#also i will return to regular meetings again after this the idea just wouldn't leave me alone and i had to write it

[quickdeaths]

All things being equal, Anzu loved talking about Shinobu. Her best friend of over a decade, even if they'd drifted apart for a couple years in the middle, was someone who Anzu could always count on for support and protection, and while people usually weren't fair to her, to Anzu, she was the coolest person around. Even so, the idea of someone referring to Shinobu as kind and friendly was enough to earn a little laugh from the actress. "I don't know that everyone agrees with that." She had a lot of good traits, but those weren't necessarily among them.

Although, Anzu did think it was pretty undeniable that Shinobu had been uncharacteristically warm to Sonia. People didn't stick around too long, and while she'd like to be able to blame others alone, Anzu knew that Shinobu could come off as harsh to people she didn't know. For someone to befriend her, and not leave or be pushed away even after a few months? Not usual at all, and that was without even getting into those creepy Valentine's chocolates that Shinobu had seemed so charmed by. "Hmm... I wouldn't say she's shy?" No, that didn't really fit her. "I think Shinobu-chan just... prefers to put her energy into other things than making a lot of friends," she explained, pausing to think of the most diplomatic way to put it.

But maybe that wasn't right either, and Anzu shrugged, as though she wasn't super invested in her answer either way. "As for why her and Rui-kun specifically don't get along? I don't really know." It was then that Anzu realized she might have given Sonia a slightly worrying impression, prompting her to quickly correct herself. "But, I think she definitely likes you, Sonia-san! Shinobu-chan doesn't want a lot of friends, but she cares a lot about the friends she does have." And with Sonia, more than that... Well, Anzu had seen the way Sonia looked at her shirtless bestie, and she'd seen the way Shinobu's expression softened whenever Sonia was around, and how she, noted neutral party when it came to sweets, had practically melted at opening Sonia's gift. Oh yeah. She was shipping.

Anzu, too, was dressed up for the outing. It was an usual sight in the entertainment district, probably, but Anzu always liked to wear her cheaper kimonos on a night out. It was nice to draw attention, and the inner layer kept her warm on cool nights. Most of all, though, dressing up that way - even if it was time-consuming and complicated, even if it would be a bit of an issue if her clothes were damaged or stained - made her feel pretty. Tonight was no different, with a deep purple kimono with a golden feather pattern and matching obi with geometric patterning. Her clip-in hair extensions were gathered up in a low, loose ponytail that helped to lend her a bit more of a mature feel - very fitting, Anzu thought, for someone who was soon to turn eighteen.

With the conversation about Shinobu temporarily tabled, Anzu returned her thoughts to the matter of the club. "Mmm... It's not exactly like that," she corrected. "Normally, you meet the hosts, and pick one as your sort of "personal" host, and then just have them every time, although there's a little more leeway here than most places." Monsieur, as far as she knew, was adamant about giving his staff days off and breaks, meaning that it wasn't unusual for super regulars to have a secondary and tertiary host, just in case. Anzu, though, came for Rui almost exclusively - both since they were friends, and she wanted to support a fellow entertainer, and also because Rui was hotsexy and knew exactly how to dote on her in the way that made her feel special.

"Rui-kun is mine, usually, but since she's not here, that complicates things a little." But, not necessarily too much, and Anzu shrugged. "But you're new, so even if you don't come back, it wouldn't be weird for us to have anyone, and log the visit as a new customer." That would add extra discounts too, so they could probably get the nicer stuff, if Sonia was interested in drinking. Again, Anzu shrugged. Monsieur said he'd drop by soon and help them figure things out, so there probably wasn't a real reason to worry too much. "And as for hotsexy qualities... Hmm..." She tapped at her cheek, thinking it over.

"Well, I don't think it's necessarily the basis for dating someone," she admitted. "But if it's just for a few hours of entertainment, I think just aesthetic attraction is fine." As a starting point, when there wasn't very much to go off of, at least. Still, if there wasn't anyone in particular that Sonia was interested in, that might leave things more to chance, she thought, lightly kicking her feet underneath the table. On some level, it was a good thing that she wasn't the type to immediately chase a handsome face, but Anzu had been looking forward to understanding Sonia's type. For Shinobu's sake, of course.

And then the conversation circled back around to that girl, prompting Anzu to sit up. "Huh? Shinobu-chan texted you?" Multiple times??? Oh, Shinobu-chan, she thought, fighting back a wince, you have to be more relaxed than that. It makes you look way too eager. "Hahaha, I think Shinobu-chan just doesn't text much. She doesn't really know textiquette." Do you appreciate what I'm doing for you, Shinobu-chan? I'm keeping your chances up, so she doesn't think you're some socially-deficient weirdo! "And don't worry about it!" Of course, it was something worth worrying about, and the thought of that afternoon sent shivers down Anzu's spine.

Yuck. "Shinobu-chan's too popular for her own good," she said with a sigh. Valentine's Day had been rough the year prior, but this was on another level. "I'm glad I could help you out." Then, an impish thought crawled into Anzu's head. Shinobu probably wouldn't want her saying anything, but... "You know, Shinobu-chan doesn't like sweet things very much, and she definitely gets too much to eat even if she did." Sorry Shinobu-chan, but this is for your own good. "After everything finally got squared away and the police left and all the reports were filed and stuff, Shinobu-chan and I were sorting things in her lab." She fixed Sonia with a bright smile. "Your chocolates were the only ones she kept for herself. It seemed like she really liked them!"

At that time, Monsieur arrived at their table, wearing a tired smile. "Hello again, beloved guests," he said, setting a small booklet with the alcohol offerings down in front of them. "I'm Monsieur, and while I am certainly too old to sit with the two of you, I'd be happy to get a bottle or two for the table?" The introduction seemed to be for Sonia's sake, and his smile towards her invited an introduction in turn, should she wish. "Anzu-san has a line of credit, and between the unfortunate situation with Rui-san, and a new customer welcome gift, our prices can't be beat." The man gave a gentle laugh, his performance warm and familiar towards Anzu, lacking any stuffy qualities, but neither being too flirty or forward. "As for the matter of your entertainment tonight, if there's someone you'd like to see, I'm happy to arrange it, or I could have some of the hosts who are free come over in shifts until you settle on someone?" For both questions, Anzu looked to Sonia, willing to go along with whatever she wanted.

In front of her, as they approached the district known for its nightlife and many clubs and bars, Sonia smiled genuinely in return. Anzu couldn't see it of course, but that didn't mean it didn't matter: her friend was a vivacious and fascinating person, with a heart and soul so large and bright it was seemingly difficult to contain to the stage. A natural performer, to the point that Sonia had been quite surprised when she'd suggested what to do on a night they both had off. The Ultimate Princess had incorrectly assumed that Anzu, after spending so much time in the spotlight, would want a break from it all. Perhaps that was Sonia's own self-projection.

"I am glad as well," Sonia told her, realizing her smile would be of little help in adding to the conversation. "I shall rely upon your guidance, Anzu-san! Truth be told, it is my first time visiting an establishment such as this."

Not that Sonia hadn't heard of host clubs and bars. Anime, manga, and dramas offered plenty of various insights into the host club world, from pastel school blazers to evenly applied spray tans. But it was one of the more controversial, thus discreet, ways the truly wealthy Japanese spent their money: unlike the flashy sports cars and "garish and loud" designer labels (her mother's words, but it was fitting) beloved by plenty of wealthy offspring around the world, the old moneyed Japanese were so discreet that, at best, they blended into crowds on trains and on the street in perfect camouflage. Yes, she'd visited single family detached homes with their own private onsen or luxury condos a two minute walk from Shibuya station, but the cars and clothes were quiet luxury, and many of those with drivers' licenses drove themselves (barring a night of drinking where the family chauffeur was called upon to take care of them).

Money, instead, was spent on experiences: elite boarding schools in Europe (including Novoselic. There were several Japanese teens whose families had sent them to In Utero purely for an excellent education and to befriend the Princess of Novoselic, only to become gravely disappointed that Princess Sonia had opted to finish her high school education in Japan), first class or private flight accommodations for luxury vacations, booking an entire 10-seat sushi restaurant for two or obtaining a last-minute table at Joel Robuchon (despite reservations being booked four months out), touring a building or business they intended to buy to celebrate their 20th birthday, and host and hostess clubs. The latter was done as quietly as possible: a common knowledge that it was widely practiced but an unflattering habit should it ever be revealed to fellow members of the upper crust. Wealthy and power young men and women alike bought their hosts and hostesses all the loudly branded, sparkling, and engine-revving items they'd never be able to sport themselves, but Sonia knew enough future CEOs, politicians, and trophy spouses who felt like they 'owned' their favored host or hostess, as high school or college students, because they'd bought them an Italian sports car or a closet full of designer handbags.

She couldn't tell Anzu, she thought as they turned a corner, but she was a little nervous: she trusted her friend to have planned a safe and comfortable outing for them both, but she hoped she wouldn't accidentally meet anyone who would eagerly inform the King and Queen of Novoselic about their daughter's whereabouts that evening. From gossip at various events she'd attended as Princess, she also had managed to overhear various tips and suggestions from young men and women who visited such clubs: if you're under twenty, dress a little older. Nothing too loud. Offer gifts and compliments with discretion. Choose a host or hostess who knows how to keep their mouth shut.

Thankfully, the swirling questions in her mind would soon be put to rest. Sonia's gaze followed Anzu's direction to the elegant silver banner depicting the club's name. It seemed different than the rest of the businesses on the block: with reds or pinks or brighter, if not blinding, lights. She followed Anzu to the professional headshots created for each host, not a spray tan or spiky hairdo between the lot of them. "I think I have seen her before," Sonia commented, the heels of her Roger Vivier mary janes clicking against the pavement. "But I have never met her. She seems to have many friends at school: I believe I remember her being surrounded by many girls, from our school or otherwise. And if you believe she is a good person, Anzu-san, then I am sure I shall be delighted to meet her too!"

"Still," Sonia continued as she followed Anzu inside, "It puzzles me as to why your friend Rui-kun and Yaguchi-san do not get along. Yaguchi-san is a kind and friendly person, courteous and helpful and wonderful to talk to." She pointedly left out the amount of rippling, defined muscles that highlighted Shinobu Yaguchi's arms and torso, something she'd personally witnessed for herself a few months back when she'd returned her samue and presented her with flowers that, to Sonia's delight, Shinobu had accepted. Granted, Anzu had been present for all of it too, so it was a moot point to mention anyway. "I imagine she would have many friends. Perhaps she is shy?"

While she spoke, she took in the atmosphere of the club: the cool-toned, sleek decor, the abundance of glittering chandeliers above their heads, a few booths already occupied with young women and their selected hosts. To Sonia's relief, none of them seemed to embody quiet luxury: many of them chose cutesy styles not out of place in Shibuya or bold luxury labels mostly from Europe: from apparel to accessories to shoes, they seemed enamored by their hosts who, albeit far more discreetly, sported a few similarly luxe items as well. From the chatter she'd heard at various parties, it was likely these women were hostesses as well or in a similar service industry and it was their time off, their turn to be pampered. She could not blame them, she thought as she approached the front of house behind Anzu. Soon enough, Sonia found herself trying to stifle a chuckle at the older man's joke that Anzu clearly hadn't understood: two younger cousins obsessed with various Nintendo products and being best friends with Chiaki Nanami ensured that was a reference Sonia could not miss.

"Thank you," She smiled at the man, once she was able to contain her amusement and slip off her deep green overcoat, to be handed off to one of the hosts to hang presumably from the way he stretched out his arms in offering. It was necessary for that time of the year: the deep green lace dress, lined through the bodice and skirt only, ended at the middle of her thighs and left her arms and wide scalloped neckline only covered in a single layer of green lace. It ended in a deep V in the back, one that bared a good amount of her skin when she walked, thanks to the high ponytail she'd chosen to style her hair in that evening. Her mother had hated the dress, mostly because of the short length and how fitted it was over her hips, but it did make her look older than her seventeen years. At least the black tights she'd worn with it would keep her legs suitably warm.

Her amusement faded though, when she noticed Anzu's disappointment. "Oh no, Anzu-san...well, perhaps we could simply return sometime and I may meet your Rui-kun at a later date? I am sure we may still find reason to enjoy our time here. We shall have a proper girls night, fo' sho'!" She beamed, nodding her approval to Monsieur's idea and following Anzu's lead.

Or so she was, for when they reached the booth, she'd asked her the most peculiar question as Sonia slid the chain strap of her handbag off her shoulder. "Are the hosts...not simply assigned to you when you enter?" She inquired with a puzzled tilt of her head. "Forgive me, I thought it was like a cafe where one is simply assigned to you when they have availability."

She looked up at the chandelier over their booth in thought, trying to do her best by Anzu and take her question into consideration. She'd only had a quick glance at the photographs when they'd entered, and the hosts seemed to range from playfully easygoing to semi-formal, or at least a stylish sort of business look. But Sonia found herself facing the same problem she had at every party, at every ball, at every gala where she was expected to swoon over a potential partner.

She gave Anzu an apologetic look and a small shake of her head, just as her phone began to vibrate several times in succession in her grey quilted leather handbag. For so many messages, Sonia thought, it must be important as she reached for the double C turnlock: she hadn't shown up entirely unlabeled, so to speak. "I do not know if they are 'hotsexy,' really," She admitted. Perhaps she was visiting a Host Club all wrong? Was it truly so simple to see someone physically attractive and decide to love them, just like that? "How would I know if they are 'hotsexy' unless I speak with them? I suppose I have always found others attractive by their thoughts, and values, and passions first."

Speaking of attraction, it had been another surprise of the evening for Sonia to find out that it had been Shinobu behind the five text messages in a row. Shinobu, with her interest in reading novels who enjoyed kaiju movies and doted on the koi in the pond in her house's front garden. She'd read the two books she'd lent her and had returned them before she'd left for Novoselic for the required Christmas holiday events: it was entirely possible, after all, that her friend would want to read her books during the time away from Hope's Peak, when she wasn't practicing her archery of course.

