#Stern Face-1 TS

[hirocimacruiser]

STERN FACE-1 Touring Sports (TS) wheels.

The Stern face-1 TS is a European wheel with a nimble ride reminiscent of the west wind, speed emitted from the wheels, strength from its form, and a mature attention to detail. For those who love fashion and sports.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby… pt.2!

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. smut. mentions of alcohol. unprotected sex. praise. fem receiving. gentle sex. CONSENTED. angst with happy ending?

a/n: I just ate buldak ramen and my asshole is so clenched rn. oh god wtf ts is not for the weak

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You’re my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

Days have passed since that kiss you shared with Leon. And it’s been hell. All you could think about was his touch, his cologne, his eyes… you fell hard for a man who could be your dad. And so here you were, drinking in your studio flat. You walked towards the nearest convenience store to buy the cheapest thing you could afford. Alcohol is alcohol, you thought. It all has the same effect in the end.

You were lying on your couch, drunk out of your mind. Crying and sobbing as you listened to Mitski and some other depressing artist you were so sure your neighbors could hear you but you didn’t care. What you assumed was the love of your life turned cold towards you. And you loathed that feeling. All you wanted was to be in his arms again. To feel those muscly arms hug around you as his soft voice whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You really shouldn’t be trusted with alcohol and a cellphone because you made the mistake of texting Leon.

Leon was confused when he received a spam of messages at 2 in the morning. Who is their goddamn mind is still awake at this hour. Lo and behold, your name popped up on his screen. He let out a sigh as he clicked on the chat and began to read.

“I miiiiiissss uuuuu”

“pls, I need u :(“

“y r u ignoring me?”

“I thinkI committer tax wvasion”

Okay the last text made him worried. He knew something was up so he straight up just called you.

The phone rang in your hand and your eyes bulged out of their sockets, not literally. Your breathing quickened and you felt nervous. But you still answered, you put the phone on your ear and you swore you almost died from how hot and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Y/n…?” He spoke through the phone, his voice laced with sleepiness as he just woke up. If you weren’t wet, now you were.

“Leooooon, hi” you slurred. You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid.

Leon sighed heavily as he heard your voice, “Y/n, you’re drunk. Where are you?” You could hear the sounds of rustling in the back as he got dressed and got his keys ready.

“Huh? Oh- uh… I’m at home,” you mumbled as your face grew hot.

“Text me your address,” he demanded in a serious but gentle tone as he hung up. And you couldn’t help but oblige. You sent him your address and waited patiently for him to come knocking at your door.

You fixed your hair and tried to look presentable even after crying all day. Your face was swollen and your eyes were red. So you went to your bathroom and washed your face, hoping the hyperpigmentation would disappear.

You rushed to your front door as you heard knocking. When you opened the door, Leon stood there looking godly. He was wearing grey joggers and a loose shirt. His hair was neat, given that his hair is straight as a door.

“Can I come in?” Leon asked after you stood there, staring at him in silence for a good two minutes. You mumbled a quiet sorry and stepped to the side to let him in.

When he stepped inside, he immediately spotted the bottles lying about on the coffee table. He let out a deep sigh through his nose and began to clean up your place. You quickly followed behind him and tried to stop him.

“Wait, Leon- I can do it,” you said as you took hold of Leon’s arm. He turned around and gave you a stern look. “Sit,” he commanded as he nodded his head towards the couch.

You wanted to argue, you really did but the way his voice seemed to have reached your head and pussy made you unconsciously walk over to your couch. You sat on it and watched as Leon cleaned your apartment, because that’s what coworkers do, right?

Once Leon was done with getting rid of the bottles, he turned to you and began to check your temperature. To be honest, you felt sober now that he was here.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a soft tone as he put his hand on your forehead. “Checking to see if you have a fever, do you feel drunk?”

You shook your head no, “No, I feel fine.”

Leon sighed and took his hand away from your forehead before settling down next to you. “Why did you text me?” He asked softly. You shifted in your seat as you tried to come up with a good excuse, “I was drunk,” you muttered.

He gave you a skeptical look, he wasn’t easy to fool, “Y/n, I know when you’re lying. Let me ask you again, why did you text me?”

You swallowed hard and focused your gaze in your hands in your lap, “I miss you…” you began slowly and quietly, almost scared to start crying, “I wanted to hear from you again. I wanted you.”

His eyes softened but he maintained his face composed. “Y/n…”

“I know what you’re going to say-“ you began, “That I’m too young and naive for you. But I really cannot help these feelings I have for you…”

Leon sat there looking at you in silence as your words settled in his head. He didn’t know how to tell you he felt the same. He inhaled sharply brought his hand to your chin and gently turned your head to look at him,

“My heart aches for you, my mind yearns for you all the time…”

He whispered softly, “I tried so hard to ignore you, to forget you. But you always manage to make me feel these things for you.”

You sat there, shocked at him. Is that how he felt? Did he actually feel the same way as you?

Leon noticed your shocked face and leaned down to kiss you softly. His lips tender against yours, a kiss so sweet yet full of love. When he parted his lips from yours, he stared down into your eyes with a gentle look.

“Leon, I…” Your voice was just above a whisper, “is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Leon nodded at your words. He’s been avoiding you because he also loved you, the only difference is that he was scared.

You kissed him back, a little bit harder than when he kissed you but he didn’t mind. He moved his hand to the back of your head and pressed you against him, his tongue glossed over your lips and forced his way inside your mouth. His tongue swirled around against your tongue and moaned at the sensation of your hands moving towards his chiseled chest.

He gently laid your back down against the couch, your head resting on the armrest as he parted your legs with his knee and settled himself between your legs, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He continued kissing you, moving from the ends of your lips to your jaw as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” His lips settled down to your neck and began to suck at each spot, leaving hickeys where he wanted. You wrapped your hands around his hair and intertwined your fingers with his hair. You moaned as you felt him find your sweet spot. He smiled against your skin and began to sink his teeth a little bit, not too much so it wouldn’t hurt you. He continued sucking, lewd sounds being heard in the living room.

He moved on to the other side of your neck and repeated the same pattern.

Hickey, hickey, bite. Hickey, hickey, bite.

Your hand tugged at his hair as you moaned and squirmed under him. He pulled back from your neck and you whined in response. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he admired the masterpiece under him, “so perfect…” he muttered under his breath as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so perfect, dear,” he whispered as he kissed you once again and let his hands travel under your shirt and caressed your waist and stomach. You let out a breathy moan as your hands explored his chest and shoulders.

He parted from the kiss and laid his forehead against yours as his hands held your waist gently. You stared up at his eyes and admired his features.

“Y/n…do you want this?” He whispered as he looked down at your eyes, trying to read your answer. You nodded, “I do.”

He smiled softly, “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he slowly sat you up to take off your shirt. He pulled the fabric over your head and threw it on the floor. His eyes immediately went to your chest and he gently pushed you down the couch again. His mouth kissed to clavicle and collarbone before kissing the top of your left breast while his hands worked their behind your back and unclasped your bra with ease. He pulled your bra down your shoulders and torso slowly and threw it towards somewhere on the floor.

He pulled back and stared at your breasts, his hands sliding up to hold and massage your breasts in his hands. He leaned to kiss and suck one while his hand groped the other. His thumb and index finger tugging and playing with your hardened nipple as he swirled his tongue in the breasts he was sucking and kissing on. You arched your back and moaned softly. Rolling your head back against the armrest as his mouth worked wonders on your chest. God you tasted so sweet, your skin was soft and sugary. But he wouldn’t say that out loud, he’d hate for you to think he’s a cannibal. He just loved the way your skin tasted and loved the way your body smelled. It only aroused him more.

The bulge in his pants growing bigger against the constraints of the fabric pressed against your inner thigh. You felt his crotch rub against you and it only made you water down at your folds. “Leon…” you moaned out.

He pulled back from your breast, the cold air from the absence of his warm mouth hitting your nipple, causing you to shiver slightly.

“What is it, princess?” He mumbled softly as he caressed his hands down your waist.

“I need more…” you breathed out as you tried to move against his bulge. He held you down by your hips and whispered in your ear, “Patience, I want to treat you right.”

He kissed your lips, your neck, your check and down your stomach before kissing the hem of your shorts. His fingers hooking on them as he slowly pulled them down your legs. He stared down at your panties and saw the wet spot in between your legs, he couldn’t help but smirk as he knew you wanted him too.

He removed your panties gently, watching as the slick of your cunt reluctantly let go of the fabric that separated him and your pussy. He pushed himself between your legs, slowly blowing cold air at your clit and watched as you gripped on the cushions of the couch. He brought his fingers down your folds and slowly dragged them up and down, not entering your eager entrance yet. With one hand, he held your hips down and the other began to gently roll your clit among his rough fingers. He leaned down to kiss your inner thighs, sucking at them just how he sucked on your neck. He made sure you were left marked with his hickeys. Moans and whimpers escaped your mouth as he kept circling your clit until he finally dragged his tongue down your folds. You shuddered in pure delight and closed your eyes in bliss. He moaned as he tasted you, god you tasted even better. He couldn’t help but eat you out like he’s been starving for days.

His tongue delved deep inside your pink walls, swirling his tongue and sucking as much as he could, he pulled his hand away from your clit and held your thighs down so you wouldn’t squish his head. The squelching sounds of him eating your pussy were enough to keep you turned on, it didn’t help that his nose would occasionally bump against your lip and his stubble would crash against your skin, ignoring a fire within your stomach.

Your breathing became more jagged as your walls pulsated around his tongue, he groaned against your cunt. You arched your back and gripped on his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt as he fucked his tongue inside you. He knew you were close to release and he let you cum all over his face. Your moan came out in a high pitched breath as you bucked your hips against his face, riding it as he lapped his tongue to capture your juices. Making sure no drop fell to waste.

He pulled back from your cunt as you panted, your body sweaty and glistening under the shitty lights of your apartment. He slowly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. He pulled down his underwear and let his hardened lengths bounce to his stomach, hitting it with a smack ‘thwack.’

Your eyes widened at his size. The tip was pink and leaned towards the right by a little bit. A being visibly protruding slightly as pre-cum slid down to his base. You were salivating at the sight. He chuckled and caressed your cheek, “Say yellow to stop,” he whispered before his kissed you softly on the lips. You nodded and allowed him to spread your legs just a little bit for a part. He didn’t want to hurt you so he slowly aligned the tip on your entrance and very gently pushed himself inside you. You shifted uncomfortably but also in pleasure. His thick size slowly got swallowed by your walls and his eyes shimmered as he saw you taking him in fully. He was impressed but also felt like he had to be more gentle so you’d grow used to his size.

He pushed until he connected his pelvis against your hip, he looked down at you to make sure you were still on board. He saw the way your mouth was slightly parted as your eyes were tightly shut. “Are you okay?” He whispered as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You opened your eyes and nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He took that to his heart and slowly began to thrust in and out of you. Not fully pulling out as he still wanted to be gentle with you.

Once he saw that you were enjoying his thrusts, he began to go faster. His hips clashing against yours, the sound of his balls clashing against your ass echoing through your living room. He brought his hands up to your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. A gesture that meant he was here for you and only you. He grunted and groaned as he squeezed your hands from how crazy your pussy was driving him.

You moaned and whimpered as you felt your second orgasm was on its way. The fire in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter as your walls clenched around his cock. He shuddered softly as the feeling and cursed under his breath at how well your body felt against him. He whispered sweet praises to help you reach your orgasm, knowing that you may be feeling a little overstimulated. “That’s it, baby, come down on me” “You’re doing so well” “You feel so good, princess”

And it worked. You arched your back, your chest coming into contact with his chest as your cunts gripped and clenched on his cock. Milking him until he felt his orgasm coming as well. But he wouldn’t cum inside of you. He knew better for his princess.

He pulled out and shot his cum on your stomach, his moaned coming out in a husky and low tone. He panted as he stayed there for a moment, while you tried to catch your breath. He got off you and grabbed a tissue from nearby and cleaned your stomach. He then moved down to your legs and cleaned there as well. His touch so gentle, knowing you were still sensitive from him. Once he discarded the dirty tissue, he turned his head up to look at you. You looked so beautiful. He leaned up to kiss you on the lips and smiled softly.

“Let’s run you a bathe, okay?” He whispered and swiftly picked you up bridal style. He walked towards the bathroom and closed the door.

Needless to say, this man is the king of aftercare. After he bathed you, he walked you to your bed and laid you down. Oh and the grown man also loves cuddles, so the two of cuddled to sleep.

[foxes-that-run]

Kiwi

Kiwi has similarities to Blank Space in that it considers if something hurtful in a tabloid was true. Harry said Kiwi was one of the first songs written for the album after a rest post-1d, he described it as releasing a lot of pent up creative energy in the Behind the Music (at 15:50). To Radio 1 Harry said it 'started as a joke but now is one of his favorite songs' (at 13:43). Mine too Harry.

Kiwi music video

The girl in the flower suit in a hallway is Harry. A blonde boy at 1:05 (on the Cactus line) represents Bleachella Taylor on April 29, 2016.

The other kids start flinging words then food and eventually the Harry/TS kids get drawn in. Harry himself shows up to release dogs, remind us of Dunkirk by crawling in the food fight.

Possibly my favourite is that it ends on a class photo that the Taylor child is not in, like every time they are together. it's genius.

When was it written

MMIH, Kiwi and Sweet Creature were the first songs written for the album, in LA between February and May 2016. MMIH and Kiwi are in this photo of the album taking shape from before Harry cut his hair for Dunkirk.

There is also a video of Harry singing it with long hair in Behind the Album

Lyrics

[Verse 1] She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect And all the boys, they were saying they were into it Such a pretty face on a pretty neck

Harry introduces his muse as a smart, pretty woman who smokes and drinks. He has a similar character in Daylight who does cocaine in the kitchen. Harry definitively said on Howard Stern he hates smoking, so while not literal shows Harry's muse is flawed.

[Pre-Chorus] She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it (Oh) But I'm into it (Oh), I'm kinda into it It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it (Hey!) I think I'm losing it, oh, I think she said

Stockholm Syndrome, has similar messages of enjoying being driven crazy by a paramor.

[Chorus] "I'm having your baby" "It's none of your business"

The way Harry sings this chorus like a tabloid headline. The ‘it’s none of your business’ is directed to the media & listener. Taylor also spoke about serious impacts of these in Miss Americana and sold a parody TS tabloid version of Reputation. The parody tabloid connects that Ready for it? also refers to these, To be so lonely has the line 'I wasn't ready'.

[Verse 2] It's New York, baby, always jacked up (Hey) Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus (Uh) In a black dress, she's such an actress

The start of Verse 2 links back to Harry's feelings of pent up frustration and creative energy from the year before.

Cactus is a play on words, cactus/prick/CH, however it’s also sung in a way to sound like Cat(us). In the 2015 Grammys red carpet interview Taylor says she’s "going home to the cats".

Taylor was alone, Harry was touring in Australia, the next time they were seen in the same place was the 2015 BBMAs Taylor was with a cactus.

Gorgeous also includes a line about stumbling on home to her cats alone. In May 2018, long after Kiwi was released, Toe confirmed their relationship with matching cactus photos.

[Verse 3] She sits beside me like a silhouette Hard candy drippin' on me till my feet are wet And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it (Cha-ching!) It's like I paid for it, I'm gonna pay for this (Oh!)

In the final verse is in the aftermath, his connection with his muse is empty, like a silhouette, a reference to Two Ghosts. Ready for it? also refers to them as ghosts.

'Like I paid for it' / 'I'm gonna pay for this' are about a casual hook up with chemistry. This is a Pay for it is a theme in Harry and Taylors songs about each other (like he paid for it), but he still loves them so will emotionally pay for it. Harry uses similar language in other songs, in Grapejuice "I pay for it more than I did back then."

[phoebe-delia]

Tuesday TLC

Thank you to @the-starryknight for brightening the fandom with your work and these TLC Tuesday things! And a big thanks to the enormously talented @academicdisaster24 for tagging me. Everyone should go read Sourdough and also like the sun came out because I am obsessed with that fic and will rec it till my dying days.

Now for my own contribution, I am going to discuss Holy Ground. It's the most recent in my TS as Drarry series on AO3. It's around 5k of Drarry running around New York. It features: lots of banter, the game Two Truths and a Lie, mentions and of 'Chopped' judge and chef Geoffrey Zakarian, my attempts at humor via Draco, flirting, arguing, a Broadway musical, me waxing poetic about a city I've never lived in but want to, me waxing poetic about the stars, a hopeful/happy ending, and an OC named after my darling @written-in-ash, without whom this fic would not have left the safety of my Google Drive.

Here's an excerpt:

Draco knew he should walk away. It would be so very, very easy to leave Potter and disappear into the warm anonymity of the city crowd. He could get takeaway from that Indian place as a reward for not breaking the Statute by hexing Potter on sight in the middle of a high-traffic Muggle area.

But his common sense tended to flee at the sight of messy hair and green eyes.

“You ‘just’ what, Potter?”

“I don’t know my way around here.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “And, what, you want me to be your personal New York tour guide? The city’s a grid system. The streets are numbered. Get a map and use it, or better yet, use your mobile. And the MACUSA headquarters are on the corner of Bowery and Canal Street if you need help.”

Potter’s face crumpled slightly. “Thanks. Sorry to have wasted your time, Malfoy.”

Draco watched as Potter turned away, and he really ought to give his hand a stern talking to for reaching out to grab Potter’s arm. “Wait.”

Potter turned to him with raised eyebrows. Draco flushed and let go of his arm, relieved when Potter didn’t keep walking.

“Why are you here?” Draco cringed internally at the breathy quality to his voice.

