#all the way in chapter six considering how chaotic everything gets and how he’s involved in like … everything following that) (which also re

[javierduffy]

ohh javieran … javieran post kieran’s death .., javier is a poor lonesome cowboy in america a long way from home with no more sweetheart to sit and talk with him ooohhh can anyone hear me ….

[blueburds-but-swtor]

The Path Ahead; part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Finally giving Altrethir and Ashara more well-deserved time together! I had fun with this chapter and spent a little extra time tweaking it. Hope yall like it <3

“I sense your uneasiness, Altrethir,” said Ashara, breaking the silence of their meditation. As he gave her no immediate reply, she took the opportunity to pry further. “You didn’t just ask me to join you for meditation.”

“You are correct,” Altrethir murmured as his eyes slowly opened. “This was our only means to get away from the base without drawing suspicion.”

Ashara’s brows furrowed, “Suspicion?”

“I would like to hear your thoughts on a concerning matter.”

“If it’s whatever’s troubling you, then absolutely.”

Altrethir exhaled a deep sigh from his nose, shifting atop his knees. “The traitor within our ranks: I have them narrowed down to a small list of individuals.”

“You must have been working hard. It’s been less than a week since the whole incident on Iokath.”

“I have spent every free moment of my time investigating.” All things considered, it was quite obvious who this traitor was. Still Altrethir’s gut churned with every piece of evidence he collected.

“Who’ve you narrowed it down to?” Ashara asked.

“The only individuals who were directly involved with the superweapon scheme: Empress Acina, Lana, and Theron.”

“Acina has a history of being deceitful and manipulative. It’s got to be her.” Ashara then gestured to him, “Maybe Thexia isn’t the ally she preferred. Her loyalty to the Empire was put into question in the past, but yours never was.”

“You suggest that Thexia has grown to be too much of a wild card for Acina’s own comfort?”

“In a sense.”

“I do not believe loyalty is what concerns the Empress, rather, she seeks powerful allies. Allies who both benefit from a mutual goal, not particularly loyal to one another. Thexia and I both hold substantial amounts of power; physically and figuratively. Eliminating one of us would have no benefit to her, nor the Empire.” Altrethir glanced to his friend, her brows furrowed and lips pressed thinly in thought. “The reason for this incident,” he continued, “I believe goes beyond mere faction wars.

“You understand that this matter was only to be kept between Thexia, Lana and Theron, but Theron enlightened me of the situation regardless. Thus, I have only received his end of the story. He claimed to have been fixing a power cable in the eastern hallway at the time of the attack.”  

Altrethir retrieved his holodevice and produced an image. Ashara looked to it, observing the angles as it slowly spun. “The power cable in question,” Altrethir elaborated, “claimed to have been damaged by the droids. It has been sliced through with a blade.”

“What type of weapons did the droids use?” Ashara said, catching on.

“Vibroknives, conveniently. But the width and depth of the cuts are what caught my attention.” Altrethir then opened his backpack and pulled out a vibroknife. “Taken from one of the droids in the control room. I inspected every one of their knives, concluding that they were all identical. The blades are long and thin,” he traced the blunt end of the knife with his finger for emphasis, “but the cuts are short and wider.”

Ashara observed the knife and the holo image. Granted, it was difficult to truly determine the damage from a mere image. “So one of the droids didn’t damage the cable. It was the assassin, then? They were trying to create a distraction to draw Theron out?”

“In some manner, yes. Contrary to Theron’s claims, the droids were not the ones who destroyed the cables. That much is true. I also investigated the superweapon’s systems—as much as I could, anyway. I had difficulty sifting through the fried circuits, but I digress.” Altrethir then pulled out his datapad and scrolled through his notes. “The coding the droids of Iokath use follow its own self-created programing. Thankfully, SCORPIO left enough of the coding within the Gravestone for me to begin understanding it.”

Coding and slicing were never his strong suits, but over the course of time he spent with Theron, he’d learned the basics and more. He understood where to start and what to look for between the lines.

“When the superweapon charges up, the room undergoes an intense lockdown protocol. Nothing may enter or exit. Only the GEMINI droids, even ARIES, could override the system.  

“But there aren’t any GEMINI droids on Iokath?”

“No,” Altrethir muttered disdainfully. He briefly recalled the event in which Thexia cut down SCORPIO before she could merge into the planet’s system. Truthfully, he thought, that was the reason Iokath had become as chaotic as it was now: it lacked coordination, a sole voice to listen to. The droids ran without guidance or goals. While SCORPIO wasn’t one to be trusted, at least she could have kept the droids under control.

“Even if there was another way to override the programing, it was never tampered with. Here,” he gestured to a line of code that he highlighted in his notes. “There is never any implication that security protocols were lifted. Meaning our suspects are those who were already inside the control room when the assassin struck.”

“So the assassin was already waiting when they arrived,” Ashara said in slow understanding.

“Perhaps. In regard to the self-defense system, here,” Altrethir turned to another page of notes. “Six battle droids are to awaken and eliminate the threat of any tampering with the terminal. Meaning that when the control terminal is damaged or at risk of being harmed—or perhaps if it is already damaged—the droids engage. Theron said he was fighting droids while Thexia was already conversing with the superweapon.

“He did not mention fighting droids when they both entered the chambers, but I do not believe they did. I can recognize remnants of Thexia’s fighting in a heartbeat; not a single one of those droids were sliced in half, decapitated, or crushed by means of the Force. And thus, Theron’s claims contradict the programing of the superweapon.

“Our traitor is no one else than my dear Agent Shan.”

Ashara blinked. Her gut tightened, knowing what significant pain her friend must have felt. “I see why you’re so uneasy now,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, Altrethir. Have you felt his guilt through the Force?”

“Not much. He’s masked his emotions well over the past few days, further drawing my suspicion. Coupled with the evidence, our traitor can be only him.” Altrethir leaned forward, bringing a hand to his mouth then drawing his fingers down his chin in thought. “But my involvement in everything was intentional. He brought the matter to my attention, after all. I fail to yet understand why.”

“The SIS had him on all sorts of undercover missions, right? Maybe he has to keep extra quiet about this one.”

“The SIS has not recruited him for such a mission.”

“How do you know?”

Altrethir hesitated. He glanced to Ashara but kept his head in place. “They already have an agent of the Republic working undercover for them. They wouldn’t require another, not one to do something as drastic as this.”

“What are you talking about?” She kept her voice low but there was eagerness in her tone.

“I allied myself with the Republic. I refuse to become a slave to the Empire again. My agreement in joining Acina was a ruse. But, for now, I work in absolute secrecy for the Republic. I trust you, Ashara, as I have for many years. You must not tell anyone else. Not even your own allies of the Republic, and especially no one else from our old crew.”

Her expression was one of pleasant surprise. A short huff of a laugh escaped her lips as if in disbelief. She gave a quick shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders, “You’re for real? I mean—stars, I’m relieved that you’re not returning to the Empire. But to join the Republic? How did you manage to convince them?”

“I shall tell you someday in a more secure setting. That is where I would like to drop the matter, please.”

“Of course. So, Theron,” her smile slowly faded. “He’s pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes but yours. What are you going to do about him?”

“I shall continue things as normal. Outing him directly as a traitor will not end well for anyone. I do not believe his intentions are malicious; his assassination attempt on Thexia was orchestrated to be non-lethal. The voltage the superweapon produced was created to short-circuit droids, not to kill humanoids. This was intentional.”

“He’s still on our side.”

“Yes. There is a deeper layer of this situation that I’ve yet to uncover. I shall remain ever observant. And I would like for you to as well, Ashara.”

[starstaiined]

Would You Lie With Me & Just Forget The World?

Chapter 2

SUMMARY: The world is a dangerous place. It can be big, scary, and almost overwhelmingly dark. But despite all the negative aspects, despite all the pain and turmoil, Katherine Howard has always found a brief reprieve in the other queens. Particularly, in her older cousin. (And as loathe as they are to admit it, the other queens have to agree with her.) Anne Boleyn can be chaotic, wild, and reckless  … but she’s also passionate, kind, and effervescent. Her boundless energy acts as a barrier against the bad in the world. But when that barrier breaks and the world turns on its head, can Kat manage to navigate the turbulent waters without her cousin by her side?  

CHAPTER ONE // 

TW: Implied abuse/neglect, Implied sexual abuse, Panic Attack, Car crash 

A/N: sorry this chapter took so long! I ended up having to trim parts out and it isn’t as smooth as I was hoping for, but this is one of the rougher chapters to set up because of all the background. (I’m setting this in my own AU verse/idea that I’m still writing up the lore for, if anyone wants to hmu for that feel free!) 

TAGGING: @the10amongstthese3s  @radcowboyalmondtree  @tonight-we-are-live  @the-queen-bee-is-here  @everything-insanity  @whoufflewhovian200311  (if you want to be added, just reply to this post, send me an ask, or hit up my ims! these are the people I know who were interested!) 

“Annie, I’m scared.” 

Anne froze, the almost inaudible admission tugging at her heart. She climbed down from the garage roof as easily as she’d climbed up. “You don’t need to be scared, Kit. I’ve got you, okay? Just trust me.” Anne smiled mischievously, shooting her brightest gap toothed grin at her cousin.

Kitty visibly relaxed, and Anne showed Kitty how to use the materials lining the side of the building to get to the top. (After it, it wasn’t more than a few feet in the air.) But as ordinary as the view may have been, it was extraordinary because they were there together. 

Anne dropped to book bag she’d brought with her, unrolling the blanket and wrapping it around Kat’s shoulders. “Can’t let the birthday girl get too cold now, can I?” She asked with a teasing grin. She reached into the bookbag, unaware of the surprise on her cousin’s face. She handed Kat some silly plushie she picked up at the store, and a (terribly smashed) attempt at a cupcake. 

“You...you remembered?” Kat asked, looking down at the presents her cousin gave her as if they were the greatest thing in the world. The genuine shock in her voice startled Anne. 

“Of course I did Kit...why wouldn’t I? It’s not everyday your favorite cousin turns seven, after all.” 

“Dad and the boys sometimes forget...” Kitty attempted to appear nonchalant, although it was obvious she was upset. 

“They do what?” Anne growled, and Kitty flinched away at the change in her voice. Not now, Anne chided herself, using every ounce of teenage self restraint she had in order to plaster on the cheesiest grin she could muster. “I’m sure they’re just...planning a surprise or something.” 

“Maybe.” Kat mumbled, but it was clear she didn’t believe it. 

They sat in silence, before Anne’s lips curved back into their usual grin. She nudged her younger cousin. “Why don’t you spend the night? We can play board games and watch movies. I’ll even let you-oh.”

She’d been cut off mid sentence by a hug, and found Katherine peering up at her. “You’re the bestest, Annie! I love you.” The younger girl’s face shone with excitement that hadn’t been there moments earlier. 

Anne couldn’t help but mirror that joy. She ruffled Kit’s hair, laughing at the expression it produced. “I love you too, Kit. And I’m here for you. Always.” 

But their short moment was cut short as her father’s voice echoed up from the ground down below. “ANNE BOLEYN, GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW! THE LAST THING WE NEED IS YOUR POOR HABITS RUBBING OFF ON LITTLE KATHER-” 

And with that, Anne woke with a start. She damn near fell off her bed with a yell, catching herself last minute and blinking sleep out of her eyes. The other side of the bed was empty. Thank god. It meant Kat had slept with Jane instead, and she hadn’t accidently interrupted what little sleep the girl managed to get. Anne flopped back down on her bed with a sigh. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, energy buzzing in her exhausted muscles demanding that she get moving. She glanced at the alarm clock. 6:03 A.M. 

Well, that was as good a time as any to start the day, wasn’t it? She rolled out of bed, quietly, and made her way to the bathroom. She ran through her usual morning routines : brushing her teeth, throwing her hair up in a tight bun, changing out of her pajamas and into running gear. By six thirty, she was ready to run. With her headphones fixed firmly in her ears and music blasting, she let her muscles guide her. The song playing pulled up another memory, a little fuzzy around the edges but still soft enough to pull a smile from her. 