Archery...a mental image Sonia did not need to preoccupy herself with for the second time in the span of an hour: Shinobu shattering a target, Shinobu who made such a thing look effortless, with her raw strength and power of her arms and back and-

"O-oh, though as we were speaking of Yaguchi-san, she has messaged me several times in a row to say she enjoyed the chocolates you helped me give her for Valentine's Day and she regrets not thanking in me in person, due to the circumstances of the day," Sonia explained. It would be rude to leave Anzu in the dark unless it truly needed to be private. "Thank you again for your assistance with that, by the way. I was certain that crowd would have trampled me otherwise. She also wishes us a pleasant evening."

[ask-serious-sans]

PTA Reader (Platonic!Reader and PTA Sans) Part 12

Summary: In which a school event results in Asgore getting stuck in a bounce house, PTA Flowey is back once again (and apparently really loves jump scares), and Linda learns why you should never insult Frisk while they're alone.

The PTA had been planning a school-wide event for several weeks, and now it was finally happening. There was a bounce house, several hand-made games like ring toss and a dart throwing game, and various snack tables. Even Muffet had been allowed to bring some spider pastries, much to Linda's dismay; mostly due to Flowey's comment that 'If Linda didn't let her bring the pastries she would just be proving to everyone that she was jealous of a spider's baking skills being superior to her own.' It was a Saturday, and nearly all the students had shown up, many with their parents. Fortunately, this event was being held outside rather than inside the cafeteria, so the amount of space available wasn't a problem. Even with everything spread out, one could barely walk ten feet without almost running into someone, not due to it being crowded but because there were little kids everywhere running from place to place. If this had been held in the cafeteria, it definitely would have been a disaster. Not to mention, you had no idea how they would have fit a bounce house in there. You and your sibling ran into Sans and Frisk, as well as Asgore and Toriel, shortly after arriving. Sans was also carrying the flower pot Flowey generally resided in, explaining that Flowey had wanted to come for the sole purpose of bothering Linda. Helen happened to overhear this, and rushed to warn Linda, much to Flowey's annoyance. "Oh, come on! I had this whole surprise planned to scare her!" Flowey muttered. "Oh well, on to plan B." You weren't sure what 'plan B' was, but you figured you would find out soon enough. Anyway, Frisk had discovered a plush dog as one of the prizes for the dart throwing game, and was now determined to win it. Considering it was one of the larger prizes, you figured it wasn't going to be easy to win. The person running the booth seemed to agree, but Frisk wasn't one to give up. Besides, this was the kid who had single-handedly freed an entire civilization of monsters, so winning a stuffed toy wasn't that improbable. Frisk took the darts and stood the indicated distance away from the dart board, a determined expression on their face. Then, their posture changed slightly, and their eyes seemed to turn red- though that was probably just a result of the sunlight hitting them in a certain way, right?- and they threw the darts, one at a time, every single one a bulls-eye. Frisk accepted the plush from the confused person running the booth with a smile, eyes now back to normal. So it had just been your imagination, you thought. Shrugging it off, you followed the others to the bounce house. Your sibling and Frisk entered the bounce house immediately, joining a small group of other kids who had already been inside. Soon, Frisk climbed back out, dragged Sans into the bounce house, and then resumed jumping around while Sans tried to keep his balance. Eventually, at Frisk's insistence, Sans started to jump around inside the bounce house as well, except every time he jumped he seemed to teleport and land on the other side of the bounce house. Soon, the children had created a game where they tried to guess where he would end up each time. Then, Frisk tried to convince Toriel and Asgore to enter the bounce house as well. Toriel started explaining that that probably wasn't a good idea, but Asgore, who thought the bounce house looked cool, actually agreed to it. It wasn't long before he realized he was stuck in the bounce house, one of his horns having been caught in one of the mesh sides of the inflatable structure. It took Toriel, Frisk, Sans, you, and your sibling to get him free, and he promptly left the bounce house afterwards. On the bright side, the children had all found the entire thing immensely funny and Asgore was now known as the 'coolest dad on earth,' at least according to the students at the school. Then you noticed Flowey's flower pot was empty, and immediately started looking for Linda because you had a feeling you didn't want to miss this. After scanning the crowd a few times, you saw her arguing with Muffet at one of the snack tables, and it seemed you'd found her just in time because mere seconds afterwards, Flowey popped up from out of the ground right next to her. Linda shrieked, but before everyone else could turn to see what had happened, Flowey had disappeared again, reappearing in the flower pot a moment later. "So, that was plan B?" you asked. "Nah, that was plan C, but I realized the chance was too good to waste." Flowey replied. "Fair enough."

Bonus - PTA Chara Later, Linda happened to come across Frisk when they were, surprisingly, completely separated from the monsters. Naturally, Linda decided to take the rare opportunity while she had it and started blaming Frisk for all the 'problems' the return of the monsters to the surface had caused her. After all, Frisk never fought or argued back; Linda had heard about this from their teachers and peers. And without the monsters, or any of their other friends around to overhear, it was unlikely anyone was going to stop her from ranting at the poor child. "This is all your fault. You've caused so many problems by bringing those monsters here." Frisk initially just remained silent, as Linda had expected, but then, something changed. They stood up straighter, glaring right back at Linda with eyes that suddenly seemed red, and spoke in a slightly different tone than usual. "Oh yes, blame a child you've barely had one conversation with for the intricacies of all the social disasters in your life. Because that makes sense." "Wha-" Linda stammered, shocked. What had happened to the overly nice child who was kind to everyone? "What, you can't handle the truth?" "How dare you speak to me like that!" Linda replied, fury filling her tone. "Like what?" the child asked innocently. "Do you know who you're talking to?" Linda asked, trying to seem intimidating. "Do you?" That statement seemed incredibly ominous, even coming from a child. Or perhaps because it was coming from a child. Linda scowled. "Now listen here, you have a horrible attitude." "I could say the same about you," the child replied with a smile. Somehow, the smile was even more ominous. Linda shivered involuntarily, but continued anyway. "You need to grow up." "Hey, I still have time to grow up. What's your excuse?" Later, Linda would try to tell the monsters what had happened, but none of them believed her. "You sure this is Frisk we're talking about?" Sans had said, looking amused. "You know they literally wouldn't insult a fly, right?" "But-" "Frisk is way too nice to do that. Nice try, Linda." Flowey had told her with a laugh. "I'm serious!" "Seriously out of it if you think Frisk said any of that," Asgore had commented. "They're the sweetest child I've ever met." "Yes, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't make such accusations about them," Toriel had added. "I'm sure you would be less than pleased if someone had been claiming such things about your children."

[prettyblfan]

Coffee Shop Boy

That can remember the softness in those dark brown eyes as the wound on his knuckle was treated, That can remember quite well the pretty boy at the coffee shop in the oversized pink hoodie, That can definitely remember the pretty boy at the coffee shop and he might just have made a habit out of visiting at unreasonable hours with injuries. Sorawit the said pretty boy at the coffee shop looks forward to seeing the handsome boy that always turns up at 4.30am all battered and bruised but he just hoped he'd stop getting injured.

And somewhere along the lines they both fall in love, but neither of them are quite sure where.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All in all a That x Sorawit coffee shop au that no one asked for but I delivered anyway. Essentially, gangsta That falling in love with the pretty boy at the coffee shop all whilst his boss falls in love with the owner of the coffee shop that may or may not be the brother of that said pretty boy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One.

From Sorawit perspective.

Sorawit flipped over the sign on the door, which read in bold.

The Pink Lily is now open for business.

It had been almost three months since him and Bun had moved to the area. So how did they end up with a coffee shop you wonder? Long story short Bun with his upright sense of justice couldn't stand to see a poor old lady being swindled out of her money so he decided to buy the coffee shop from her at the price it was actually worth. And i know what you're thinking why couldn't he just have told her she was being scammed, well you see she was desperate for the money as her husband needed urgent treatment. Hence why she was willing to settle for what ever price she could get.

So, that's how Sorawit ended up wiping down tables and organising coffee at 4.20am in the morning.

But of course he didn't mind he loved the Pink Lily with all his heart it was covered in his favourite thing flowers, from head to toe there wasn't a corner without them.

After all the Pink Lily was designed to be a place that you could go and put your worries to rest at least for a while.

Today was Sorawit's first time doing the early morning shift which started at 4am and ended 7am. He usually did the evening or late evening shift depending on how much work and studying he had to do as he was still a highschool student. Unfortunately that became a problem when he couldn't function in class or stay a wake for long, so Bun ended up having to switch him out so he'd have more time to rest in the evenings.

Regardless of the shift change Sorawit didn't really care although he would have to say that he preferred the early morning shift a lot better already as it was quieter and he got to work alone, usually with the evening shifts he would work alongside two other members of staff and although they were friendly and easy to get along with Sorawit albeit being the outgoing person he is liked to be alone sometimes. On the other hand the late evening shift was much worse he had to work along side Bun, not that his brother was bad no quite the contrary he was amazing and Sorawit couldn't live without him. You see the problem was after work he was a complete nightmare, and Sorawit tried to understand it must be hard to work in a hospital not only being a doctor but also a forensic pathologist but there is only so much nitpicking he can handle.

Being so caught up in his thoughts Sorawit hardly heard the door chime, he quickly turned around to greet the customer. He was slightly nervous as unlike the other shifts he didn't know what kind of customers he'd get and although Bun tried to ease his nerves by leaving a note with the coffees that the regular early morning customers would get and their names, Sorawit was pretty sure none of them arrived this early.

"Morning what can..." Sorawit trailed off fast, the rest of his sentence had already left his head as he stared at the handsome boy standing in the door way.

His black hair was push back and out of his face, allowing his facial features to stand out more. Although they had a certain sharpness to them Sorawit couldn't help but think he was kind of cute, the roundness of his face and the puffiness of he cheeks contrasted heavily with the rest of his overall look.

He was dressed in black from head to toe and if that didn't slightly intimidate Sorawit then the cold arura he gave off definitely did. But despite all of this one thing he couldn't deny was the fact that the boy standing in front of him was handsome, too much so that he lost half of his sentence just by looking at him.

"Can I have a caramel latte" the boy spoke as he sat down at the table closest to the door.

'How funny' Sorawit thought nodding his head at the boy, he would have never pegged him as the type to like sweet things he seemed way more like a bitter kind of guy.

The boys voice was alot deeper than he was expecting it to be and the fact that he never broke eye contact with him also made him feel a bit tingly. It was like he had ran a marathon, his heart was pounding in his chest.

'Should I ask Bun to check it out' he pondered the last thing he wanted to end up with was a heart condition.

"With cream or without" Sorawit replied after he had finished making the coffee.

"With." A short response came from the customer sat by the door.

After finishing the last touches on his latte Sorawit brought it over carefully, you see he had the tendency to be quite clumsy on his first day he managed to spill at least 10 cups of coffee in which resulted in Bun saying that he's lucky he's cute. He never really got what he meant by that how did being clumsy have anything to do with being cute?

"Would you like anything else to go with that we have pastries." Sorawit smiled gently at him before placing the coffee down on the table, whilst doing so he couldn't help but catch a glimps of the boys bleeding knuckle which he failed to see earlier.

Actually now looking at him closer he seemed to have faded bruises on his cheek and near his mouth.

"No." Hearing a response Sorawit quickly pulled his attention away from his face and turn around heading back to the kitchen area.

The entire time he felt eyes on him.

'I think I might seriously have a heart problem' he thought resting his hand against his chest.

Once he had managed to settle his heart he open the cupboard storing the first aid kit and pulled it out, before making his way back over to the table. By this time he had already finished half of his coffee.

"You're bleeding." Sorawit pointed out obviously but he didn't know how to go about the situation, wouldn't it be a bit strange if he asked.

"Umm" like before the boy kept his response short staring blanking at Sorawit.

Again Sorawit had seemed to lose the ability to breathe, he really needed to make a mental note to tell Bun about this.

"Do you want me to..." Sorawit trailed off unsure of what to say, he wasn't usually like this he was actually very confident around people he just met. However, Sorawit couldn't help but feel a bit nervous he didn't want to mess up.

Without a reply the boy simply just put his bleeding hand on the table.

"Ah" Sorawit quickly realised what the signal meant and pulled out the chair next to him.

Treating and bandaging wounds was no problem for him after all not only has he learnt from Bun but his whole family had worked in the medical field. His dad was a doctor whilst his mum worked in dentistry, when they were still alive he felt a huge amount of pressure to follow in their foot steps just like his brother. Although they had never forced him and were completely supportive in whatever he wanted to do he still felt as if it was like an unspoken rule. That coupled with the fact that Sorawit had no idea what he wanted to do in the future, the pressure had always seemed to build up but more so now after their deaths he felt as if he should honour them in some way.

"How did you get injured" Sorawit spoke pulling himself out of his thoughts, the silence was too loud and it was killing him.

"I fought" he said looking up to meet Sorawit's gaze.

'How can someone be so handsome' Sorawit pondered before breaking eye contact and focusing back on his hand.

"Ah, so you lost?" Sorawit teased, finally becoming more comfortable.

"No, you just haven't seen the other guy" he shot back raising his eyebrow.

It was then for the first time Sorawit saw him smile even if it was a small one, teasing and filled with ridicule Sorawit couldn't tell he was too taken aback to notice. He was alot more handsome when he smiled.

"Why did you fight?" Sorawit continued to question, curiosity filling his eyes.

"Because...." he paused running his other hand through his hair before saying with a light smirk,

"Not telling." "Huh, fine." Sorawit said followed by a short pout.

"Why not." Sorawit ask again quickly trying to force an answer out of him, as to his surprise the other gave in.

"They picked a fight" the boy responded pulling back his hand seeing that he had finished.

"Why?" Sorawit asked, he wasn't sure why he was asking all these question but he couldn't help himself but want to know.

Whilst he was waiting for a response he started to clean up the mess he had made when all of a sudden a bandaged hand came up to his chest and lifted up the name tag hanging from his oversized pink hoodie.

"Sorawit huh, you're quite curious" he said completely ignoring his question.

It was then when he realised that he completely forgot to ask for his name. But feeling a little bit embarrassed Sorawit didn't bother to ask now.

"It's natural to be curious It's not every day someone walks in looking like death" he fired back quickly getting up to return the first aid kit back to It's place.

Ignoring Sorawit once again he pulled out his wallet and placed some money on the table before saying,

"That. My name if you were also curious about that"

And like that before Sorawit could respond That was gone.

'Weird.'