Potter’s jaw clenched. “It’s my—well, it was supposed to be my honeymoon with Ginny, but...well, there’s little point in two exes going on a romantic getaway together, and I already paid for it, so…”

Draco took in the sight of a discomfited Harry Potter: a slight flush to his cheeks, white teeth fleetingly biting into a plush, full bottom lip, a hand nervously mussing up the rat’s nest on his head.

He felt his skin tingle with the realization that Harry Potter stood in front of him, vulnerable in the big city. He looked at Draco like a lost child in a supermarket, all big eyes and curiosity. It was heady, the thought of Potter finally seeing him in his element, at his peak—a far cry from the waifish, terrified boy who cowered before the Wizengamot as he was read the terms of his parole.

But this—this was his opportunity to show Potter, and himself, how much he’d changed, how his inherited arrogance became hard-earned pride. Potter would go back to London bewildered and in awe of his weekend—not from the rush of the city, but because he’d spent it with Draco.

It occurred to him that, even after all this time, he still sought Potter’s approval. But he was hard-pressed to deny the 11-year-old boy inside him what he’d wanted since that fateful rejected handshake: the chance to prove himself.

Read the rest on AO3!

In addition to @written-in-ash, I'm gonna tag @rockingrobin69, @ginnyxdarling-1, and @colormehazelnut to participate if you want, but no pressure! <3

[healingchildhoodtrauma]

Sacrificing Authenticity for Attachment: The Adaptive Survival Responses of Children and Their Influence on Future Relationships

(Part 1)

“If our environment cannot support our gut feelings and our emotions, then the child, in order to ‘belong’ and ‘fit in’ will automatically, unwittingly and unconsciously, suppress their emotions and their connections to themselves, for the sake of staying connected to the nurturing environment, without which the child cannot survive. A lot of children are in this dilemma – ‘can I feel and express what I feel or do I have to suppress that in order to be acceptable, to be a good kid, to be a nice kid?’” ~ Dr. Gabor Mate

As children, we learn to sacrifice authenticity for connection. Done mostly unconsciously, our body’s intelligence recognizes that if we are our full, vibrant self, we’ll lose the attachment with our parents. We may lose any semblance of a relationship at all.

Like all mammals, humans are wired for attachment and will do whatever it takes to experience it. Our sense of self, our sense of life, depends on it. When faced with a situation where being authentic is unsafe, we appease our parents’ expectations of how we should be. Their preferences of attitude and behavior trump our instinctive impulse to be honest, expressive, silly, imaginative, etc.—to be the wild, free human being children so naturally are.

Subtle agreements are made with our parents—if I give up myself, you’ll love me; if I hide, do what’s “right”, fit in, not rock the boat, our relationship will stay intact and I’ll be safe.

Time and again, our parent’s expectations and our biological need for proximity overpower our basic birthright and natural impulse to be ourselves.

Tuning into what we think our parents want us to be, and then living that out, is an adaptive survival response. With the help of our built-in survival intelligence, we be and do according to the environmental demands. If we don’t adapt, if we choose authenticity over attachment and fight back, we can be seen as disruptive, needy, selfish, unreasonable, etc. And we can be emotionally or even physically threatened.

You may remember a time you were confronted by a parent; let’s say your dad. Standing at the door of your bedroom, he had cold, stern eyes and you knew you were going to get a talking to. But you also knew that you didn’t do anything wrong, or that his reactions tended to be disproportionate to your “misbehavior”. By the intensity of his sheer presence, you had little choice but to stay in the uncomfortable conversation, when really, you wanted to run. You had words to say, your side of things. You knew the truth of the matter. But, in his familiar angry impatience, he would not hear them. Trembling with anxiety, overwhelm, anger or sadness, and keeping it all in check, you were forced, once again, to give up your feelings, needs and voice for his unwavering authority. You had to give up your authenticity to remain in some semblance of connection. To get through to the other side of the tension. To remain safe.

In this situation, and many other similar ones, there is pain either way for the child. Either they sacrifice their authenticity or they walk away and sacrifice the approval and relationship. There is hurt from not being able to safely and fully express their inner truth, and there is pain from not being able to connect with their father who they want so badly to love them. There is anger and shame from having to suppress what’s real inside to appease their father, from having to stay in a conversation that does not feel safe, supportive, let alone mutual. But there would also be suffering if the child disregarded the relationship and tried to storm out.

Some kids have the courage to fight back, to fight for their life—their worth, dignity, right to be expressed. Some eventually leave. They leave for an hour, a day, and sometimes forever. Short-term departures may take them to a tree fort or down by the river, sacred ground upon which they can rest in their true nature, hear the stirrings of their heart, if only for a brief while. Risking making their parents upset, they temporarily sacrifice the relationship with their parents—their approval—for self-care.

But because kids still need their parents, especially young ones, most eventually return home to face the consequences of choosing themselves.

Despite the pressures of parental expectations and lack of safety in the home, certain children have the presence of mind to not deny their intuition, their truth. Faced with neglect, confrontation or even abuse from their parents, they manage to hold onto the faint voice within that says, “Stay strong”; “Something isn’t quite right here”; “Trust what you know”. Their resilience and inner knowing is that strong. Their spirit isn’t completely repressible.

A few people have told me that when they were young, they felt like they had an angel speaking to them, a presence that was protecting and guiding them. It would come at night or in their sleep, in moments when they felt most alone or scared. This presence informed them not to voice certain things to their parents, for it would upset them; that it was best to keep their thoughts and feelings inside, secretly sealed in their heart, until a future time when their truth could safely come out. These people, when young, managed to hold onto some flickers of inner truth while also remaining hidden from their parents; to be calculating and go through the motions of pleasing their parents while not completely losing their inner flame.

For many, if not most children, however, that voice, that inner fire, loses its power over time. It gets overcome and progressively shrouded by growing layers of fear and trauma and beliefs such as “I’m not worthy”, “I’m not good enough”, “I’m not lovable.”

Indeed, there is a tremendous impact on a growing child’s neurophysiology and identity if they are forced to sacrifice their authenticity, again and again, in their formative years and beyond. And when we take a clear and honest look at how much children choose attachment over authenticity, at home, school, and elsewhere, we can more fully understand why so many suffer with mental illness. As Dr. Gabor Mate states in this presentation, “When our attachment needs are not met, this is the source of all pathology, whether physical or mental.”

https://www.vincegowmon.com/sacrificing-authenticity-for-attachment/

[thoseofgreatambition]

smoking

smoke and roses | prologue | pt 1. get well soon | pt 2. smoking

summary: george is glad to have you back. overjoyed in fact. he writes about flowers now. the nightmares are going away. it would all be perfect, if you would stop trying to sneak in cigarettes. 

a/n: it’s nice to be back and making this series again. i missed it a lot, and i’m happy to be revisiting the topic of grief again and what healing can look like. if you liked marry me, i think you’ll like this. let me know what y’all think please. i love feedback :) 

George’s quill danced across the page, a small smile upon his lips. 

you’re back. 

you’re back you’re back you’re back. 

you’re here. 

you’re here. no kisses is fine.

waiting is fine. 

you’re walking.

you’re smiling. 

you’re joking. 

He stopped writing for a moment, sniffing the air out in the garden as you came closer. George frowned at you as you came closer to him. 

He wrote one last line. 

now if you’d stop fucking smoking. 

“You smell terrible, Y/N.”

The scowl you gave him would have made a weaker man wither. “Want to say that in a nicer way?” 

“No, you said you’d stop smoking.” 

“It was my first cigarette in a week and a half! I think I’ve done very well.” 

George however seemed less than impressed. “You’ve just gotten out of the hospital.” 

“Two months ago--” 

“After being in there for a year.” 

It seemed that a stare down was in order, as you refused to break eye contact with the man. 

“I’m doing my best.” 

“It’s a terrible habit.” 

That you couldn’t deny. You’d picked it up in your sixth year, and Fred had picked it up from you.

George had always been the one to scold you for it. He’d ratted out Fred to Molly which had gotten the poor boy into a great deal of trouble. He’d gone to tell your parents and had found that both of them were incredibly avid smokers. 

You’d been punished for smoking before you were 17, and giving cigarettes to your friend. It’d been enough to have you quit for a few years. You’d apologized to Molly and gone cold turkey with Fred. 

Then the war happened. And you’d reckoned that there were worse habits you could pick up to deal with the stress. Fred still snuck off with you every once in a while to light one up. 

George had been less than impressed. 

“Pop a mint, Y/N. And no more smoking here. Mum hates it.” 

Your teeth ground together for a moment before you nodded and popped a mint into your mouth. “’m sorry George.” You sat down next to him and leant your head on his shoulder. “Don’t mean to make you worry.”

Like always, you made it hard to stay mad at you. “Show me you’re sorry by stopping it.” 

With a nod, you reached into your coat pocket and handed him the carton of cigarettes “You can take ‘em then. Won’t be needing them.” 

George stared down at the box with a frown, remembering how unhappy he’d been cleaning out Fred’s room and finding an empty carton of cigarettes. “Terrible habit.” 

“It is.” 

“Stupid thing to do when you’re recovering.” 

His voice lacked any real anger behind it. He spoke a great deal like when he was chiding his siblings on something they ought not do. A gentle voice that still remained stern enough to get a point across. 

“You’re right.” 

“What made you want to smoke anyways?” George reckoned he was undermining his point by pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you. But the smell of roses from your conditioner was quite nice, and it truly was impossible for him to keep you at an arms length. 

Your silence spoke volumes. He glanced down at you with a larger frown. This time his tone was worried. 

“You’ll be cross with me if I tell you.” there was an odd thread in your voice that he couldn’t quite tie to an emotion. 

He used the same tactic he had when he was younger. A joke. “Can’t be that bad can it? Sure I’ve done worse. Surely you remember me and Fred’s exit from Hogwarts.” 

Tears stung your eyes and your chest seemed to tighten up. A rather painful thing now. When you’d been in the hospital your strep throat had turned into pneumonia pretty quickly, which had led to a whole host of other problems. Any tightness in your chest just served as a reminder of that time. 

Really, you’d been quite stupid for smoking. 

“When I got sick it was just three months after the war, you know? Not that long. And I was in there for a year...” your voice trailed off, unsure of what you were really trying to say. “And everything is different now, you know? It feels like everyone’s moved on and I don’t know how or I’ve missed the boat... and I just...” 

Again you fell silent. Truly you felt awful for bringing this up, especially when George was having such a good time adjusting to it all. 

It was almost a year and a half now, and to you it felt like a much shorter time. 

“I’m sad about it all.” your voice fell even more quiet. “And I really miss Freddie.” 

You’d expected to be chided about how silly that all was. What a foolish reason to pick up a bad habit. Instead you found yourself being hugged so tightly you lost your breath for a moment. Tears welled in your eyes as you gently gripped George’s shirt. 

“Why would I be cross about that?” his voice was muffeled against your neck. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal to be sad. I’m sad too.” 

Your eyes burned for a moment. “I thought you’d think it was silly because it’s been so long since it happened.” 

“Eighteen months isn’t long at all, Y/N.” he held you even tighter against him. “We knew him for years. Probably going to keep being sad for a while.” 

When the tears finally began to fall you gripped onto him even tighter. You weren’t even sure what there was to cry about if it was okay to be sad. The tightness in your chest scared you, and resulted into you gripping onto George painfully tight. 

Gently, he rocked you back and forth, allowing his own tears to fall. “Why don’t we go inside and you can lay down. You’re still getting better. A nap will help out.” 

There was a small nod from you. “Can I nap in your room?” Something about being closer to George made the tightness in your chest feel smoothed away. 

“‘Course. I could use a nap too.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

You had fallen asleep incredibly quickly. Immediately asleep as you hit the pillow of Fred’s old bed. 

George’s brow knitted itself together as he watched your breathing even out. Just why would you think he’d be cross with you? 

Some days seemed like everything was back to normal, and other days you seemed close to tears. Perhaps you didn’t notice yet that most everyone else felt the same way too. 

There was quite a loving look on his face as he spoke softly, “Numpty.” 

He tried to write once more and simply found that his words wouldn’t come out right. Hot tears began to escape him, which he simply did his best to wipe away. When he’d smelled the smell of cigarettes as you came towards him before, he’d half expected to have Fred trying to hide behind you, making jokes about what a terrible influence you were and that George shouldn’t be mad at him. 

Then you would laugh and try to push Fred in front of you and say if he was so brave he should be able to resist temptation. 

He’d been so frustrated before when that would happen but now it seemed to be a rather fond memory. 

You opened your eyes and found yourself staring at a crying George.

“Are you sad too, Georgie?” 

He wiped away his tears the best he could and gave you a smile. “Yeah. ‘m sad too.” 

You held out your arms from underneath your blanket. “Need a cuddle?” 

George nodded silently before crawling underneath the blankets and wrapping his arms around you. A rather squished fit seeing as how small the bed was, but you nuzzled into him and any discomfort faded away. “Yeah. A cuddle sounds good.” 

With a hum you closed your eyes. “Do I still smell bad from the smoking?” 

His chest vibrated underneath you as he laughed. “A little. But that won’t be a problem anymore, will it?” 

He was rubbing circles onto your bath as you shook your head. “Nah. Not a problem anymore.” 

George still found himself crying, but still managed to smile up at the ceiling. 

“Good.” 

He needed you healthy, after all. 

George wasn’t sure how he would handle you getting sick again. 

“’ts really good, Y/N.” 

He half expected a response before realizing you were asleep again. 

You weren’t perfect, but he loved you for it. 

TAG LIST: @fainting-fancy @insearchofnewdreams @stillwater20-blog @lumos-barnes @oh-the-snowinthemoonlight @notstandingstill-imlyinginwait @geeksareunique @phantomhive-shadow @i-am-tired @carolinesbookworld @imaginethis-st @xinyourdreamsx @wildfire-whizbangs @dwarfwizard-from-panem @doct0rstrange @neontiiger @lovelivelovesomemore @diary-of-an-onliner @answer-the-sirens @hasinoreb @1moom-girl1 @familiarcrow @chocok22 @fandom-rpblog @familiarcrow @kimytimeywimey @knreidy1 @obsessedwithrandomthings 

[shinobisakura]

A Flowers and Shuriken.

PROMPTS CURTESY OF @shisakuweek FOR ShiSakuWeek2020 

Friday 21st August :

Soul mark AU

 Where you bare a soul mark that corresponds with your soulmate. You can only see your own soul mark, and it flashes when you’re going to meet them soon. 

Chapter 1 sets the scene. Chapter 2 is the real interaction. Might actual make a few more chapters to this, rework it and then post on AO3

 Chapter 1

Early mornings were not good for Sakura. Ever. Early mornings usually meant skipping breakfast, meeting up with Team 7, an all-out brawl with Team 7, Kakashi-sensei finally showing up several hours after he said to meet up and followed up with some incident that usually dragged her on shift at the Hospital.

Usually.

Toady was not a usual day. I was an incredibly unusual day.

“I’m sorry what?” Sakura spluttered staring at her master.

Sakura along with Yamato, Shikamaru and Hinata were all stood in the Hokage’s office for a last minute mission. None of them knew what it was about, and so far all they’d gotten out of the Hokage was that it was an urgent and immediate mission. So collect your shinobi packs and go. This was the type of mission urgency that only ANBU were sent on- with the exception of the Kazekage retrieval mission a few months ago.

“You four are going to the capital for a very important mission. Because its in the capital, I need the best I can get, and right now that’s you lot.”

“Its not Tora again is it? That mission is such a drag.”

Tora. That damned cat! If Tsunade was sending her on another Tora mission she’d just blow her top. Thirty times as a genin was enough thank you very much.

Tsunade however didn’t seem affected by the comment, and remained as stern as she had began the mission briefing.

“No it is not Tora.”

Silence. Clearly despite the urgency of the mission, Lady-Tsunade was trying to think of the best way to explain the mission without exposing anything critical. Hinata looked around for a moment and then chose to speak up.

“Ts-Tsunade-sama, you said you need the best, but, wouldn’t Na-naruto-kun or Saskue-san or Shino be more suited?”

“No this isn’t suited for them. Naruto and Saskue are likely to burn down the capital in a brawl, Shino is too quiet for this mission, and honestly from what I’ve heard, the Daimyo hates bugs. That would go down just as well as sending you with both of the team 7 idiots. I don’t want Kakashi reading porn in the palace and I really, really don’t want to hear that Genma slept with another Daimyo’s daughter or wife. I just about negotiated for his life in the last case.”

That… was sadly very true. Genma and Raidou had been sent to guard Shizune whilst her fellow medic-nin healed Madam Shijimi. Apparently Genma had caught the eye of the Madam and Daimyo’s daughter, who instantly wanted to add a shinobi shaped notch in her bedpost. That had gone so well for him that it had taken the elders, Lady Tsunade and an offer of engagement for his daughter from the Water Daimyo (curtesy of Naruto begging Kiri’s jinchuriki to help arrange it) for the Fire Daimyo to forget he ever wanted Genma’s head on a pike.

Either way, from Tsunade’s explanation she wasn’t necessarily after the best shinobi but rather the most capable of them. At least the most discreet. Shikamaru seemed to see it that way too.

“So not exactly the best, just the least likely to cause trouble. Damn what a drag.”

“I need you four to meet up with the Daimyo’s guard and pass on this scroll to the guard head. You will return accompanied by said head guard, with the exception of you Yamato, who will be taking over the head guards position until otherwise relieved.”

“Why us? This is going to be such a pain.” Shikamaru compained for the third time that morning.

“Because the four of you are the most qualified for this job. The three of you are all chunin or higher.” Tsunade rubbed the bridge of her nose. “In addition to this, Sakura you have your own mission.”

“Me?”

“Yes. It’s this particular mission that is why you will accompany this team. Once there you will be team leader, as your mission takes over.”

“What? But surely the Head-guard would take over being the more experienced jonin?”