Family Christmas parties, everybody’s favorite time. Except not really. Anne dealt with it as best she could, which was ignoring damn near everyone and doing her own thing. She was choreographing a dance routine to a song that had just come out, earbuds in and focus completely on the movement of each muscle in time with the beat. Which is why she didn’t notice George until it was too late. He slammed into her side roughly, knocking her off her feet and sending her sliding across the floor. Anne stared slack jawed for a moment, recovering her breath, before yelling “What the fuck George!” 

“Careful Ninon, don’t let dear old dad hear you using that language.” George answered with a smirk, towering over her. The gleam in his eyes made it clear he was in one of his moods, which meant Anne was in for it. If there was one thing George excelled at, it was pushing her buttons. 

“Why don’t you go bother Mary for once?”

“Because Mary’s actually socializing with the family, unlike you.”

“Sorry, not sorry, but I’m trying to have fun. I’m not interested in being judged for stupid reasons, okay? I just want to be left alone.” 

“Don’t want to be judged, don’t give them reasons to judge you. It’s simple, really.” George answered with a shrug. “Besides, considering your …. reputation I don’t think they’re stupid reas-” 

“I don’t really care about your opinion, George.” Anne snapped, face immediately heating up. She pushed herself to her feet, taking a couple steps away from him. “Maybe you should shut up.”

“Maybe you should stop being such a sl-” He didn’t get to finish that thought as a pink blur knocked into his legs. It caught him off guard; he flailed his arms wildly to no avail and ended up tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. Anne blinked in surprise. George pushed himself to his feet quickly, visibly seething. “What the fuck!” 

Ten year old Katherine Howard, about two feet shorter and at least a hundred pounds lighter, didn’t break eye contact with George from where she’d positioned herself; she stood directly in front of Anne as if she were a human shield. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.” She deadpanned. 

“Brat.” George hissed, pointing a finger at the young girl menacingly. 

Kat just shrugged, but she could feel her hands trembling. “Takes one to know one, right?” 

Anne laughed, making her brother’s face flush six different shades of red. George, thoroughly humiliated and beyond angry, stormed off. Almost immediately Kat’s shoulders deflated. Anne pulled her younger cousin into a side hug. “KitKat, you are my hero.” 

“We’re family.” Kat answered back, her voice muffled by Anne’s shoulder. “We always protect each other, don’t we?” 

Anne smiled. “We do.” 

The memory faded. The burning in her muscles, and the unfamiliarity in her surroundings, made it clear she’d gotten lost in her head longer than she’d meant to. Crap. It took her nearly an hour to find her way back. She made a beeline straight for the fridge once she did. She gave the calendar a quick glance as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice, before doing a double take. 

November 4th. Kitty’s birthday was less than a week away! How in the hell had that happened? Anne was usually on top of these things, but between the interviews and the show and her work on choreo...she could feel guilt flooding her system. Shit. She wracked her brain, trying to remember whether or not Kitty had been acting strange recently. She’d seemed a little lethargic but Anne had chalked that up to being overworked with the show…

She didn’t think twice. She rushed up to Cleves room, flinging the door open in a panic as she shook the other girl. “Anna!” She hissed, voice low but pressing. “Anna, wake up!”

“Anne…?” Anna asked groggily. “What time is it…” 

“It’s eight.”

“What are you doing up? We didn’t go to bed until almost tw-”

“Shh, that doesn’t matter right now. I’m going to the store. Do you want to come?” 

Anne’s voice brimmed with urgency, but Anna was too tired to register it. She buried herself deeper into her blankets. “With your driving? No thank you, Miss Boleyn, I choose life.” She waved a hand dismissively, eyes never so much as cracking open. The warmth of her bed was too enticing. 

Anne heaved a sigh, but accepted Anna’s answer. She ran to the kitchen, scribbled a quick note on a post it, and attached it to the fridge. 

Need to run some errands. Urgent. Be back later. XO, Anne. 

And with that she disappeared through the door, the orange juice still sitting forgotten on the counter. 

The shopping went quickly. Or well, as quickly as it could go when Anne Boleyn was involved. She spent hours loading her cart with Kitty’s favorite snacks and movies, picked up random little knick knacks that she thought Kitty might like. (Hell, she even managed to find some cute presents for the rest of the queens.) Brimming with excitement about her haul, and eager to show it to the others, Anne was in a phenomenal mood when she hopped back in the car. She was jamming along to every song coming over the radio, grinning from ear to ear. 

The buzzing of her phone on the seat next to her snapped Anne out of her private karaoke concert. It was probably just Kat calling to check up on her. She could feel warmth spreading through her chest as she let out a breathless giggle, turning down the music and running a quick hand through her hair. She found Kitty’s worry endearing, although she half wished Kitty would realize that Anne would be fine. After all, she always was. 

She half debated it letting it ring to voicemail, just until she could answer without taking her hands off the wheel. That was….until the name on the caller ID caught her attention. 

THOMAS HOWARD.

Suddenly, all the mirth she’d felt drained out of her like air out of a popped balloon. She hadn’t spoken to her uncle in YEARS. The last time she’d seen him was the day that she had left, Kitty tucked under one arm and spare clothes under the other. He made good on his promise to ostracize both of them.

Kitty’s head is buried in the crook of her neck, tears staining the collar of her shirt. “I’m sorry,” Kitty chokes out between sobs, barely comprehensible. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Anne, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” 

Anne could feel a storm building beneath her skin, aching to break free and wreck every single person that had driven her cousin to this. SHE WAS A CHILD! But over the last few years, Anne had watched the light drain from her eyes. She was just kicking herself for not realizing what was going on earlier… But she can’t focus on that. Not right now. Instead she rubs soothing circles on Katherine’s back, rocking the girl back and forth. “It isn’t your fault, Kit.” Emotion rubbed her voice raw, and it takes everything in her not to cry. “None of it is. Not a damn thing. Do you hear me? Not a single damn thing.” 

If anything, that just seems to make Kat cry harder. “It is, it is Annie. I know it, and he knew it, and, and, and everyone knows it.” She’s cut off by a sob that shakes her frail shoulders. “He knew it, he said it, he-”

“He’s a piece of shit, Kit! I’m sorry, but it’s true. Your dad sucks. I wish it weren’t true, I wish you could’ve had the life you deserve. Somewhere far away from this bullshit.” Anne croaked out, a few silent tears falling as she fought to maintain a steady voice. “But you didn’t get that, instead life gave you a crappy hand and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. But I can promise you one thing.” Anne tucked Kitty’s head under her chin. “I know it isn’t much, but I’m here for you. Always. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m right here. And I’m always going to be right here, okay?” 

With a few sniffling breaths, Kitty nodded. Slowly, hesitantly, she held out a hand with her pinkie extended. In a small voice, she asked, “Pinkie promise?” 

Anne was all too happy to link their fingers. “Pinkie promise.” 

They made themselves more comfortable in the living room, still a tangle of limbs but this time a tangle of limbs under a blanket. Before drifting off to sleep, Kitty squeezed Anne’s hand. “Annie?” She asked, drowsily. 

“Hm?” 

“Earlier...earlier you said that you weren’t much...but you are. Okay? You’re the best. And I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

Anne squeezed her hand gently three times. I love you. “Don’t worry KitKat, you’ll never have to find out.” 

Anne’s thoughts flashed to every time since then that Kitty’s tears staining the collar of her shirt, to the way the poor girl had trembled from nightmares that stole her breath. She remembered rushing out on errands like this, doing anything and everything to pull a smile out of her cousin, who spent the week leading up to her birthday WISHING for that call from the rest of the family. Thomas Howard failed as a father consistently over the past two years, and there’s almost no one Anne hates more. (When she thinks of him, all she can see is Kat trembling, crying out my fault, my fault, my fault. Just thinking about it makes her jaw clench.) Even now, in what she assumes is an attempt to make amends, he was calling her and not Kitty!

She reached over, answering it swiftly and bringing it to her ear. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear what you have to say, I need you to shut the hell up for two seconds and listen to me, Thomas.”  Anger boiled in her veins and sharpened her tongue, but blurred everything else. In the haze of her own hatred, her focus on the phone pressed to her ear, she missed the truck that was swerving on a path directly towards her.

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

You and Me and You- Winchesters x OC Miliana

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Hi friends! I’m sorry I haven’t been updating anything in so long! Life has been crazy! Work was chaotic, I went out of town for my birthday last month, yes the one I was supposed to spend with the SPN cast :(, and I moved towns. I’m currently in a temporary living environment as my family searches for a new place! So yeah, I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. On top of that, the mobile app has been so freaking glitchy and it’s super annoying. I’m not on my laptop as much but it might be worth it to read more fics! I hope everyone is well and please, send feedback! 

Xxx Monique

Word Count: 2,420

Chapter 3- 1997- Miliana’s POV

It was just another day in high school for me. I didn’t think I was all that special, yet everyone wanted to be my friend. I tried to keep to myself since I wasn’t like any normal sixteen-year-old. No, I was raised by the infamous supernatural hunter, Bobby Singer. Yeah, that was a fun childhood. He was always in and out of the picture but he made sure to show me and tell me how much he loved me. It did help too when the Winchester Brothers would come to stay with me. They were good friends of mine but their Dad kind of went a bit crazy. He found one monumental case up in like Canada or somewhere, packed up all his things, including his sons, and off they went. It’s been six years since I’ve seen them. My Dad tried to stay local for all his hunts since he believed girls can’t and shouldn’t be hunters, and I guess that makes sense, considering a demon killed his wife, but still, I grew up in this life; I understand it. Jody and her friend Donna, who also is a Sheriff, would come by and bring some of the girls they would take in. Just to help them out, kinda like what Bobby did with me. They’d come around when my Dad had a case that wasn’t close to home and it’s not like I’m not old enough to stay at home alone; Dad just gets freaked out.

“So Miliana, you’re almost done with your sophomore year now. How’s that feel?” Jody asked me one day when she and Donna came to stay with me. They brought some girl, Jessica, to stay with us too but I didn’t like her.

“Oh, I’m excited but I’m also ready just to start junior year,” I admit.

“Why’s that, kiddo?” Donna asked.

“Well, there tend to be more ways to get involved in junior and senior year…” I trail off my thoughts, avoiding the real reason I couldn’t wait to be an upper-class woman.

“You mean there’s a prom once you become a junior?” Jody gave a knowing look.

Damn, she was good. Yeah freshmen and sophomores had dances but they were separated from the juniors and seniors and we didn’t get the same respect as they did.

“Well yeah,” I admit, sheepishly.

“That makes sense. Plus, you’ll feel older and feel like nothing is impossible.” Jody said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

She was exactly right. I loved Jody like she was my Mother. She kind of was, given the fact that when it came to girl stuff, she would be the one I called. My Dad would just get all embarrassed and wouldn’t know what to do. You can probably figure out how my first period went; awkward.

“Hey, I have to get going. I’m on the planning committee for this year’s end-of-school-year dance, as they call it for us lower classmen. I have to meet before and after school so I won’t be home until late!” I yell as I’m grabbing my backpack and rushing out the door.

“Don’t forget to call before you leave school so I can alert your father! Jody called, as I scurried out the door.

“Yeah!” I yell in response as I run out the door and down the driveway to meet up with my friend, Sandy. She was already further in life than I was. Sandy came from a wealthy background; Daddy paid for everything. She had a boyfriend, was gifted a car on her sixteenth birthday, and was already planning to attend college. She would be turning seventeen the first week of June so she was already “older” than the other sophomores.

“Hi, Sandy!” I say as I throw my bag in the back and off, we went.

“So, you won’t believe what I heard!” She starts with the daily gossip that was floating around campus before we even get there! This was a routine for us. Sandy would come to pick me up and would tell me all the latest drama before we even get to school. She’s very into other people and for the most part, this school doesn’t do a lot in private.