Sorawit thought, That was strange. Viangpa Mork was a pretty small village and he'd like to think that although they've only been there for three months they've practically already met everyone. Yet the boy named That had seemed to appear out of nowhere, he looked about Sorawit age or may be a year older which could explain why he hasn't seen him in school but overall That was a very mysterious character.

Sorawit quickly got over it there was no point dwelling on it he mostly likely never see the boy again. He walked back over to the table to collect the money only to see that the odd and mysterious That had left 620 baht for a 300 baht coffee.

'Did he also hit his head' Sorawit thought it was either that or he was stupid.

*^*

Love at first sight all whilst being completely oblivious we love that for you Sorawit.

Next chapter in the making but I am a procrastinator so it may take a hot minute but as I mentioned before I am very dedicated to That x Sorawit so I will not let you guys down.

P.s this chapter was like a mini intro hopefully they'll get a bit longer but I mean I wouldn't bet on it my procrastinating game is strong. I would also say I proof read but I didn't so mistakes will change when I read over it and notice them but also don't be shy feel free to point them out to me. And no I did not forget Nam the iconic trio will live on.

[spencers-dria]

Turn for the Better

Someone To Stay Ch. 1

Spencer x fem!reader

Spencer POV:

I open my eyes and glance around the room. It's darker than I remember. I must have fallen asleep reading on the couch again. I glance down and see a pile of books on the rug. Oh yeah...I only made it through about four books this time before I nodded off. I sigh in frustration that I'm awake. Might as well get up I suppose.

I wander into the kitchen and pull open the fridge only to be met with a jar of peanut butter, week old left overs, and a half empty jug of juice. Next.

I try again with the pantry. Almost completely bare. I guess this is what happens when you stop going to the grocery store. I settle on a cup of apple juice and a bag of chips... better than nothing right?

I slump back down onto the couch and pull my green wool blanket over me. As I stare up at my ceiling, as I begin to let my mind wander. But this was dangerous territory. I have to keep my mind occupied, I just have to. So I quickly sit back up and turn the TV to one of my favorite Dr. Who episodes. They say that anxious people re-watch the same shows because they find the familiarity comforting. I could definitely understand the feeling.

It was the weekend, which meant I wasn't called into work. Cases had been slow lately, as we spent quite a bit of time doing paperwork back at the office. Unfortunately for me, this meant less distractions. Distractions were good. Distractions were necessary. They are the only way I make it through the days anymore.

Things had finally returned to normal for me back at work. I was going into the field, and it felt like my coworkers were no longer tiptoeing around me. I hate when they do that, and it bothers me more than any amount of teasing ever could. I'm not so delicate, so easily breakable. Look at everything I have been through, everything I have endured. Yet here I am, still alive, still doing my job. I didn't need to be babied. So it was a relief when I felt the regular rapport I shared with my friends return. They had gone back to the sarcastic remarks and silly nicknames. I was grateful for it. They did, however, continue to check up on me. This was something that I did appreciate. They've seen me go down a dark road once before. I have no intentions of ever returning. I was stronger than that... I think. All I know is I have held on this long without resorting to any unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Coping mechanisms...oh how I wish I had something to make the healing process easier. Having a fairly empty social calendar left me alone often. Normally I would find comfort in the peace and quiet of my solitary apartment, but not quite so much lately. I couldn't very well make plans to go out, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to do that. Who would want to hang out with me right now anyways? I'd be a damper on the fun, and everyone knows it. That's probably why my friends stopped inviting me to the nights at the bar.

There I go again, letting my mind slip into a dark hole of anxiety. Its not a safe place to be. I quickly turn my attention back to the show in front of me, letting it drown out all other thoughts.

The ring of my phone quickly draws my attention away. Finally...another case! I jump up to answer, seeing the name on my screen: Derek Morgan. That's odd. Usually Hotch or Garcia call to notify us of a new case.

"Hello?" I answer, confusion lacing my voice.

"Pretty Boy! Buzz me up!"

Well now I'm even more confused. Derek never comes to my apartment. I quickly press the button letting him into the building and opening my apartment door, waiting for him to arrive.

As he comes up the stairs, he gives me a grin shouting, "Come on man! Get dressed. We're goin' out!"

I roll my eyes and retreat back into the apartment, Derek close behind me.

I sink back onto the couch, my eyes glued to the television as I tune him out.

"Aw c'mon. Don't be like that. How long have you been sitting there watching TV? Have you done anything else today, at all?"

I don't answer, I don't even look at him.

"Oh, let me guess. You've been reading all day, huh?"

"Wow, can't get anything past you huh?" I say dryly, regretting my tone as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Alright that it. You've been cooped up in here too long. Like I said before, we're going out. And I'm not taking no for an answer" he says sternly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I finally look up at him as I roll my eyes.

"You know I can kick your ass right?" Derek smirks.

"Fine" I concede. "Well...where are we going? I don't know what to wear unless you tell me what our plans are."

"Don't pretend you don't wear the same fancy button ups no matter where you end up going."

I let out a small laugh...he's got me there.

"Dinner at Rossi's. I know pretty boys are high maintenance but, hurry up or you'll make us late!" I smile at the nickname. Same old Derek.

Y/N POV:

You let out a sigh of relief as you watched your coworker approach you, ready to receive report. It had been a particularly busy shift, and you were ready to get some much-needed rest. You walked to each patient room, giving Clementine summary of the day and the latest updates on labs and vital signs. You stepped into each room with her, checking one last time to make sure each of your patients was doing well and didn't need anything else before you left. Normally you and Clem would spend some time catching up and making jokes, but she could tell you were tired and needed to be home more than anything. You wished her good luck on her shift as you made your way to the break room. After putting away your stethoscope and the large collection of pens, pencils, and markers you kept in your pockets, you finally headed towards the elevator to leave for the day.

You opened the door to your apartment to be greeted by your dog, Juneau. She was a rescue you adopted a few months back. She still needed to make progress, but she had really warmed up to you and your friends and seemed much more comfortable in her new home. After feeding her dinner and taking her for a short walk, you heated up a quick frozen dinner and sunk into your couch.  Curling up in your blanket, you spent a few minutes browsing through different streaming services only to land on The Office, as usual.  Your mind drifts to what your next few days might consist off. You just so happened to land 4 days off in a row, but you had no idea how you would spend your time. You glanced down at your phone as it lit up.  It was your Uncle Will.

"Hey, whats up!" you chimed, glad to hear from your favorite uncle.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm actually calling to invite you to a dinner some friends of mine are having tomorrow night. I know your schedule is real busy. But I haven't seen you much since you moved up here to Virginia! I know you haven't met many people here yet, but I think I can help you make a start. "

The kind gesture made you smile. You had always been fairly close with your father's side of the family. He had grown up in Louisiana and met your mother at a college in Texas. You spent your childhood in Houston but frequently visited the Cajun half of your family. Uncle Will had moved away once he fell in love with Jenifer Jareau, his now wife, and you hadn't seem much of him the past few years. But as luck would have it, your nursing career had lead you to a hospital in Fredericksburg, VA. You felt extremely lucky to have family nearby, or else you would have been completely alone. But sometimes you still felt that way, which is why you were so grateful for his offer.

"That actually sounds great! I am off for the next four days, and I didn't really have anything planned. Who will I be meeting at this dinner?"

"Well it's some of JJ's coworkers. They're like a second family to us, and I know they'll be just as welcoming to you. I already told them you moved up here, and they've been begging to meet you."

"Aww I can't wait to see Aunt JJ and my sweet little cousin, Henry! Its been so long since I came to visit you guys. I think Henry was barely two years old the last time I saw him."

"Well we all hope to see you a lot more now that you're here. You're like a daughter to us, Y/N. You are welcome to visit any time you like. I know nursing is a stressful job, and it can take a toll. Its important to have family and friends around you when things get tough." You could hear that this was a genuine offer and you fully planned to take him up on it in the future. Being alone in a new state was taking its toll.

"So where and when should I plan to meet for dinner?"

"I'll text you the address real quick. Everyone is planning to meet around 6. It shouldn't be too far of a drive. It's one of JJ's coworker's houses. David Rossi. He's a real easygoing guy, and he loves cooking for everyone. He loves meeting new people even more, so you should feel right at home!"

"Sounds like a fun time. Thank you again for thinking to invite me. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Alright boo, talk to you later."

You smiled at the pet name used by the entire Louisiana side of your family. I guess the north had yet to steal his southern roots. You hung up the phone. You finally had plans. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't a coworker.  It would also be your first excuse to dress up since moving and starting your new job. Too excited to wait, you jumped up from the couch and began to rifle through your closet for something to wear. You didn't want to be too over or underdressed. You grabbed a black spaghetti strap fit and flare dress and throw it on with some black panty hose, a lightweight maroon cardigan, and some black heels. You snapped a quick photo in the mirror and shoot a text to Aunt JJ.

Y/N: Apparently I'm joining y'all for dinner tomorrow night...is this too much???

Aunt JJ: I heard! I can't wait!

And oh my goodness, no! You look gorgeous! It will be perfect.

Also...Henry is so excited to see you!

You smiled, more confident in your choice. Aunt JJ had great taste. You had only had the chance to meet her in person a couple times, but the two of you had clicked right away and stayed in touch over text and Facetime. Sometimes she felt more like the sister you never had.

Starting to feel the effects of your particularly difficult shift, you start to get ready for bed. You wanted to be well rested for tomorrow. You say goodnight to Juneau and crawl into bed, snuggled under all the blankets. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, with the feeling that things in your life are about to take a turn for the better. You couldn't explain it...but somehow you just knew.

[zhanghaos-hairclips]

36:5 || 04

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

04 - Lost

It's finally the day of the party, and you've just worked up the courage to confess, but will everything go to plan?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I arrived at the party a little early with Soonyoung and his friend Jihoon, who I'd never met before, but who seemed nice enough from the brief conversation I managed to have with him. Soon after we arrived, he excused himself to take over some snacks to the snack table, and then it was just me, Soonyoung and several bags of presents. Being at Vernon's apartment was a little overwhelming, mostly because I'd never been but also because of how big it was. Part of me had been expecting a small, cosy apartment with an old rug, but this was something else. Right in the corner of the living room was a pretty tree decorated with multi-coloured tinsel and sparkly ornaments, and underneath it were more presents than I'd ever seen in my lifetime. It was like a child's dream seeing so many gifts sitting there, so much so that, for a moment, the child within me forgot how to function properly.

The rest of the apartment was decorated with sparkly decorations, too. Gold and silver streamers hung from the ceiling, and various ornaments - santas, elves, reindeer and snowmen were dotted around on almost every surface. It would have been excessive, having so many decorations anywhere, if they didn't look so pretty. Soonyoung nudged me in my side, chuckling to himself at my reaction to Vernon's apartment. I snapped out of my thoughts as he slung his arm around my shoulder. "We should put our presents down by the others. You're gonna have all night to stare at the decorations." He suggested, pinching my cheek. I scrunched my nose up at him and he laughed, removing his arm and walking over to the tree. I followed behind him just as Vernon popped out of nowhere.

"Hey you two, y/n it's great to finally meet you in person! Lovely sweater by the way." He greeted us, giggling at our ugly sweaters and pulling us in for a hug. "Whatcha got there. All for me, hmm?" He teased, trying to peak in the bags. Soonyoung swatted him away and I watched the two of them, smiling at their cute friendship. They truly were like brothers, just as I was told.

After putting the presents under the tree, me and Soonyoung decided to see what everyone else was doing. There weren't that many of us there, since Vernon didn't want to have to clean up too much mess, so there were a few small groups doing different things. A few of Vernon and Soonyoung's friends hovered close to the snack table, including Jihoon, some more were playing random drinking games and the rest were having some sort of comedic dance-off.

It didn't take too long for me and Soonyoung to get separated as I drifted in and out of the groups, not really knowing anyone except a few faces. At first, he went over to slay the others at the dance-off, which had somehow turned into a karaoke competition after a few rounds. I watched him for a bit before deciding to watch the drinking game group. At some point Vernon must have told them to slow down, as they were now playing regular games. Jeonghan, one of the few faces there I actually knew, turned to me and invited me to join. The rest were happy enough to let me play, and soon the friendly competition helped me loosen up around the group of strangers. Every so often, Soonyoung would come over and offer me snacks or drinks, and sometimes the boys would tease us about it. It was easy enough to laugh off, though, it being a topic we'd talked about before and agreed there was nothing there besides a solid friendship.

And that's how my night continued until about half ten, at which point most of the game squad had left to get food or do something else. I looked over at the karaoke group, which had gained more "competitors". I noticed my crush among them, who was so into the song he was singing, belting the words out whilst dancing energetically, that he burst into a fit of laughter when his voice cracked. I smiled fondly. Even above the music, above the chatter, and even above my racing heart, his laugh rang out like my favourite Christmas song. I knew I was in way too deep for someone who had only met him a few times. It wasn't just the times we'd seen each other, though. It was the dumb stories Soonyoung told me about him late at night and the random quotes he or Vernon had texted me throughout the day. Those were the things that made my heart swell with affection.

Finally, I found the two of them again, sat in the kitchen with drinks in their hands. "Hey you two, trying to get a breather from the chaos out there?" I asked, grinning at them, leaning against one of the counters. Vernon nodded, adding how he was tired from cheering on the karaoke team most of the night. I chuckled to myself, remembering the sound of my crush's laugh not long before. The two of them let out teasing 'ooh's at me, my face heating up when I realised why.

"Tonight would be a great time to confess, you know. I could always sneak up to you guys and hold up some mistletoe if you can't wait until midnight." Vernon teased, wiggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes. Did I really have the guts to confess to him? "No, really, tonight is great. You literally have a perfect excuse to kiss him. Take it, please. For both of-" his eyes widened "Us." He croaked, his voice higher pitched than normal. I chewed my lip. Was it a good idea? I mean.. if it went wrong I could always play it off with "no no I just wanted that kiss y'know I don't like you like that pffft what".. right?

And like that, I decided that's what I would do. I sat anxiously throughout the belated Christmas present opening, eyes constantly flickering up to check the time. It was 11pm, and the presents were nearly all opened, yet it felt like there were still loads left. And then it was 11:50pm and finally the last present was unwrapped. I barely had chance to pay attention to what gifts people got each other. In my head, all I could think about was what was going to happen at midnight. I briefly met eyes with the man on my mind, smiling shyly over at him as he did the same, the thought of kissing him in a few minutes making my head go fuzzy.