“No. This is your personal mission scroll Sakura. It is only for your eyes and you are not to open it until you reach the guard. Once you’ve read it, you will understand why it is that the team will be under your command. Is that Understood?”

“Understood.” Sakura nodded and then hesitated, her sudden departure from the village might cause more problems than Tsunade would expect.. “Tsunade-hime, will you inform Team-7?”

“I’ll make sure Naruto and Saskue know and don’t burn down the village looking for you.” Tsunade nodded. “Go home, collect your essential and then depart from the sothern gates once you’re all there.”

The team stood to attention and then with that the team departed.

 Within only twenty minutes, the newly formed Captial-Team had geared up, departed the village and were well on their way to the heart of the Fire Country.

“Who is the Daimyo’s head guard anyway?” Shikamaru asked.

“I thought you’d already know?” Yamato blinked back in surprise.

“I know he’s Konoha shinobi, but I didn’t bother to know exactly who. The Daimyo goes through them that quickly.”

That was certainly true. When Sakura had been in the academy it was a well known fact that the Daimyo was sending back the Head-guard every few months. None meeting his personal standard, and some not wanting to deal with the Daimyo’s family any longer.

“It’s Shisui Uchiha. Shisui-san has been the Daimyo’s head-guard the last three years.”

Uchiha? Sakura thought. Saskue had mentioned he had a cousin on a long term mission with the Daimyo, but she hadn’t realised it was Itachi’s Shisui.

“Jeeze, that long? What a drag. What’d he do, beg the Hokage to give him relief or something?”

“I don’t know.” Yamato shrugged.

“It’s- it’s probably because Shisui is the most qualified genjustsu shinobi, aside from Itachi-san. There might be a new mission he’s needed for.”

Sakura snorts at that.

“That’s what Sasuke will have you think. I have it from good authority that Shisui is better than Itachi.”

“And who’s that?” Shikarmau scoffed.

“Itachi himself.” She snorted.

That was true. Itachi had once told her over dango that he and his cousin often spared, but Shisui was always one step ahead. Apparently Itachi said that even Shisui’s sharingan was stronger than his, which was a feat in itself as usually it was only main branch Uchiha who’s sharringan had that much potential.

Hinata giggled at that and Shikamaru groans.

“I do believe that is a good authority.” Hinata quipped.

The team lulled into a silence for a couple more miles before Shikamaru spoke up again.

“So Ino said your soulmark’s been flashing.”

Ah Sakura thought. Yes that was true. The last couple of days the soulmark on the inner of her elbow had began to flash bright every so often. She’d only noticed it the morning two days past, having taken of her guards to realise the mark was flashing. She couldn’t tell if she was excited, happy or terrified at the prospect of meeting her soulmate. The mark itself already telling her she’d have feeling for whoever it was.

“Yeah. So?”

“Well doesn’t that usually mean that your about to meet your soulmate?”

“I don’t know Shikamaru, did that happen when you and Temari met?”

“Ugh. You and Ino are going to kill me with your questions. But if you must know yes. What about you Hinata? Did your soulmark flash when you met Naruto?”

“N-no. I believe that the Soulmark only flashes if you and your soulmate are going to have a romantic meeting.”

“But it has flashed for you and Naruto?” Sakura raised her eyebrows.

“Y-yes. Naruto’s soulmark flashed just before he asked me to dinner in Suna.”

That was surprising, seeing as Hinata had been making moon-eyes at Naruto since pre-academy. But then again, Naruto had had a crush on her until two years ago when Sakura explained soul marks to him. Apparently no one had bothered to teach Naruto in the orphanage and since Saskue had met his own soulmate- and it was Uzumaki to everyone’s amusement, Naruto had been confused as to why Saskue was interested in talking to this brash girl since he hadn’t even bothered looking at Sakura.

It had been funny to see Naruto realise that the mark on his hand which no one else had seemed to ever notice, was in fact his own soul mark- A Lion. Then barely a week after it had began flashing and he was Hinata using her new Gentle Step style. Since then the two had began dating and Hinata had blossomed in confidence whilst Naruto developed a new self-awareness (at least where Hinata was concerned). Sakura had thought the reason Naruto’s mark only flashed then was because he hadn’t known that it was his soulmark, but apparently Hinata knew otherwise.

 “What about you Captain Yamato? Did your soulmark flash when you met your soulmate?” Sakura looked at her team captain. Said Captain turned bright red and nearly missed ducking a branch.

“What makes you think I have a soulmark?”

“The fact you just turned bright red?” Sakura pointed out. “So who is it?”

“None of your business!”

“Oh come on. Hayate and Yugao are soulmates. Naruto and Hinata, Shika and Temari. We deserve to know!”

“Asuma and Kurenai. Hanabi and that Konohamaru kid.” Shikimaru added with a nod.

“Even Kakashi has a soulmate.” Sakura shot in too, and Shikamaru glanced over to her in surprise.

“Really? Who? Not Gai right?”

Sakura snorted but before she could reply Yamato yelled back at them.

“OF COURSE KAKASHI SEMPAI’S SOULMATE ISN’T  GAI!”

“…Is it you.” Shikamaru asked a sly grin on his face before he dodged a kunai thrown at his face.

“I guess so. Wouldn’t have seen that coming.” Sakura grinned at the other two before they continued on, joking as they went.

 It didn’t take them too long, and they arrived at the capital in less than a day, and after an hour of paperwork and approval, they found themselves in a cheap hotel on the outskirts of the city.

“Tch. The Daimyo certainly knows how to treat his shinobi.” Shikamaru groaned.

“I thought you’d be pleased, you get to sleep in a bed before we go speak to the Daimyo and his guard.” Sakura quipped back.

The group unpacked their gear slowly making use of their down time before the following day.

 “So. What’s your soulmark?” Shikamaru asked raising his brows.

“Shikamaru-san! You can’t asked that.”

“Why not? Might help us narrow it down. There’s a good chance she’ll beet whoever it is in the city, seeing as it only recently started to flash.”

That was true. Soulmarks always corresponded with Soulmates in one form or the other. It just took a little longer for some people to work out.

“Good point. Only fair you tell me yours first.”

“Meh, mine is a fan. You know, cause Temari uses them or something.”

Hinata giggled at that before adding her own.

“M-mine is a kitsune-festival mask.”

Sakura laughed.

“Oh, those are definitely big hints. Although if you didn’t know Naruto it might take a little longer.” Sakura shook her head. Those were easy to recognise.

“So what is yours.” Shikimaru asked, breaking Sakura’s thoughts.

“It’s… It’s weird. It’s like some strange curved Shuriken or something.”

“A shuriken?”

“Kind of? It’s just weird. I thought maybe I’d run into a shinobi who used a custom shuriken or something? Maybe a pinwheel? But I don’t know anyone outside of wind country who are related to pinwheels.”

“Weird.” Shikamaru agreed. “Usually a Soulmark is connected to something unique about the person not their weapons.”

“You literally just said your soulmark for Temari is a fan.”

“Because her jutsu is unique and connected to fans. There have only been three shinobi in Suna history to use fans to slice air.”

“Fair enough.” Sakura slumped down. Her mark would be difficult to work out.

“Look lets sleep on it. Maybe in the morning you’ll know more.” Hinata added and they nodded in agreement. Sleep sounded wonderous. 

Chapter 2

“YOU WANT TO WHAT?!” 

Apparently the Hokage had not sent word to the Daimyo about the change in his guard. Said guard was stood, face entirely blank, beside the screaming noble. So far the scroll handed to him had only upset the Daimyo into something of a tantrum. In fact, Naruto’s own tantrums when told he couldn’t have ramen seemed like an elders council speech compared to the display before the team.

“We are here to exchange Captain Yamato here, for your current head guard Shisui Uchiha. Whilst we understand the lack of notice -something urgent has come up that only Shisui can help deal with. Yamato here is more than qualified to guard yourself and your family Lord Daimyo. In fact he is the only Shinobi aside from the First Hokage to have the Mokuton. Lady Tsunade selected him personally to ensure your safety.”

If there was one thing Sakura had learned from her master, it was the art of kissing up to nobles to get the outcome you want. Well that and how to hold ones liqueur. But only one of those skills was useful right now, and if anything Sakura would kill for a drink to help deal with this.

“Why?” 

“Because your safety is paramount to the peace of the Land of Fire, my lord.”

“No. Why do you need Uchiha?”

“I’m afraid that’s above our clearance to know. As the Hokage’s apprentice she thought that my presence might help reassure you the urgency of this mission as well as our knowledge of how important you are to the Land.”

A little lie didn’t hurt either. 

“Yes, yes. I did find it odd for Tsunade to send two clan heirs and her own apprentice.” His face seemed stunned for a moment before he masked it with a sagely imitation of wisdom.

Clearly, only now had the Daimyo realised who Sakura was, probably having thought she was simply a pretty face added to placate him. Technically that was probably also part of Tsunade’s planning, but Sakura didn’t need to let him know that.

After a little more back and forth, Shikamaru adding that technically Shisui was due to leave from the guard anyway, the Daimyo finally agreed. With that they regrettably left Yamato in place of Shisui and the group left. Not having shared a word with each other until they were long out of the capital.

The group stopped after an hour of running and opted to set up camp.

“Holy shit.” Shikmaru finally burst. 

“Y-you sounded very convincing S-sakura-chan.” 

Sakura, to her credit, simply shrugged as the other collapsed in giggles.

“I had to train with Homura and Koharu in the art of politics. The Daimyo is nothing compared to those old bats and the clan elders.” 

Shisui laughed at that. It was warm and reminded Sakura a bit of Naruto.

“Right, before anything else. My name is Shikamaru Nara, this is Hinata Hyuuga, and the political negociator over there is the Hokage’s apprentice.”

“The name’s Sakura.” She grinned. “Very sorry for the unexpected legal kidnapping.”

“I honestly didn’t expect it. So tell me, why have you retrieved me?” 

Sakura opened her mouth before closed it. She didn’t actually know, she hadn’t even read her scroll yet, so right now it could be anything. Technically the brief had been to swap Yamato for Shisui and have him accompany them in whatever the new mission was.

“Gimmie a second.” She finally said, pulling out her own mission scroll. It was written formally like any other mission scroll, but there was an obscurity about it that made Sakura scowl.

Sakura, apprentice of Hokage Tsunade. Your mission is to heal the damage done to Shisui Uchiha’s eyes through use of the Sharingan with the assistance of Hinata Hyuuga and Shikimaru Nara. Here is the knowledge compiled on the degenerative abilities of the Sharingan, and what little knowledge we have on preventing it. 

Please report back to the village once you are confident in having gathered all the necessary things.

Dispose of this once read 

Signed. 

Homura Mitokado

Koharu Utatane

Hokage Tsunade Senju. 

That- That was impossible. Tsunade herself had explained to Fugaku that the sharingan’s damage was irreversible. 

“Are they- THEY CAN’T BE SERIOUS!” Sakura yelled, ripping up the scroll.

“What? What?!” Shikamaru, for once in his life, looked worried. 

“Those- those idiots are expecting a miracle.”

“What?”

“Tell me Uchiha-san, how long have you been going blind?”

The following exchange went from Shisui initially denying it to finally Sakura giving him a lecture that he was acting like Saskue did when he was being stupid about a critical injury on a mission. Shikamaru and Hinata decided to make themselves scarce during this exchange, which Sakura thought was probably from learnt experience with her and her squad. After a bit more back and forth Shisui pouted and sat down as ordered, allowed Sakura to cast a diagnostic jutsu after explaining she was a medic-nin. 

“So you know Saskue?”

“I’m on his dumbass original genin squad. Sakura Haruano. I’m pretty sure Itachi probably mentioned me at some point.”

“You’re Sakura?” 

“What were you expecting. Some burly woodcutter type?”

“I was expecting someone a bit... Younger?”

“ARE YOU SAYING I’M OLD!”

“No! No! I just keep imagining Saskue and his team as 12 year old genin. It’s hard to picture him as anything but.”

“Well him and Naruto technically still are genin. Saskue ended up injured the past two chunin exams. Different incidents of course. And Naruto went on a round trip with the Pervert himself.” 

“Pervert... You mean Jiraiya?” Shisui seemed stunned at the name.

“Yes. Could you activate you Shaingan for me?” 

He obliged. 

“Okay. Now seeing as its just us. Can you show me your other form of sharingan.” 

“You know about the Mangekyo.

“Itachi mentioned it on one of his physicals. Said it was draining.”

Shisui nodded, and then activated it. 

Sakura froze completely and almost immediately Shisui deactivated it.

“I'm sorry! You asked me to activate it!”

“You- you - you-” Sakura couldn’t get the words out. 

How. How the hell was her soulmark in his eyes. 

Of course she knew the answer. He was her soulmate.

“I ams sorry. I know that it’s a bit intimidating, but you didn’t seem-”

“Shut up a second!” Sakura finally cut him off. “What’s your soulmark?”

“What?! What does that have to- It’s a flower. Actually, hang on!”

He pulls out a pressed flower from his jacket. It was a purple bell shaped flower, and instantly Sakura recognised it.

“That’s Aconite.” Sakura blinked at the flower.

“Yeah?”

“It’s poisonous.”

What kind of dumbass walked around with a press of a posioness flower in his jacket. Sakura herself didn’t do that. That was beyond stupid and dangerous. Sure she used it all the time, but she was a medic nin she could handle and accidental poisoning. Unless of course Shisui was a poison expert and was using it in some sort of concoction. 

“It is?”

No. Apparently he was a dumbass like Naruto.

“Yeah. It is. Why do you carry it around in your jacket? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Huh? I just carry it in case I run into my soulmate, then I could pull it out and present it to her.”

Oh, never mind kill himself, he wanted to accidentally kill his soul mate too! If she hadn’t known better, he’d have killed her.

“I use it in my antidotes and- Well its my favourite flower.”

“Your favourite flower is poisonous?”

Sakura snorted. “Ino- my best friend- compared me to an Aconite bud when we become friends. It stuck with me I guess.”

Shisui’s face seems to fill with realisation.

“So... This flower has a special connection to you?”

“Yes, and clearly the curved shuriken is connected to you, seeing as its in your eyes.”

“Wait! Are you trying to say-?”Apparently she had to spell it out for him.

 “That that weird dumbass shuriken soul mark I’ve been branded with is actually your mangekyo? Yeah.” 

“Huh.”

Sakura snorted once more. 

“I guess I’ve got a real reason to be motivated to find your cure now.”

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like a Butterfly...

Master Fu couldn't allow this to continue. Adrien needed to understand, needed to trust his judgment and listen to Ladybug.

But Adrien did understand. Gabriel taught him the same lesson every day. If they saw him as worthless then Adrien wanted nothing to do with them.

He couldn't choose his Father.

But he could choose this.

Ch.1 OK Boomer

Master Fu makes another mistake in a long life of making mistakes.

"I'm sure there'll be another Chat Noir to give me cheese... But he won't be you."

Adrien smiled softly at Plagg's words, the fingers around his Miraculous lowering, as his kwami soothed the sharp, spiked pain in his chest. He could be patient just a little while longer. Even if he was itching to do something. To help. Adrien didn't like being benched... But Plagg said they needed him. So he'd wait-

Both boy and kwami started as a green figure landed on the rooftop with them. The short man was covered in turtle inspired armor. Adrien saw a stern gaze look out from under the stranger's conical hat.

"Master- !" Plagg exclaimed, green bubbles coming out of his mouth. "You transformed!"

"Master?" Adrien glanced between his kwami and... "Who are you?"

"I am the Guardian of the Miraculous, Chat Noir."

Adrien's eyes widened at the sound of his hero name.

Steeling himself for what had to be done Master Fu leveled a disappointed look at the boy. "And you, Adrien, have made a serious breach of trust."

"Wh-what?" The unease in Adrien's gut rose at the scolding tone of the Guardian.

"Master," Plagg tried. "He was just-"

"About to give up one of the two most powerful Miraculous. The one I entrusted into his care." Master Fu didn't raise his voice, he spoke evenly, factually, grimly. Trying to get the boy to admit his mistake.

Instinctively, Adrien covered the ring with his hand.

"Maybe I was wrong to trust you with Destruction." Master Fu sighed.

Plagg zipped toward the Guardian. "Master, you can't mean that!"

A cold, sharp jolt arced across Adrien's spine as his eyes widened. Then narrowed, Chat Noir rising with his anger. "Trust? You kept me in the dark! Ladybug-"

"It was not her secret to keep." Brow furrowing, Master Fu looked back at Adrien. "Ladybug vouched for you. And here you are, proving that she was mistaken, that you're not ready. Surely you can understand that?"

"I didn't even know you existed!" Adrien dug his fingernails into his palms, trying to ignore the patronizing attitude of the Guardian. "Why did you choose me if you were just going to keep me at arms length? Why does Ladybug get to choose our teammates? Why did it take all of Paris!" Here Adrien extended his arms to take in the drowned city. "Flooding for you to show your face!"

Plagg tried to interject but he was spoken over.

"It is precisely because Paris is flooded that I am here!" Master Fu took a step toward Adrien and the boy stepped back. "I chose you because I thought you would stand by Ladybug no matter what."

Adrien tensed but forced himself to stand his ground.

"I should have interfered sooner." The Guardian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I thought you would grow out of this infatuation you have with Ladybug."

Genuine confusion came over Adrien despite his anger and hurt. "Wh- What are you talking about?"

"Just because Ladybug does not love you back is no reason to behave in this manner!"

"What are you talking about!?" Adrien shouted. Does he really think so little of me? "What does that have to do with anything!?"

"Ladybug proved herself to me!" Master Fu shouted back, ignoring Adrien's inquiry. "You haven't!"

It was like the Guardian had struck him, Adrien flinching from the blow. Looking away from the Guardian's gaze, his eyes found Plagg's. For the first time since he met the kwami, Plagg was silent. Ears and tail drooping. Like he felt every cruel jab the Guardian's words dealt the boy.