“What’s up today, Sand?” I ask. I was the only one allowed to call her that. She hated being called Sand but for some reason, we’re friends and I can call her Sand. Normally, you wouldn’t think two girls like us would be friends, but I stood up for her when some other “popular girls” were getting in her face, so I threatened to give all of them high-calorie snack bars, and they all backed off. Oh, that’s another thing. Almost all the girls at this school are on a low carb, no fat diet. They mostly ate salads all the time and ate like rabbits, which is why Sandy and I became friends. We both have high metabolisms so we can eat like pigs and never gain any weight; all the other girls are jealous.  

“Jared Kingston and Carly Wright are having an extremely public break up on the quad; again.”

“Jesus, again? Isn’t this like the twelfth time they’ve broken up?” I ask. Jared and Carly were your typical power couple; Jared, football captain, Carly, head cheerleader.

“Thirteenth.” Sandy corrected me.

“Don’t they get tired of all the drama? And for the love of God, can they not be so public about it?”

“Well, you know how Carly is. She thinks MTV is going to walk in one day and do a reality show off her non-existent singing career.” Sandy and I laughed. You sing a solo in the seventh-grade talent show and suddenly, you’re a professional singer.

“Hell, if anyone is a singer, it’s you, Mills. Get it?” I just scoff at Sandy’s lame joke, playing off my last name being Singer, and before I knew it, we were at school.

We parked the car and began grabbing all our stuff when a real sleek classic black car drove up to the front of the school. Parked rather crooked, two young boys got out of the car and everything around me suddenly came to a halt. I knew that car. I didn’t get a chance to see them because there was a thrall of students surrounding the car. Jared and Carly’s break up long forgotten, as guys were impressed with the car and the girls were impressed with the boys who came from that car.

“Whoa, who do you think they are?” Sandy asked me, snapping me from my thoughts.

“No one worth our time. Come on.” I say, strutting off, but not before I got the feeling one person was staring at me. We got to homeroom Spanish and chatted away with all our friends before Mrs. Ramirez came into the room.

“Clase, cálmate (“class, settle down)!” Mrs. Ramirez had the philosophy to speak in Spanish and have us try and figure out what she saying until she ended up having to tell us anyway. Not sure this was a very useful way of teaching but this what she did.

“Buenos días clase, tenemos un nuevo alumno. Este es Sam Winchester.” (“Good morning class, we have a new student. This is Sam Winchester.”) My head snapped up; it couldn’t be.

“Saluda a Sam.” (Say hello to Sam.)

“Hi, Sam.” A very few students had bothered to say hello to the new student, who was ushered to sit down in the only open seat in the class; next to me.

“Hey, I’m Sam.” He says, sitting down, but not making eye contact with me. I didn’t know what to say so I just kept quiet, hoping he would remember me.

“Do you not…holy shit. Miliana?”

“Hi, Sam,” I say, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” He asks me in surprise.

“I should be asking you the same.”

“You never left Lawrence?” He whispers/asks.

I shake my head. “You know how my Dad felt about a girl being a hunter. He didn’t want me to have to see that life once I reached high school. Said I needed every normal high school experience I could get.”

“Well Miliana Singer, you are far from normal.” He said, causing heat to suddenly appear in my cheeks.

“Sra. Singer, Sr. Winchester, ¿tiene algo que quiera compartir con el resto de la clase? (Ms. Singer, Mr. Winchester, do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?).”

“No Sra. Ramirez (No Mrs. Ramirez)” We both said in unison, our attention now on the lesson.

“¡Bien, entonces ciérralo! (Good, then zip it!)” As the rest of the class went on, I couldn’t help but steal glances from Sam. He was exactly how I remember him but he grew! He must’ve hit a growth spurt somewhere in those six years since I saw him last because he’s a freaking giant now. His hair is longer now too. He occasionally would flip it out of his eyes and it would send a whiff of his cologne and his natural “Sammy scent” as Dean used to call it, my way. His eyes were a mix of green and brown, like the color of the trees right before they begin to change color for the fall. And his smile was a big and bright and contagious as ever.

“Señorita Singer, ¿le gustaría resumir la Constitución española? (Miss Singer, would you like to summarize the Spanish Constitution?).

“Um…” I trail off but a voice spoke up.

“España es una monarquía y trabajan para mostrar la importancia de la libertad, la justicia, la igualdad y el pluralismo politico. (Spain is a monarchy and they work to show the importance of freedom, justice, equality, and political pluralism.)” Sam responded in perfect Spanish, to which everyone in the room took notice of.

“Muy Bueno señor Winchester. (Very good, Mr. Winchester). To which Sam just winked at me. Holy crap, what was happening here? How has he gotten more attractive all these later? And what is he doing in tenth? Wasn’t he supposed to be a freshman? He’s fifteen after all! I don’t know what his game is but I’m going to figure it out and figure out why he’s back in Lawrence. He got out! Why would anyone want to come back here?

The bell rang, indicating the end of the class and the prime time to catch up with Sam. However, with him being so tall, once he grabbed his backpack, he was out the door in a flash.

“This boy!” I said in my head. Keeping up with him was going to be a struggle considering I’m only 5’6. Rushing out the class, I zig-zag through the crowded halls, looking for that floppy head of hair. Finally, on almost the opposite side of campus, there he was. He was lucky to have a top locker but I guess because he’s so big, it makes sense.

“Sam!” I yell, just a few feet away, but quickly catching up.

“Millie, hey.” He said smiling that perfect smile but using my nickname; the only my closest friends and family can call me. It was weird hearing him say it since he feels like a stranger now.

“Miliana,” I tell him.

“What?” He looked a bit stunned that I corrected him.

“It’s Miliana. Only my closest friends and family get to call me Millie and since you left…” I instantly regretted it when the words fell off my lips but there it was.

“Ah yeah, I guess I kind of deserve that, especially since we didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Sam said, slowly nodded his head as he understood why I was hostile.

“Yeah, no offense but your Dad is kind of…” I say but he interrupts me.

“A douche? Yeah, I know.” Sam said, knowing all too well how I felt about how his Dad just ripped him away from me. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, surprised to see you here. Actually, why are you back in Lawrence?”

“Well Dad figured to move closer to home for a while but Dean still loves the hunter life so he and my Dad go out on a lot of cases.”

“Are you left alone a lot?”

“Oh yeah, but I’m going to living close to your Dad. There’s a small little house that is just up the road from where you guys are so I figured I’d stay there.”

“So, you’ll be around more often?” I tried to hide my hopefulness but I knew Sam; he could tell.

“I hope to, at least until graduation.” He grinned at me and my heart fluttered. Stop it, Miliana.

“By the way, how are you a sophomore? You’re fifteen!”

“Oh that. Well, I’m pretty advanced for my age so they set me up as a sophomore.”

“I’d say you are pretty advanced; you speak Spanish fluently!” I comment, still being stunned that he spoke so effortlessly. “Why are you taking a Spanish class if you’re that fluent?”

“Eh, I needed it for credit so I thought it would be the easiest A I could come by. Plus, I have separate assignments than the rest of the class.”

“What?”

“I’m an in-class tutor. When Mrs. Ramirez can’t tutor students in need of some extra attention, she looks to me. Turns out, a lot of the class is struggling so we made a deal; I tutor and learn all her lessons, I get the credit.”

Okay, Sam was so much cooler than I remember him being. He is so sweet and caring and smart and, oh no, I can’t be falling for him. No way, no! We had one little incident when we were kids but that was it; we were kids! We didn’t know what love or crushes were then. I cannot be falling for my childhood friend.

“You good there, Miliana?” Sam said, bringing out me of my thoughts again.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You looked like you were thinking about me shirtless or something.”

That son of a bitch! “What? Pssst. You wish Winchester!”

Sam just chuckled and shook his head but grabbed some more books out of his locker and set them in his bag, patted me on the shoulder, and bid me farewell. Shit, I’m so screwed.

 (Reference for the Spanish Constitution because I don’t plagiarize: Smith, Carr, Spain. Encyclopedia Britannica. Encyclopedia Britannica Inc. 2020 16 August. 2020 18 August. https://www.britannica.com/place/Spain)

Forever tags: @fandom-princess-forevermore @simpleb00x @juju-la-tortue @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams 

Taglist: @tlovescoffee @tykezparkerstark

Taglist requests open! Inbox open! Ask open! Requests open!

[eryiss]

Chapter Seven - Partying

Summary: Laxus Dreyar, prince of Fiore, has been trapped in the town of Magnolia for months by order of his grandfather. After a failed attempt at leaving ends up with the prince injured, his grandfather punishes him by adding a new guard to his retainer team. An arrogant, up-tight, overly confident, handsome bastard named Freed Justine. [Fraxus | Fantasy AU]

Hello. Finally a chapter with nothing to warn you about. It's a miracle. If you're interested, the outfit Freed wears in this is based off of Fire Emblem's character: Arvis. That's all I have to say, so have fun.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. You can find the chapter list here. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Chapter Seven – Partying

Laxus had never been fond of his throne. It was elitist, it was patronising, and it had a fucking uncomfortable lump in the backrest that dug into his spine whenever he sat on it. Thankfully, there wasn't many situations where he was forced to use it, but each time he did need it he was given a very clear reminder as to why he hated it.

The winter festival was such an event.

The blonde was in the gardens of the castle, on a raised stage with the large walls of his home behind him. His grandfather sat beside him, on a larger throne that had been brought out for the event. Before them was a sea of people, assumedly all having come from Magnolia, who were watching as Makarov gave a speech. It was the old man's usual stuff, saying how glad he was that they could all come, wishing them to have a successful and prosperous new year, and saying that they were welcome to let their hair down and have fun. A cheer went up after he said that.

Makarov had created the winter festival before Laxus had been born. It was a weekend where the grounds to the castle were open, as were some of the unimportant rooms on the lower floors. Venders were allowed to set up market-stalls in the garden, amusements were set up to entertain adults and children alike, and it was meant to be a fun end to the year.

Laxus had always enjoyed it. Even if he was forced to sit on his throne as Makarov opened it.

Eyes drifting from the crowd, Laxus saw that his two of his retainers standing to the side of the stage. It was a formality, Laxus needed protection in the chance someone tried to attack. Two of his grandfather's retainers were also standing by the stage to look after the king.

Looking at Evergreen and Bickslow, it felt a little odd that he didn't see Freed with them. The swordsman had been part of Laxus' guard team for nearing six months, and Laxus had gotten used to him just being there. This was the first time Freed hadn't been around for one of Laxus' royal engagements – if this really could be called that, when his bedroom was two minutes away – and the lack of the man's presence was just odd.

He wasn't there on Makarov's orders. Apparently, as part of the festival's entertainment, the king wanted an exhibition fight between his lead retainer and Laxus'. That was why Gildarts wasn't standing beside the stage either, as both he and Freed would be getting ready for their fight.

Laxus wasn't sure why Makarov suddenly wanted this but didn't care enough to question it.

If he was honest, he was excited to watch. Throughout their time working together, Freed had proven himself to be a vicious and skilful fighter but maintained a sense of elegance while doing so; he was like a performer. To show him purposefully showing off would be a sight to behold, more so when Laxus considered how strong an opponent Gildarts was. Laxus honestly wasn't sure how his retainer would faire against him; a fight between a skilled swordsman and a skills mage was always hard to guess the outcome of. It really could go either way, and Laxus was looking forward to seeing how it unfolded.

Despite the retainer not being present, Laxus had seen him earlier in the morning. He had gone to his retainer's quarters to see him before the weekend got too chaotic, as well as to ask if he was nervous about his fight. Freed had, of course, replied by mockingly asking if Laxus had any faith in him, as if her were offended. The faux cockiness of it made Laxus want to see Gildarts obliterate his retainer, and he told that man as much. Freed had laughed at that.

Laxus liked hearing him laugh.

Laxus liked rather a lot about Freed, if he was honest. After they had put their animosity behind them, the prince had started to get to know his retainer. Perhaps at the start, he enjoyed being around Freed because he rejected all formality, and he saw the man as almost a novelty.