With a few minutes to spare until midnight, all of us poured out onto the balcony. I tried to look for a certain someone amongst the small crowd, but somehow he seemed to have disappeared. I wanted to scream. I had to find him soon, or I'd never get that new years kiss. In the midst of looking for him, I felt someone tap my shoulder. "Hey y/n, looking forward to the new year?" They asked. I turned my head, seeing Jeonghan standing there with a shy grin on his face. I returned his smile, growing nervous. I nodded, unable to speak. 

"10!" No, I'm not ready just yet.

"9!" I can't do this.

"8!" I need some more time.

"7!" One of the boys bumped into me, whispering an apology. 

"6!" Please.. 

"5!" I felt Jeonghan's gaze on me.

"4!" Give me a few more seconds. 

"3!" There's no time. 

"2!" Someone tapped my shoulder again.

"1!" I turned to look at Jeonghan.

Midnight. He leaned down, capturing my lips in the gentlest kiss I'd ever had.

And I hated it, because I wanted to run away. I couldn't find him, I couldn't find my crush and now I was being kissed by someone else. Someone who was lovely, and was by no means a bad kisser, but who wasn't him. What was I supposed to do? My mind glazed over and my body stood still. I needed to push him away but I didn't want to upset him, yet I couldn't lead him on either. But before I could work out what to do, he was pulling away and midnight had come and gone. I could hear him giggling excitedly to himself as he pulled me in for a hug. As my mind started to emerge from its daze, I looked up at the others and the first face I saw was his. Standing there right at the front was Seungkwan, eyes glossy and the colour drained from his face. I saw him swallow the lump in his throat and close his eyes, eyebrows knitting together. I wanted to reach out to him and go after him to explain, but I was still being held by Jeonghan. Seungkwan turned away, head down, and weaved his way through the small crowd.

Vernon looked between his friend and me, worry etched into his face. He covered his face with his hands, disappointed. After what felt like an eternity, Jeonghan let me go, and like a missile I was off, brain no longer caring what he'd think of me running away like that. Suddenly the party didn't feel like a party anymore. I stared at Seungkwan's back as he hunched over a table. If only I could have found him before the countdown. I wanted to explain, but I was scared that my words wouldn't come out right and all I wanted to do was leave.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Previous ☆ Next ☆ Teaser

[imasimpforstevengrant]

I feel you

Author's note:

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

For you again, lovelies!

This is the first smut I write after almost two years. I hope you like it!

As always, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language.

____________________________________

Summary: Follow up to "I understand you".

As his strange relationship with Harleen oscillates between friendship and desire, Arthur takes the things to another level.

Warnings: angst, self hatred, mentions of masturbation, swearing, house breaking, strong sexual themes and smut.

Words: 6.258

Part 1:

Part 2:

____________________________________

Arthur couldn't sleep that night. His mind, overtaken by a growing confidence, tormented with new feelings for her created a dark, devilish smile in his face. He closed the door carefully, taking off his hoodie, shirt and shoes, wearing only sweatpants around the house, smoking a cigarette. He sat on the couch, knees bouncing. Something in his chest burns. That night Arthur felt different. He felt sure of his actions, instead of the usual anxiety and fear. Replaying the wonderful moment which he was the protagonist of, savoring every detail, while directing to the table. Her voice echoed through his head, her smile painting across his memory, the way she looked at him. His feet weren't able to keep still and Arthur knew this hyperventilation was caused by the shock of his first intimate contact with a woman. He already planned what he would do once they'd meet again. Probably to take her to dinner or simply going to the playground with a coffee and cigarettes to spend the night talking.

Handing himself his treasured journal, Arthur searched for the section dedicated to her. Grabbing a pen, he wrote her name. Misspelled, but affectionately.

Harlen Quenzel.

He tried in vain to write anything else, because his mind clouded basking in a bliss he had never felt before.

The blinding white light coming from above the kitchen hindered the happy replay of the image of Harleen coming closer to him to kiss his lips. But he simply turned it off. The tips of his fingers touched the dry flesh blessed by her mouth. Lighting a cigarette he fantasizes now. Taking her in the floor, in the bedroom or in the couch... She would love it. Arthur guaranteed himself that. The proof was clear: she had enjoyed his sudden and explosive display of passion. He suppressed a chuckle, afraid of another fit of laughter. But it did not go further. He stood in the dark for a while, before going to the couch to try to get some sleep. His mind was way too excited to even hold his legs still. The lucky loner grabbed the pack of cigarettes, smoking another one immediately after finishing the other one. Thing was, he couldn't consummate his passion in this moment... But he certainly could let his mind fly by thinking about Harleen and her virtues for now. Arthur headed to the bathroom.

A little joy given by himself wouldn't be so bad. ________________________________________

Over the next two months, the strange relationship between Arthur and Harleen grew from a friendship that had frequent outbursts of passion to long hours of talking about anything, from work to jokes.

As much as Arthur felt a silently uncontrollable lust for Harleen, he truly felt affection and caring for her. This was shown in small gestures like inviting her to dinner or waiting up late when her shift was over whenever neither of them would spend the entire night sleeping. They had each other and it was okay with that. In was in these situations where their bond grew. It was so ironic that the one thing that prevented an actual rest to his tormented mind also allowed to have the closest and most meaningful relationship he ever had in his life.

Arthur became more introverted than he already was. He didn't talk too much at work and had the growing tendency to isolate from others. To his co-workers this was probably another demonstration of his deteriorated mental state but Arthur was too busy trying to cope with these new feelings. He was asked more than once about this but he avoided to answer, limiting to reply he was okay. At the end of the day, the party clown left with a anxious pace. His co-workers were sure Arthur had finally lost his mind. And in some way, he did. Why was he in a rush? They would never know.

It was saturday when things changed. Arthur came back from a gig to Haha's with his clown make up on. Once in, he cleaned it from his face to leave without saying anything afterwards, too withdrawn into his daydreaming. He set a foot into the bus, as always, facing the window. The lights of daylight disappeared into the darkness or the night, rain pouring out. Arthur shielded from the cold sinking into his partly tattered hoodie. By this hour, Harleen should have been in her workplace. He just hoped no one would harm her at the time of her return. Arthur thought he could wait for her at the building's entrance, making sure she was safe. Harleen would like it.

He thought this weekend would be different. And Arthur had a very good reason why.

_________________________________________

It was Sunday when Arthur got up early to clean the house and to prepare breakfast for Penny to feed during the first lights of day.

It was in this way he could focus completely on his upcoming date at night. As the day vanished for nighttime to arrive, he put a cheap cologne on, his pants perfectly ironed. Same with the shirt and red vest. And the usual yellow hoodie Harleen learned to love so much. His excitement reflected in his voice as he waved goodbye to his always distracted mother, who simply waved back, not interested on how much brighter Arthur's eyes were in that moment. Heading to the door, he heard a frustrating ask:

"Happy, can you put this letter in the box?"

His shoulders lose strength. Arthur tried his best to hide his annoyance.

"It's for Thomas Wayne".

"I know, mom", the whisper was almost inaudible. Returning to the living room, he took the letter gently just to jump back to the door to free himself, "I'll be back at night".

She just nodded. And he finally breathed his freedom, feeling more confident than ever. But his sense of victory over the world vanished as he realized he still had that fucking letter in hand. A tired sigh leaves his lips. But he ran as fast as possible to reach the first floor to get rid of the piece of useless attempt to get attention from a man who maybe didn't remember her. The rusty locker received it and Arthur at last could set a foot outside the building, crossing his arms.

Harleen arrived a few seconds later. Arthur smiled, coming closer to her. Her outfit was unpretentious but neat: black pants and sneakers, a red wool sweater. Her hair was done into two colourful buns and a few strands which fell into her face. But the thing he liked the most was that blood red lipstick... And her grin made it better.

"Hello, clown man", Harleen nuzzled his nose tenderly. It was an habit he loved from her, as any other touch. He chuckled, greeting her back. Then both got out of the building, leading to the donut shop so they could have coffee and toast.

"So, how was your week?", Harleen asked as Arthur held his cup, drinking the steamy hot liquid.

"It was fine. I had a gig in a children's hospital. It turned out great because it was a charity event".

"Really?"

"Yeah. They were... Getting money for families that cannot afford to pay treatments".

Harleen nodded, warming her hands with the mug. Arthur then returned the question. Harleen told him the bar had more regulars than usual. This caught her eye, and paid very much attention to it during the weekly shift.

"What is it?".

"People are drinking their souls out" she replied, after eating her toast, "and that's not all. There was a recently fired guy that feared if Wayne is elected mayor, unemployment and riots will get worse."

Arthur lowered his head. He ate the toast to state:

"Why do so many people believe in that man, anyway?"

"He's rich, successful and an entrepreneur. Men like him have no idea how to run a city for the simple fact that entrepreneurs like him see people as numbers, not as complex sentient beings."

"How come?", Arthur fixed his collar.

"They only care for economy, Arthur. They disregard the fact that not everyone has the same chances for success they had and therefore any help for impoverished people is nothing but a "waste of money". Wayne is convinced that everyone who receives any kind of welfare doesn't want to work." Arthur remained silent for a while, processing what she just said.

"Men like him will never know what is like to be someone like you or me", Harleen concluded, finishing her coffee.

"But at least we have our jobs" Arthur commented comically.

"Yeah, as long as we get paid" and both laughed.

The shop was almost empty, which made easier to listen to the radio while talking. This gave them more topics to talk about. But then a song came out. Arthur knew it, he closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the gloomy tune of the song:

"King of all

Hear me call

Hear my name

Carnival"

Harleen did not interrupt. She understood that Arthur, as an extremely introverted person, couldn't be interrupted when exploring, talking or listening. It was pleasant to see him glad or enjoying things for once. She smiled as he mouthed the lyrics, which he knew perfectly. As the song came to an end, Harleen extended her hand, eyeing Arthur to look for his approval. As much as he enjoyed the sudden outbursts of affection, Arthur still wasn't used to publicly show it. Harleen comprehended as well and wouldn't force him to do it. She discovered it when going back from a previous date when she just held his hand. He became a blushing mess but it didn't go further, thank goodness.

Arthur noted the hand whose black and red nail polish established a hurtful contrast in comparison to her light skin. He then looked at her. He slid his own towards Harleen's. Their hands intertwined. Another little touch and he was already yearning for her. Arthur wanted to love her without words, without distance between them. Just the two of them. He wanted so much to tell her, but didn't dare to. Despite the fact he adored her, there was something he could never tell her... Yet.

There was something Arthur loathed about himself but he did his best to not to give it too much importance, choosing to focus on other things, instead. Arthur Fleck was a man and as such, he had needs. But the need wasn't the problem. Satisfying it was. He was comprehensive enough to understand that motherly affection was the closest thing he ever had to love. Devoid of any bond with anyone else, he frequently masturbated to soothe the sexual need. Usually to porn magazines whose pages he tore up to stick them in his journal. A fulfilling sexual life was a dream, far away from his reach. He could only see it but never take part in it, as it was with everything in his life. An eternal spectator, never a protagonist. Thinking of her, lusting after her... And he wasn't able to even mutter a fucking word. He cursed the emptiness roaming during all his life. Because he had nothing to offer her except desire. His inexperience was never a problem, given his surrender to embrace a life of solitude. Until now. Her arrival to his life made him remember how much of a man he was. And her kindness just fanned the fire within him.

Harleen squeezed his hand a little more, noting his unsettled nerve. Arthur sighed, out of the gloomy, bleak storm that creeped out as a dark mist in his mind. But her face shines as a small light of hope. Her eyes promised so many good things that he couldn't bring himself to believe.

"What's troubling you, Mr. Fleck?" her smile was accomplice, as if she knew what was lurking into the labyrinth of his mind, but wanting to hear it from his mouth.

"I just... I was thinking about...", Harleen encouraged him to tell her. He inhaled deeply, lighting a cigarette to cope with the newfound stress. Once again, his everlasting negative thoughts clouded the moment. The vocal cords were unresponsive. His hand broke contact with hers to hold his forehead, looking for the right words to speak. His knees bounced. Harleen leaned in, waiting.

"Artie?"

The tender pronunciation of the diminutive form of his name turned his gaze to her.

"I think I prefer to tell you... In private".

Harleen nodded. The response sounded too dark. And she knew that if Arthur talked like that, it was something serious. They left the donut shop, walking towards the subway. It was almost empty and dark. Just a few people were on it. The couple sit down, with Harleen tangling the arm around his to tilt her head on his shoulder. Arthur kept his eyes on the window, trying to figure out how the fuck he'd tell her about it.

As they reached the last stop, they left the subway station to step up the stairs and then Arthur reached a dirty, dark public restroom surrounded on the outside of a fence. Both stopped for a moment before the gnawed door. Harleen looked up to the party clown's dark features. He pronounced no words.

"Arthur?"

"There's something I need to tell you", his murmur comes shy, cast down.

"What is it?"

He stepped away from her. His hands clasp his mouth, disapproving his thoughts. He shook his head, eyes shut. Circling his own personal space, lightheaded. Harleen came closer to him.

"Is it bad?"

Arthur glared at her, guilty.

"I mean... I don't know how to tell you. I just hope you don't laugh at me".

"Why would I do that?".

Arthur half opened his eyes.

"I want...", It took a long, deep inhalation to pronounce the first part. He coughed, to clear his throat seconds later, "I need to tell you... That I really like you... And--", he silenced his words, trying to put them correctly in his mind.

"And?"

"See" he sighed, "I've..."

Harleen widened her eyes in anticipation.

"I've been thinking about you a lot... and I would be lying if I tell you I don't want something else".

"What is 'something else'?" Harleen whispered.

Arthur processed the question. And then answered:

"It's just..." He brushed the small beads of sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I love the way you touch me, Harleen" Arthur continued, "and I simply can't get enough of it".

"Because we both need it, Arthur. I love just as much as you do. That makes it so satisfying", he chuckled, humbled. Harleen expected more of him.

"That's not all", he gazed not to her. This was the one moment that could end it all or strengthen this precious bond of theirs.

"Arthur" she called him, "don't be afraid. Please tell me".

"I want to sleep with you", Arthur finally confessed, gazing at her. His eyes confirmed the statement. He blinked slowly, wanting her to see the animalistic yearn on them.

