before disappearing. What did she want with him?

“You did more for that little girl than her own mother did,” she said softly. He held his breath, waiting for her to continue — and if she didn’t, what was he supposed to say to that? Yeah, he’d thought the same damn thing — but it was still all in vain. “Maybe children don’t stand a chance alone in this world, but... she had far better chances than anyone else would with you behind her.” She paused as he took in her words. “And maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you now, but it means something to me.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone and even more confused than before.

Why did it feel like, had it been anyone else that would have approached him offering food and solace such as that, it would’ve simply pissed him off? With her, it did the opposite, but everything inside of him was still telling him to get angry. To get defensive and shut her out, right then and there, refusing to let her sneak inside his head anymore than she already had. It was already too much for him — too uncomfortable to accept that behavior from somebody who shouldn’t want to give him the time of day. He wasn’t worth it. And she was an anomaly. She was mysterious and her aura was so warm and welcoming to him and he felt strangely comfortable with her nearby and that was all very new to him. New and unsettling but at the same time, she was intriguing and inviting.

He’d woken up that morning with a different attitude than he’d gone to sleep with the night before — gone to sleep, of course, being said lightly, as he’d spent the long night staring up at the roof of his tent listening to the crickets chirping until the pattering of summer rain replaced them — because he’d had far too many things going through his mind. He usually did, but this night in particular was different, as he’d never been tormented by memories of smiles and bright eyes and adoration. And though he wouldn’t say the mood he’d begun the day in was good, it was certainly better than it had been the night before.

That was, until, he’d made the mistake of joining the group for breakfast inside the Greene‘s kitchen, where everything had evidently already began to unfurl before he’d even opened the door all the way. Panic and working and speculation... and when he noticed she was the only one absent, he’d forgotten about trying to reinforce those safe and secure walls inside of his heart and head because they’d instantly crumbled at the notion that she may very well be in trouble. And this time, his efforts would not be in vain.

part 1! stay tuned for part 2 :-) 

haven’t thought of an idea for a cover yet either.... hm.....

[ducktracy]

72. pettin’ in the park (1934)

release date: january 27th, 1934

series: merrie melodies

director: bernard brown

starring: n/a

sound designer bernard brown’s first directorial credit, and bob clampett’s first formal animation credit! we observe romance in a park, as well as a swimming race between a plethora of birds.

two lovebirds (literally) are perched in a tree, flirting with each other. one bird attempts to snuggle up to his sweetheart, who pushes him away. to truly judge her love, the bird plucks a flower from the tree and plucks the petals, a silent rendition of “she loves me” occurring as he grins, grimaces, grins, grimaces, grins, grimaces... grins! confident that she loves him, the bird embraces her once more to no protest. i love the acting without any dialogue, the unspoken message of “she loves me, she loves me not” clear as day. elsewhere, a woodpecker drills a heart into a tree for its significant other and they kiss.

a police officer and a maid (what an odd couple!) are perched on a bench. the officer caves in and pecks her on the cheek, and there’s some great animation of the officer holding onto the bench, pushing himself up and down in unadulterated glee as the maid flushes. i’m probably saying this just because his name’s in the credits, but that definitely feels like some bob clampett animation to me, validated with of an upcoming scene with the two.

birds perched on a branch launch into “pettin’ in the park”, sung also by a baby in a stroller in a fitting bass voice. a fountain also gargles along to the song.

i’m enthralled with how out of place this is. maybe on purpose? i hope? a penguin is chasing a butterfly through the park, snapping its beak and diving after it. the butterfly lands on the maid’s butt, which the penguin nips.

here is where my clampett hypothesis is justified. the maid thinks the cop was coming onto her and she smacks him—clampett loved his innuendos! i don’t even know if this was him for certain, but it’s certainly on par with his sense of humor. the maid stalks off with her baby, leaving the cop in the dust. even the baby blows a raspberry at the officer, albeit into its milk bottle.