But the more he got to know the man, the more he enjoyed him just because of who he was. He had snark to him but could also be compassionate. He had a strong sense of loyalty for those he cared for but was also very quick to call people on their shit when needed. He was good to look at too, both in his handsome features as well as how he held himself. Proud, unashamed and powerful. Laxus found himself fascinated and enthralled by him in pretty much all that he did.

Laxus wasn't blind, he knew what this meant. He had some kind of feelings for his retainer.

It wasn't a crush; that sounded both childish and not enough for what he felt. It also wasn't love; that didn't come quick to someone like Laxus, he was cautious with his emotions. All he knew was that he held some form of passion for the man, and that it wasn't platonic.

The realisation hadn't been as shocking as it perhaps should have been. It was clear from his initial reaction to meeting the man that, when Freed was involved, Laxus developed opinions in a strong way. Freed was a focus for Laxus' passion, both good and bad, and Laxus suspected that the same might be said about Freed's feelings for him. Whenever that thought came to mind, however, Laxus quickly willed it away.

He had been doing that for around two months now, basically immediately after he realised what his feelings for Freed meant.

His hesitance wasn't because he didn't think there was a change that Freed felt for him in the same way. For months they'd consistently gotten along very well. And while their night together hadn't been good – the pleasure being overthrown by how misguided and unhealthy everything had been – it was undeniable that they had slept together, so there was some kind of sexual interest between them. It was entirely possible that Freed had some form of romantic interest in Laxus, but Laxus still thought it best to keep his feelings to himself.

It was for the best. Royalty and romance weren't a good combination, even without the added complications of Freed also being a man as well as being a member of Laxus' staff.

Being friendly with Freed was great, anyway. So why ruin it?

"Well, you've heard enough from me," Makarov concluded, clasping his hand together. "So please, enjoy yourselves. And I truly wish you all a very happy new year."

Laxus was brought back to reality at his grandfather's words and watched as people applauded before the crowd began to disperse. The prince was forced to wait a little while before he could leave his throne, and he sighed in relief when he could.

"Are you ready, your highness," Bickslow grinned, a slight tease in the way he spoke. He apparently found Laxus' discomfort at the situation amusing.

"Fuck off, Bicks," Was all Laxus said.

His title meant that Laxus couldn't enjoy the festival in exactly the same way everyone else could. He needed to be accompanied by his retainers, which wasn't that bad as they were also his friends. He could go to the stalls in the same way other people could, although sometimes vendors would get stressed serving him, so he would often send either Bickslow or Evergreen in his place. The only thing he was banned from doing was getting involved in the carnival style games; it was apparently undignified for a prince to try and catch a wooden duck from a small, fake canal. Who knew?

For the most part, he didn't mind. The games were almost all aimed at children, and the only one he would have wanted to play was a strength tester. And that was only really so he could gloat about beating it to Freed, who wasn't there, so it would be pointless.

He had been excited to spend the winter festival with Freed. But he'd see him after the fight, probably.

Shaking off that idea, Laxus started to walk towards the market area with his retainers. Bickslow, who seemed to adore the winter festival more than any man Laxus had ever met, began to explain all the stalls that had been set up and which ones they absolutely needed to visit. Evergreen grinned a little at her friends overexcited attitude, and occasionally shared a glance with Laxus at Bickslow's expense. The festival usually went like that, and Laxus found himself enjoying it.

Quite a few fond memories had been made here.

As they walked, they passed the 'arena' where Freed and Gildarts would fight. It was cut off by waist-high wooden walls, and the ground inside had been decorated with a scattering of large crates, clumps of bricks and other things that could be hidden behind, destroyed, and used to make the fight more interesting. Two seating stands were set up, as well as a walled platform that Laxus assumed he and his grandfather would be watching from.

The sight of it made Laxus' stomach churn slightly. Both in excitement and nerves for his retainer. Other than simply standing beside Laxus at events, this would be Freed's first public appearance. A lot of people would be basing their opinions on this.

Again, Laxus pushed Freed to the back of his mind. They continued to walk through the market, allowing Bickslow to guide them to wherever he wanted to take them first. Sometimes people moved out of the way for them, and Laxus gave a polite thank you to them all. It really was the least they could do; and he didn't want to ruin anyone's day by conforming to the stereotype of royalty being made up of rude and uncaring people.

He had done that enough as a teenager.

The first stall they arrived at was selling glass ornaments, of which Bickslow brought three. The next sold woodcarvings, and again Bickslow had brought some. By the third stall, which sold a wide range of jams, marmalades and other preserves, Laxus and Evergreen realised that Bicks had waited until the last minute to buy gifts and was trying to make it up now. Neither cared, Bickslow was the biggest shopper out of the three of them and would be getting the most enjoyment from this part of the weekend, so they let him have his fun.

After a little while, Bickslow decided he was finished shopping and they started to browse through the stalls.

"Are either of you getting hungry?" Evergreen asked as they walked. "I've heard that place is amazing."

She was looking at a stall that advertised itself as a 'Chocolate Waterfall.' Laxus had seen one before; a decorative model cliffside with a stream of chocolate acting as a waterfall. It seemed to flow infinity by the use of two small portal spells. People put sweets and fruit under the spray of chocolate, covering it.

"You've never been to one?" Bickslow said, seemingly offended on the stall's behalf. "How is that possible?"

"Because they only happen at events like this," Laxus deadpanned. "And Evergreen usually likes to focus on her job rather than getting distracted by chocolate."

"Well that's not fun," Bickslow ignored the clear insult. "You want us to get you anything, Laxus?"

"Nah, not really into sweets."

It was true, but Laxus had also been given what was essentially a feast for breakfast. He knew that it was so he was full throughout the day, meaning he wouldn't end up eating at the stalls. It was another way for him to preserve the dignity of the royal family; eating a banana covered in chocolate which would end up covering his face and clothes wasn't princely. It was slightly manipulative, but Laxus knew why it happened and didn't care.

"Of course not," A smooth voice said from behind Laxus, and the blonde grinned. "Even a quarter inch of fat appearing somewhere on his body would send our poor prince spirally into a panic."

Laxus turned to greed his final retainer, intending to point out that Freed was just as insistent that he keep himself fit as Laxus was. When he turned, though, the words seemed to die on his tongue as he looked at Freed.

In a word, the retainer looked breath-taking.

He wasn't wearing his usual uniform. Instead, he was dressed in a black and white overcoat, with gold trimmings decorating it. Laxus couldn't see his shirt, and only caught a glimpse of black trousers as the wind flicked at the bottom of his coat. Around his chest and resting against his neck was something akin to a shirt-collar, that looked similar to his overcoat, and had a long cloak flowing behind him, fading from orange to red. His hair was in a high ponytail, giving an unhindered view of his face, and Laxus couldn't seem to look away.

He looked faultless.

"Wow," He found himself saying. "You look…" Nice. Beautiful. "Different."

"I'm shocked you noticed your highness," Freed chuckled. "Your grandfather organised it for me. Apparneltly this is similar to what my opponent will be wearing. More in keeping with what a royal retainer should wear, he claimed."

If that was going to be his regular uniform from now on, Laxus had absolutely no complaints.

"You sure he ain't trying to mess you up in the fight? The cape might fuck you up, he's sneaky like that" Laxus asked, wanting to stay away from topic of what Freed looked like.

"The amount of trust you have for your grandfather is awe-inspiring, it really is," Freed laughed, and Laxus grinned a little. The retainer looked towards Bickslow and Evergreen. "Feel free to leave, if you'd like. I'm sure I can keep him safe before I'm needed."

Neither needed to be told twice, and they started to walk towards the chocolate waterfall immediately. Laxus fought back the urge to roll his eyes, instead looking to Freed. He would let the 'I can keep him safe' comment go; he could take a little dig at his capabilities if he was going to spend some one-on-one time with Freed. Even now that was something of a rarity.

"You feeling okay for later," He asked, and both men started to walk again.

"I'll be fine," Freed assured him. "I'm not one to shy away from crowds and it's not as if the fight will put me in any danger of death. Admittedly I'd prefer to win, but the only think in repercussion if I lose is my pride being damaged."

"And you've got enough of that to spare," Laxus smirked.

"Indeed," Freed agreed with a small laugh. "Gildarts is a fine fighter, so I doubt I'll get through it without at least a scratch or two, but I expect we'll be evenly matched. You weren't worried about me, were you Laxus?"

"Course I was. Gildarts is gonna kick your ass," Laxus grinned. "And you fall like a fucking leaf. Just a little punch from him and you'll be knocked out."

"And yet when we fought, you could barely touch me. What does that say about you?"

Laxus chuckled, and the two of them continued to walk through the market, going back towards the castle where the crowds were thinning now. Laxus was glad that they were surrounded by less and less people, as he had never been too fond of crowds. He was always on display around people who didn't work in the castle and, as much as he liked the winter festival, it was essentially two days without any break from being around people.

Freed apparently seemed to know this, as rather than milling around the few stalls this close to the castle, he instead led them to the stage that Laxus had previously been seated on. There was a small space behind it, giving them a small amount of privacy.

"We can go inside, if you want," Freed spoke, voice low. "If you feel like you'll be burned out."

"Nah, I'm fine. A break is nice though, thanks," Laxus smiled.

Laxus was leaning against the back of the stage, muscles relaxing. Freed stood opposite him, leaning against the castle wall, and Laxus couldn't help but notice the closeness between them both. He didn't particularly mind, not when Freed was looking like that with a relaxed, calm expression painted across his features. God he looked good.

"You looking forward to the new year?" He asked, as it was the only thing he could think of.

"I am," Freed nodded, looking perhaps contemplative. "It'll be nice to start a year in a place I'm somewhat happy with."

"You weren't happy last year?"

"A year ago I was still locked in a cage," Freed said, and Laxus went to speak. Freed cut him off before he could. "Rightfully so. Though at the time I didn't think that way. Ironically, being in the cells was the best winter I'd had in a few years."

Laxus didn't ask what Freed was alluding to. He knew. Freed had disclosed what his past before the castle was. Homelessness, having to make a choice between eating and having shelter. Having to deal with the loss of his family. What was worse was how pragmatic he had been well telling Laxus; it wasn't an emotional moment; he simply stated a list of facts that had happened to him. It was no different to how someone would explain what they had done on a regular day. It had been almost surreal to the prince.

But he could defiantly understand why a castle cell could be seen as the better of two evils.

Looking at Freed, there was a shadow of sadness across his features. Freed was a private person with his feelings, just like Laxus was, so it was a testament to how close they had become that Freed could be somewhat vulnerable in front of him.

Laxus wanted to take Freed's chin in his hand and comfort him.

He was tempted to actually do it.

"But this will be… it will be quite nice in comparison."

"Well, hopefully it's as good as you want it to be," Laxus said softly. "And, y'know, if there's anything I can do to help it be good, just say so, yeah."

Freed gave a small nod, and Laxus was reminded of the closeness between the two of them. Not out of fear, nor lust, this time. It just would be easy to hold Freed now, barely a movement to scoop him in his arms and kiss him. Perhaps even kiss the slight look of sadness off his face, but of course he couldn't do that.

He hadn't thought this might be a big deal for Freed. The New Year was a large holiday – perhaps the largest celebrated by the kingdom – and it would be the first time Freed had been celebrating it in his new position. His new life.

And Laxus had been occupying himself with relatively unimportant assessments of who the man was to him.

He had been acting selfishly.

Pretty much since they met, actually. He had focused on himself. Not Freed. Not really. And that wasn't fair.

He went to apologise, to say that he sometimes got so caught up in his own head – his own desires – and that he forgot about the struggles of others. He was going to say that he should have been more sympathetic towards Freed, throughout the entire time they had known each other, because the world didn't revolve around Laxus and he shouldn't act like it did. He was going to, but he found that he couldn't.

Because Freed had kissed him.

It was odd. It was different to the last time. That was a hazy mess, the height of their antagonism towards each other. That had been angry and heated and aggressive. This was different.