Harleen stared at him, shocked of how much he trusted her to confess something so intimate. His breathe had shortened. His green eyes glowed like emeralds, embellished even more with his pupils dilated. The blonde invited him inside the bathroom so they could keep baring their souls. Arthur inspected the place to make sure it was completely safe to stay there. Harleen locked the door once they knew it was unoccupied.

"I don't want to beg for love" Arthur said, his voice raspy, "but I don't want to lie to you. I want to know if you feel the same" Arthur spoke in a very low voice. Harleen looked at him, infatuated before this new dark vibe from him. He looked like a totally different person. Her fingers slid into his curls.

"I knew it already, Arthur."

"And why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because I can understand why you want it".

Arthur turned to her. Never in his life he felt more expecting. Harleen explained, in very simple terms, that she found his attachment understandable: Arthur had been deprived of love during all his life and this new bond made him feel important. From becoming visible and cared for to reaffirm his manhood through sexual desire. Arthur heard every word carefully, and it made sense. Everything made fucking sense. It was through sexual intercourse that men felt loved.

Love.

It was always about love, at the end of all.

Harleen returned the cigarette to him.

"Don't blame yourself. You're a human, after all. Sex is the most pleasant of human activities, so don't feel bad for enjoying it".

"It's not that I don't enjoy it. I don't feel ready to do it, despite of how much I want it".

Harleen frowned, and her silence just made Arthur confess one of his most (if not the most) shameful secrets. Only now she knew the extent of her impact in his life. She knew a lot about him, including the seven medications he was in, but this? She had been aware of the way he looked at her, but hearing him actually admitting it out loud made her shudder. Her arms locked around his shoulders to pull Arthur to a kiss in the cheek.

"It's not a race or a competition. You just feel and act according to your instincts. Also, I'd be lying too if I said I don't want anything else" Arthur sank his eyes into Harleen's, "quite frankly, we were close to have sex the night we first talked if it wasn't because I was too tired to do so, but now, if you don't feel ready to do it, I won't pressure you to do anything".

"Starting a friendship in that way? I like it" he hummed, mischievous.

"We are not friends... Because... Friends are not supposed to touch each other. That's what lovers do. But... We aren't lovers, yet" Harleen whispered.

"Then what are we?" Arthur asked.

"We are, Arthur. We simply are" this time her kiss directed to his mouth. _________________________________________

Arthur changed his damp clothes to avoid the cold. The bedroom TV was turned on as well as the hall lights. The usual. He prepared the dinner for his mother, bathing her and making sure she'd go to bed. The conversation was the same. Thomas fucking Wayne and the fucking letters. Arthur had no interest on losing energy on nonsense, so he only nodded. He took a shower and shaved the growing beard and wore his grey sweatpants. A few observations written in the pages of the journal about his day at Haha's and Arthur felt his routine was finished, therefore he could count down to the moment when Harleen was back at home from work. His eyes darted at the clock. 1:14 am. Less than two hours for her return. He felt confident enough to go to her apartment and stay all night with her. He smoke five cigarettes in the meantime, walking over the house. Turning the TV on so time wouldn't pass so long. He sat at the couch, waiting for an old rerun of Murray Franklin's Show. An actor was to be interviewed but he couldn't focus entirely on it. He laid down. His mind pictured her beside him. However, as much as he cherished all the physical and emotional affection from her, it wasn't enough anymore. It was hard to accept it but that's just the way it was. As the show ended, an old movie ran. Arthur turned the device off. The clock sets the time: 2:24 am. Less than hour. He got up, turning the lights off, hoodie in hand and determination in his mind. Locking the door, Arthur left. He walked across the halls, stepping down to the destination: 7H. The door was unlocked, much to his surprise. The loner felt truly in home. If only she was in there for him to shower her in his affection. But he then realized the neon lights were on. His heart skipped a beat. The air seemed... Different. He stood as quiet as possible to see what was going on. The rain slightly broke the total silence that ruled the place. Arthur reached the living and then, only then, he saw her.

Harleen was placidly sleeping on the couch, wearing a two part, peach coloured pajamas. Her mane was a mess of white, blue and pink strands that fell over her face. Her head rested on a pillow and her pose revealed how comfy her sleep was. Kneeling beside the couch, Arthur leaned over her face, his fingers set aside the colourful mane to obtain the beautiful vision of her peaceful facial expression. His thumb glided over her lips, which he soon joined with his. It was slow, intimate kiss, full of subtle hunger.

Seconds later, her hands cupped his face to make the caress steadier, humming playfully. Arthur broke the kiss to eye her. Half sleep, Harleen smiled at him.

"Hey" he called, secretive.

"Good night, Mr. Fleck", she muttered, voice pasty, "another insomnia night?" but he shook the head.

"I thought you weren't here. I couldn't help it", he muttered.

“Never said I mind. Bar closed earlier and here I am”.

“Really? Why?”

“The riots, Arthur. Boss preferred to send us home before any damage could be done by the protesters”.

Arthur made room for himself in the cozy, fluffy long couch. Asking if she was okay, Harleen just replied she took a taxi to make home safely. Arthur sighed, relieved. The blonde smiled at him but didn’t move any further. He noticed that, blaming for being so inconsiderate. Getting into her apartment and disturbing her rest like that? What a awful friend (lover) he was! Recoiling with guilt and diving again in the brooding mood so typical on him, he distanced from his love. She fell asleep once more. Arthur kept his gaze on her, tracing invisible touches in her curves. She was so close yet so far. He wanted to be a part of her, to be with her.

Inside of her.

The calloused fingers held his face to wash away the shame. The nerves were too much to take. The laugh gestated in a noise initially deaf to hear from afar to a thunderous fit. Harleen jolted at the sudden outburst. Arthur couldn’t feel worse. The expression on his face was so desperate for silence that the blonde immediately went after him when he shrugged, attempting in vain to drown the horrible noise that made his vocal cords bleed. Harleen dissuaded Arthur of any idea of escape just to hold him. The mentally ill loner sank his face into her neck. The embrace didn’t stop the scandalous explosion to keep shattering the quietness of the place, sensing Harleen squeezed his faint figure, seemingly trying to put every piece of his broken yet beautiful soul to help to soothe the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“

Her voice hushed his apologize. As the din disappeared into nothingness, both returned to the living room on the couch but Arthur took a step back from her.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Harleen frowns. She gave him space to recover.

“Why what?”

“Why me?”, Arthur regained strength to ask her, staring at her for a long period of time, “of all men you can have, why me?”

For the first time, Harleen seemed upset.

“If you think I do this out of pity, you are very, very wrong” the fire in her eyes was fascinating.

“Then why?”

Harleen processed the question while Arthur desperately awaited the reason to be verbalised.

“Please”.

She gulped.

“Because you’re a good man, Arthur”.

The response was too simple to be believable, though it was grateful to hear a compliment from her. Desiring more, his stare pierced her soul, to let her take the hint. Imprisoned under the green spell of his, Harleen proceeded to continue:

“I mean- you are always trying to make people laugh, yet people don’t see you and you still continue. You love what you do, you have been kind to me, you care about your mother putting your well-being aside. Don’t you think that is worth enough?”

Arthur shut his eyes, his head to the left, lighting a cigarette while the bouncing knee betrayed his feeling of unsettlement. Harleen noticed it. Wind took words away. Actions prevailed in time.

Time! That’s precisely what he needed. Both battled uneasiness in their own, unique way. While Harleen on her own end of the couch thought on a way to help him, Arthur tried to give order to his convulsed mind. He constantly touched his forehead and chest but never dared to eye her, terrified that she would vanish. The damn cigarette placed again on his lips. The muteness grew so uncomfortable the loner returned to glare at the blonde. She slowly approached to him, searching in his face his approval to get closer. Afraid to disturb his personal space in the same way someone would be cautious when getting closer to a wild animal. Arthur gasped, his blood boiling in what seemed the exact moment that would define his life. Harleen crawled to him, reaching his shoulders to concrete her goal: sit in the space between his legs.

If Arthur believed that just a hug put him on fire, this new contact aroused him to the point of insanity. The blonde crowned the physical bond placing her head in the crook of his neck. The temptation to take her and possess her now was insufferable but he found the will to not give in into the impulsive reaction. How? He’d never know. His heart rate was so violent, so overwhelming that the threat of a heart attack was becoming more real. Harleen placed her hand on his chest, like caressing his damaged heart like a mother would do with an scared child. His lungs finally caught a calmer rhythm as minutes went by. Arthur craved new touches, new discoveries, yet he wanted to remain like this forever. He savoured the closeness of their bodies… but it wasn’t enough. Harleen surely knew it by the moment Arthur stopped smoking.

And whenever Arthur Fleck stopped smoking, it meant something serious got his attention.

As the last fire on the cigarette died on the ashtray, Arthur turned his focus completely on her. He’d return her the favour, since she invaded his personal space so shamelessly. Harleen distanced a bit from him to allow the hoodie to come off. She approved the sight with a wide smirk: despite what people could say about his figure, Arthur was not as thin as his outfit revealed. His bare upper body had a plenty of muscle in the biceps. She traced a finger across the aforementioned part to touch his jawline now, going down his neck and collarbone. Next, a nuzzle against his face to continue the intimate bond, brushing her lips with his, without kissing him. However there was no further reaction from him except for a serene look on his face at the caresses. As the touch came to an end, she kissed his mouth repeatedly, her lips curved into a smile. The gesture motivated his instinct to get the better of him. He rose his dark, thick eyebrow to let her know how much of an accomplice he turned out to be, like a warning of what he had planned for her.

It was almost a ritual. Whenever a situation turned out to be too unfamiliar or too good, his hands would act as the link to confirm his psyche wasn't playing tricks with him. But this wasn't only a situation. This was a person who unchained a situation. And how he thanked every second of it. It seemed a spark of happiness enlightened his life, for once. Probably because even fate believed that no human being should be so miserable. He needed a constant reaction from her to keep convincing himself this wasn’t a dream. To increase the enjoyment of his hands touching her, Arthur executed a move directed to her chest, gliding his hands over her breasts, covered by the thin fabric of the sleeveless shirt. Harleen gasped, eyeing the curious hands as they roamed upon that delicate part of her. Arthur was fascinated, as his grin evidently brought out.

Since he had understanding about sex, Arthur craved a woman’s touch. It began as wet dreams, continuing with the subsequent discover of porn, a source he always went to in order to provide himself a little satisfaction. He remembered the particularly unhappy time of highschool, where bullying and harsh looks were a routine. The laughing fits during class, boys from all ages mocking at him during recess. But lunchtime was the worst part. If he wasn’t beaten up, his food paid the price. Starving and tired, Arthur was relieved in part by dropping school. He wouldn’t have to deal with the brutality of his classmates anymore. Girls usually avoided him, scared by his weak appearance. He never asked a girl for a date, afraid to be taken as a pervert. He just repressed any sexual need, feeling like a depraved creep for being curious about female body.

The mental drift continued for a couple of minutes when he noticed that Harleen wasn’t too quiet now, her shortened breath revealing an intense joy at his touch. As it happened always in a moment of adrenaline, through his arms an herculean strength ran so intensely that made her sit on his lap with no problem. The most exciting part of this new bold position was that he could face his lover, aiming his interest to her neck, covering it with slow, paused kisses. Harleen supports on his shoulders, delighted at his intimate exploration. Her shortened breath became a heavy panting while the latter morphed into a loud moan. Arthur immediately looked up to the blonde, her mane tickling his face. Did he caused such wonderful reaction? Him? Arthur Fleck, the perpetual loser, the unfunny clown, the embodiment of what a man should never be?

Suddenly, the grip loosened. Arthur felt he couldn’t concentrate anymore on Harleen in the same way. A sensation similar to fainting snatched away the energy on his arms. A surge of boiling blood flowed down his groin.

Arthur knew what this meant and her thighs straddling his hips, exactly where his searing intimacy reacted to such delectable recreation.

This encouraged him to let his wildest side come out. The pale hands lifted the shirt to the level of her neck, obtaining her bare chest to devour while getting into the inner part of the shirt, leaving the barrier between skin and fabric behind his back. Harleen reared up before the fulminant demonstration of lust, screaming while clawing at his shoulders. She felt his mouth, eager and famished, assiduously paying dedication to her soft sinuosities. The position enabled her to coddle him as well.

Because he fucking deserved it.

Her fingers stirred the dark curls under the cloth, begging for more. When Arthur felt the arousal was too much to keep building it up to simple caresses, he threw the shirt aside to obtain her upper nude body to admire. His eyes widened as the glimpse was even more beautiful in reality than in his fantasies. He hummed, approving the sight, too anxious to take her and yet so insecure if she’d be satisfied.

The blonde tugged into his belt, making clear her desire to pursue a deeper insight of their relationship. Her body performed a subtle movement to make him lay down on his back. As Arthur got rid of his clothes, so she did. Once she reached her own full nudity, he covered his mouth, amazed. Forget the models in his journal. Harleen had no comparison. And she probably knew it.

“Do you like what you see, mister Fleck?” she purred, seductive. He panted, regaining the oxygen to answer.

“Yes” was all he answered. Arthur could hardly speak at this point. His eyes said everything, anyway. The tease was a gift before the beloved blonde climbed atop him. Arthur helped her, grabbing her by the hips he longed so much to trace his fingers on.

Harleen leaned over his face to grant it a last kiss, enjoying this final step preceding to the loss of individuality.

She seemed so unreal, even when her full weight upon him proved wrong. And he knew exactly what to do to prove his psyche otherwise.

The last trace of doubt disappeared completely as his own sex found itself inside of her at last. The insertion was very slow, no rushes, so both lovers could memorize every sensation. The pressure around his hardened length turned out to be a pleasure beyond the thinkable, causing a shuddering, fastened breath to crumple his lungs. He arched his back, a loud, pleasurable moan escaping his mouth. As he got used to the warm welcome she gave him, his hands held her hips to proceed. Harleen lolled her head back, moaning softly, rejoicing at his presence inside of her delicate womanhood. Stillness held their bodies together as they enjoyed the sensation brought by the union.

Arthur recovered from the initial shock before the long desired loss of his hated celibacy started to take place. Harleen, naked much to the delight of his eyes, had her white, porcelain skin beautifully shaded by the pink and blue dim neon lights. Arthur smirked at her, admiring her body with his hands, not to convince himself that he was not hallucinating but to make sure to tell her how much he had desired to do this.