a man in a car spots the maid and tips his hat to her. she eagerly crawls into his car (not a good idea!) and they hold hands while swaying along to the music. there’s a silhouette shot of them pecking a kiss.

we’ve some more animal lovebirds that make noise along to the song. some owls, some kissing birds, even an ostrich and a bird.

the police officer is still pissed about being left in the dust, and marches over to the car where the maid is located, his penguin buddy waddling behind for support. the cop’s walk cycle is full of pep and character: a stereotypical flouncy, motivated march—much like a porky pig double bounce walk in clampett’s cartoons—very fun to watch. the cop pokes his head in the window of the car, and we see a silhouette of the other man in the car walloping him in the face before driving off.

thus begins the second segment of the cartoon: the race segment. various species of birds are crowded around a sign that advertises “ANNUAL WATER CARNIVAL, DIVING AND SWIMMING CONTEST, OPEN TO ALL CONTESTANTS”. i suppose “all contestants” means “all types of birds”—not a human in sight! a parrot is perched in a tree as the host as we view our lineup.

various birds cheer on a swan, a family of ducks, what seems to be a crane, and an ostrich as they jump off the high dive, the crane landing in a trashcan and the ostrich landing in mud. boy, we switched atmospheres and settings awfully fast, didn’t we? it’s kinda jarring. i wish we could have seen more of the cop, the charmer, and the maid. sounds like a murder mystery, doesn’t it? i would’ve liked to see the cop chase after the car, maybe some more park related gags... i encourage unconventionality, and this second half is unconventional, but it feels rather random and out of place.

this is a great perspective. the parrot prepares to launch the starting cannon, while the penguin from the beginning dives off the top of the flagpole. he lands on top of the parrot, causing him to pull the string of the cannon and opening the ceremonies.

some of these old cartoons come off as a string of gags instead of a spot gag cartoon—not one is truly spotlighted on for too long. this is one of those stringed together sequences. a pelican blows water from its beak, an ostrich running underwater, a rooster and its rowing team of chickens, a duck riding a bicycle underwater, the pelican from before using its beak as a motorboat, and so on. the animation isn’t bad at all, and the gags are mildly amusing within themselves, but nothing more. it feels very on par with the bosko cartoons of 1931 and early 1932.

it seems the parrot and penguin are working together as a team, using a bathtub as a boat and an air pump as a motor. the penguin pumps while the parrot keeps watch.

they pass the chicken rowing team, who ride straight into a log, chances of winning squandered. elsewhere, the duck on the bicycle is having trouble pedaling up and down those underwater hills and valleys. it sinks into an unknown abyss, rising to the surface in a bubble.

the penguin pumping the pump, causing fish to spew everywhere is a nice touch, especially with the pelican eating up all of the fish. a clock is also expelled into the air and into the pelican’s mouth, the clock bouncing around in the pouch. the animation isn’t as stretchy or exaggerated as it could be, but again, this is the depression and budgets are strict. an ostrich trips, getting stuck in a pair of drawers underwater. it comes out of nowhere, but not necessarily in a funny way. it feels too deliberate and not deliberate at all. the animation IS nice though as the drawers rise to the surface, ostrich struggling to kick its feet.

our parrot penguin duo reach a mud spot, where the bathtub gets stuck. there are three goose behind them who get sprayed with mud as they pump: along with other everyday objects, such as a grid house, a girdle, and a boot.

enraged, the ducks chase after the penguin. they run through a revolving gate and get their feathers cut—as well as their necks tied. iris out as the penguin smiles with triumph.

i feel this cartoon had a lot of potential it didn’t live up to. i don’t think bernard brown directed many cartoons at all, if only a handful. i wonder why he directed this in the first place, seeing as he was a sound director? not that he couldn’t do both jobs, but that’s something you don’t see everyday. the first half was much more entertaining than the second half, which felt like a transparent string of tired gags. they were amusing, sure, but nothing laugh out loud worthy. instead of one cartoon, this feels like two jammed together in one to make up for lost time or ideas. it’s probably safe to skip it this time. i’ll still place the link though!

link!