It was soft, and perhaps tentative. And it was almost instinctive that Laxus should lean into it, to return it, to stand up properly and to carefully wrap his arms around the man's waist. He leant down, tilting his head slightly and moving his chin to deepen it however he could. He felt one of Freed's hand resting on his bicep but paid no attention to it. He allowed his eyes to close as he relaxed into it.

Both an eternity and no time at all had passed. They pulled apart, bodied gently flushed against each other and looking deep into each other's eyes.

All memories of their previous kiss had been dispelled. Laxus had been holding onto them, a small remnant of what a possible relationship between them could be. But that was a stupid mistake caused by alcohol and anger, this was something so much more. So much better, that the previous kiss was nothing in comparison.

Neither spoke. They seemed to be entranced by each other.

Neither dared move, do anything. They were only interrupted by a small crackling sound.

"The exhibition fight between the king and prince's retainers will begin in five minutes," Mirajane's voice was magically propelled throughout the garden. "For all those interested, please begin to make your way to the viewing area."

A moment passed between them before they reacted.

Laxus slowly removed his arms from around Freed's waist, who moved his hand from the prince's arm. They looked at each other, neither knowing how to proceed from what had just happened. Neither wanting to break from what had happened.

"I," Freed spoke, voice soft. "I should probably get ready. I was told that's my cue."

The prince wanted to argue that. He wanted to say that they should ignore the pointless fight he had been forced into. Either to continue what they had been doing, or to at least discuss what it meant. But he knew they couldn't. If a prince and his retainer were lost, guards would be looking everywhere to find them. They couldn't talk about anything serious before they were found, and if someone saw them kissing then who knew what would happen.

"Sure," Laxus nodded, a little flushed and voice having a small shake. "I'll erm, I'll see you later, right?"

"Of course," Freed nodded.

"Right," Laxus smiled a little. "Well, good luck."

"Thank you," Freed smiled. "I'll see you soon."

Laxus didn't know why he waited a little while after Freed left to start walking to the arena. The walk there was hard to describe, he both felt as though he were walking on air and as if something bad was going to happen. It was almost indescribable. He tried to focus on the fact that Freed had kissed him, that it was a good thing, but it might not be. Maybe Freed would think it was a mistake, maybe not. He had no idea. He had no idea what was going on, and almost felt as though his body was taking control while his mind tried and failed to keep up with what had just happened.

Despite not knowing what was going to happen, he found himself smiling slightly. He didn't know why.

He climbed the stairs to the makeshift royal box that had been constructed, taking his seat overlooking the fighting area. He assumed Freed and Gildarts were in a small hut that had been made at the side of the arena. His grandfather was also in the hut, he wanted to be the one who introduced the event, given it was his idea.

The next few minutes passed in a blur, with Laxus going through seemingly every possible outcome of his kiss with Freed. From them starting a relationship to Freed feeling inclined to quit as the retainer as their kiss was inappropriate.

That left a dull concern in the pit of Laxus' stomach.

Makarov left the small hut to the sound of applause again, which of course he lapped up. Laxus watched intently, again trying to distract himself from a feeling he was scared to confront. That was harder when, following the king, both Gildarts and Freed left the hut.

Even form a distance, Freed looked beautiful.

"Thank you all very much for this welcome," Makarov began, his voice being magically propelled like Mirajane's had. "And I can assure you we'll be starting the main even very soon. But if you all don't mind, I want to explain why I've organised this fight. Because it's more than just a fight between some of our strongest soldiers, it's actually something of a way to pass the torch."

Laxus, who had been focusing on his grandfather's words to distract himself, frowned. What did that mean?

"I want to prove to you all that both these men are strong and capable enough to look after this kingdom. You're going to be seeing a lot more of Mr Justine here," He motioned to Freed. "And I want you all to know you'll be in safe hands."

Laxus wanted to groan. His grandfather's vague theatrics weren't appreciated. What the fuck was he building up to?

"Because, my friends, I have some news to tell you," Makarov continued, his voice a little sad. That didn't happen often. "This will be the last time that I attend this festival as your king."

He didn't know why, but Laxus eye's shot to Freed. For comfort, for an explanation, for any form of calmness. Freed was looking back at him, panicked and clearly taken unaware. He didn't know either.

This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not today. Not after what just happened.

"The years I've been your king have been the best of my life," Makarov was still talking. "But nothing can last forever, and as much as I'll deny it to my doctors, I'm getting old. So I hereby announce I will be defecting my throne to my grandson, Prince Laxus Dreyar. He is more than capable of looking after you all. He will take this kingdom to new places, places of prosperity and greatness. I hope you are all as excited as I am for the new chapter in Fiore's history, led by my grandson.

"So please, give respect and applause to your future Knight of the Realm, Freed Justine," He gestured to Freed, before moving his arm towards Laxus. "And your future king, Laxus Dreyar."

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

[ladyoutlier]

A Demon’s Demons

In which Aziraphale and Crowley go on a day holiday of their own.

[Read on AO3] | [Chapter 2]

Chapter 3: The Monster of the Lake

The aroma of eggs, sausage, and bacon the next morning awoke Crowley in a very confused state before all the pieces began to click back into place. A walk through the park. A literal Hell of a lot of pain. Spilling quite too much info in the heat of the moment. And Aziraphale by his side as he drifted off. Things were different today, weren’t they? Much different than yesterday or ten years ago or six thousand. Well, he’d have to face it all eventually. Might as well be now. He forced his eyes open.

Aziraphale sat on the same chair as the night before, facing Crowley with a plate on his lap. Upon seeing that the demon was awake, his face blushed pink and he turned back to his desk.

“Ah, good morning, Crowley. I wasn’t sure how long you would sleep for. You have a bit of a record for oversleeping.”

“Be a bit rude if I slept for a decade and made you sit in this room the whole time.”

“Well, I appreciate you considering the value of my time.” The angel took a bite of eggs. “Would you like some? I couldn’t leave obviously, so I miracled myself breakfast. Could do the same for you if you like.”

“Not hungry.”

“You never are.”

“You think of a plan last night? Cause my mind was elsewhere in dreamland.”

Aziraphale set his plate on the desk and turned back to Crowley. Half of his breakfast still remained on it. Never a good sign when the angel turned away from his meal. “I did a lot of thinking.”

“And?”

“You’re not going to like this.”

“Haven’t liked any of all this so far, so what else is new?”

“Basically, I’ve come to the conclusion that all of your Hellish actions are done to, ah, spite God for putting you in the situation you are in.”

“So far so accurate.”

“But then your immoral acts make you feel as though you deserve to have Fallen which thus fuels your refusal to forgive yourself.”

The demon’s expression stiffened, hiding whether Aziraphale had said an accurate statement or not. “And how’s that a plan to fix this exactly?”

"Well, because Crowley, everything you've done has had a positive effect despite your best effort to do evil. Which means that you shouldn’t feel negatively about them."

"Really? I beg to differ."

"Go ahead,” The angel leaned back in his chair. “List off as many of your acts of evil as you want, and I'll point out the good in them."

"How 'bout the time I took down all of London's phone lines?"

"You kept people off their mobile phones while driving and caused others to visit loved ones in person that they otherwise would've just briefly spoke to in a conversation void of face-to-face connection."

"That's a bit of a stretch, don't you think?"

"Not at all. The irritation you caused people was heavily outweighed by the strengthening of relationships and averted vehicular accidents."

Crowley sat up on the couch and leaned back against it. So it was going to be like this, huh? A back and forth. Regarding his torments of mankind, his list was endless. He was ready to do this all day if Aziraphale allowed.

"Fine. I've caused so much trouble that you can have that one. French Revolution, guillotines."

"You said you had no involvement in that! The humans did all that on their own."

"Well, they did, but I took credit for it. That has to count for something."

"It certainly does not. You claiming ownership for that mess in your reports to Hell hardly influences human behavior."

"Ah, but there's no positive of me doing it. Stealing the credit is straight up wrong."

"Seriously now? I'm the one that's stretching things?"

The demon had said that one mostly just to rile Aziraphale up. It was a fun thing to poke at considering he had almost gotten himself discorporated during it because he had been a bit peckish. He knew that one wasn’t a win. It was just fun to say. But enough games. He needed a point in this competition.

"Loch Ness Monster."

"What?"

"I started the good ol' rumor of Nessie. Caused quite the panic. People too terrified to swim in the lake. Nothing even in there. The human mind's a great thing. Just torments itself if you let it."

There was no debating that one. Crowley was sure of it. Causing mass hysteria over a nonexistent monster. That was as evil as you get without going around murdering folks. And oh, the inaccuracies to those rumors. Quite damaging towards humanity’s perception of the natural world. A stain on a place that had once been wholesome.

"Loch Ness? You believe you've caused more harm than good with Loch Ness? As much as I dislike the spread of misinformation, I can't agree with that." Aziraphale stood up, straightened his coat, and took a few steps towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Crowley moved to the end of the couch. This wasn’t how the back and forth went. They’d go on for hours talking but never actually do anything about what they talked about. Today really was different.

"We are going to Scotland, so I can prove just how wrong you are."

“That’s rather impulsive, isn’t it?”

“Would you rather stay here all day?”

“Nah. Wanna go to Scotland. Let’s go to Scotland. Not like we got a major problem or anything like that to deal with,” Crowley replied with a very sarcastic shrug.

“This is solving the problem. If I prove you right, you’ll see what I mean. If I don’t, well, we’ll of had a nice day out.”

“Hope you don’t plan on driving there. Don’t feel like going through traffic for ten hours there and another ten back.”

“Not at all. I would just like to straighten up some things before we go.”

“Going to use miracles on traveling convenience, angel? See why you were being told off for frivolous usage.”

“This whole ordeal we have going on is more than enough reason for me to be using miracles, and even if that wasn’t the case, I can use as many miracles as I desire now that I’m not associated with Heaven.”

“Where was that logic when I was lying on the pavement yesterday?”

“I’d still prefer not to have witnesses, dear.” Aziraphale opened the backroom door. “Now, come on. Let me check the shop before we go.”

*

They appeared somewhere along the A82 near River Enrick when they arrived in Scotland. After straightening their clothes that were ruffled by the wind their displacement of the air during their teleportation had created, they found themselves in a rather desolate area, hidden from any onlookers. A short hike up a hill later and they found themselves at Loch Ness Centre & Exhibition. It was the standard tourist attraction, equipped with a hotel, a gift shop, and a supposingly educational building that delved into the complex history of the very made up monster.

Herds of families with energetic tots and moody teens scurried from building to building, desperate to get their money’s worth on this last minute, end of summer holiday. The children hugged plush Nessies and held colorful balloons. Some ran around amuck, seemingly unfazed by the possibility of parental wrath. Other mothers and fathers, with much better control over their offspring, walked either with their hands linked with their child’s or with the kid sat up on their shoulders.

A blue bus with the name Nessieland on the side was parked outside the visitor center, and many groups of tourists, especially those with young children, scurried from the gift shop onto it. There was giggling and excitable screams and the sound of suitcase wheels on pavement  and all the noises one would expect from a place like this that drowned out any sense of peace of mind. Simply, the place was more like that of Disneyland than the setting of a monster flick.

One father, chasing a rather rowdy kid, brushed past Aziraphale and Crowley as they approached. The man muttered a quick apology before continuing to run after his child. If anything was left of Crowley’s influence here, it was the pure chaotic energy of having so many people in such a small place.

“So, dear, where is the evil here?” Aziraphale asked, giving Crowley a side glance. “All I see is happy families making pleasant memories.”

“Look, you should’ve seen this place in the 30s.” Crowley stepped up onto the curb and looked back at the angel. “Monster hunters and distraught locals. Fear running rampant. Just ‘cause it’s not like that now doesn’t mean anything. Set the ball rolling for all this way back in the sixth century. Just because the past handful of decades have been pleasant doesn’t right all that.”

“Are you actually sure anyone was ever really terrified? There was never any real monster, so no one was ever in any real danger. Seems like people were attracted to the idea of it for the marvel more than anything else.”

They strolled down the sidewalk absentmindedly as they talked. A young boy tapped on the window of the hotel as they passed, waving to his mother inside. The ice cream cone he was licking dripped down the glass.