Just then Harleen did her magic.

“Let me show you that you’re not invisible”.

The rhythm worked in a slow pace. The blonde’s masterful moves made him moan and groan loudly as she straddled his hips. Everything he imagined with her appalled in comparison to this. Harleen, so provocative and prodigious, was so delicate in this erotic surrender. Like almost floating in the air. Arthur wondered how much it could take until reaching the peak of the carnal pleasure. But the obnoxious thud that beat his brain even in this moment found itself defeated by this lovely and pleasurable novelty, eventually. Watching Harleen on top of him was an irresistible landscape and Arthur couldn’t be more grateful for it even if he tried.

And her moans didn’t help either. Harleen was too lost in the moment to even talk to him, restricting her vocal expressions of pleasure just to plead for more.

Arthur plunged in this novelty to feel like a man for the first time in his life. He chuckled, joyful. His concentration centered exclusively on her. Harleen was a living mess of ecstasy, away from reality. He couldn’t love her more, specially when she called his name. The grip on her hips became tighter, as the warm space that surrounded his arousal narrowed. Her moans arose to louder screams. Now that was something he wanted to hear, sliding his fingers up to her waist to her chest.

The sense of control began to disappear eventually.

The instigation inspired a new move from Arthur, who got up to enclose her waist to absorb her essence. Fastening the moves, the blonde threw her arms to his neck, increasing the union as much as they were able. Their screams echoed through the apartment, announcing the proximity of the climax.

The final frenzy took ahold of the lovers. It hit Harleen first, as the convulsion whipped her insides, her figure trembling.

Arthur was convinced his soul was living his body at the time of his climax. While Harleen allowed him to flood her with his seed, he held her hips to keep inside her the longest time possible. The passionate, fulfilling embrace that served as the conclusion to the act recomposed their sense of reality. Once the physical bond was broken, the lovers laid back in the couch. Arthur still had a hard time recovering from his first sexual experience. His lungs finally eased down as Harleen reassuringly talked to him. Arthur opened his eyes, to smile to her.

“That…” he stuttered, breathless, “that… was… fucking sensational”.

Harleen supported her head in her hand.

“Couldn’t agree more”.

Arthur smiled and didn’t resist the temptation to sink into her arms, awaiting for sleep to come. He gave himself in completely, handing his vulnerability to her. Harleen sighed, palming his back. Arthur recoiled in pain and she didn’t hesitate to apologize.

“What’s this?” Harleen was going to get up to check him out but he prevented it, shaking his head. Apparently it didn’t have too much importance for him.

“I want this” his whisper sounded legitimately grateful. He took her hands to kiss them dearly, “I want this”.

She nodded and then changed her position so Arthur could place himself upon her. Her open arms received his fragile, starving shape to grant it comfort, like remind him of how much of a man he could be. The loner muttered something, but Harleen was already sleeping. Arthur didn’t move at all, silently enjoying her chest moving up and down. He planted a kiss above her right breast and closed his eyes.

The rain intensified. And Arthur fell asleep in a state of complete inner peace for the first time in his life as the pink lights dissipated into black as his eyes slowly closed.

It was the most beautiful darkness he’d ever been in.

[turnaboutimagines]

Ace demiboy reader x also ace Sebastian Debeste. You're a musician and you end up meeting when you're performing in the park. You've got a crush on Sebastian but you're also worried that he wouldn't be fine with being in a relationship with an asexual. You're playing of your worries and he notices. Reader plays either a typical street performer instrument, an accordian, or perhaps an Otamatone...

As an ace writer, I was very excited to write for this request.  Okay, terrible overdone pun aside!!!  I opted for an accordion because I’m very fond of them.  I hope you enjoy it, anon!  ^^Feat. Ace!Trans!Male!Reader and Ace!Sebastian Debeste.

Your fingers dance across the melody keys as the bellows expand and contract with each of your movements, accordion music filling the air.  The sun is shining overhead and a gentle breeze is rustling through the nearby bushes.  A perfect day for playing out in one of your usual haunts, the heart of a bustling park.

A few people stop, listen, and then take their leave.  You don’t really pay any of them too much mind, sparing a smile and a quiet ‘thank you’ whenever one leaves a tip.  Sometimes you’re even forgetting to do that much, though.  It’s just hard to focus as you wait for Sebastian to show up.

He’s one of your regular audience members who often crosses by a couple of your usual places.  The two of you have... well, you don’t entirely know what your relationship is.  All you know is that the way he ‘conducts’ your performances makes you laugh and you really enjoy talking with him during your breaks, getting surprisingly deep sometimes.  Being around him makes you happy and you want more of it.

You think that there’s something there, the flirting seems to be mutual at least... so you decided that today would be the day you finally act on it and ask him out to a simple cafe date if he shows up.  It’s not exactly guaranteed, after all, even if this is one of the usual places you encounter him.

Several songs come and go without him appearing, and with each one, you slip deeper and deeper into your anxieties.  What if he doesn’t like men romantically?  What if your being transgender is an issue for him when it came to a romantic relationship?  What if he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who’s asexual?

What if...  What if...  What if...

Each question crumbles your resolve a little bit more.  Maybe asking him out on a date is a bad idea, perhaps just staying friends first would be for the best... even if you really like him.  Sure enough, he appears, bright red jacket draped around his shoulders and baton in hand.

The sight of him alone is enough to put your mind into a temporary ease, laughing to yourself as he raises his baton with a flourish and begins to conduct to your music (as always).  He flashes a smile at you, soft and easy, the kind that makes it feel like a beautiful day and sets butterflies aflutter in your stomach.

Unfortunately, like all things, the song comes to an end and in the silence, your anxieties return.  Your legs ache from standing and performing as long as you have and... it’s now or never.  You might as well get it over with if you’re going to do it at all.  

Taking a sharp breath in, you set your accordion down and sit down on the bench you were stationed at.  The loitering passersby disperse (well, all but one), a couple leaving you a few dollars in tips as you take a deep drink from your bottle of water.  Sebastian retracts his baton and joins you on the bench, as has become customary for the two of you.

However, he seems closer than usual, his shoulder practically brushing against your own.  Did the two of you always sit like this or—?

“That was some phantasmagorical playing just now!”

“I think you may mean phenomenal, Sebastian.  Phantasmagorical has to do with dreams and illusions and stuff,” you say, having to bite back a smile.  He’s really too cute...

His ahoge straightens upwards at the gentle correction and you can see a hint of a blush spread across his cheeks.  However, he quickly recovers and gives you a sage nod.

“Ah, yes!  Phenomenal playing is what I meant!  Thank you for the correction.”

“Hey, words are hard.”  You give him a small shrug, doing your best to reassure him as you always do.

“Words are, indeed, most difficult.”

You nod, letting out a soft sigh as the two of you settle into a comfortable silence.  He has no idea...  Between the words ‘asexual’ and ‘date’ you’re having one hell of a problem asking what you want.  But you need to, it shouldn’t be hard.  Just invite him to a cafe like he’s a friend and then tack on that it’s a date.  

“Hey, Sebastian...”

“Hm?”

“After this, if you have the time, w-would you, um, like to go grab a bite to eat and some coffee together...?”

As a date.

The words tie your tongue and don’t make it past your lips as your heart pounds like a kick drum in your chest.

Sebastian perks up at the question, eyes lighting up in a way you hadn’t seen before.  “I’d like that very much, yes.  My work's over for the day, so that won’t be a problem.”

You should be happy that he agreed to spend time with you.  And yet... you feel even worse as your mind races with its anxiety.  Does he just want to be friends with you?  Would he have agreed if you’d managed to get those last three words out?  Would he have agreed if he knew that you’re asexual?

His usual affect drops, brows furrowing with concern as he sees the expression on your face.  “What’s the matter?  Did I say something wrong?” 

“N-No!  Of course not.”

“...I see.”  He extends his baton once again, tapping it against his open palm as he thinks for a few moments before looking back at you.  “Then... what’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing.”

That gets him pulling down on his baton, flexing it in his hands as he looks at you.

“...You don’t have to tell me, but... it hardly seems like nothing.  If there’s something worrying you, you know you can tell me, right?  I can be the Best listener when I want to be.”

That draws a smile out of you and it lessens the weight building up in your chest.  It’s a confirmation that he really does care about you and it gives you the courage to get out some of the words weighing so heavily on your mind.

“It’s just that I’m... asexual.”

His baton goes flying through the air as he lets go of it, striking him squarely in the cheek.  You wince at the contact, instinctively reaching out to soothe in the injury.  But your hand stops quickly, uncertain and scared as to what his shocked expression means.

“Y-You, too?!”

You stare at him.  “...You...too?”

“Correct!”  He gives you a brilliant smile, as if the red welt on his face is nothing to him as he waves his baton about once again.  “I am asexual, as well, you see!  Mr. Edgeworth explained the word to me a few months ago and it fit like a shoe.”

“...Like a glove?”

“Precisely what I meant!” he says with a nod, but the dark blush that spreads across his cheeks.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, all the remaining weight dissipating as the warm sunlight washes over you.  Perhaps this is why the two of you got on so well, you’re more alike than you originally thought... you want to get to know him more.  And not as friends, but as boyfriends.

“So, does that mean you’d be okay with making it a date, then?”

His conducting comes to an abrupt halt, the curled ahoge going rigid yet again for the second time that day as his eyes dart around—seemingly connecting some dots of logic.  

However, his shock quickly melts into a grin as he recomposes himself.  “Y-Yes, of course!  I’d very much enjoy that... and you had nothing to worry about.”

“...I’m glad.”

The two of you share a smile, but like all good things... it must come to an end.  You still have some more songs to perform and money to make.  With a sigh, you stand up and raise your accordion as Sebastian joins you and raises his baton.

For the remainder of your songs, he stands in front of you, conducting with the most enthusiasm and you can’t help but return in kind, swaying more to the beat and a silly grin on your face—heart singing with anticipation to the tune of your music.

[lycienne]

Idea for a Jacob/Staci fic

Jacob still has Staci captured, but doesn't condition him or anything. At first, he's just confined to a room (maybe even one with an arcade) gets regular meals ect. When Staci promises Jacob that he won't run away he becomes kind if Jacob's assistant. Staci follows him everywhere, taking notes, commands some of the lower level soldiers when Jacob has no time for that, runs errands which doesn't involve leaving the Veterans Center's grounds.

Somewhere along that way they become attracted to each other. Jacob is happy having someone around who has his own mind, doesn't just follow his orders, who isn't just grossed out by him and most importantly isn't related to him. Staci is stubborn and rolls his eyes when Jacob starts again with his religious ramblings and is the only one to point out that Jacob doesn't even believe them himself. But he's clever enough not to cross a line since Joseph has his spies everywhere.

Staci on the other hand is happy that Jacob respects him, treats him well (compared to what he has heard about Hudson and Burke) gives him a certain amount of freedom. Jacob protects him from jealous cultists who don't like the idea that a "prisoner" gets more access to a herald than they get (Jacob even shot one of his chosen who attempted to kill Staci, and proceeded to yell that anyone else trying to commit treason would face a much harsher punishment).

Later, Jacob would take Staci with him when meeting with his brothers and Faith, much to their surprise. He justifies it by saying he needs someone to check that Faith doesn't but any Bliss in his food and drinks, that he doesn't trust his soldiers enough to keep Staci safe while he's gone. Staci is a hostage after all, and if one of his soldiers might "accidentally" hurt or kill him they might lose an important gambling point to the resistance which so far has maintained a low profile in the Whitetail Mountains compared to the other regions of Hope County.

The fact that Jacob just likes having Staci around conveniently falls under the table. When time goes by, Jacob relies on Staci, who has proven himself loyal to him (and be it only to save his life) more and more. Since Staci is around Jacob at almost all times, it's inevitable that he witnessed a PTSD breakdown, most likely when they are alone finishing some documents for Joseph after a hard day of training new recruits.

It's the first time Staci sees Jacob cry, apologizing to some guy named Miller, and cursing over and over again that he just wants a normal fucking life. Staci tries to comfort Jacob by awkwardly padding his back, but it doesn't take long for Jacob to pull him into his lap and hug him like Staci is some kind of teddy bear replacement. Staci just let's it happen, hell he even hugs Jacob back, he just can't stand the sight of the person who has had so much mercy on him crying. Shortly after that Jacob tells Staci everything. There's news out that the rookie deputy has killed Faith and is moving to his region next, for some reason sparing John.

Jacob wants Staci to know that he (Jacob) has to die to fulfill his brothers prophecy,that his life doesn't matter, that Staci has to flee to John's region once he's dead, so he can be saved. And God, how Jacob wants Staci to be saved. If anyone deserves to walk through Eden's Gate, it's him.

Staci of course is furious. He knows that Joseph is manipulating Jacob and he knows that Jacob knows he's being manipulated by his brother. Jacob is a monster, maybe even a psychopath (although Staci doesn't believe that for a second) and Staci did his hardest in trying to hate him, but it didn't work. Both of them have danced around each other for so long it's almost heartbreaking. And Staci snaps. He walks over to Jacob, pulls his head down and kisses him. Tells him Jacob won't him to sacrifice himself, that he will stop him, no matter the cost. Jacob doesn't know if he should laugh or cry and decides just to kiss Staci back as if his life depended on it.

A few weeks later that theory should be tested, as Rook has come to kill Jacob while he and Staci where patrolling the area. Jacob went alone went the first noticed Rook, telling his chosen to restrain Staci until he came back (not that Jacob was planning to return, since he was aware that the time to fulfill his brothers prophecy had come). For the first time in years Jacob prays to God, thanking him for his time with Staci and begging him to keep Staci safe should to collapse really come.

Staci, on the other hand, struggles and finally breaks free out of the chosens's grip, just to run after Jacob. He finds both Rook and Jacob on a nearby hilltop pointing guns at each other. That God nobody is hurt yet, but how things are going, that's only a matter of seconds. At some point Staci thinks he's getting suicidal, too, when he steps between the two. Both Rook and Jacob are startled since they were so caught up in the chase they didn't even realize Staci was coming.