Master Fu softened his features as he took in the boy's trembling, tense stance. Like a cat ready to pounce... Or run. "Do you understand?" he asked gently. "Ladybug trusts me and you should too. Without trust a team will fail. But if you can't, then I'll find someone who can."

Forcing his eyes back towards the Guardian, Adrien's mind made a sudden, unexpected turn. You sound like Father. Adrien stilled and examined the 'Master' again.

The Guardian wasn't as tall as Gabriel or as... looming as Gabriel. His voice wasn't as cold. But the manner in which this stranger spoke of trust was familiar. Like Adrien had heard it before.

Empty promises, his mind whispered. He goes on and on about trust while offering none in return. Cold dread turned to searing heat in Adrien's chest. Using Ladybug, someone you love, to guilt you into following orders. Fists trembled at his side with the effort of restraining his growing rage. Threatens to replace you for daring to ask questions! Adrien's heartbeat pounded in his ears, insisting, demanding.

"Do you understand?" Master Fu repeated.

"... I understand," Adrien said as he brought his hand up to tear the cursed ring off.

"NO!" Plagg latched himself onto the ring.

Master Fu's eyes blew wide open with shock. "What do you think you're doing!"

Adrien gazed at Plagg with a pained expression. But it quickly hardened into a glare as Adrien lifted his eyes to the Guardian. "What does it look like? I'm quitting."

Panic bloomed in Master Fu's chest as he mentally sought a way to push Adrien in the right direction. Seizing onto the first thought that came to him.

"I'm sorry, Plagg." Adrien didn't look at his friend.

"If you do this you'll prove I was right not to trust you!"

"... Please, Adrien..."

"You'll prove that you're not ready!"

"Goodbye. I'll mi-" Adrien swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll miss you."

"That you're unworthy of wielding a Miraculous!"

Using the Guardian's desperate words as fuel, Adrien pushed down his upbringing. The side of himself that told him to be respectful of his elders. And let Chat Noir out for the last time. "OK, boomer."

With that, Adrien yanked the Miraculous off and practically threw it at the Guardian. Scrambling to make sure the ring didn't fall into the waters below, Master Fu was distracted just long enough for Adrien to disappear.

Staring at the empty space in disbelief, Master Fu's brow furrowed. He could look for the boy... but Adrien had already made his choice. And there were more pressing matters than a former Chosen's tantrum.

Master Fu hurried to Ladybug's aid.

Adrien didn't move from his hiding place in a corner of the roof. Even as he heard the stranger leave. The rage he felt replaced with heartbreak. Tears pooled in his eyes as his mind caught up.

The person Adrien trusted most in the world trusted that- that- man, more than she trusted him. That is, Ladybug didn't really trust him. Adrien pulled his knees to his chest.

Being Chat Noir was his favorite thing in the world... But just like everything else he wasn't 'good enough'. Not for his Father, not for Ladybug, not even for Plagg! Adrien buried his face into his arms.

Pain bloomed throughout his body, shoulders shaking, as he allowed himself to mourn the loss of Chat Noir. Only one other person would mourn with him. In that moment Adrien doubted anyone else would be sorry to see Chat go... And even he would get a new holder soon enough.

Ladybug would get a partner she could count on, the so-called Guardian would get someone who doesn't question orders and even Father wouldn't have to deal with his disappearances.

Really, the only one who lost anything... was him. And what did that matter if Paris was safer without him? He stayed there, curled into a ball, crying silently into his arms.

Until the Miraculous Cure lifted him off the roof not fifteen minutes later.

[rubyredsparks]

Blossoming Souls  Ch. 1

Relationship(s): Romantic Logince, Moxiety; Platonic every other relationship

“Tags” for the whole story: morally grey!deceit, Deceit, Remus, Thomas as a character, Romance, Minor violence, someone’s potty mouth, Foul language, Minor homophobia (it’s not that bad), Miscommunication (this one is though), Friendship

Summary: Prince Roman Aster is the ideal prince. Suave, brave, charming. He can easily defeat any combination of monsters within a few hours and still be have time to woo anyone who catches his fancy.

Prince Logan Wysteria is the ideal prince. Obedient, intelligent, strategic. He can easily dismantle any argument or strategy his enemies can come up with in a matter of minutes.

The two have never met, but when the words ‘arranged marriage’ slip out, Prince Roman does everything he can to ensure that the two kingdoms will have a successful treaty.

But why doesn’t Prince Logan seem to notice his attempts at courting?

Chapter Summary:  The King of Aowhea makes a decision; the King of Eiehde concedes; the princes of those two countries don't like that decision

Link to AO3

@ts-storytime

“Must it be done, my King?” the King’s advisor asked.

“I’ve no way around it,” the King said wearily.

His face sunken and head bowed slightly. The posture of a defeated man. “The Kingdom of Aowhea insists on this contract, refusing any other stipulation. Furthermore, we need the commodities that that Kingdom can provide lest we suffer through another hungry winter.”

“His Highness would be unwilling to accommodate, I had thought.”

“Roman is another sort, he wishes for more flights of fancy and is not as grounded in reality as much as I wish,” the King sighed. “However, he does know his duty to the crown; I have spoken to him and he understood the necessities that he must go through for the people.”

“And the Kingdom of Aowhea?” the advisor asked. “We haven’t dealt with such- and I’m sorry to say, your Majesty- such an insidious group in years.”

“Virgil, you, more than most, understand that appearances can be deceiving.”

Virgil dipped his head, black curly hair falling in front of his eyes, but did not agree. “I was another problem altogether, your Majesty.”

“Be that as it may, I’ve written the letter, agreeing to his terms. The Prince is not a bad man, Virgil, this union will aid our kingdom. What with their army and all. It is a give and take. We have our navy and they have their army. We’ll be powerful allies in times of war.”

Virgil scowled, but nodded his head, able to see the justification, “If you think it necessary, then I shall agree, my King. However, should there be signs of malcontent, I advise a stipulation that the contract be null and void.”

“Of course,” the King smirked, “Years of your nagging has gotten to me, I have added our own sort of contingencies.”

Virgil nodded, a small quirk of a smile on his lips. He bowed, “I shall inform the Prince of your decision, Majesty. When shall we expect His Royal Highness of Aowhea to arrive?”

“In three days’ time, it shall be enough for the Prince to get his bearings,” the King announced, standing up. He waved the advisor away, “Tell Roman that I thank him, and I shall see him at dinner tonight.”

“According to your will, your Majesty,” Virgil bowed low, striding out of the office room.

The King glanced down at the parchment, rereading the words that he had signed with a sick sort of dread.

Marriage Arrangement

He closed his eyes, breathing in once, twice, three times deeply, and set his pen to ink before signing it with quick and clever strokes.

“Please, Lady above, may this arrangement be one of happiness and unity,” he whispered to the heavens above. His eyes glanced out the window, seeing his son parry and attack with a wide grin.

The King felt a sad smile spread across his face, “May my son find love even in this cruel union, I ask this in Your most Holy name. Amen.”

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

“Is this necessary, Father?”

“My son,” the King’s deep rasp echoed throughout the empty throne room. His rigid stance and empty eyes bore into the Prince’s, who shivered.

His hands twitched with the need to fix his glasses, but he kept that clasped firmly behind his back.

The golden and black robes the King wore was simple, yet elegant enough that it made the Prince’s simple blue tunic feel inferior. His heterochromia was piercing, one golden and one brown, and seemed to stare into the depths of his soul.

The burn mark on his left side of his face was a stain that seemed to be darker as he stared down at Logan. His Father shared so many of the same features, from their dark skin tone to their broad shoulders. If it wasn’t for Logan’s smaller height and his eyes, the two could have been mistaken for brothers.

But Logan felt no pride in that distinction. The only feature of himself that he loved were his blue eyes. He had his mother’s eyes.

“Do you not want our kingdom to be successful?”

“Father, that is not what I-”

“Do you wish to see our kingdom crumble?”

The Prince stammered, hands clenched at his side, nails digging into the palm of his hands. His heart clenched at the insinuation. “Father, I would never-”

“Then why is it that you hesitate, Logan?” The King's glare made Logan crumble, his will shriveling up as if it had never existed in the first place.

He nodded in defeat, eyes downcast and hands clasped behind his back again, twisting and tightening in a nervous tic. “As you command, Father, and so I shall obey.”

“Good,” the King's voice was seeped with satisfaction and victory. Logan didn't look up, knowing that he would only see his Father's steely, cruel glare.

“You are dismissed,” the King said haughtily.

Logan nodded once, turning on his heel and exiting the throne room. He held his head high as he strode toward the doors.

Typically he could ignore the stares of the guards stationed by the doors, but as the rays of the sun bore on him through the thin awnings, he felt as if even more critical eyes were on him.

The giant, open windows contrasted greatly with the frigid atmosphere. Logan put a hand on the handle, pushing slightly on the wooden door.

He walked out of the throne room, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. The overbearing atmosphere had suffocated him, and he was glad to be out of it.

His feet automatically set forth toward his room, the familiar path bringing unwanted thoughts to the forefront of his mind.

The door opened with the help of a guard, and Logan was almost distracted enough to not nod his gratitude to him, fortunately catching himself and nodded stiffly. He slammed the door shut, bracing his forearms against the wooden door.

His eyes clenched tightly shut, breath rattling his lungs. His forehead rested on his arms, a steady pressure to focus upon.

Clenching his jaw, he counted backwards from ten, reaching two until his heart stopped aching and his thoughts settled.

“Highness?” Patton’s soft concern enveloped him, and he felt like sagging against the door.

He straightened, fixing his tunic and ascot. “Apologies, Patton,” his voice was hoarse, “I had not realized you were there.”

Patton made a sympathetic humming sound, feet padding toward Logan whose back was still toward him.

He laid a gentle hand on Logan's shoulder, warm and reassuring, “What happened, my Prince?”

“Nothing of importance, Patton,” Logan evaded. He twisted away from Patton’s grip, heading toward his desk.

Shuffling papers together, he produced a fresh sheet of parchment, taking out his pen and ink canister.

He dipped the pen into the canister, hand shaking as the tip touched parchment. Inhaling deeply, he inscribed the words he needed to send to the Kingdom of Eiehde.

The room was suffocating as he wrote, Patton’s concerned stare boring into his back. His hand ached as he penned the words to paper, sending his transcript away.

“Your Highness,” Patton’s voice was stern, and Logan's pen stilled. “You needn't be afraid of telling me your dilemmas. After all, what better than a personal guard to guard all your secrets?”

Logan sighed and set his pen in the inkwell. He cast his head downward, eyes closed, “Father wishes to send me as an envoy to the Kingdom of Eiehde.”

“Why is your face such a sight, Highness?” Patton asked. “There is no need to be such a seed against that bloom of opportunity. Did you not wish for a chance outside these palace walls?”

“Not when it is obvious that Father just wishes to send me away,” Logan spat harshly. He sat down heavily at his desk chair, shoulders drooping in weariness.

Patton’s feet padded lightly over to him, putting his hands on Logan’s shoulders and rubbing tense muscles away. Logan relaxed slightly, the anger simmering less in his chest with only the memory lingering still.

“Think of it as this, Highness,” Patton murmured lowly in his ear, “this is your chance for your Father to be proud of you. Should you do a good job upon your return then he shall send you again, trusting your judgement on bigger and better matters.”

Logan hummed, a soft buzz tingling his body. His body felt heavy from the day’s trysts, and he wanted to hide away in the cover of his bed as protection. He knew it was illogical, to want such solace, but he yearned for even an ounce of comfort from his Father.

“Perhaps,” he sighed, pulling away from Patton’s grip. He bent down, looking at the foreboding parchment in front of him.

He shook his head, folding the paper in three crisp folds and sealing it away with a wax seal. “Send this to the nearest messenger, if you please.”

“Of course, Highness,” Patton bowed his head, sending for a page.

Logan looked longingly out the window at the school children, laughing and smiling as they ran through the town square. Shaking his head away from those thoughts, he turned away and went back to the other stacks of papers.

“Perhaps I shall learn of our relationship with Eiehde,” he murmured quietly and picked up another paper.

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

“My King, do you think it wise to do this to your son?”

The King gave his advisor a cold glare, but she held a steady gaze with him. Her short, dirty blonde hair was pinned with blue clips next to her eyes, and her stance was firm. The King made an effort to stare her down, but after so many years together it proved fruitless.

“Emile, there is no other way. The rebels have already sent their threat, and Logan is not as beloved by the people as Valerie. If he dies, it is the fault of mine. The people will see his possible death as a weakening of the throne. Logan knows only theory, he needs experience.”

“Sire, I fault you not for that but of the rebels,” Emile pointed out, her green eyes glaring at him. “You spoiled him, allowing him to read to his heart’s content rather than tutoring him on court matters.”

She paused, eyes watching him carefully over the rim of her glasses. “He shall think you are sending him away again.”

“Am I not?” He chuckled hollowly, “My son would rather spend his time reading books or whiling away in the libraries, I accept that. I will not accept, however, that he does not know how to rule. Perhaps this union will prove learning for him.”

“Your Majesty, understand that your son already seems to think ill will against you with your constant isolation away from him.”

“Enough,” the King’s cold voice echoed darkly in the small study. He stood up, walking past Emile and grabbing a sealed letter.

“This,” he brandished the paper in front of himself, “is a copy of the agreement that the King of Eiehde and I signed. We have agreed that my son must first adjust to the new palace before the wedding.”

Her eyes narrowed, darkening green eyes flashing, “You have gone behind my back, Sire, and did this without my knowledge?”

“Can a king not rule without an advisor breathing down his neck?”

“Not when it comes to the future of your kingdom,” Emile said, eyes blazing in outrage. She took a deep breath, asking in a strained but calmer voice, “What of your son, what does he have to say to this- this situation?”

“Logan knows his duties, he knows that this must be done,” the King waved away her concerns. “He accepted my demands.”

“Does he even know that you are marrying him off? Or does he think otherwise?” She asked, knowing tone and eyes boring into the King.

The King turned his back to her, looking out the window and silently answering her question.

She let out a harsh breath, “So that’s it? Your only son is going to be shipped off with a ribbon tied around him while his sister gets the throne?”

“The wedding will be in a month and a half’s time,” the King said evenly, not turning to face her. “From there, relations between Aowhea and Eiehde will strengthen and allyship will be beneficial for the both of us.”

“While I agree that this would benefit relationships between our two kingdoms-”

“Then we reach an accord.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I just wish that you had gone about it in a different way.”

The King’s back tensed before it sagged out of him, he sighed heavily, “As do I, Emile, as do I.”

“My King,” her voice was gentle, but the King didn’t want to face her pitying face.

“There was no other way around it, Emile,” the King spoke up suddenly, turning to face her. “Logan was a laughing stock amongst my council.”

His face contorted into a sneer, “They think that being educated means less than gaining power, the ability to manipulate politics and people being better than gaining knowledge.”

She scoffed an incredulous laugh, and the King nodded wearily, “As if they did not go through schooling themselves. They find it odd that a ‘distinguished’ man such as Logan would continue learning and not immediately learn a craft, in his case ruling. They think it wrong for a man to not want to hunt or fight, but to only read.”

“Why are you unable to replace your council again?”

“They’ve much power within the ranks,” he said. “I can do no more than I have now. Sending Logan away where he will not be ridiculed is the best I can do.”

“The council will not like this,” Emile said. “They believe a marriage between two men unsightly. They will object.”

“Let them,” the King said. “I’ve already signed the treaty. My way of helping my boy and getting back at the council.”

Emile gave a wry smile. “He shall still think that you love him not,” she added. “All his life, he has been striving for some sort of your affection, and yet you refuse to show him any.”

“So be it,” the King said, unconcerned. “He is grown, and his own man. He needs not my approval to do well in life. This is for the sake of the kingdom.”

“Majesty, that isn’t any way to raise your child.”

“And how shall I know the ‘correct’ way in raising children?”

“You’ve raised two,” Emile pointed out dryly, her pink glasses falling to the tip of her nose as she stared at the King, unimpressed. “Besides that, parenting is a learned trait, learning new things every day.”

“Bah!” he waved away her concern again. “Logan is his own man, he knows how to handle himself.”

Emile sighed, raking a hand through her short hair. “As you say, Majesty. When is his Highness leaving?”

“In three days’ time,” the King shifted, walking back to his desk. He picked up a photo, smiling sadly at it. The bright blue eyes of his son staring back up at him, looking so much like his wife. At times like these, he missed his wife.She would know what to do. The burn on his left feeling itchier and heavier than usual. He sighed, setting the photo down and glancing at the bobbing head of a small rooster figure, pecking up and down, “May he find the love he needs.”

“Amen.”

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

“What!”

“Roman, please,” King Thomas pleaded tiredly. He rubbed his eyes, “You and I both know that this was a possibility. Arranged marriages are not uncommon.”

“But not so soon, Father!” he protested. He threw his arms up, and started pacing back and forth in front of his bed. The King watched as he walked back and forth, half torn between amusement and tiredness.

Roman ran a hand through his red-brown hair, “Father, you promised me that I would get a chance at true love!”

“Perhaps this is your chance at true love, my son,” the King said gently. “You can court the young Prince, and you may even fall in love.”

“Please,” he scoffed, dismissing his Father’s optimism. “The Prince of Aowhea is unfeeling, he knows not kindness nor love, should I court him, he shall rebuff me.”

“And where have you heard such rumours?” the King frowned, he shifted on the bed, his back hitting the headboard.

“The people gossip,” he waved a dismissive hand. “And since our kingdom borders Aowhea, the towns trade with each other. Though the trade routes have become more treacherous since Aowhea’s bandit problems have become more and more troublesome. Our soldiers struggle maintaining the peace.”