“You can’t just do this. Write off everything I’ve ever done no matter how evil and destructive to mankind it was.”

“Crowley, if you had ever done something pure evil, I would be the first one to point it out. In fact, if you were that heinously evil, our relationship probably would’ve ended the day it began.”

“I think,” Crowley began, brushing over that last part. “That you’re being completely delusional.”

“Me? Delusional?” Aziraphale scuffed. “I believe only Serganent Shadwell has said a more inaccurate description of me.”

“You are though. You’ve gone on and on. And I’ve played along. Listing small things here and there. But I was the one behind the whole apple thing, remember? Made all of them Fall just like me.” The demon waved out to the crowds of tourists around them.  “Isn’t that just horrible? Couldn’t go down alone, so I brought them all with me. You can’t say that’s a good thing.”

“The day we met in Eden I remember you asked me something.” Aziraphale stopped walking and looked to Crowley. “What if I did the right thing with the whole ‘eat the apple’ business? Well, it’s taken me some time to come to the answer to that question, and I do think you did the right thing by it.”

“Right thing? Even if it was the right thing, that doesn’t make it a good one.”

“It does. It really does. Can’t you see the beauty behind it? The curiosity? The awe? Don’t you remember dear Warlock’s face that first night he looked through a telescope? How purely innocent and heartwarming his expression was? Humanity’s Fall was hardly as painful as yours. They fell onto a pillow if anything. Knowledge has been nothing but a gift for them.” The angel smiled as he let out a small huff of a laugh. “You’ve spent the past six thousand years trying to do evil in the most good way possible. How does that not show the nature of your character?”

Crowley did the living being equivalent of a computer blue screening after some program or another got caught in an infinite loop of not responding. The spinning cursor of death was practically visible in the lens of his sunglasses. He stood frozen, mouth agape with a word on the tip of his tongue. This whole direct method Aziraphale was trying was much too world shattering. They were wired to work indirectly. That’s how it had been for the past six millennia. This new angle the angel was taking was really messing with his demonic identity.

As he whirled back to life and his brain conducted a manual restart, Crowley merely turned around and hastily entered the gift shop they had stopped in front of without giving Aziraphale a reply. Of course, they had to stay near each other. That was the whole condition this Sins problem presented. And perhaps Crowley should have considered this, but that program hadn’t rebooted yet. Still, the demon didn’t seize up in pain as he entered the shop because Aziraphale had the sense to follow him in.

“Want a shirt?” Crowley asked once inside. “Or how about a mug? I know you like mugs.”

He was trying to change the subject, and Aziraphale decided he was going to let him. He had put the thought in Crowley’s head. That was good enough for now. They were hardly on a time restraint after all, and he really didn’t want to make Crowley miserable.

“Perhaps, if they have something with a bit more charm to it.” He lifted up a cup from a shelf, raised his nose to it, and set it back down. “I really can’t imagine anything with the text I love Nessie sitting around the bookshop.”

“Ah, that limits your selection by a whole lot. Maybe a postcard then.”

They wandered about the store for a bit, slipping past other customers and picking up the odd item here and there. Crowley, with a dubious smile, held a stuffed Nessie and waved its little flipper at Aziraphale before tucking the thing back where he found it. Perhaps the plush winked at the angel as he passed, or it could’ve simply been a trick of the light.

They slid past another family with a fair share of munchkins as they circled around to the other side of the store. The gift shop simply was too small for the amount of people trying to cram themselves into it, and it was making the place a tad on the uncomfortable side. Or maybe it just felt that way to two celestial beings that valued their personal space.

In the end, Aziraphale settled on a book detailing the history of the Loch Ness Monster rumor. It wasn’t a book he would normally get, and he could simply ask Crowley to tell him the history since he had been the one behind it, but hearing it from a human perspective had its own appeal. And maybe Crowley’s involvement is what inclined the purchase. It would paint the whole book in a new light. Not that he handled the purchase. For some reason, when they were together, the demon always ended up paying for things.

“Would you look at that,” Crowley said, gesturing to a flier as the cashier finalized the payment. “Place offers private cruises. Think they might have one mysteriously open for today? Because for some odd reason, I do.”

“If there is one available,” Aziraphale began with a stern glare. “I’d hope it’s not because whoever previously booked it suddenly found themselves in some trouble.”

“Nah, they probably just discovered a winning lotto ticket amongst their things.”

“And you still have the nerve to refute your inner good.”

“Greed is a sin, angel.”

Crowley took back his card and Aziraphale his book, and the two of them left the store, leaving behind a rather confused cashier who really didn’t understand anything of the conversation he had just heard.

An hour later, Loch Ness was more mythical than it had ever been with an angel and a demon enjoying a boat ride on its open waters. What had been a spontaneous visit to prove a point had turned into a full on enjoyable day out. The lake was calm, with the boat causing deeper ripples in the supposedly monster-infested waters than those naturally there. The occasional sailboat dotted the surface around them, and the steep Scottish hills surrounding the lake provided a healthy green to the landscape. Really, it was absolutely peaceful.

Aziraphale and Crowley sat on the upper deck of the boat as it slowly drifted about, the hum of the motor hardly noticeable. Urquhart Castle passed by on the starboard side. A few tourists visiting the historical site waved to them as they passed. Aziraphale, of course, happily waved back. Crowley, well, couldn’t be bothered.

“We should get out more often,” the demon said, stretching out in the sun. “As enjoyable as walking the same paths in St. James Park can be, I like being reminded of the rest of the world.”

“I have been rather settled in London for a long time,” Aziraphale agreed. “Have you put any thought into what I said earlier, dear?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, and I’m still not all that fond of it.”

“Why? Why would you having done good over all these years be a bad thing? You don’t have to be evil on Hell’s behalf any longer.”

“Yeah, and you don’t have to be good on Heaven’s either, but that doesn’t stop you from lending a helping hand where you can.”

“I try to spread good into the world because it is what I enjoy doing.”

“And you don’t think I enjoy being evil?”

“No, I don’t. I think you enjoy being mischievous which is entirely different. It can still be devious, but typically those affected are only inconvenienced and perhaps even helped by the end of it.” Aziraphale smiled.

“Oh, give me the strength to not jump off this boat right now. Please, I beg you.”

“I highly advise you to not do that. With your dependence on me, you might just end up drowning yourself.”

“Could’ve just said I’d ruin my clothes. Would’ve had the same effect.”

“Well, there is that too.” The angel furrowed his brows. “I don’t completely understand why you’re fighting me on this. Isn’t it easier to forgive yourself for Falling if you know you have hardly caused turmoil here on Earth?”

“No, it’s not at all easier. If everything I’ve done has been all happy-go-lucky goodness, then all that does is hammer the nail in deeper that I shouldn’t have Fallen in the first place.” Crowley leaned away from Aziraphale. “Which really pisses me off.”

“Perhaps those are emotions you should be feeling. Ones that you need to face instead of continue to ignore.”

“You telling me it’s okay to be pissed at God?”

“I—well—um—given the circumstances, I think She would understand. You’d hardly be the first to have taken that tone with the Almighty.”

“I beg to differ on that.”

“What I mean is that many people blame God for hardships, and She forgives them for it. She forgives all that ask.”

“Really now?”

“Has any other demon asked to be forgiven besides you?”

“How would I know that?”

“Given the actions of your ex-coworkers, I think not. And I’ve already said, I think what holds you back is your own forgiveness, Crowley. The Almighty forgave you the moment you asked.”

Crowley sneered and looked out to the water. The boat continued on, steered by the oblivious captain below them. The remains of  Urquhart Castle shrank in the distance. Aziraphale took a deep breath and straightened up.

“I only say these things because I care about you, dear,” he began. “But I understand if this is something too difficult to face. It’s like unmasking an unhealed wound, and I’m sure even just discussing it with me has been causing you distress. If you really want me to stop pushing you on this I will.”

“What?” Crowley looked back to him. “And have me stuck at your side for every waking moment for eternity? Is that the plan?”

“There are far worse people to be around. If I had to pick someone to be joined at the hip with, I would certainly choose you anyway. I don’t much like acting like an instigator. Pushing and prodding you to do something you don’t want to. I think I’ve done enough of it lately.”

“So that’s just it then? We just always stick together?”

“Until you wish to try something else. I’ll let you take lead on this. However you want to handle this Sins problem will be how we handle it.”

“Look, I’m not against this whole talking thing. Let’s just take it a bit easier. At this point, I’ve spent more time playing the part of the hellspawn demon than that of the holy angel.”

“Of course. I understand. But you are willing to make an effort then?”

“Yeah. Just ‘cause you want me to.”

The boat began to turn course back around. They had gone out as far as the trip allowed and soon enough would return back to the port where all the other cruise boats were docked. There had been progress made today, even if it was minor. Still, progress was progress. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world. Although a visitor that was waiting for them at the dock certainly didn’t feel that way.

[Chapter 4 Coming Soon!]

[uozlulu]

Not sure how long Viz had this offer up but I’ve got until tomorrow to read all of this for free so here we go~

BnHA/MHA chapters 122 – 162 reaction and spoilers. I also eluded to some Black Clover manga spoilers but I tried to be vague about it. I also mentioned One Piece once but nothing actually spoilers I don't think

I sorted everything by chapter under the read more cut

Chapter 122

This chapter appears to pick up towards the end of season three. Present Mic being hyped to teach the kids still gives me life

If Hound Dog loves soccer does he play it like a guy or like a dog or does it like all depend on his mood?

Chapter 123

Must be awkward knowing you’ve seen your senpai naked on national TV

lol “His [Mirio’s] face is a good one. Easy to draw.”

Chapter 125

I like that Overhaul is kind of a look at what Crazy Diamond could be if it was wielded by a proper villain and not just some chaotic teenager

Chapter 126

Yagi’s got some solid reasons for not being on board with this whole let’s send the sixteen-year-olds to war idea, but it also cracks me up we’re getting peanut gallery commentary from the other teachers in the teachers’ office in the background of the panels.

lol “Three, it’d be awkward for me” but also another solid reason

”..you’ve got to make him smile” “He’s got a lot of respect for humor” something something King Kai

Tickle Hell. Why WHY are you like this, Horokoshi?

Of course Sir Nighteye’s a Capricorn. Of course he is.

Chapter 131

Let’s be perfectly honest here, with Yagi’s body the way it is, an early death is inevitable. The gruesome part though makes me curious how an upcoming event in the manga is going to pass and if maybe that will be when Sir Nighteye’s foresight will come to pass. It would also make sense since the manga feels currently (in the 240’s) like it’s about to shift and evolve as a story, like a potential half way point is looming

Also, this chapter lends insight into why Midoriya is telling us this story as a narrator. Given whatever’s about to happen it makes sense that he would want to lay everything out to the next successor of One for All. It only strengthens my theory that the end of the manga is Midoriya looking at the reader and offering us a chance to become his successor in some manner.

Chapter 132

Tamaki’s quirk is basically you are what you eat. I’m screaming. lol

Chisaki’s plan kind of reminds me how in a way Black Clover and BnHA are tackling some similar questions and themes. There’s a hierarchy that’s existed for generations and there are people who want to upend it. However a key difference is Asta is a driving force for changing the system, which he begins to understand more and more as he goes along, which is I think why we’re starting to see a shift in narrative with the story’s current arc. Meanwhile, Midoriya is trying to preserve the current hierarchy, which while being questioned by the villains, is not really questioned by the heroes (at least not yet). It’s interesting to watch the similarities and differences in Tabata and Horokoshi’s approaches to questioning and challenging concepts like tradition, system, structure, and inequality.