That's the dumbest thing he's done in his life, Staci is sure of that, but he can't just have Jacob sacrificing himself, not here, not yet, not ever. Despite what he has done. There's a curious disconnect in Staci's brain between Jacob the herald and Jacob the person. Jacob the herald might be a monster, evil, a psychopath and everything else people say about him, but Jacob the person isn't. Jacob the person is a soldier who wanted a family to come home to, who's happy when he has people to protect who love and cherish him or what he does, who spends hours hunting just to find the perfect animal for his brother to stuff.

When Staci dares Rook to shoot him to get to Jacob, all three of them are shocked. Rook, because he couldn't believe his colleague would risk his life for a certifiable monster, Jacob, because Staci actually managed to escape his chosen and tries to protect him with his life rather than running straight into the arms of the resistance and finally Staci, because his brain caught up with his actions.

Rook was the first one to come to his senses, shouting for Staci to get out of the way, get somewhere safe, "until that problem is solved". He doesn't physically move or try to get Staci away from Jacob though. Staci knows at this point it's all or nothing. In seconds Jacob will awake out of whatever stasis he's in and shove him out of the way. Staci wants to explain everything but theres no time, so he acts. He turns around and kisses Jacob with all that he's got. All that he wants to say in one action. Are here tears on his face? Staci doesn't know, doesn't care. Either he and Jacob both survive the next seconds, minutes or they don't. It's simple as that. "I'm sorry Rook, I love him, I just love Jacob", is all he manages to say and he means it. Staci doesn't even realize it's the first time he confessed his love to Jacob.

At that moment the world suddenly starts to move again. Jacob grabs his hand and runs. Through the forest, away from Rook. Staci faintly hears shouts and gunshots in the distance, but he doesn't care. He runs and runs and runs next to Jacob until they arrive in one of his hiding places. "We have to talk to Joseph", is all that Jacob says between hastily shared kisses full of love and desire. When Staci asks him later why, his only answer is "because I want to live". For some reason that makes Staci happier than anything else.

It's only been two days and they're on the way to John's bunker to meet with Joseph, since John's ranch had been taken by the resistance and Joseph's compound had been abandoned by the time the reaping started. Jacob and Staci have barely set foot in the bunker when the bombs drop. The Peggies are quiet. Staci is quiet. John and Rook, who stand next to each other for some reason Staci doesn't want to know, are quiet. "I was right", Joseph says into the silence, "I was right".

During the following days Staci learns q lot if things. That Rook took so long to take Faith down and get to him was John's fault, for example, because he wouldn't stop messing with Rook, in ways Staci didn't want any further explanation.

Staci also learned from Rook that it wasn't some God who decided to punish humanity, but that WW3 just happened, and Staci wasn't sure which was worse. Either way, he punched Joseph right in the face during one of their "family dinners", for making all of them suffer so much. Jacob wasn't pleased but Staci didn't care at this moment.

The last thing that Staci learned was that all of the Seeds bunkers were connected and that radio transmission was still possible. That meant two things: he could contact his still lost colleagues he learned fled to a bunker called "Wolf's Den" and that a sizable number of people survived the bombing. For the first time in his life he was happy preppers existed.

And after everything, Jacob was alive, he was alive and his friends were alive. That was all that counted in this moment. Staci didn't now what the future would look like, he just was happy that he could share it with Jacob.

PS: If anyone wants to use this plot go for it, I'd be honored (Just tell me before because I'd read the heck out of that). I just love the idea of Jacob and Staci having a relationship that doesn't involve torture or brainwashing or conditioning. Both my babies deserve better than what they got.

[lady-snavely]

Sands of Time: Part Two

Year in Review

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem!OC

Warnings: mentions of death, swearing, mutual pining, all the fluff

A/N: reblogs are super appreciated

Time ticked by at an agonizing pace for Jade after that. The world changed, in some ways for the better, in others for the worse. She traveled because she had to. Faerie rule dictated she had to. She kept her heritage a secret because she had to.

After they became civil again, Nyra tried setting Jade up with a number of different Fae men. Jade, though she didn't have an interest in seeing anyone, humored her sister and at the very least would meet the men Nyra raved about. But her heart still yearned for Tetsuro.

Jade's latest story was that she was a part time college student, working full time at the local library. She still loved reading even after all this time. She'd only been working for a handful of weeks before the first term started. Online courses allowed her to easily complete classes for a degree she didn't need. It was more to pass time anyway. Jade insisted on taking the closing shifts, they weren't exactly the greatest shifts as they were typically slower, but she didn't mind.

The start of term brought on an increase in activity. Students of all walks came in to study, both on their own and in groups. It was on one slower day, in the middle of the week that a rather large group had come in, ten in total. They were all first years, not that it bothered Jade any, she was considered a first year in the eyes of the university as well.

They were a curious bunch with a number of subgroups making up the larger group. It was obvious rather quickly that some of the members had known each other for a long time, while others had only recently been acquainted. Regardless of the differing dynamics they all got along well and, outside of general questions, stayed out of Jade's hair.

They quickly became regulars over the term. They met three times a week, sometimes it was just two or three of them, but usually there were at least five of them who came. It was rare that all ten showed up on the same night.

By the time midterms rolled around she'd learned all of their names and how they knew each other. She caught on to some of their quirks as well. Like how Oikawa Tohru would whine to his boyfriend until he got his way which sounds annoying, and usually was, but Iwaizumi Hajime adored his boyfriend to no end even if he could be a bit harsh at times. Sawamura Daichi could be scary when he got mad but those moods were few and far between.

Kozume Kenma, a quiet boy who often had his phone or some handheld video game in his hand, had warned Jade to not mention Yaku Morisuke's height. Not that she would've without the warning seeing as he was just as tall as her when she was in Fae form.

Then there was Bokuto Kotaro, possibly one of the most energetic Humans Jade had ever come across. It wasn't uncommon for Jade to hear his voice bursting with energy when he came into the library. Akaashi Keiji had a preternatural ability to calm him however and after a couple of weeks Jade quit rushing towards the noise entirely.

The quietest of the bunch was Shimizu Kiyoko, she was also the only female in the group. She and Sugawara Koshi were exceedingly observant for Humans. Lastly, there was Kuroo Tetsuro. He didn't boast about it, but he was incredibly smart and had a knack for reading people.

Jade didn't care how it came to be that they had all come together. All she knew was that somehow, she and Kuroo were brought together again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was between her first and second term that Jade had to go home to her people. Her father was finally receiving a place on the Faery Council. It was something he'd been striving for for some time now. She stood with her siblings and mother, proud in the navy blue and sea foam green that were her family's colors. Around her were the families of other Council members, painting the floor in a splattering of colors.

The ceremony itself was routine and quick, Jade's father was given his pendant, he swore to uphold the rules of the Fae and drank from the ceremonial chalice with his fellow Council members.

Afterwards there was a banquet as well as music and dancing. Jade had humored her brother, the only son and youngest of the four siblings, and danced with him for a while before finally returning to her chair with a sheen of sweat on her brow and her heart racing in her chest. The table was vacant, not that it bothered her any, as she settled into her seat.

As much as the Human world intrigued Jade even after all of this time, it was freeing being home and surrounded by her own people again. Here where she didn't have to maintain her Humanoid form; here where she could be her true self. Even still her mind wandered to the Human boy who was probably hard at work on his summer assignments, if they weren't already completed that is.

With her mind elsewhere Jade didn't initially see her sister when she sat beside her until she cleared her throat. "Fawna, I apologize." Jade shook her head quickly to hide her embarrassment. Normally she would've seen her sister coming.

"Not necessary," Fawna grinned. "It must have been nice, whatever it was you were thinking of. You had a pleasant looking smile on your face. What were you thinking about? Or should I say: who?"

Jade gave Fawna a soft smile that was filled with guilt. "You caught me."

Fawna returned Jade's smile with one of her own. She was about a century older than Jade and did her best to understand the fixation with the Human boy. Fawna had been there to console Jade when Nyra had berated her for choosing to marry outside of their people so many years ago. "He's come into your life again, hasn't he?" The blush that colored Jade's cheeks was enough of an answer though Jade herself said nothing. Fawna held her hands out, palms up, and nodded her understanding. "What's he like this time?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jade's brother kept her company during her week-long stay. He did his best to keep her busy enough that she didn't have time to let her thoughts wonder but that didn't stop it from happening now and again. Sitting up late with her one night he was finally pulling together enough courage to say something when she spoke first.

"You probably think I'm weird too, don't you, Lark?" She asked as she turned her glass in her hands absentmindedly. "For having feelings for someone who is only here for what amounts to seconds of a Fae's life."

"Mother says you've always been intrigued by Humans." Lark shrugged after a moment. "I can't pretend to know what it is that draws you to them or what it is that keeps bringing the two of you together. Whatever it is, I know it's real, what you feel for him. I see it in the way your eyes shine when you talk about him; the way you always blush at the mention of him. You seem whole when he's around you again. But, no, I don't think you're weird, Jade."

Jade smiled across the table at her brother but said nothing. She stared at the glass in her hand, thinking. She and Lark, as the two youngest siblings, had always been the other's confidant. They told each other everything, so when she decided to integrate herself further into the Human's ways of living it had hurt both of them. She wasn't able to get away as often as she'd like since she had to keep up the life she created for herself. Lark had only visited her once since she started working at the library in the city and this was the first time she'd been home in years.

"You should come back with me," she said suddenly.

Lark gave her a dumbfounded look. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to see the city, Lark," Jade sighed, a content smile lighting her features. "Humans outdo themselves and they don't even realize it. Please, even if it's just a day or two."

He pondered the idea for a few silent moments. He had gotten lost twice the one time he'd visited her before, having gotten off at the wrong bus stop when he was looking for her apartment and then taking the wrong bus entirely when he was leaving. Despite those instances he'd enjoyed what he'd seen of the city even if it was just in panicked passing. Lark finally nodded. "After things settle down here," he decided.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kuroo Tetsuro was a wanderer when he needed a break from his studies. Jade would often see him looping the aisles of books, stopping on occasion to look at something that had caught his attention before he continued. She did her best to stay out of his way when he was doing this but there were times when the restocking had other plans and she would have to weasel past him with her cart.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, though it wouldn't surprise him if Kenma or even Sugawara were already aware, but sometimes he ventured into an aisle for no reason other than that Jade was already in it. More than once he'd heard her humming a tune he recalled his mother used to sing him when he was younger.

The first time he'd heard it, the familiarity of it alone had drawn him into the aisle. Jade had smiled politely when she spotted him coming towards her. "Looking for something?" She wondered.

"Just taking a break, Miss Meadows," he replied with a shake of his head.

To his delight, Jade had laughed, shaking her own head as she slid a book into place on the shelf in front of her before she corrected him. "It's Jade. How was your vacation?"

"Relaxing." Kuroo glanced at the books on her cart and picked one up just to keep his hands busy. "I imagine it was pretty nice not having the study group here."

Jade's nose scrunched in a grimace as she shook her head. "I like having you guys around," she defended. "It gives me something to look forward to. But I actually took a week off to go home and see my family," she explained. "Nothing fancy but it was nice to see everyone again."

"Been a while had it?"

Jade had remained quiet for a moment as she pushed her cart a few paces to continue her work before she answered. "Yeah, a few years. It's my own fault," she added with a shrug when Kuroo's eyes widened in shock. "I like the city life and they don't."

Kuroo leaned against the shelving behind him with a small sigh. "That's too bad," he decided to say.

"Everyone has their preferences." Jade shrugged again. It was something she did a lot when talking about her family. "Well, don't let me be too much of a distraction. You're here for a reason, remember?"

"Yes ma'am." Kuroo grinned when she smacked his arm with a book. He was only a few steps away when he stopped. "Actually, that tune you were humming not too long ago, what was it exactly?"

"Just something my mom used to sing us when we were little," Jade answered without turning from the shelves in front of her.

Though she hadn't seen it, Kuroo had nodded before finally retreating back to his friends.

"Took you long enough," Yaku teased when Kuroo sat beside him. "Where'd you go this time?"

"Around," Kuroo answered simply. His mind was elsewhere, the tune from his childhood replaying over and over in his head. Sometimes it was his mother's soft singing that graced his memory and others it was Jade's quiet humming.

Iwaizumi was the first to say something when he heard Kuroo humming the tune. His ears perked at the familiar piece of music before his mind played catch up and his head snapped up suddenly. "What is it?" Oikawa wondered with a frown.

Ignoring his boyfriend Iwaizumi stared hard at Kuroo. "Why are you humming that lullaby, Kuroo?"

"Hmm? What?" Kuroo turned his gaze up from the book he was taking notes from.

"The lullaby mother's sing to their kids to get them to fall asleep. Why are you suddenly humming it?"

Kuroo frowned then. "I didn't realize I was."

"I see I wasn't the only one who noticed then," Sugawara noted with a faint smile. "It is kind of odd though Kuroo."

"Did going home over break remind you of it?" Yaku pressed.

"No, I heard Jade humming it when I was walking around."

The group shared looks of confusion. It was Oikawa who spoke first, his voice a hushed whisper that only they could hear. "Why on Earth would she know that song?"

M.List | Next

[oprashaant]

The tea-seller's little boy

On a cold Friday evening, in the month of December, Sudhakar had just opened his small tea-shop. He was running his shop in a small corner on the ever busy East street area from 3 in the afternoon till late evenings. In the morning he would go door to door to deliver milk and cottage cheese.

He was late that day, late by atleast 3 hours. The reason for this was his 6 years old son Raghu. He had been crying inconsolably since last night. The stray puppy that he had brought home just a week ago, had come under the wheels of a car and died. That had shattered him and broke his little heart.

They lived in a one room shanty in a crowded slum but Raghu hardly had any friends. A birth defect had caused him to limp while walking and his friends would tease him everytime they saw him walk because of his funny stance. That would hurt him a lot.

With only a half broken bat and a plastic ball to call a toy Raghu would often play alone. When he was not playing he would stay indoors lost in his thoughts. His mother Savitri would often wonder what a kid so small would deeply think about?

So when that stray puppy followed him home Raghu thought he had found his best friend. The pup too had taken a great liking in him. They called him Sonu. He was all white with scattered black spots all over.

Sonu and Raghu were a bundle of joy together. A true treat for the eyes of his parents. It was like they were made for each other. The little pup wouldn't move from the door when Raghu was out at school. And once back home Sonu would be all over him, licking him all over his face. Sonu's low gruntling noises and Raghu's laughter had filled their home with pure happiness. They had never seen Raghu so happy and that is why Sudhakar and his pregnant wife Savitri too had become very fond of him.