“Indeed,” the King nodded with a slight frown. “Hopefully this union will be able to fix that. However, gossip does not mean the truth. Perhaps, there is a misconception about the Prince.”

“Still,” Roman insisted, pausing to stare at his Father. “Rumours lie in truth somewhere.”

“That may be true, Roman, but first get to know the boy before you make any harsh judgements of him. You mustn’t judge a person by his rumours.” The King smiled knowingly at the Prince, “Are there not rumours of your facing of the Dr-?”

“Father!” Roman was bright red and indignant, strands of curly brown-red hair falling in front of his eyes. “We agreed not to speak of that!”

The King let out a hearty laugh, same reddish-brown curls bouncing back as his head bobbed up and down. “I jest, I jest, my son. Regardless, the Prince cannot be as horrible as others make him out to be. Look at Virgil, he seems like a gruff man, when he is in fact the sweetest and most intelligent man I’ve met.”

“Look out there, Father, else I assume that Virgil shall be my new Father,” Roman teased, knowing full well how the King would react.

The King made a disgusted face, wrinkling his nose, and Roman laughed. He sighed, “Virgil is practically your age. I have seen him grow up, that- that is just not right.”

“Of course, Father, I merely jest about that.” Roman said with a laugh. He made a pensive hum, expression shifting to a thoughtful one, “Perhaps… perhaps I shall give his Highness a chance. After all, we gave Virgil one, and now he is the most trusted advisor in the kingdom.”

“I knew you would see my way,” the King beamed. He stood up, crossing over to Roman.

Clapping a hand on his shoulder, the King said, “The Prince shall come three days hence. He shall stay with us for a month, and then the wedding shall commence. Unless something happens and the contract becomes void, of course.”

Roman nodded distantly, murmuring,  “Gives me enough time for another hunt.”

The King fixed him with a stern glare, “You must be here to welcome the Prince’s arrival, Roman, there is no way around this. We need this agreement.”

Roman nodded somberly, bowing, “As you will, Father, and I shall obey.”

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

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This is the first chapter of my big bang work! Tagging @ninja-wizard101​ because they wanted to be tagged as well as @thats-so-crash​ because they have been a wonderful friend in letting me vent my frustrations in woe as I was writing this. I hope you enjoyed!

Masterpost | Next Chapter

[hirocimacruiser]

Toyota Vitz on Stern Face-1 TS (Touring Sports) wheels.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

One of a Kind- Chapter 7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191861/chapters/51333751#workskin

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13360973/1/One-of-a-Kind

Yato hasn't felt panic in a long time. It made him feel like a child, like his Father was still angrily standing over him. Like he was still strapped to the operation table having iron and wires melted into his body. But now, it wasn't him on the bed being taken apart. Yato kicked at the light-wall, shaking when it felt like cement. The Emishi next to him was yelling something, startling Yato's other neighbor awake. From his right, a woman put a hand on his shoulder, to the left the Wall-H gripped his shirt and tried to pull him back.

"What are you doing?"

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Yato threw them both off and put his hands in his hair and tugged.

"Arg! I don't have time for this!" Yato pointed his finger at the wall shooting the light's base with his laser. The wall flickered but didn't budge, Yato leaned over and tried the control panel. At some point the bear-man had gripped one of his pockets and fumbled his iPod. A happy song from the Capybara Movie blasted from Yato's speaker, making his head spin.

"Hey! This cutie's letting us out!" His female neighbor squealed in joy, gathering the attention of others who've been ignoring the newcomer's panic.

"If we don't get fixed, we don't have to work!" A voice cheered.

"I don't want to get torn apart!" Another agreed.

The panel short-circuited and the wall to his bed glitched out. Yato tumbled out into the hall and scrambled to his feet. He dashed down the hall, happy jingles bouncing off the walls, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Hiyori still sat without a hand when Yato burst through the glass wall. The human doctors shrieked and one of the nurses dropped the handgun he was holding.

"Yato? What are you doing!" Hiyori shouted over his music. She reached out with her other hand, the other one un-gloved and pistol less. Completely fine. One of the doctors lunged for him and Yato swerved out of reach and scooped the gun off the floor. His whole body was trembling, but stilled when his hands were secured around a weapon.

"Yato, don't! Masaomi, grab it!" Hiyori commanded to a young doctor next to her. Masaomi inched closer to the cyborg with awe, asking a bunch of questions along with the ruckus. The Wall-E was too distracted by the giant whirling mechanism that hung from the ceiling. It looked like a mechanical spider with each of of it's arms equipped with some sharp metal tool.

Yato leaped out of his skin when the doctor wrapped his hand around the gun. The two men wrestled for a second when the gun fired, it's blast going through the Yato-shaped hole in the glass. Everyone's eyes followed the blue ball of fire as it flew down the hall and hit a small black square on the entrance wall.

The control panel glitched and all was quiet for a moment. Then, one by one the blue walls holding the patients fell out of existence. Yato looked back at the doctor who huffed out an unironic laugh, then at Hiyori who face spelled murder. The gun was dropped and Yato put his hands up and backed way slowly.

"N-Now Hiyori. We talked about this. It was an accident." Yato tried to passify the Eve as she stepped off the table and slipped her glove back on. Her eyes narrowed as she tugged it down tight. Masaomi looked back at Yato with the same color eyes. Yato noticed his lab coat had the name 'Iki' stitched on the front pocket.

"You better start running, pal." Masaomi Iki said. But that was unnecessary. At some point, Yato's neighbor had come to the back along with a handful of others.

"Hey buddy! You did it! The walls are down, let's get out!" The Wall-H cheered. Yato wasn't given time to formulate a response before the mob of freed cyborgs swept him off his feet.

"Yato!" Hiyori shouted. Yato shrugged with a sheepish smile as he was carried off. Hiyori's voice was drowned out as the Wall-E was paraded down the hall and out of the medical center. Yato fumbled his iPod to turn off the peppy music while Hiyori ran after him. Yukine, who was dozing off on the transport, leaped to his feet in surprise.

"What the-? You idiot! What did you get yourself into?" Yukine said, stepping out of the way of the mob. Yato couldn't help but laugh at how absurd this was, that is until someone triggered the alarm.

"Grab him!" Yato pointed at the Mo as he was carried by. Yukine tried to escape but Yato's neighbor got to him first, scooping up the tiny teen with ease.

"Yukine! Yato!" Hiyori was close behind as the pack of wild cyborgs made its way down the hall. All of traffic was disrupted as cyborgs workers threw themselves out of the way and off of transports as the escapees charged down the hall.

"Hiyori! Please save me!" Yukine tried to roll out of the crowd's hands. But suddenly, the crowd stopped short and was silent. Yato was suddenly tossed off the pack of cyborgs, in front.

"Oof! Hey what's the big idea, guys?" Yato trailed off when he saw the scared and cautious looks of the escapees. The Wall-E looked up and saw a wall of black and red. Hiyori slowed when she caught up, slightly out of breath. Yukine now stood on his tip-toes, trying to see over the crowd

"Yukine, what's happening?" Hiyori asked. Yukine glanced at her, then continued trying to see over shoulders.

"I don't know, they just stopped and threw Yato towards the front. Maybe they finally got tired of being covered in dust."

"Halt. Everyone here is under arrest for questioning and or containment." An authoritative voice spoke crystal clear. The man wore the same uniform as the rest of the Secur-T. He seemed to have become a cyborg around Yato's age. He had dark clean cut brown hair with  green eyes behind glasses. When those eyes met Yato's he quirked a brow, his glasses had streams of light dance across them, giving him whatever information he asked for.

"You're- You're a-" his brows shot up to his hair line as he read the tiny words on the glass one more time.

"What is it? What's the hold up, Kazuma?" Another voice made itself known. Strong, commanding, smooth, and feminine. The Secur-Ts parted to make way for a tall woman wearing the same uniform with a matching trench coat and military beret. Her name was written in a blaring white labeling the blonde woman, Bishamon. She made her way to the very front and stopped with her shined boots itches from Yato's fingers. Her light eyes gazed down at the Wall-E with fierce appalling.

"Kazuma? What am I looking at?" Bishamon asked without looking away from the man on the floor. The bifocaled Secur-T rushed to the woman's side and frantically whispered in her ear, her eyes widening at whatever he said. Behind Yato, the escaped cyborgs also parted to let a pushy Hiyori through followed by Yukine.

"Lieutenant General Bishamon!" Hiyori gasped. Yukine sucked air between his teeth while Yato used one of his learned curse words. Bishamon look at the three, then at the rest of the group.

"You will all be apprehended. Do not resist." Bishamon spoke with authority. Hiyori stepped forward and held up her hands, one still in the gun.

"Please, Lieutenant General, I am an Eve that has returned positive-"

"I am sorry Eve, but I am under strict orders to apprehend you and this," she gestured with a wrinkled nose to Yato, "thing. Come quietly."

"Orders?" Yukine echoed. Yato couldn't agree more. He narrowed his eyes at the towering Secur-T, knowing exactly who's orders she was following. This woman was their enemy. Yato jumped to his feet with an equally fiery expression.

"Oh no you don't!" Yato put a hand on his compactor, pausing only to glance at Yukine in surprise when the kid came to stand next to him with his roller. The woman narrowed her eyes and set her feet shoulder with the part.

"If you don't come quietly, we will make you. All units, ready your borders! Kazuma, send out a warning." Bishamon moved her coat out of the way to reveal a cane sword, getting into a battle stance. The other Secur-Ts let out a collective 'yes ma'am' folded their arms behind their backs. The gold buttons on their red shoulder marks clipped open and a red dot started to glow. Kazuma faced the three of them and touched the side of his glasses. A shutter sound was heard.

"Caution: Rouge Workers," was announced though the speakers by a robotic voice. The very ship seemed to vibrate with the message as it repeated five times. Bishamon and her Secur-Ts started to advance in a line.

"Yukine, hang on!" Hiyori shouted. Yukine could just barley grab her arm as her flight boots activated and she shot forward. Before Yato could even blink, he was flying through the air bridal style, Yukine waving around Hiyori like a cape. Behind them, shouts were heard as some of the cyborgs were captured while others fought through the line of police force.  

The trio flew overhead, Hiyori seemed to know which turns to make as more Secur-Ts appeared out of nowhere. Glowing hallow graphic signs were red with caution as they showed the picture Kazuma took of the three of them. Their faces stared back at them every couple feet, surrounding the four-way Hiyori dropped them in. She landed heavily beside them, huffing that she couldn't carry so much weight. Transports stopped as cyborgs gasped and whispered among each other each other, looking between the warning and the group in the center. Hiyori spun around with a distressed look before whipping around to yell at the Wall-E.

"Yato! There was no reason to freak out like that!" She threw her arms open and the boys shrunk back. Not even Yukine tried to correct her, choosing simply to hide behind Yato. Hiyori heaved in quick breaths, but she didn't look tired. No, she looked upset, her eyes were starting to get wet with pink around the sides. The Wall-E stood straighter, face morphing into one more stern. He reached back and grabbed Yukine's wrist then wrapped his fingers around the Eve's hand dragging them behind as he took them down the hall.

"In there!" Yukine took the lead and pulled the two to a door labeled 'Cleaner's Closet'. They stopped only for Yukine to put his hand on a black glass panel. His hand was outlined in green and scanned, then the door opened. The Mo shoved them inside, pushing the button for the door to slid shut behind them. They listened for the organized boots of the Secur-T to run by, followed by the trampling of the escaped cyborgs.

The two cyborgs had their backs against the wall, Yukine sliding down the door with his eyes closed. Yato stood off to the right, his hand was still occupied with a slender white-gloved one. Hiyori panted against him, her forehead resting lightly against his collarbone. When she looked up, she saw Yato's intense eyes, dark with several emotions. Hiyori's lips parted to let out one last puff, the rest of her not moving. This confused Yato, who quirked an eyebrow and squeezed their hands trapped between them.

"Oh! Uh," Hiyori stepped back and Yato let her hand slip away, "Sorry." They didn't turn away from each other, but they couldn't look each other either. Yukine, who opened his eyes and sat up at the sound of the awkward coughing and burning faces, looked between them.

"Can we stop the awkward tension and figure a way out of here? All that first sergeant has to do is ask his glasses to show the security cam." Yukine informed. Hiyori made a noise and began to pace, her hand coming to her chin. Yukine stood up next to Yato, who was glancing around the room, his sensors useless on foreign ground. Thier attention was stolen back by the Eve, who perked up and ran to the window. Her head turned left and right then she spotted something below.

"There." her finger touched the glass. She moved so the two cyborgs to see where she was pointing.

"The individual ships?" Yukine looked back at Hiyori in question.

"How will that help us find the plant?" Yato asked. Hiyori didn't answer for a moment, her head down.

"It won't. I just, have and idea."

"But-"

"-Let's go. We need to hurry." Hiyori didn't wait to hear the Wall-E's protests. She spun on her toes and made her way to the door, back straight, head held high. Yukine followed after her, looked back at Yato for an explanation. The older cleaner didn't have one, instead he pressed his lips in a tight line and followed after them. He put his back to the wall again, Yukine next to him. He nodded to Hiyori on the other side. She nodded back and opened the door.

The hall had an occasional transport, but was otherwise Secur-T free. The young woman stepped out first, no one sparing the Eve a glance, before she gestured for the two to follow. Hiyori lead them to down the hall, to the left, then to a public service elevator. They were quiet once they were inside, Hiyori especially so. Yukine crept forward and touched her arm.

"Hiyori?" He let go quickly when she looked at him, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Hiyori looked behind him at Yato, who gave her a comforting smile, "Uh, yeah." Her eyes fluttered to the floor, then back to the door. The awkward silence was sharply interrupted by the sound of magnetic decelerator slowing down the elevator.

"Wha-What's happening?" Yukine shouted in alarm when the lights flickered. The elevator came to a halt and the lights dimmed. Above the door, a hallow-screen turned on with the picture taken by the Secur-T. The picture glitched out to show the red eyes of the Auto Pilot.

"Please forgive the interruption, passengers. Thanks to our capable Secur-T you have been shown an image of disobedient cyborgs. I regret to inform you these rouge workers are still on the run, but fear not! Our very own Lieutenant General Bishamon is on the case." Kouto threw his arms open with a pleasant, charming smile. He then leaned back on clean table with hands folded together.

"I have a word of caution for our passengers and workers. Among these rebels, there is an alien cyborg, a Wall-E, one of the Earth cleaners. We have reason to believe this cyborg is dangerous and can pose a threat to the safety of everyone on board." The polite smile never left his face as his voice held no note of worry.

"Yato? What?" Hiyori turned to look at Yato, her face as if these words were coming out of his mouth, rather than the intercom. Yato, on the other hand, stared at the screen with a dark expression.

"Unfortunately, there was a problem with the Wall-Es back on Earth. A virus that messed with the connection between what was man and what was machine. This coding error was seen to cause fits of homicidal rage, and as a result most of the Wall-Es shut down each other permanently." A pause. The air in the elevator went still and heavy.

"If this Wall-E is seen, we ask that you report his whereabouts immediately," Kouto leaned in, the reds of his eyes aglow, "This is a matter of great importance concerning our Heaven."

"It's not true," Hiyori took a careful step towards Yato, her outstretched hand and voice shaking, "Tell me that's not true, Yato."

"But please! Don't worry too much! This matter will be resolved without a single issue and we will go on in luxury as normal," The auto pilot leaned back and kicked his feet up on the dash, "That will be all ladies and gentlemen, have a happy, carefree day here on Heaven's Sun!" The screen cut out and the elevator started up again after a couple moments. Yato remained rooted in place but kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Yato?" Yukine asked, "What is he talking about? Fits of rage?" Hiyori couldn't believe it. She didn't want too. She had spent a little over two months with this cyborg tailing her. Looking back, Hiyori had said hurtful things, gave him the cold shoulder without even thinking as to why there weren't any others. Her training had discussed the virus before she went to Earth, but she was told they were all dead and the danger was wiped out. And besides, Yato was nothing but kind and goofy. His smile just as genuine and carefree as Heaven's passengers.

"He's just trying to get Yato captured," Yukine insisted, "I'm sure-"

"It's true." Yato interrupted. Voice clipped and toneless. The two  looked at him, faces stuck in disbelief and terror. The elevator doors opened to an empty hall way, Yato brushed past them and stepped out, looking back at them with a blank face.

"Are you coming? You got a plan, right?" Yato asked, tilting his head. Hiyori took a moment to steel herself then nodded and followed him out. Yukine did too, eyes to the floor.

"We should hurry, the security cams might recognize our faces if we don't move fast." Hiyori said, picking up the pace. The boys nodded and took off running after her. The halls empty for the most part, only their footfalls and heaving breaths echoed off the pristine walls. After a moment, Yukine spoke from Yato's left.

"It doesn't matter anyway." He declared almost to himself. Yato looked at the kid with a shocked look.

"It was a long time ago." Hiyori tacked on after a couple breaths. Yato looked ahead at her too, his inhale sputtered and he let out a sharp exhale, but said nothing.

Hiyori turned right down a hall and slowed down. This hall was more grey and black like the dock of the Eve Transport, however the doors were much smaller. Their circular entrances would really only let one or two people in at a time. Hiyori clicked a button next to the first door, causeing it to slide open, then walked in first. Yato followed her, then Yukine who shut the door and flicked on the lights. Most of the back wall was the individual shuttle, a fishbowl looking thing with one window in the front and back. Lining the side walls were what looked to be astronaut gear and tanks. A little right to the center, sat a control pad with glowing buttons big and small. Hiyori walked up to it and started typing.

"So," Yukine held out the 'o' as he nervously jammed his hands in his pockets, "what is the plan?" He then ran over to help Yato pull off the space helmet.

"Yeah, Hiyori," Yato's voice echoed inside, "what's the plan?" The Wall-E sounded much happier, even as the Mo cursed and tried to figure out what button he pressed. Hiyori looked at Yato, her expression difficult to place.