I already know what Eri’s power does and how she’s basically the X-Men mutation cure plot point, so that actually kind of helps here I think. Thank goodness Kirishima’s quirk is basically a defense against needles (that must have been a pain at the doctor’s office for all adults involved as a kid)

Chapter 135

I love Tamaki ngl

Chapter 136

Even though they’re being more blatant in this chapter, I do like that once it’s revealed that Sir Nighteye saw how Yagi will die, it’s part of the motivation for why he does some of what he does like being on the fence at first with Midoriya in terms of acceptance, calling Midoriya’s desire to want to do more for Eri when he met her arrogance, trying to play things as safe as possible, etc…etc… and now he’s reluctant to use his quirk and it all comes back to foreseeing his good friend/mentor/hero’s death even if it’s been six years since

I like that Aizawa is taking the track of basically he knows Midoriya is a hero of a Jump manga so they might as well work together on this because he already knows Midoriya will just run off and try to solve this problem since it’s personal for him. I also kind of hope letting Aizawa help is part of the track the narrative takes because I think actually Midoriya could learn a lot from observing Aisawa up close in a non-school setting about patience, strategy, and timing as well. It might even help Midoriya with his quirk problems.

Chapter 137

Actually enlisting Kirishima, Uraraka, Asui, and Midoriya to help retrieve Eri is probably a good idea considering what the kids were able to do when it was time to rescue Bakugou a while back. While it isn’t ideal asking sixteen-year-olds to take on responsibilities of adults, this is a task this group of kids has shown they are well suited to. Even Asui who was not a direct participant in the rescue but could size up the situation for what it was and make sure the adults knew what was about it happen. Knowing when to go for help is as important as being a helper. The group can benefit from her maturity.

I like that Nejire is using her hair as a scarf

Chapter 138

Gung Ho! Pretty Yure 10! Sure sounds like a play on Futari wa Pretty Cure

Chapter 139

I wonder if Mirio had to get in contact with someone whose quirk increased hair growth so they could get enough hair to make that fabric.

Chapter 141

I can’t wait to see Tamaki’s quirk animated. I want to see this kraken thing in all its glory

I like how in the story about why the underlings joined Hassaikai it continues the theme of how there’s so much wrong with the structure of the world. Like these guys, just like a few others from season three, found themselves sliding down the hierarchy until they were on the streets and at the bottom. Then comes Chisaki who gives them what the hero and common world won’t provide. Of course they will be loyal to him. It also illustrates why Tamaki can’t understand it. It’s not brain washing, Chisaki saved them from the streets in a society that doesn’t care once you hit rock bottom. It reminds me of that guy who could copy himself last season who didn’t realize he was damaging himself mentally in the process until he created an irreversible mental illness. The heroes would want nothing to do with that and so he had no logical place to go but villainy. The way the villains are going about fixing the situation is of course villainous, but I like that the narrative keeps showing us that the villains do have appoint, that their society is indeed broken and in need of some kind of repair. It’ll be interesting to see if the story gets to a point in which the heroes in turn begin to realize this. Or perhaps they won’t be able to realize it until the tables turn since they’re on the top of the hierarchy and don’t really analyze what’s in the shadows. It’s like I was saying a few chapters ago. While Midoriya, like Asta in Black Clover starts out as an outsider who wishes he could be on the inside, Midoriya as he becomes an insider, loses some of that outside perspective while Asta retains it. Even after meeting Endeavor and learning of his hidden villany, Midoriya doesn’t really question if other Endeavors exist in the hero world and the narrative doesn’t really go there either whereas in Black Clover there’s a constant theme of the nobility having a lot of problems and while some are starting to come around, there’s always another asshole to uncover, to challenge. One Piece does this too. There’s the Celestial Dragons and the Marines and once one problematic person gets their just deserts five more show up, but One Piece always tries to kill the evil dream rather than the bad guy for the most part and try to have them learn something if possible, and show that growth and change in society is a multi-level, multi-person effort. Anyway, it’s interesting how these manga all kind of tackle similar things in different ways and this is getting to be too big of a bullet point, but I should expand on this thought sometime properly.

Chapter 142

I think it’s interesting when we run into linguistic nuance in this series. Like for example the yakuza guys from the previous boss’ era clarifying that there are villains that have come into their yakuza group since Chisaki took over and started using the name Overhaul. Even though yakuza do bad things, there’s a distinction, at least to them, between themselves and villains.

Chapter 151

Honestly I would be the threat of STDs and STIs would put Chisaki off sex entirely come to think of it

Chapter 158

The thing is even if you destroy the quirk factor humans will still find yet another hierarchy to create. It’s what we do.

Chapter 159

Then again now that we’ve proven that Sir Nighteye’s quirk can be wrong (which honestly makes sense since the future should be fluid like time) then maybe I was wrong earlier in thinking that Yagi might just die coming up here sooner than later. Though I do know he will eventually die. Because he’s the mentor and because he’s probably like 50 years old anyway so by the time Midoriya gets to a point in which he’s passing on One for All, it’s probably unlikely that Yagi’s still living. Unless I’m wrong about that too and the manga isn’t ending on Midoriya telling his successor enough information to make an informed decision of course.

Chapter 160

Oh good. Spinner learned how to drive from video games.

Honestly surprised Chisaki didn’t consider the fact that when he talked about getting rid of all quirks he was basically threatening the League of Villains with possibly the biggest possible threat out there so of course Tomura was going to neutralize him instead of make him some kind of weirdo martyr.

Chapter 161

I love how Rock Lock’s baby has such a Rock Lock expression their face

Chapter 162

Mirio mentions being the “final hero” and it makes me wonder since Yagi gave Midoriya his quirk instead of Mirio if perhaps that shifted things so Midoriya will be this final hero. Or perhaps Final Hero is idek Mirio’s eventually vigilante name or something. Lots of options

[embaasan-blog]

Skin Ch. 8 - Seeing Stars (Sousuke/Kouhai Fanfic)

Fandom: Notice Me Senpai Rating: Mature Summary: Sousuke and Hinata have always been inseparable - as two halves to a whole, they have shared everything - from the grief at their mother’s disappearance to the face that belongs to them both. But the two of them are starved for attention and when their elite school opens its gates to the first female student in its history, the two of them are drawn in by her girlish charm. Now piqued against each other, Sousuke is left tormented and grappling with promises he can no longer keep, while Hinata’s virtuous facade is slipping, to reveal an increasingly warped mind. Notes: I know I only put the last chapter up a couple of days ago but I wanted to get this out while I could... My weekends have been so busy lately! As always, enjoy this installment and if, like me, you prefer AO3 for reading, the story is also available there.

| Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight |

The world began to spin frantically with Sousuke at the center, bending his vision and turning the scene into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Everything was moving so slowly. Sprawled on her knees and clutching her own mouth was Kouhai-chan, trembling beneath the towering figure in front of her. Blood trickled from her fist and each tooth was dyed in streaks of crimson.

“Hinata!” Sousuke roared, pouncing at his brother.

The twins crashed into the nearest wall, spinning in the fray and becoming one. As they wrestled for dominance it became more difficult to tell them apart or determine which one had the edge over the other. Hinata was frail but impassioned, fighting back furiously with every last ounce of energy he had. The grin on his face was sadistic; his eyes were wide with unmasked hysteria; and his hair, now thin and lifeless, fell around his face chaotically, giving him the impression of a wild animal. Hinata was gone - so far gone that Sousuke hesitated as he tried to restrain him, wondering whether or not to hit back. That split-second hesitation was all Hinata had needed to fling his younger brother onto the ground, where he leaped onto him and began pummeling with all his might.

Sousuke could only defend himself. Every time he tried to raise his fist, he was gripped with guilt so consuming that images began to flash through his mind of the night that his father had broken his ribs.

“Stop this, Hinata!” he yelled, grabbing his brother’s wrists, “You’re insane!”

To his left, he saw Kouhai-chan stand, her face a mask of determination. She ran down the corridor towards the faculty room. Sousuke could hear footsteps and doors opening around them. The few people left in the school, unafraid of the incoming downpour, were coming to see what was going on.

“This is all your fault!” Hinata wailed. “I heard you! I know that you love her!”

Sousuke froze, letting Hinata slip from his grasp. He began to slap at Sousuke’s chest pathetically, a sob escaping his mouth.

“I just want to go back to normal,” Sousuke said calmly. His jaw was beginning to throb painfully.

“We can never go back to normal!” Hinata shrieked with frenzied eyes dancing all over Sousuke’s baffled face. “You betrayed me!”

Hinata grabbed Sousuke’s head and smashed it against the wooden floorboards. It rattled Sousuke’s brain and, half delirious, he had a vision that he was being beaten by himself. He vision wavered with the onset of pained tears, making Hinata appear like his own reflection in a dirty mirror. Nausea bubbled up in his stomach and his skull felt like it was being wrenched apart.

“Stop…” Sousuke croaked, twisting his body from beneath Hinata in agony.

Hinata cackled ominously. The sound of footsteps was getting louder now; there was a drove coming, from the direction of the faculty office, accompanied by orders to stay away.

“I know everything,” said the sinister whisper close to Sousuke’s ear. “Everything. If I can’t have her, nobody can. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

Suddenly, someone was dragging Hinata by the collar, wrenching him away from Sousuke. His body became as rigid and pliable as a rag-doll, with his arms swinging limply by his sides in a show of perfect vulnerability. Small, mouse-like noises of protest emanated from his lips.

“Sousuke-kun, are you okay?” someone asked from behind him. He realized he was being lifted up by Haruka-sensei, whose palpable concern increased tenfold when Sousuke stared at him incoherently with bleary eyes. He was laughing bitterly and maniacally.

“I couldn’t hit him back,” he chortled. “I just froze up every time. Isn’t that pathetic?”

Viktor was emotionally drained. No, it was worse than that. He was emotionally exhausted. He was beginning to think it would be nice to never have to think or feel again: to let go of his humanity and become a shell. That afternoon had wormed its way into his head and left its scornful offspring to feed off his brain. Guilt and despair were sucking him dry. The sight of Sousuke, bloody and concussed, was returning to him again and again in bright, undulating flashes like a circling lighthouse beam, shining in through the windows of his eyes. Could he have stopped it from happening? He hadn’t looked passed Sousuke’s need for a confidant; instead of listening, he should have been taking action.

Maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a teacher after all.

He dropped his face into his hands, sighing wearily for the hundredth time. Through parted fingers, he could see Kyouya, blank and ashen-faced, clutching an unmoving pen poised on blank paper. Viktor’s heart fluttered with longing. All he wanted was to melt into his lean body and find comfort. Kyouya would tell him that he was a great teacher; that there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent what happened. He was a good man like that. How anyone could stifle their own emotions for the sake of others, even when they were equally as affected, was a mystery to Viktor, but the man in front of him was able to do it somehow. It was one of the reasons he loved him.

Viktor had been the first to arrive at the scene of the scuffle after Kouhai-chan burst in, tears streaming and face bloodied. Kyouya had ordered her to sit at his desk while Haruka fussed with her - at this point Viktor was already out in the corridor. Her voice carried through the hall after him, shrieking:

“For god’s sake, both of you! Help Sousuke-senpai!”

The first thing he had done was try to restrain Hinata as quickly as he could, but even with the perpetrator in his grasp, Viktor’s focus was jostled when he saw Sousuke. It was the sight of him, so unsteady on his feet, that had jarred Viktor once and for all. He felt pangs in his chest when he realized that his relationship with him had built to that of a bond between an uncle and nephew. Brave, chivalrous Sousuke, who hadn’t lifted a finger to Hinata and yet taken everything he had to give. It just wasn’t fair.

Hinata was now sat in the corner of the faculty room on a wooden chair with his palms held upright, humming to himself disconcertingly. His eyes were awfully focused on Kyouya for some reason. Viktor couldn’t look any longer; his thoughts were an scattered mess. Sousuke never mentioned that Hinata knew and yet… No, Viktor was going to trust his gut instinct this time: Hinata knew about the illicit relationship between Kyouya and Kouhai-chan. He had to know.

Haruka had hurried both Sousuke and Kouhai-chan to the infirmary before either of them could be spoken to. The former seemed to be suffering from a slight concussion, while the latter had only been hit once and had bitten the inside of his cheek so hard that she sprayed blood all over herself as a result. Apart from the slight bruise that was emerging along her cheekbone, she was more or less fine, and as soon as Haruka had cleaned her up she went about tending to Sousuke in a matronly manner while Viktor swallowed his own concern and ambled towards the faculty room where Kyouya had taken Hinata into detention.