"Just, give me a moment." Hiyori glanced up at the screen as it tried processing whatever she was typing. The space shuttle turned on, it's interior lighting up and the room started whirling. A deep pop echoed as the helmet was yanked off Yato's head thanks to both the cyborgs' efforts. When they walked over, Hiyori opened the shuttle's door.

"Path of destination confirmed: Earth." The dash informed the room. Yato and Yukine stood next to Hiyori and looked up at the screen. A large cartoonish picture of a green and blue Earth showed next to some stats and travel guides.

"Earth?" Yukine seemed to perk up, "We're going to Earth?" He sounded almost excited. Yato perked up a bit too. He wasn't in a rush to get back home, but it would surely be more fun having these too around.

"That's a great idea! We could find another plant to replace the lost one! Oh Yukine, you're gonna love it there! I'll show you around, introduce you to Nora." Yato threw his arm around the kid and walked to the tiny spaceship. Yukine stepped in first, pretending he wasn't carefully listening to the Wall-E's Earth ramblings. Once Yato ensured Yukine was safely buckled in, he turned to do the same to Hiyori. His talking trailed off when he noticed Hiyori stayed rooted in place with a pained expression.

"Hiyori?" Yato tried, tilting his head. Yukine leaned forward in his seat to try to catch her expression.

"What's wrong? You're coming right?" Yukine asked. The Eve took a deep breath and looked Yato squarely in the eye. Her voice, holding the same superior authority it did when she kept everything classified.

"You're going to Earth. I'm staying here to find the plant."

[auberghyn]

Elysian Fields

Rating: M (T for now, but there will be eventual smut) Pair: KakaSaku

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Worldbuilding, Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Dram, Travelling, Humor, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Wizard!Kakashi, Biker!Sakura, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Inspired by MMORPG Ragnarok Online

Quick SpeedPaint/Photo Manip by me

Chapter 1: Sawbones

A healer's duty goes beyond improving abrasions and maladies. Besides your everyday affliction ranging in severity, a healer is also responsible for the safety and well-being of their comrades. So when Sakura was asked to take over for her grandmother as field surgeon, it was an honour she hoped to fulfill.

Sakura expected long travels to the neighbouring city of Taki, where the surgical headquarters was located. She figured if transportation was too vexing, she would have to move to make work within easy reach. The Haruno Matriarch owned an old mint-green Konoha Roadmaster motorcycle that she had refurbished and given to Sakura as a parting gift. Although the automotive vehicle came with a few tiny scrapes that resembled claw marks on the rear fender, Sakura didn’t mind them. Rather, she appreciated the stories the remnants held. The scuffs piqued her interest. She would have loved nothing more than to hear each one's story, but her grandmother always answered the same way: a chuckle and "It's best to find out for yourself, my child"

Huffing in slight disappointment, Sakura deduced that they were probably from wild cats lurking in the deep forests of Taki. Whether she was right or wrong with her assumption, it temporarily sated her growing curiosity. With the inherited motorbike in her possession, at least transportation was doable now. As Sakura sped through the almost empty highway’s bike lane, with the moving truck a safe distance ahead of her, she recalled her overprotective mother, Mebuki, nagging the moving crew’s ears off to give her daughter enough space to travel and avoid any accidents. Before they set off northbound, she gave the men a hundred bucks as an apology. She had all the crucial necessities packed, including the wolf plushie from her childhood she had snugly tucked inside her bike’s compartment. All she had to do now was get there. Adrenaline coursed through Sakura’s veins at the thought of starting her career. However, if she were completely honest with herself, she was scared. Delighted to the core, yes…but she had doubts lurking in the back of her mind: the question “Will I ever be good enough?” plagued her constantly, especially after the wrongs that she worked so hard to right. There came a point where she had gotten involved with the wrong crowd during her adolescence. As she and her family constantly moved from town to town, it was difficult for her to find her place. Sakura was sure she never would have gotten out of that rut without her grandmother’s intervention. Sakura knew very well what the older woman was capable of, her fury infamous and threatening. But at Sakura’s most vulnerable, she’d sat her down and spoken to her in a manner that Sakura would never forget. The older woman, in her utmost sincerity, had instilled the Will of Fire in Sakura: To follow than to control. To listen to others who have been shunned. To keep her head high despite of adversity. And to keep standing tall despite losing ground. Sakura didn’t quite understand them back then. Like majority of the teenage populace, she only cared about technology, love interests, mind-numbing television, and junk food. It took her years to make her realize its significance and for her efforts to finally come to fruition. At the day of Sakura’s academy convocation, her grandmother, a typically stern woman, had been brought to tears. She’d pulled Sakura into a bone crushing hug, sobbing against her granddaughter’s dark green gown, telling her how proud she was that Sakura had come so far. Sakura remembered her saying, “The will of fire is strong, it runs deep. It’s a reminder that, despite our mistakes, we can draw our inner power, and that’s when we bloom. To serve a purpose and evolve into who we truly are, and that’s what matters”

A smile slowly tugged at her lips as warmth began to unfurl within. The travelling winds might have been chilly, but the memories gave her comfort on her long journey.

 —♦—

Once they arrived, the movers immediately set to work, helping her unload some furniture, boxes and bins of clothing, kitchenware—basically everything she needed as a starter, according to her doting mother. She poured them tea and helped with the other objects. It wasn’t long before the last box into the house.

Once she’d paid them, Sakura retreated to her new apartment to get ready for bed. Though the clock only struck seven time and the sun was still high in the sky, it had been a long day. She decided it was best to take a step back and relax before starting her new job tomorrow. That night, she slept blissfully like she hadn’t slept in years. Tomorrow for sure, there would be a tonne of adventure awaiting her, and she was ready to face it head on.

 —♦—

“Just keep going straight. It’s gonna take a while, but you’ll get there” Sakura had awoken that morning filled with purpose. She’d pre-packed her bag before she’d even moved in so the only thing she had to do was take a shower, put her uniform on, and ride to the headquarters. But there was one problem: Although she admitted she may have overslept a tad more than expected—which was a little disgraceful on her first day—the receptionist had informed her to head to the nearby headquarters where the group was currently settled, which would take no longer than a ten minute commute. The woodlands she was encroaching on eased her mind from her tardiness. As she raced along, she took in Mother Nature’s beauty. She thought Konoha, with all ts vast forested land, was beautiful, yet it was almost outmatched by the otherworldly backdrop of Taki, with its lush greens and azure waters. Completely lost in thought, it only took her a split second to realize a whirling blue light appear in front of her. She felt the air shift as she passed through the portal, to which she noted, felt like melting meringue, warm and glutinous. But there was nothing sweet about the way her bike bounced against the uneven terrain, catching her off guard and rattling her whole being. When she regained focus, Sakura was utterly speechless, blinking quite a few times in disbelief. Before her was a canyon so vast it dwarfed Iwa’s Great Gorge of the West. Sakura thought that she was dreaming, there was simply no way that she had been coursing through the woodlands a moment ago. Now she found herself speeding on what seemed like a suspended narrow bridge that stretched for miles. Up ahead was a slight curve to the path, and with Sakura too dumbstruck in the moment, she accidentally skidded off to hurtle down the canyon. She figured she’d wake up any second now, still in utter disbelief that all of this was real. She was probably having one of those dreams where she thought she was late for a very important event that day and would wake up an hour or two than originally planned, but as seconds passed and she starts noticing her descent coming to an end she began to panic. Sakura had a moment to herself, where she criticized her life choices down to the smallest of details. She’d also started to wonder when everything went downhill. Was the deliverance she received a figment of her imagination as she lay wasting away in a former friend’s bedroom? Had she hallucinated all the events that had happened in her life: leaving her childhood friend behind to move to a different city, her grandmother’s intervention, her turning her life around and graduating with the highest honours in the academy? Sakura felt despair mixed with delirium like a rancid cocktail. If she was going to phase out from this kaleidoscopic nightmare, would she be back in Samui’s place wasted, filled with no purpose and re-live her stupidity. If she was indeed hurtling downwards harsh jagged rocks raised like swords of judgment, then so be it. “At least I have lived a good life… I think” she whispered to herself, the air whistling through her garments. Within seconds she would be just a pretty stain on the ground, her Indian Roadmaster bike would be somewhere a few feet away from her body in the same mangled state. She accepted death, yet as darkness loomed over, the wind shift as if something had snatched her in mid-air. When she came to, she was sitting on a padded basket-woven armchair, a plush throw pillow sitting on her lap, and what seemed like a fox-owl hybrid curled under her feet. “Kami, what was she thinking sending her granddaughter off without an escort? Does she want her to die?” “Nah, that’s unlike Tsunade. We found a mine under the bridge near the exit. Neji and I had to disarm it before it causes any unwanted damage. Everything was fine but you had to be a GIANT bag of dicks and pushed her off” “I didn’t push her on purpose! I noticed a trap the second before she ran over it so I had to do something!” “You could’ve just grabbed her, Kiba!” a crack of a whip and a man yelping in pain finally jostled Sakura out of her daze and looked around to see three people in various states of undress. “Are you okay? You’re Sakura, right?” she turned to look at the woman crouched beside her, “I’m Tenten” she said, placing a hand to her chest. She then shifted in her place to point and introduce the other two in the room. Neji, who Sakura presumed hadn’t spoken a single word, stood in an imposing manner, his long brown hair gently framed his steely gaze, his pale pupil-less eyes unnerved her. Sakura took notice of the peculiar flesh-coloured mark on his forehead, wondering if that was a birthmark but it was highly unlikely due to the symmetrical pattern splayed across his skin. Green eyes then focused on Kiba who decided that he wasn’t interested in the commotion anymore. His messy dark brown hair swayed as he plopped on the couch. Sakura could have sworn she saw sharp fangs peek through his slightly parted lips as he grumbled, nursing the red gash across his chest, probably from Tenten giving him a good lashing for pushing her off the ledge. I mean, he deserved it. I could have died, you know? As she was about to speak, her eyes flickered towards a sudden movement in her peripheral vision and caught site of a tall man wearing nothing but navy-coloured breeches. The plains of his stomach where a wondrous map of lean muscle despite the numerous scars and bumps probably from the battles he had partaken in his lifetime. Her eyes traveled upwards to see amusement in mismatched eyes. Her cheeks began to pink as she realized she was gawking. Sakura heard shuffling from behind her and three voices greeting the man in unison. “Captain” Sakura’s gaze darted between the three and the stranger. The man sauntered towards them from the hallway, the sway of his hips precise and nimble. There was something about his gait that caught her attention, it reminded her too much of the wolf documentaries she loved to watch as a kid, how those predatory animals would prowl, the air around them absolute.

Sakura sensed the change of ambience and tried to displace the blame for rapid heart rate to the previous incident. Try as she might, her cheeks pinked before his presence, and she knew it would be unwise to wear her emotions so freely, especially when she was face to face with authority.

Regaining her composure, she finally stood and bowed as she greeted in respect, it was the only way to remind her of their differing status.

But the man chuckled, however, and she would have snarled had it not for the fact that her voice trembled mid-speech.

“At ease, Miss Sakura. I see you finally decided to join us” he teased, drawing his hands behind his back as he watched her lips curl slightly upwards with a grimace. She admitted her fault in hopes of being forgiven, but his steely gaze chilled her, “Just to let you know, we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here” there was a snort immediately followed by a weak yelp emitted by one of the three people behind her, Sakura was tempted to take a look but the captain had thrown her off guard by his question. “Do you even know what Tsunade’s role was before she left?” he asked, brow arching. She would have scoffed, however there was a certain truth to his words. What was Tsunade’s role? Pursing her lips and loathing the way he assumed she didn’t have a single damn clue, to which to some extent he had a point, but she stood her ground nonetheless. She huffed with her chest out and answered. “Yes, she was a highly skilled field surgeon—“ “Field surgeon,” he cut her off, eyes squinting and lips forming a thin line at the word as if it tasted odd just by saying it, “Here in Elysium, we call them Sawbones” “Sawbones?” Sakura asked, feeling a hint of regret for the short pause she took. She would have asked about Elysium as well but it would only confirm his belief of her naivety. He eyed her with deep intent before taking a stride towards the high ceiling window that she was sure wasn’t there a moment ago. He folded his hands behind his back and looked on, the glass slowly clearing, and Sakura’s breathe caught in her throat. “As you can obviously see, this isn’t the human world” he deadpanned without so much as a glance her way. It took her moments before the air grew dry around them, followed by pinpricking sensation against her skin. She looked down on her arms and could almost see tiny hairs standing on end. Confused and unnerved, she glanced at the three people behind her who seemed unaffected by the current in the air. When she looked back did she knew what, or rather who was causing it. When Sakura thought she was dreaming awhile ago only to be deduced by the rapid descent and the alarming knowledge that she was going to die, watching the silver-haired captain emit purple lightning coursing through his body is what convinced her that she was indeed back at her new apartment, still curled up in a ball and nuzzling against her wolf plush. There was just no way all of this was real. Soon, Sakura felt the need to sit down and alleviate the overwhelming urge to pass out. Authority be damned, she needed to rest. But her body betrayed her, and she crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap. The four figures stood in silence, the current slowly faded away. “I think you overdid the introduction there, Kakashi” Tenten scolded, the utter disappointment evident in her tone. Kiba doubled over, roaring in the background. Neji rolled his eyes, obviously fed up with playing along, but he would be lying if he denied the fact that it was anything but funny, “I can’t believe she didn’t know what Tsunade does” Kakashi, knelt in front of Sakura to scoop her in his arms, chuckling as he want to set her on the warm daybed by the window. “I can’t believe Tsunade didn’t brief her on the situation at hand” Kakashi said, a huffing in amusement. “You know Tsunade, she can be pretty secretive. Still, you didn’t have to go overboard with being a complete douchecanoe. If Tsunade finds out about this, she's going to ram your wand through your skull” Kakashi let out a hearty laugh at Tenten’s flowery quips. “Maa, maa, Tenten you don’t have to be like that, I’m your captain” “True, you are the captain, but I’d also like to think its because of you being captain that Tsunade retired early” Suddenly the atmosphere grew a little grim, Kiba immediately stood to excuse himself, with Neji following close behind. It was too late for Tenten to retract her statement, what meant as a lighthearted quip somehow struck a nerve in Kakashi but he kept calm despite the steely glint in his gaze. “I’m sorry, I went too far—“ Kakashi lifted a hand to stop her, “That’s alright. Anyway, we have he rest of the day to ourselves, see to it that you enjoy your afternoon. I’ll wait till she wakes up” “Certainly, captain” Tenten left the room in haste, leaving Kakashi with Sakura. He lifted his hand slightly above his hips and languidly pushed downwards an inch to grasp the backrest of the chair that he just conjured up with the gesture. He settled down then pulled a book and reading glasses out of thin air. It wouldn’t do all of them good if he was on edge for the meeting once Sakura wakes up from her fatigue. Flipping to the page he last read, he began to read the passages.

[jeremyinchrist]

“Who is like the wise man? And who knows the interpretation of a matter? A man’s wisdom illumines his face, And causes his stern face to beam. I counsel you to keep the command of the king because of the oath before God [by which you swore loyalty to him]. Do not be in a hurry to get out of his presence. Do not join in a malevolent matter, for the king will do whatever he pleases. For the word of a king is authoritative and powerful, And who will say to him, “What are you doing?” Whoever keeps and observes a royal command will experience neither trouble nor misery; For a wise heart will know the proper time and [appropriate] procedure. For there is a proper time and [appropriate] procedure for every delight, Though mankind’s misery and trouble lies heavily upon him [who rebels against the king]. For no one knows what will happen; So who can tell him how and when it will happen? There is no man who has power and authority over the wind to restrain the wind, Nor does he have authority over the day of death; There is no discharge [from service] during time of war, And evil will not rescue those who [actively seek to] practice it. All this I have seen while applying my mind to every deed that is done under the sun. There is a time in which one man has exercised power over others to their detriment. So then, I have seen the wicked buried, those who used to go in and out of the holy place [but did not thereby escape their doom], and they are [praised in spite of their evil and] soon forgotten in the city where they did such things. This too is futility (vanity, emptiness). Because the sentence against an evil act is not executed quickly, the hearts of the sons of men are fully set to do evil. Though a sinner does evil a hundred times and his life [seemingly] is prolonged [in spite of his wickedness], still I know that it will be well with those who [reverently] fear God, who fear and worship Him openly [realizing His omnipresence and His power]. But it will not be well for the evil man, nor will he lengthen his days like a shadow, because he does not fear God. There is a meaningless and futile thing which is done on the earth: that is, there are righteous men whose gain is as though they were evil, and evil men whose gain is as though they were righteous. I say that this too is futility (meaningless, vain). Then I commended pleasure and enjoyment, because a man [without God] has no better thing under the sun than to eat and to drink and to be merry, for this will stand by him in his toil through the days of his life which God has given him under the sun. When I applied my mind to know wisdom and to see the activities [of mankind] that take place upon the earth—how some men seem to sleep neither day nor night— and I saw all the work of God, I concluded that man cannot discover the work that is done under the sun. Even though man may labor in seeking, he will not discover; and [more than that], though a wise man thinks and claims he knows, he will not be able to find it out.”

‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭8:1-17‬ ‭AMP‬‬

[dfroza]

Paul wrote Letters to get his heart across

as he pointed to the True illumination of the Son. and he also wrote for instruction, and correction as well. which is what the Scriptures do. they reveal grace and they correct our behavior, when we are willing to change. to be open to choose so. to be humble. to choose patience, and kindness. to forgive. to love.

Today’s chapter of the New Testament is from the Letter of 2nd Corinthians with chapter 10

[Paul’s Defense of His Ministry]

Now, please listen, for I need to address an issue. I’m making this personal appeal to you by the gentleness and self-forgetfulness of Christ. I am the one who is “humble and timid” when face-to-face with you but “bold and outspoken” when a safe distance away. Now I plead with you that when I come, don’t force me to take a hard line with you (which I’m willing to do) by daring to confront those who mistakenly believe that we are living by the standards of the world, not by the Spirit’s wisdom and power. For although we live in the natural realm, we don’t wage a military campaign employing human weapons, using manipulation to achieve our aims. Instead, our spiritual weapons are energized with divine power to effectively dismantle the defenses behind which people hide. We can demolish every deceptive fantasy that opposes God and break through every arrogant attitude that is raised up in defiance of the true knowledge of God. We capture, like prisoners of war, every thought and insist that it bow in obedience to the Anointed One. Since we are armed with such dynamic weaponry, we stand ready to punish any trace of rebellion, as soon as you choose complete obedience.

[Paul Responds to Criticism]

You seem to always be looking at people by their outward appearances. If someone is confident that he belongs to Christ, he should remind himself of this: we belong to Christ no less than he does. I am not ashamed, even if I’ve come across as one who has overstated the authority given to us by the Lord. For it is the authority to help build you up, not tear you down. I don’t want to seem as though I’m trying to bully you with my letters. For I can imagine some of you saying, “His letters are authoritative and stern, but when he’s with us he’s not that impressive and he’s a poor speaker.” Such a person should realize that when we arrive, there will be no difference in the actions we take and the words we write.

Of course, we wouldn’t dare to put ourselves in the same class or compare ourselves with those who rate themselves so highly. They compare themselves to one another and make up their own standards to measure themselves by, and then they judge themselves by their own standards. What self-delusion! But we are those who choose to limit our boasting to only the measure of the work to which God has appointed us—a measure that, by the way, has reached as far as you. And since you are within our assigned limits, we didn’t overstep our boundaries of authority by being the first to announce to you the wonderful news of the Anointed One. We’re not trying to take credit for the ministry done by others, going beyond the limits God set for us. Instead, our hope soars as your faith continues to grow, causing a great expansion of our ministry among you. Then we can go and preach the good news in the regions beyond you without trespassing on the ministry sphere of other laborers and what they have already done. For:

The one who boasts must boast in the Lord.

So let’s be clear. To have the Lord’s approval and commendation is of greater value than bragging about oneself.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 10 (The Passion Translation)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is chapter 8 of First Kings that describes the dedication of the Temple in Jerusalem by King Solomon:

Bringing all this to a climax, King Solomon called in the leaders of Israel, all the heads of the tribes and the family patriarchs, to bring up the Chest of the Covenant of God from Zion, the City of David. And they came, all Israel before King Solomon in the month of Ethanim, the seventh month, for the great autumn festival.

With all Israel’s leaders present, the priests took up the Chest of God and carried up the Chest and the Tent of Meeting and all the holy vessels that went with the Tent. King Solomon and the entire congregation of Israel were there at the Chest worshiping and sacrificing huge numbers of sheep and cattle—so many that no one could keep track.

Then the priests brought the Chest of the Covenant of God to its place in the Inner Sanctuary, the Holy of Holies, under the wings of the cherubim. The outspread wings of the cherubim stretched over the Chest and its poles. The poles were so long that their ends could be seen from the entrance to the Inner Sanctuary, but were not noticeable farther out. They’re still there today. There was nothing in the Chest but the two stone tablets that Moses had placed in it at Horeb where God made a covenant with Israel after bringing them up from Egypt.

[The Temple Finished, Dedicated, Filled]

When the priests left the Holy Place, a cloud filled The Temple of God. The priests couldn’t carry out their priestly duties because of the cloud—the glory of God filled The Temple of God!

Then Solomon spoke:

God has told us that he lives in the dark

where no one can see him;

I’ve built this splendid Temple, O God,

to mark your invisible presence forever.

The king then turned to face the congregation and blessed them:

“Blessed be God, the God of Israel, who spoke personally to my father David. Now he has kept the promise he made when he said, ‘From the day I brought my people Israel from Egypt, I haven’t set apart one city among the tribes of Israel to build a Temple to fix my Name there. But I did choose David to rule my people Israel.’

“My father David had it in his heart to build a Temple honoring the Name of God, the God of Israel. But God told him ‘It was good that you wanted to build a Temple in my honor—most commendable! But you are not the one to do it—your son will build it to honor my Name.’

“God has done what he said he would do: I have succeeded David my father and ruled over Israel just as God promised; and now I’ve built a Temple to honor God, the God of Israel, and I’ve secured a place for the Chest that holds the covenant of God, the covenant that he made with our ancestors when he brought them up from the land of Egypt.”

Before the entire congregation of Israel, Solomon took a position before the Altar, spread his hands out before heaven, and prayed,

O God, God of Israel, there is no God like you in the skies above or on the earth below who unswervingly keeps covenant with his servants and relentlessly loves them as they sincerely live in obedience to your way. You kept your word to David my father, your personal word. You did exactly what you promised—every detail. The proof is before us today!

Keep it up, God, O God of Israel! Continue to keep the promises you made to David my father when you said, “You’ll always have a descendant to represent my rule on Israel’s throne, on the condition that your sons are as careful to live obediently in my presence as you have.”

O God of Israel, let this all happen;

confirm and establish it!

Can it be that God will actually move into our neighborhood? Why, the cosmos itself isn’t large enough to give you breathing room, let alone this Temple I’ve built. Even so, I’m bold to ask: Pay attention to these my prayers, both intercessory and personal, O God, my God. Listen to my prayers, energetic and devout, that I’m setting before you right now. Keep your eyes open to this Temple night and day, this place of which you said, “My Name will be honored there,” and listen to the prayers that I pray at this place.

Listen from your home in heaven and when you hear, forgive.

When someone hurts a neighbor and promises to make things right, and then comes and repeats the promise before your Altar in this Temple, listen from heaven and act accordingly: Judge your servants, making the offender pay for his offense and setting the offended free of any charges.

When your people Israel are beaten by an enemy because they’ve sinned against you, but then turn to you and acknowledge your rule in prayers desperate and devout in this Temple,

Listen from your home in heaven, forgive the sin of your people Israel, return them to the land you gave their ancestors.

When the skies shrivel up and there is no rain because your people have sinned against you, but then they pray at this place, acknowledging your rule and quitting their sins because you have scourged them,

Listen from your home in heaven, forgive the sins of your servants, your people Israel.

Then start over with them: Train them to live right and well; send rain on the land you gave your people as an inheritance.

When disasters strike, famine or catastrophe, crop failure or disease, locust or beetle, or when an enemy attacks their defenses—calamity of any sort—any prayer that’s prayed from anyone at all among your people Israel, hearts penetrated by the disaster, hands and arms thrown out to this Temple for help,

Listen from your home in heaven.

Forgive and go to work on us. Give what each deserves, for you know each life from the inside (you’re the only one with such “inside knowledge”!) so that they’ll live before you in lifelong reverent and believing obedience on this land you gave our ancestors.

And don’t forget the foreigner who is not a member of your people Israel but has come from a far country because of your reputation. People are going to be attracted here by your great reputation, your wonder-working power, who come to pray at this Temple.

Listen from your home in heaven.

Honor the prayers of the foreigner so that people all over the world will know who you are and what you’re like and will live in reverent obedience before you, just as your own people Israel do; so they’ll know that you personally make this Temple that I’ve built what it is.

When your people go to war against their enemies at the time and place you send them and they pray to God toward the city you chose and this Temple I’ve built to honor your Name,

Listen from heaven to what they pray and ask for,

and do what’s right for them.

When they sin against you—and they certainly will; there’s no one without sin!—and in anger you turn them over to the enemy and they are taken captive to the enemy’s land, whether far or near, but repent in the country of their captivity and pray with changed hearts in their exile, “We’ve sinned; we’ve done wrong; we’ve been most wicked,” and turn back to you heart and soul in the land of the enemy who conquered them, and pray to you toward their homeland, the land you gave their ancestors, toward the city you chose, and this Temple I have built to the honor of your Name,

Listen from your home in heaven to their prayers desperate and devout and do what is best for them.

Forgive your people who have sinned against you; forgive their gross rebellions and move their captors to treat them with compassion. They are, after all, your people and your precious inheritance whom you rescued from the heart of that iron-smelting furnace, Egypt!

O be alert and attentive to the needy prayers of me, your servant, and your dear people Israel; listen every time they cry out to you! You handpicked them from all the peoples on earth to be your very own people, as you announced through your servant Moses when you, O God, in your masterful rule, delivered our ancestors from Egypt.

Having finished praying to God—all these bold and passionate prayers—Solomon stood up before God’s Altar where he had been kneeling all this time, his arms stretched upward to heaven. Standing, he blessed the whole congregation of Israel, blessing them at the top of his lungs:

“Blessed be God, who has given peace to his people Israel just as he said he’d do. Not one of all those good and wonderful words that he spoke through Moses has misfired. May God, our very own God, continue to be with us just as he was with our ancestors—may he never give up and walk out on us. May he keep us centered and devoted to him, following the life path he has cleared, watching the signposts, walking at the pace and rhythms he laid down for our ancestors.

“And let these words that I’ve prayed in the presence of God be always right there before him, day and night, so that he’ll do what is right for me, to guarantee justice for his people Israel day after day after day. Then all the people on earth will know God is the true God; there is no other God. And you, your lives must be totally obedient to God, our personal God, following the life path he has cleared, alert and attentive to everything he has made plain this day.”

The king and all Israel with him then worshiped, offering sacrifices to God. Solomon offered Peace-Offerings, sacrificing to God 22,000 cattle and 120,000 sheep. This is how the king and all Israel dedicated The Temple of God.

That same day, the king set apart the central area of the Courtyard in front of God’s Temple for sacred use and there sacrificed the Whole-Burnt-Offerings, Grain-Offerings, and fat from the Peace-Offerings—the bronze Altar was too small to handle all these offerings.

This is how Solomon kept the great autumn feast, and all Israel with him, people there all the way from the far northeast (the Entrance to Hamath) to the far southwest (the Brook of Egypt)—a huge congregation. They started out celebrating for seven days—and then did it another seven days! Two solid weeks of celebration! Then he dismissed them. They blessed the king and went home, exuberant with heartfelt gratitude for all the good God had done for his servant David and for his people Israel.

The Book of 1st Kings, Chapter 8 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, november 21 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons about this week’s reading from the Torah by Jews worldwide:

We often see what we want to see... From our Torah portion this week (i.e., parashat Toldot) we read: “And Jacob was simmering stew when Esau came in from the field, famished” (Gen. 25:29). The Midrash Rabbah comments that Esau saw the stew and asked why it was being cooked. He was told that it was a traditional mourner’s meal because his grandfather Abraham had just died. Upon hearing this, Esau quickly became offended that one so righteous as Abraham had died and exclaimed: “If that’s the case, there is no reward for one’s good deeds, and no repair from death...” In this way Esau’s offence over sorrow and suffering moved him to interpret reality as being inherently unjust, and by this logic he justified his godless lifestyle... Because bitterness took root within his heart, Esau despised his birthright and spurned the very significance of his life (Heb. 12:15-16).

Jewish post-Holocaust theology (i.e., "theology after Auschwitz") has wrestled with these sorts of harrowing and disturbing questions, though on a far larger and more traumatic scale. How could an all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful God allow (or permit) the horrors of the Shoah? For many Jews, the Holocaust marked the practical end of their faith, while for others it marked the start of a “theology of protest.” In either case, however, the horrific reality of the Holocaust requires an authentic response from all of us. Providing an intellectual theory about the “problem of evil” seems empty and even irreverent in the face of such unspeakable acts of cruelty. Beware of any theology that denies the reality and heartache of human suffering. Yeshua offered up “loud cries and tears” during the days of his flesh, and he wept over the pain others experienced (Heb. 5:7, John 11:35).

In Fyodor Dostoyevsky's novel The Brothers Karamazov (1880), Ivan Karamazov argued with his devout brother Alyosha regarding the nature of faith. Ivan intellectually accepted God's existence, His wisdom, and His heavenly goal to ultimately save an alienated world, but he nonetheless challenged the idea that any future good -- even if it should be “beyond all the heart’s imaginings” (1 Cor. 2:9) -- could ever “atone for” the present evil and manifold suffering found in this world. To make his point, Ivan needed to find just one case of entirely “gratuitous evil” - an irrefutable counterexample to the viewpoint that this is the “best of all possible worlds.” He therefore listed a number of cases of extreme and excessive cruelty in the world, but he finally focused on a heart-wrenching account of a five year old girl who was chained to an outhouse and left to die in the Russian winter. No matter what might be offered in the way of “defense” of God, no “future good” could possibly justify the suffering of this child. Despite the hopeful theory that God will one day “wipe away every tear,” Ivan stated that he could never accept the nature of this-worldly reality: "I refuse to accept this world of God's... Please understand, it is not God that I do not accept, but the world he has created. I do not accept God's world and I refuse to accept it."

Such is the essence of the “offense” (σκάνδαλον) held within the faithless and fearful heart, an offense that objects over the decrees of God and therefore over the nature of reality itself. It is a protest, a generalized objection, to the “drama” of the universe decreed by God to be a place of suffering and pain that ultimately leads to redemption.... Spiritually speaking, this offence is the deep despair called the “sickness unto death.” We are therefore warned by the Spirit of God: "See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no root of bitterness (שׁרֶשׁ פּרֶה) springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; that no one is immoral or profane like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal. For you know that afterward, when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it (the blessing) with tears" (Heb. 12:15-17; Gen. 27:38).

“The optimist believes that this is the best of all possible worlds; the pessimist believes the optimist is right...” The facts remain the same for both, but what is different is something within the heart, something that moves the will to no longer recoil from the world but rather to accept it. Faith is a type of courage, a willingness to take risks, even in the midst of ambiguity. It surrenders to God’s plan and will, even if that plan makes no sense at the moment. Of course it is intellectually “safer” to refrain from such trust and to yield to a “hermeneutic of suspicion.” It is woefully easy to play the skeptic, to toy with ultimate questions, to affect intellectual superiority -- but at what cost? Is the supposed “defense” against being mistaken more important the risk of commitment? Isn’t such an approach to life essentially a form of cowardice? Without risk, we would never marry, have children, or take hold of our dreams. Some people might dismiss the dream of God’s love as nonsense and futility, but the Scriptures make it clear that such hope represents the very substance (ὑπόστασις) of our faith (Heb 11:1). [Hebrew for Christians]

https://hebrew4christians.com/

11.20.20 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

November 21, 2020

A Marvelous Thing

“The man answered and said unto them, Why herein is a marvelous thing, that ye know not from whence he is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes.” (John 9:30)

A “marvelous thing” in the Bible is something that generates awe or wonder. Sometimes it refers to a miracle but more often to something very unexpected and remarkable.

But the most marvelous thing of all is that unbelievers still persist in their unbelief. In our text passage the Lord Jesus Christ had just performed one of His most amazing miracles of creation—making perfect eyes for a man blind from birth. As the man testified to the frustrated Pharisees: “Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind” (John 9:32). Yet, these religious intellectuals, so opinionated in their prejudices, refused to believe what they saw and heard. Similarly, “when the chief priests and scribes saw the wonderful things [i.e., ‘marvelous things’] that he did...they were sore displeased” (Matthew 21:15).

There are none so blind as those who refuse to see. One of the saddest verses in the Bible is John 1:10: “He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not.” And, “he came unto his own, and his own received him not” (v. 11). Even when He raised Lazarus from the dead, “the chief priests consulted that they might put Lazarus also to death; Because that by reason of him many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus” (John 12:10-11).

Modern “intellectuals” are still the same, rejecting the overwhelming testimony of the created complexity in the cosmos to the fact of a personal Creator in favor of an impossible scenario of chance origin. “Herein is a marvelous thing!” Such people “willingly are ignorant” and “without excuse” (2 Peter 3:5; Romans 1:20). HMM

[42ndstreet-bway]

Two Worlds Collide

Chapter 16

"Aaron," I said faintly as I had a sore throat, "Coming sweetheart!" I smiled, the door opened, "Hey darling I thought you would be out for ages," he said as he walked to my bed and laid down facing me so our foreheads were touching, "I'm sorry," I started to cry, "Hey now, you listen to me, okay?" He said as he wiped my tears and cupped my cheek, "Whatever happens, we're a team now, and whatever happens, it's us that will get through it together."

He kissed my lips, it was sweet and tender. "I was so worried about you, I didn't know what to do," he said with a shaky breath, "I am sorry it hasn't been that bad in a while, I normally have medication to take for it but it's been alright so I haven't take it in a while," I said not looking at Aaron. "Well that's silly, don't you think?" I laughed. "Now, are you ready to talk? I don't want to make you do anything, but I think there's something to get off your chest." I nodded, he put his arm around my waist pulling me closer to him, "So umm what has Mollie said?" I asked, "She said that you've suffered from anxiety since high school, you were bullied and some guy used to play a game with his friends a lot and you were left out by friends."

I swallowed and nodded, "That's all true, but there's more to me than meets the eye," tears start forming in my eyes, Aaron just smiled at me to somehow reassure me, "I have a lot of mechanical issues I have something called Turner's Syndrome," that was when I broke down, he pulled me towards his chest, "Shhh baby, it's okay, deep breaths," I did what he said and was calming down a little.

"Let me guess, you were worried that when I found out, I would leave?" He said as he stroked my hair, I nodded, "I just can't be a normal girlfriend for you Aaron, you won't be able to have a normal relationship with me, I don't want to put you through all the looking after me when I'm ill, coming with me to appointments, and all that." I was full on sobbing now, Aaron put a finger under my chin and lifted my head so I could look at him, "Well, you know what, I want to do all of that; I want to be there at the doctor’s appointments, I want to be one whose shoulder you cry on when it's a bad day, I want to be the one who looks after you and cares for you. We'll get through all that together, okay? It's us against the world, and I don't care about normal there's no such thing; I care about you." He kissed me with so much passion I knew he meant it.