“This is grounds for suspension, Hinata-kun,” Kyouya said wearily, putting his pen down and lying back in his chair.

“Mm,” Hinata responded, uninterested.

The two teachers exchanged anxious glances at each other.

“Is something happening at home?” Viktor asked with trepidation.

He knew that Sousuke-kun had moved out of the family home and in with his cousin. He had also alluded to some violence that had taken place which had debilitated him enough to see him miss months of archery training, but had begged Viktor not to get involved any further. They agreed that any information which was imparted would be taken as a friend speaking to another friend, rather than a student speaking to a teacher. Viktor began to regret that he had made this promise.

Hinata’s gaze drifted over Viktor’s jaded face for a moment, and then he shrugged.

“Nothing noteworthy,” he mumbled.

Viktor paused. “Sousuke-kun may have mentioned that he is no longer living with you and your father. That sounds pretty noteworthy to me.”

Hinata gritted his teeth. “It’s not noteworthy,” he responded condescendingly. “It’s all Sousuke’s fault.”

Kyouya gave him a puzzled look. He then sighed with finality, flexed his fingers and began hammering away at the computer keyboard in front of him.

“This is an elite school and your family are paying a lot of money for you to be here. Don’t think that this is going to excuse you from what you have done. Unfortunately I can’t punish you any more than I would punish anyone else for fighting, even if you did choose to pick on a girl. In fact, my actions are probably going to come under scrutiny considering your recent circumstances. I’m going to suspend you for the rest of the week and after that we will put you on a reduced timetable. I’m emailing your father now.”

Hinata stared out the window with a dead-eyed expression during Kyouya’s speech, honing in on the dark, wintry sky.

“That’s fine,” he responded dully.

The synthetic light of the faculty room made the boy’s skin appear translucent and his pupils had shriveled to half their normal size under its glare. Viktor shuddered.

Kouhai-chan lived in a modest apartment block, a short walk away from the school, which in turn was situated just on the outskirts of the city center. Although it appeared dingy from the outside, Sousuke felt himself shrouded in maternal warmth as soon as he entered. Her grandmother’s orderly shrine was situated against a windowless wall and her belongings still crowded the kitchen tops: antique teapots complete with floral tea bowls and ancient cookbooks, published long before Sousuke had even been born. Kouhai-chan headed straight for this area, flicking a switch on the wall and filling up the kettle, breathing a heavy sigh as she did so.

“Do you ever drink coffee?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Sometimes,” he responded, crouching in front of the television.

“I think now is the best time for it.”

Sousuke cradled his head in his hands while her back was turned, brushing his fingers through his dark hair. Everything was bathed in a gentle haze. He had hit his head far harder than he initially thought and Kouhai-chan had dragged him to her apartment to make sure that he didn’t fall asleep, which was exactly what he wanted to do in that moment. He was no longer seeing stars, but his mind felt hollow and soft like unmolded clay. It was frustrating.

He handed him a mug and he took it gratefully in both hands, bringing it to his lips and blowing at the rising steam.

“I’m sorry for making you come here,” she said softly, taking a seat next to him.

He felt the hairs stand up on his arms with her in such close proximity. His thoughts weren’t coherent but his body was reacting normally which was a small relief. The television played at a low volume, but for a while it was all either of them could hear as they drank the strong, hot coffee in silence.

“I’m sorry about Hinata,” Sousuke finally said.

When he looked at her, he saw the bruise that was darkening along her cheekbone where his brother had punched her. It was like a relic of her ties with the twins, just as much part of him as it was Hinata. He could have prevented it, he thought to himself. Stepping in and taking a beating just wasn’t good enough. He should have been there from the onset; he should have tracked Hinata’s movements.

“It’s not your fault,” she replied kindly.

“How can you say that? I’ve told you a million times, he’s my responsibility. I keep running away and hiding from the facts, but-”

“Listen, I can’t even make a connection between you and Hinata any more,” she interrupted suddenly. “Okay?”

He blinked at her, uncertainly. Seconds passed, only marred by the sound of raucous laughter emerging from the television.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” she paused. “I mean at first I saw you as two halves of one whole. Like yin and yang. I guess you get that a lot, but, you know, it’s hard not to look at it that way. At first, you both looked so similar, but…”

Her voice trailed off as she stared into her mug.

“He looks so insane now. And the two of you act so differently. I have so much reason to suspect you and hate you but you seem so sincere. Lost almost… like you don’t know what to do. Like you’re on a sinking ship or something. It’s just not fair. I got weird vibes from him at the beginning; most of the other guys don’t know how to take him either. And you blame yourself for that. How can you? You were both children when your mother left.”

Sousuke blinked. “He told you about that?”

“Soujiro did.”

Sousuke stared at the television screen thoughtfully. It was a lot to process; even though she had explained it as simply and specifically as she possibly could, he couldn’t seem to bolt it down. The information was like an insect buzzing around his head.

“Can I ask you a question?” he suddenly said, turning back to her.

She nodded.

“Why Kyouya-sensei?”

Kouhai-chan frowned slightly. “Well, it happened when you were off school. He was driving me home when I shut the café in the evenings and we got talking. I don’t know. Something just clicked. He’d touch my shoulder and I’d just want to shrivel up and die because I was so embarrassed. Then one day he just turned to me out of nowhere and told me to hurry up and graduate. You wouldn’t believe how many nights I lost sleep trying to work out what that meant. He was just there you know. That’s all I can ask.”

She sighed, placing the mug between them and folding her arms over her legs.

“I feel like I’m always waiting on people. Always chasing them. My friends at middle school forgot about me because I couldn’t spend time with them any more. I never knew my dad and I was always trying to track him down to build a relationship. With sensei everything was easy, apart from the whole having to keep it secret. He’d be the one waiting for me at night while I locked up. But to be perfectly honest, it’s just the same all over again except in reverse. I want someone in my life like my grandmother, someone that I can meet in the middle. Does that answer your question?”

He nodded and she smiled fondly at him.

“Now can I ask you one? Why were you off school for three weeks?”

“My dad found out I’d been skipping archery. I ended up with broken ribs.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

“It wasn’t a big deal. There’s nothing a doctor can do so you’ve just got to wait for them to heal by themselves.”

He laughed sardonically.

“I have a habit lately of getting beaten up by my family members,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to see it this time.”

Sousuke looked into his mug, which by now was drained of coffee with the exception of the milky dregs at the bottom. He swirled them around absentmindedly. Somehow hitting his head off the floorboards had crumbled the walls in his mind and he was talking honestly with her without minding much. Rather than shame, he felt deep down that he should feel ashamed, yet wasn’t. Suddenly a hand appeared in his line of vision, removing the mug from his grasp and placing it beside the one on the floor. Kouhai-chan moved closer, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she was whispering, her face fraught with the sudden realization, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Sousuke was stunned as she crawled between his legs and pressed herself up against his chest, holding onto him tightly, as if she expected him to push her away. Feeling unsure of himself, he wrapped his arms around her slowly, murmuring into her hair.

“It’s okay,” he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “I didn’t tell you.”

“You missed archery to watch the café for me,” she sobbed. Her voice was muffled by his chest.

He took the bruised side of her face in his hand tenderly, feeling like a bag of nerves but desperate to placate her somehow. She touched the back of his hand in response, relief mingled with her distress.

“I wouldn’t have had to do anything if it wasn't for Hinata, okay?”

She sniffed, gazing up into his eyes. The tracks of her tears could be traced all the way down to her delicately pointed chin. Where these tears were from, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that he hated seeing her cry and twice in one day was killing him.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked suddenly.

Sousuke's face drained of colour as he looked down at her. He struggled to comprehend what she had said, yet understood the gravity of it right away. He found himself nodding, numbly.

Her tongue tasted metallic from the blood that she had washed away with mouthfuls of water in the infirmary and the gauze on her cheek as he stroked it peeled away under his hand. Normally one to channel strength and vitality, she was a trembling wreck in his arms, stroking his torso with shaking fingertips, giving herself to him entirely. So this was what kissing her felt like, he thought to himself, brushing her soft, parted lips with his own as she gave herself into the kiss. Her eyes were shut, with tear drops resting on her fluttering eyelashes like specks of glitter. Every once in a while, they would peer at each other uncertainly with furrowed eyebrows, and then return to kiss, letting it grow progressively deeper and more passionate.

Her fingertips were tracing his entire body. Up his arm, down to his stomach, and then resting on his thigh. He felt himself grow stiff as she grew closer and was faintly embarrassed, but she responded straight away, shyly stroking his cock through the fabric of his trousers.

He murmured her name and gently pushed her away.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said finally. “You deserve better.”

“I’m the one who decides what I deserve,” she said softly.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and rested her head on his. He could feel the gauze pricking his skin beneath his shirt.

“I like you,” he suddenly told her.

It was an unprompted confession, bound to tangle the mess of their shared situation even further, but he wanted to say it - at least once.

“I like you too, senpai,” she murmured, nuzzling into him. “I like you a lot. So let me stay like this for a while. Please.”

Her voice was oddly calm but imploring. He held onto her, in that quiet room, with the sound of the television set and raucous canned laughter breathing life into their solemn embrace. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her. Despite the contentedness he felt, something was gnawing at the back of his mind. Words, smashed to smithereens began to rearrange themselves in his head.

I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.

Hinata was sat beneath the maple tree; his gaunt face was dignified and opalescent in the glow of the moonlight. He gathered the crisp leaves that lay around him in droves with his hands and threw them towards the sky, absentmindedly humming to himself as he did so.

“You’re back late,” he said mistily, as Sousuke approached.

Sousuke stared down at Hinata, crossing his arms over his torso self-consciously. “Why are you out here?” he asked.

“Dad hit the roof,” his brother confessed, shrugging. “He’s such a hypocrite. Tell me, are we ever going to get around to raking these leaves like we always used to?”

“You said it yourself, nii-sama,” Sousuke responded softly, “we can’t go back to the way things were now.”

“But I’ve been thinking… why not? I can be good. You just have to stay away from her, that’s all.”

Sousuke shuddered. The air was far colder in the compound than it was outside, where Sousuke was perceived as an individual: an individual that could meet a sweet-tempered girl in the middle and lovingly held by her. Here he was cheek-to-cheek with the devil; the other half to a mercurial whole.

“Listen, Hinata,” Sousuke began, “there are some things that I can take from you as your brother. I’d still love you even if you robbed a bank. But this is too much. You've gone way too far this time.”

“What are you expecting me to do, Sousuke?” Hinata sighed wearily, “What do you even think I'm capable of?  We're the mirror image of each other already, I don't need to peel of your skin and wear it to be you if she decides that you're the one she wants. It's far simpler than that; you've got to realize. Everybody treats me differently - everybody thinks I’m a monster and they always have. Even dad likes you better than he ever liked me and you singlehandedly smeared his name across the whole compound when you left. You were the only person who could overlook the part of me that went wrong, but that's clearly not the case any more.”

He laughed bitterly up at the stars as he rested his head against the trunk of the tree. Sousuke was deeply unsettled; his suspicions about Hinata had been right all along. People really had seen this coming and he had unknowingly condoned it the whole time.

“I can’t even remember why I liked her so much. There’s no method to it; it just is what it is. I can’t stop these things from happening any more. I can't hold back like I used to. There’s more than just me inside my mind and that cancerous thing goes on and off like a switch; one second I’m fine and the next I’m full of this uncontrollable rage. I don't even realize what I've done until I've done it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this is me wanting you to stop me. I want you to lock me up and throw away the key. I’m a danger to myself and I’m a danger to you, too. And I’ll be honest, I don’t care for the girl even half as much as I care for you. You’ve always looked after me. It would kill me if I ever ended up hurting you.”

A long shadow was cast over Hinata’s face and Sousuke fancied that it was the shadow of the departed mother before he realized it was just the maple tree, in all its splendor, swaying gently in the night.