"I'm just not used to this, the whole boyfriend thing, having someone who I like actually liking me back, I know it sounds silly," I blushed a little, "You’re too cute, you know that?" He strokes my hair, "It's not silly at all darling, now you get some more sleep, okay? I can see you’re exhausted." He got off of the bed, "You'll be back?" I asked, hoping I didn't scare him off, "Of course darling," he kissed my forehead.

Aaron's POV

I stayed with Harper stroking her hair till I knew she was asleep, once I walked out I left the door open slightly, "She told you..." Mollie said as I sat down on the sofa, "Yeah she did," I took a sip of the beer, "Where's your head at?" Mollie asked. "All over the place, there's a lot to digest, I haven't heard of Turner’s before," I said rubbing the back of my neck. "You must mean a lot to her if she's told you; she's never told anyone, not even friends at her work," I smiled, "She means a lot to me too," I said. "Here," Mollie handed me a book, "What's this?" I asked, "It's a Turner’s Syndrome support society booklet, there's all the information and everything about TS." I looked at the cover, Turner Syndrome – lifelong guidance & support, said the title I turned it over to read the back, "It covers everything you need to know about TS. It includes diagnosis, genetics, treatments, personal experiences, and other aspects of living with TS," Mollie said. "Thank you," I said, "Look on their website as well, it's really good," she smiled, "Just don't break her heart, okay? Otherwise that voice of yours, the money maker, is gone," she said in a stern voice. "Trust me, that's never happening, she's too special to me to ever let go," I said, "I know but come on, someone had to do the, ‘break her heart, I'll break your legs talk’," we laughed, "Just look after her," she pleaded, "Of course I will." Mollie headed to her room.

After I finished the beer and texted Lisa saying we need to meet, I went back to Harper in her room and carefully got in bed without waking her, I spent hours reading the booklet and some of it made sense and was quite fascinating as well. Turner’s Syndrome is a genetic disorder that affects about 1 in every 2,000 baby girls and only affects females, Turner’s girls are missing an X chromosome which means they don't produce any natural hormones and because of this they are put on hormone replacement therapy. There is also heart, kidney and many more problems as well, but the thing that shocked me the most was that Turner’s girls are infertile, now I know why she didn't want to tell me, but it's not going to change my feelings for her, not one bit, in fact it makes her more special to me. My head popped out of the book when Harper was a little restless, "Shhhh go back to sleep angel," I whispered stroking her hair.

The Next Morning*

I woke up to find Aaron gone, I started to panic but then heard his voice in the living room, I let out a sigh of relief and got out of bed and walked to the door. I leant on the door frame watching Aaron pacing around the kitchen on the phone, he had no clue I was up. He turned around and saw me, "Um Lisa I'm going to have to call you back she's up, okay, I'll see you later bye," he hung up. "Morning sweetie," he said giving me a kiss, "Morning, I got worried when I saw you were gone," I said walking over to the sofa. "I'm sorry darling," Aaron said as he sat next to me, "I told Lisa last night to phone me in the morning," he said. "What did she say?" I asked, "She said she wants to meet us today to sort out a plan or something," he said, "But don't worry you don't have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, love," he said squeezing my hand. "Okay," I smiled at him. We spent the morning cuddled up watching daytime tv, after Live With Kelly and Ryan finished we got ready to meet Lisa at Aaron's.

We got to Aaron's apartment before Lisa arrived, we had time to get drinks and food sorted, the door knocked Aaron answered it, "Hi Lisa,” he said giving her a hug, "And this must be Harper," she said walking to me. "Yes, hi," I said, we walked over to the sofa and sat down, “So we need to come up with a plan," she said we talked for what felt like hours, she first suggested that we did an interview with Broadway.com Aaron straight away said no he said, "Harper wouldn't feel comfortable with that," he was right. Then she suggested we did a normal tweet confirming the relationship but that's too typical and well known, "What about a YouTube video?" she asked, "As you’re a YouTuber Harper, would you feel comfortable with that?" I liked the idea, "Yeah, I would but it's also up to Aaron as well," I said turning my head to him. "I don't mind darling, I'm fine with whatever, this is more for you and making you comfortable than me," he said with a loving smile. "Okay let’s do it," Aaron kissed my temple, "Okay great, now I think you should wait a week or two to do the video," she said and we went over some other details then she left.

"I'm glad that's all sorted now," I said putting my arms round Aaron's torso, "Me too love," I kissed her forehead. "So ummm I've got a clinic appointment on Tuesday do you want to come with me? I understand if you don't want to, I don't want you to feel-" he cut me off with kiss "Of course I'll come with you, darling." I smiled, "But I thought you had to go back home tomorrow because of work?" he asked, "Well I talked to my friend Bridget and she said she needed some extra money so we've swapped shifts, and plus," I put my arms round his neck, "I'm not ready to leave just yet." I smiled at him.

[ecotone99]

[SF] A World of Wonder and Terror

So, this is my first story, and I am excited to share this. Part 2 will come out when I feel like making it.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 1

"What was the harm in going back to the past and changing a few things?" My teacher gave me a stern look.

"Now listen here,James Erwin,messing with the past is dangerous because it could alter the future in drastic ways. Stepping on a single dragonfly in the wilderness could make humans be slaves to reptile men." My class started giggling at that part.

"And are you sure these reptile men aren't hot? I mean,if they are,then I would gladly be enslaved to them." The class roared in laughter! It was usually my thing.

"James Erwin,get those images of hot reptile anime things out of your head! This is serious!" The bell started to ring.

"Class dismissed. Remember tomorrow we will be using the Time Machines,so be prepared."

I got to my dorm around 3 in the afternoon. My homework was pretty easy,just calculating the distance between two points. At seven my three roomates arrived. Two were in my class and about to go into the Time Machine.

Helen is in my class and is always the first to laugh at my jokes. She gets really nervous around me for some reason. Whenever she sees my face,she looks the other way and starts twiddling with her long hair.

Carl is the other one in my class and we call him “Emo to the Extremo.” He believes that total anarchy is the only way humans can be satisfied. Ironically enough,he is under 18.

Jonathan is in another class and have already used the Time Machines. He is cautious and doesn’t believe that humans should try to change the past. He believes Time Travel is a tool that should be heavily guarded and regulated. I say he hates having fun together.

“So James,about to jack off to some vampire anime girls.” Jonathan also is a big prick. “Which are you gonna look at tonight,the Ts or the As?” Helen looks like she is going to run back to her room.

“Johno,can you please go back to your stash of 1990s celebrities. I think that MC Hammer needs a listen to.” He hates when people call him Johno.

“You can listen and admire culture all you want,but one day you will die unfulfilled because you wasted your life with it.” Carl’s head sank low onto his body.

“Listen,Carl,just lighten up,will ya?” I tried to get Carl to pick his head up.

“No,anarchy is the only way to be fulfilled.” Carl ran into his room. I thought it was getting late and I went to bed too.

The next day I woke up and was out the door in a jiffy. I arrived at class just in time to hear the precautions for the Time Machine.

“Now remember,stay on the blue path. It makes sure you can’t disturb anything and nothing can disturb you. And remember,don’t kill anything. It could alter the present and cause drastic changes.” I readied my suit and was getting with my group of Helen and Carl.

The doors to the Machine opened and we walked through. There was a flash of pure white,and then we saw it.The trees towered over the skyline,the giant reptilian dinosaurs ran through,and it was literally a blast to the past.

Now,I am a very playful individual,and I do like to mess around with things. So,me being me,I tried to pretend to disturb something. and I stretched my foot over the edge of the blue path.

“Hey look Carl,I’m going to make sure Communism becomes the only economic system.” Carl faced me with a stern look. Helen just kept silent. “Hey Helen,look at me,I’m about to make sure that we get enslaved by hot reptile people.” She cracked a smile and let out a chuckle.

I started to put more than my foot over the edge. Soon an arm,and then two arms,then I lent over,then suddenly,I fell into the Jungle. I picked my head up and started to find the path. It was high up in the trees. Luckily,there was a downed branch near the pathway. I started running toward it,and I hear something squeal. I accidentally stepped on a mouse.

It’s a stupid mouse.I thought,What harm could it do? I got back to the path and was helped up by Carl and Helen.

“You stupid idiot. We could get expelled because of you.” Carl was worried. Helen seemed to sink more into the background.

The Time Machine made a whistle sound,meaning that it was about to go back. We rushed to the Machine as fast we could.

I am so getting expelled for this. I thought. I really was,because I knew that when I walk through that machine,my teacher would send me to the principal and I would be expelled. I would be expelled over a mouse!

The White in our eyes came back,but something felt different. I realized that when the whiteness cleared. It was nighttime,which was odd because on our watches it said 3:50. Then I looked at the period and saw it was AM.

Shoot. I thought. We spent so much time in their that it’s nighttime. I then looked around and to my suprise,the school wasn’t there.

“Did we travel to the wrong time when we got out of there?” Helen and Carl both shook their heads.

“I don’t know where the hell we just arrived,but it’s given me the creeps.” Carl looked frightened.

“Really,Mr. Anarchy is the only way humans can be fulfilled.”

“Screw you,James. If it wasn’t for you,we’d be home right now!” I started to pound the shit out of Carl.

“Guys,stop fighting. Please stop.” Helen seemed to have tears in her eyes.

“So you can talk.” Helen looked away so soon as I said that.

“Ahahahahahaha.” We all heard the creepy laughter. We looked up and we saw dozens of pillars. There was a vampire woman on one of the pillars in a relieving outfit looking down at us. “Oh don’t stop now,I was just starting to enjoy it. Besides,the fun is only about to start.” She raised her hands up and chanted something. Zombies came up from the ground with filming cameras. The Vampire lady stood in front of the Camera that was in front of us.

“Welcome,ladies and gentleman,to the spectacular program tonight. I’m your world famous host Aliza,and welcome to Non-monster Extravaganza. Tonight,we have three lucky contestants to be on this show on this lovely afternoon.” The zombie crewmen put collars on each of us. “If you haven’t seen an episode of our show before,let me explain the rules. The contestants have to face on challenges that involve humiliation,going insane,and even self-mutilation. If one of them passes all three challenges,they are allowed to be in the overworld and not be subjected back to the underground. If a contestant refuses,they will be shocked by the collar until they decided to continue or die. If a contestant fails,they will get a one-way ticket to my personal dungeon where they will become my living slave for all eternity. Now that’s out of the way,let us begin.”

She stepped away from the camera and started the first challenge.

“Each Non-monster will have to now survive being naked in public for two whole days,and never putting anything on to reveal their bodies. The monsters in public have been advised to not kill the Non-monsters as they complete the challenge. This challenge will take place in the most populated monster city,New Gahi.” We were transported there in an instant. “The challenge starts now!” Our clothes are gone and Monsters were everywhere. They all looked like hot people,like hot werewolves,hot mermaids in the big pools of water around the city,and hot vampires,like Aliza.

The monsters had either started to look away,shield their child’s eyes,or had taken a liking to our bare bodies.

“If you want to talk to each other,that’s alright. It isn’t against the rules.” Aliza seemed to be watching over us.

“James,” Carl whispered to me, “What the actual fuck did you do to have us end up like this?”

“All I did was step on a mouse,that’s it.” I thought about it and it realized something is wrong. How could stepping on a mouse mess up humanity that bad? Then,I knew that the answer was watching over me like a bird over its prey.

“Excuse me,Aliza.” She looked in my direction. “Can you please tell me about the origins of the Monsters and Non-monsters? My parents never told me about it.”

She thought about it for some time and decided on an answer.

“Alright,since you have nothing better to do,i’ll tell you.” Zombie Camera men appeared everywhere with remote controls in their hands.

“It started a long time ago,we evolved from little mammals like mice and rats,and we became what we call humanity. Some of us though,became what we know as monsters. We could enslave,control,and live off the non-monsters. This happened because of a mutation that became commonplace because there wasn’t enough non-mutated genes to go about. A side effect,though,was that it made us not able to handle the sun,so we didn’t go out much. Today, our best scientists have blocked out the sun entirely through clouds.

“We tried to keep our distance from the Non-monsters as best we could,but they wanted everything. Our mutation made us more humble than the Non-monsters. They were a sub-race of us monsters,and they wanted all the land for themselves. We sealed them underground with a magic barrier that is impenetrable from their side. Even though they couldn’t get out,we could get in. We sometimes ask for humans for their blood,their bodies,or for my game show. You just happened to be lucky enough not to be one of the blood givers. And buddy,you should be glad that I even host this show. Otherwise,” Her pupils seemed to disappear into nothing. “You would be bowing at my feet for mercy.”

I stopped at that point. I sat down and began to rest. I waited the two days out while Helen just cried and Carl mumbled to himself.

“Congrats,Non-monsters,you completed the challenge! Now for the second,” Instead of our clothes,though,we had straight jackets. “Survive a week in solitary confinement.”

We were then transported to a cell with no windows or door. I looked around and heard Aliza’a voice.

“See you in a week,Non-monsters. Ta Ta.” I sat down in my cell and decided to fall asleep. I was tired of trying to not embarrass myself in front of those monsters. I fell asleep,woke up,and went back to bed. I kept doing this until I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I was pretty sure it was a rat of some kind. I went over to it and tried to look at it more. Then it started to become distorted and grow.

What the hell is happening? I thought to myself. The rat grew into a human. I looked at them and saw that it was Helen. Her hair was covering her face though.

“Helen,where did you learn to shapeshift?” I pulled back her hair and screamed as I saw that it was the face of a spider. I heard voices in my head,and they all were saying different things that didn’t make sense.

“Kill the spare!”

“The curtains are really on fire!”

“Let's go play with the knife!”

“Dad,I want to try to break the human!”

I’m going insane.I thought. I really was,and I hid under the bed. I tried to drown out the voices,but they couldn’t get out. The room started spinning,the walls began to melt,and I saw horrid things. These things I can not describe,they would make the sanest person go mad. They were with me until this nightmare is over.

This lasted until god knows when. It felt like ages until I heard Aliza’a voice.

“Congrats to all Non-monsters,you all made it.” The room started to slow down,the walls came back,and the voices stopped.

I was then teleported into a room with Carl and Helen. Helen was in a fetal position and on the floor crying,while Carl was holding on to the walls trying not to throw up.

Aliza walked into the room and made us look her way.

“Well done,Non-monsters. You made it past the second challenge. Most people don’t last that long.”

“Well most people would not want to even do that you sadistic Dracula’s daughter wannabe!” Carl was visibly shaking and was almost a deep shade of green.

“Oh don’t say that,at least I didn’t make you saw off your arms or legs like last season. Besides,I am a relative of this ‘Dracula’ you sepak of. He was my great-great-great-great-grandfather.” Carl looked scared along with looking like he was going to vomit his insides out.

“Now,the last challenge is going to be personal,literally. We will scan your brain for your greatest fears,and we are going to manifest them in every possible way. The only way to beat the challenge is to conquer your fear.” Three different chairs with helmets attached to the tops came out of the darkness. Aliza swinged her arm in the direction of the chairs and we flew into them. The helmets seemed to instantly attach to our heads. Metal rings popped up and held us in place.

“Now get ready,” Aliza swiftly raised a button of some sort. “To be Scanned!”

The chairs made a whirring sound and a light started emitting from the helmets. Then,there was a sharp pain that went through my entire body. This lasted for about five minutes until the chair deactivated. We got up from our chairs and fell to the ground.

“Wonderful,absolutely wonderful.” Aliza was now facing the camera. “Let us begin the challenges.” She snapped her fingers and I was transported to a room with nothing. It was so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I don’t know how,but I heard Aliza’s voice coming from somewhere.

“James,your challenge,” Aliza appeared right in front of me.

Jesus,she’s hot. I kept thinking to myself.

Aliza’s eyes went from normal to almost reptilian in an instant. Her teeth went to fangs,her skin became pale as a ghost,and her tongue slithered out of her mouth. Veins seemed to pop out of her body.

“Is to survive me!”

I heard her laughter and she teleported right in front of me. I ran away to the right,and saw a door. I opened the door to see dungeons crawling with spiders.

Fuck, I thought as I ran through what seemed to be endless hallway. That stupid thing was accurate.

I came to a three-way crossroads.

I can lose her here. I was certain she couldn’t go all directions at once.

“Where are you going,darling?” Aliza seemed to be following me. “Don’t you want to succumb to a fabulous movie star like me?”

I sprinted to the right,hoping she didn’t know where I was going. The walls started to have more spiders on them,until they were crawling everywhere. Webs started to become larger,until I was completely caught in the web. I heard giant footsteps,and I saw a giant hairy spider leg come out of the darkness.

Crap, I thought. I really need to get out of here. I started to run to the other side until I heard Aliza coming toward me.

“Come here,mommy is thirsty.” I went over my opinions and decided that I would rather run toward the giant spider then have my blood be sucked out by a hot vampire. I grabbed pieces of the web and was ripping it off of me. The giant spider was horrific when it came into view. I just managed to move again when I first saw it. The hairy body and disgusting face unnerved me to the point where I just ran under it without looking up. I ran until I came at another crossroads,but these only went left and straight. I looked around until a recognized something from the other crossroads.

These are the same ones,but because I stopped the spiders,the path is gone. The thought had been creeping up on me when I first went down the hallway,but I didn’t think it would actually happen.

I went left because I would just keep running when I finished this challenge. I went in here,and I saw what I thought to be something of my nightmares.

There was an unsteady bridge that was being held up by wooden poles that could be called sticks,and on the bottom were snakes that looked like they wanted to make me their dinner.

I put my foot down on the steps,and the planks started to crack.

End of Part 1

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