"Raghu we will bring you a new one," Savitri had already told him this a hundred times since morning but he just wouldn't listen.

"Aai, is God angry with me?" he asked between sobs. He was lying on a torn carpet on the uneven floor with his head resting on his mother's lap.

"Why would God ever be angry with such a sweet boy"?

"First he made me limp and now he's taken away Sonu from me".

Sudhakar was choking inside. Savitri too was fighting her tears. Losing Sonu was a huge loss.

"Raghu if you come with me to our shop today, I'll get you 2 new puppies before Sunday".

"2 puppies? Really Baba"? Raghu asked wiping his tears.

"That's a promise".

Raghu jumped with joy.

"I don't think it's a good idea Sudhakar," Savitri said, " you are running late today. Raghu hasn't slept at all. He also has not eaten anything. He will bother you".

"Savitri I just want to give him some change".

"Aai please let me go with baba. I won't trouble him. Give me a glass of milk and 2 biscuits and I will be ready in 5 minutes".

"That's like my boy," Sudhakar said and picked him up in his arms.

Raghu was immediately filled with energy even before he had his milk. Savitri was happily smiling to herself. She knew the reason behind this sudden burst of energy.

"I will also give you your favourite cream roll and an ice-cream when we return", Sudhakar said as he prepared him for a bath.

Sudhakar used to sell tea, coffee, cream rolls, biscuits and cigarettes at his shop. Cold weather always meant good business. That is why he knew the 3 hours that he had lost today would have cost him 500 rupees atleast. It was too much for someone who was always running on a tight budget. His monthly income was almost equaling his expenses which included the room rent, school fees, daily expenses and Savitri's medical bills. He also had to send some money to his old parents back in the village every month. Now that his family was growing he was also thinking about renting a bigger space to stay.

Savitri, even though pregnant, was still slogging as a house maid to help him make ends meet. But he had decided now .He won't allow her to work anymore, no matter what. The lady she worked for made her toil hard even after knowing her condition. She almost slipped once while mopping wet floor.

"I would take up some odd labor jobs after dropping Raghu to school for some extra income," he said to himself as he quickly put the milk vessel, the paper cups and other items in the rented rickshaw. He picked up Raghu in his arms and left for work.

"Take care Savitri, we'll be back by 10," he told her before leaving.

By the time he reached his shop it was already 6.30. He briskly unlocked the door, removed a stool and asked Raghu to sit on it, just outside his shop. Raghu was wearing a half sleeves shirt, an old ill-fitting sweater which Savitri had purchased for Rs 200 from the lady she worked for, shorts and a pair of slippers.

"Late today"? A cobbler, Gopi, who worked on the pavement just next to his shop asked.

Sudhakar had a quick glance at Raghu who was carefully removing the tea cups from the box. He went a little closer to Gopi and told him about the pup. He also requested him to not bring it up in front of Raghu as that would hurt him again.

"Poor boy, no wonder he's looking so sad".

Raghu's eyes were still red from all the crying.

"Hello Raghu," Gopi greeted him animatedly.

"Hello Uncle".

"His face is too stressed for a 6 year old boy, " Gopi said in a concerning tone. "Children his age should laugh all the time and roam worry free. You should do something about this Sudhakar".

"I have promised him 2 puppies before Sunday. That will change things for him".

"I hope he gets all the happiness in the world," Gopi said as he looked at him affectionately. Raghu had by now removed all the cups and placed it on the table.

"You are a very good boy Raghu, you are helping your father".

Raghu could only manage a half smile in reply. He was deeply thinking about something.

Sudhakar had by now set up his shop and was waiting for his first customer impatiently.

"1 coffee," one of his regular customer came at the stall and asked.

"Sure Sir", he replied as he closed his eyes and looked towards the Gods in appreciation for his first customer.

"Why are you late today, I came down twice looking for you".

Sudhakar's tea shop was near a big business complex. Almost everyone from that building came to his shop for their tea and snacks.

"Here's your coffee Sir".

"Thanks".

"Cigarette"?

"Sorry, no cigarette today. My son is here with me," he said pointing towards Raghu.

"Oh.. ok. No problem. You are a great father".

"Thank you Sir".

"I hope you are sending him to a good school".

"Yes Sir, he goes to an English medium school. He is going to study and become a big man one day and not sell tea like me," he replied cheerfully. There was immense hope in his eyes for Raghu and he was proudly smiling all to himself as if he was actually seeing him becoming a big man in the future.

Soon a lot of customers started pouring in and Sudhakar got busy. Raghu was dozing on and off. One moment he would fall asleep and the next he would wake up with a jolt. Sudhakar was wondering if he did the right thing by bringing him to the shop.

Around 9 p.m all the milk was over. So were the other items. Sudhakar was happy that he had made good money. But Raghu was looking sad again.

"What happened Raghu, are you sleepy"?

It seemed he was lost somewhere and he didn't hear it.

"Raghu I am asking you. What happened?" he bent down and asked while playing with his hair.

"Baba, I am missing Sonu". Tears welled up in his little eyes and came running down his cheeks.

Sudhakar was shattered. He himself was close to tears. How can a small innocent boy like him carry such a heavy heart? He couldn't take it anymore. He picked him up in his arms and held him tightly.

But the next moment he quickly gathered himself and put him back on the stool.

"I think you have forgotten about the two puppies that I am going to gift you tomorrow," he said trying to cheer him up.

"But I only want Sonu", he replied with a breaking voice.

"They will be just like Sonu and you can play with them as much as you want. In fact we all will play together."

Sudhakar was sure once he brings those pups home Raghu will be happy again.

"Now sit here and have this cream roll I saved for you. I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere. I am going to the next building to get some water. We clean it up and we'll be on our way back home. Of course with that ice-cream I promised".

"Okay Baba," he replied.

His eyes followed Sudhakar while he crossed the road in the heavy evening traffic and went to the other side. Sudhakar waved at him before disappearing in the basement of the building.

Suddenly there was a sparkle in Raghu's eyes.

"Sonu," he jumped in excitement.

He spotted Sonu right in the middle of the road wagging its tail excitedly at him.

"Sonu," he screamed again.

"What's the matter boy?" Gopi asked.

"Look Uncle, my Sonu has come back".

Raghu was ecstatic and getting impatient.

"Who's Sonu"?

"My pup, my best friend".

"Where is he, I can't see him"?

"There he is in the middle of the road".

Gopi got up to get a better view.

"But I still can't see him".

Raghu saw a speeding SUV at some distance. He panicked. He didn't want to lose him again. He limped as fast as he could to get Sonu to safety.

Gopi watched in horror as the driver of the SUV tried hard to avoid hitting Raghu. But it was too late.

"Baba," he screamed.

A young woman who had come for her evening stroll screamed and fainted at the spot.

Gopi too collapsed on the road.

Even as the horrified crowd tried lifting the wheels of the SUV, Raghu quickly got up , picked up Sonu in his arms and walked off in the direction of a bright ray of light.

Sonu was happily licking his face, while Raghu laughed and kissed him back.

"Look Sonu, I am not limping anymore," he said animatedly.

[96thdayofrage]

Close your eyes, and it could be the president of the United States talking.

Sipping tea with Mark Okoth Obama Ndesandjo in a Ming-dynasty temple is a surreal experience. Fleetingly, it conjures up images of what it'd be like to meet his half-brother - Barack Obama - for this African-American émigré to China bears a striking resemblance to his Nobel Peace Prize-winning sibling. And despite having grown up on opposite sides of the world - Barack with his mother in Hawaii and Mark with their Kenyan father in Nairobi - the half-brothers share mannerisms, including a politician's gift for putting people at ease.

We had arranged to meet in Shenzhen's Baoan district. Ndesandjo's assistant, George, escorted me through a leafy park on a golf buggy to a secluded building. The imposing, tall wooden doors opened from the inside and we were guided through a series of private, tranquil courtyards until we reached the Yuan Baoyuan teahouse, where Ndesandjo emerged from the main hall.

In the flesh, he is a force. Dressed head to toe in black, with an Indonesian bandana around his forehead, Ndesandjo is tall and personable, and speaks with a warm American accent. He's much more likeable than his self-deprecating new autobiography, Cultures: My Odyssey of Self-discovery, suggests.

THE LIVES OF MARK and Barack couldn't have unfolded more differently. While Barack's childhood was a happy Honolulu existence, Mark spent his formative years in a newly independent Kenya, living under the reign of terror of an alcoholic and abusive father, until his white, American mother finally found the courage to flee.

Despite his Kenyan upbringing, Ndesandjo never felt accepted by black Africa; but as the son of a Luo tribesman, he also felt incongruous in the expatriate community to which his mother belonged.

With his first autobiography, which was released last month, Mark has emerged from relative anonymity to tell his story and set the record straight about the president's "mysterious Kenyan roots".

"I wanted to tell my story myself without other people telling it for me," he says.

Ndesandjo, 48, lives in Futian, Shenzhen, with his wife, Liu Xuehua, a Henan province native and his partner of a decade. The pair met in a tea shop when Ndesandjo was an impoverished English teacher. He had emigrated to China in 2003 from Orlando, Florida. Having lost a well-paid job in the telecommunications industry in the post-9/11 economic slump, he wrote to the director of a mainland teaching project he'd read about in a magazine, asking for a job.

"He said, 'You're obviously too qualified.' But I really wanted to explore China."

Ndesandjo expected to stay for three months. Twelve years later, he is fluent in Putonghua, proficient in calligraphy and has no plans to leave the country. Long-standing rumours tell of him running a barbecue restaurant in Shenzhen, but he laughs them off.

"I'm a vegetarian," he says.

What he does run is a foundation that helps children in need, while also teaching piano to orphans, raising awareness of domestic violence and heading up two consulting companies that assist American investors entering the Chinese and Kenyan markets, and those looking to go in the other direction, one registered on the mainland, the other in Hong Kong.

THE FIRST TIME NDESANDJO met Obama was in 1988. It was a sunny weekend in Nairobi, and Ndesandjo was on his bed reading Fawn M. Brodie's The Devil Drives, about the explorer Richard Burton.

"My mother came to the doorway and was trembling. She said, 'Your brother from America is here. In the living room. He wants to meet you.'"

In Obama's 1995 autobiography, Dreams from My Father, he claims Ndesandjo's mother, Ruth Baker, sent a car to pick him up and that the family had arranged lunch.

"It was never like that," Ndesandjo says, shaking his head. "He and my half-sister, Auma, walked in that afternoon out of the blue. It was a year after my younger brother, Bobby [David Opiyo], had died in a motorcycle accident. I thought, 'What are they doing here?'"

Obama, Ndesandjo remembers, sat on the couch in very simple clothes, appearing as a regular Kenyan, with gangly legs and arms, and huge hands.

"My stepfather [Simon Ndesandjo] was very impressed by him," he says.

The family leafed through photo albums but the meeting was stilted, and the two half-brothers agreed to meet again a few days later.

"He looked so similar to me, we both loved America and were going to Ivy League schools," he says.

Having left Kenya aged 17, armed with a scholarship, Ndesandjo had just completed a degree in maths and physics at Brown University, in Rhode Island. He was on a break in Nairobi before returning to the US, to enrol at Stanford University.

"Until then, I'd assumed I was the cleverest in the family," he says.

But the long-lost siblings failed to connect.

"Barack felt I was too Western, and I thought he was trying too hard to be African," Ndesandjo remembers. "He wanted to know a lot about my father [who had passed away in 1982], and he was very direct with his questions. I felt like he was opening up old wounds. A lot like a lawyer, he was trying to research our emotional history.

"He kept asking, 'Well, what do you think of him?' I had shut all these things out, but he was relentless. It was a shock to him when I said, 'Our father was a drunk and he beat women.' Barack flinched. He wasn't aware of that.

"I think that has coloured our relationship to this day. In fact, I know it has."

Barack Obama Snr had skin as dark as ebony, teeth that shone like pearls and, in his younger years - like his Hawaiian son - had the hallmarks of brilliance. Born in 1936 in the sun-basked Nyanza province of western Kenya, Obama Snr attended the prestigious Maseno School, where his teachers described him as an "exceptionally bright student".

However, Obama Snr didn't graduate from high school, the record shows, because of a "behaviour infraction". Consequently, in 1959, his request for a grant to study abroad was rejected. Had it not been for Elizabeth Mooney Kirk - a forty-something American who Obama Snr allegedly seduced - agreeing to bankroll him, neither Barack Obama nor Ndesandjo would be here today.

It was the Swinging Sixties in Boston when Obama Snr met Baker at a party. She was a Jewish girl from Massachusetts, born to first-generation Russian and Lithuanian immigrants, he was a Harvard graduate who was "a touchy, sarcastic but incredibly charming intellectual", according to Ndesandjo.

In August 1964, after two months of dating, Obama Snr proposed. Smitten and seeking adventure, Baker relocated to Nairobi, where her new partner should have been on a fast-track government career - prospects that were squandered in bars.

"At this point," Ndesandjo says, "my mother didn't know about Barack and his mother, Ann Dunham," who had married the African student in 1961 and divorced him three years later. Obama Snr saved that surprise for when he and Baker were in Kenya, where a picture of Barack II eventually sat on the mantelpiece of the couple's first home.

Life in the Obama household was hell. Baker says in her memoir that, from the start, Obama Snr "was drinking heavily, staying out to all hours and hitting me". Within a year, she had fled back to the US.

One night, after Obama Snr had persuaded her to return, he came home drunk and held a knife to his wife's throat. Shortly after, Baker had her seven-year marriage annulled. Ndesandjo was seven years old. Even today, thousands of miles away in Shenzhen, when Ndesandjo remembers his father's violence, tears slide down his cheeks.

Ndesandjo can't remember being told about his father's death.

"Perhaps I blocked it out," he says. "When Barack came to Kenya, I felt he admired our father because Obama Snr had been proud to be a black African; a person who wouldn't let anyone get in the way of Kenyan independence and the flow of free ideas. But I wanted to be as far away from him as possible."

After that first meeting between the half-brothers, Ndesandjo returned to the US, where he studied for a master's degree in physics at Stanford University, before preparing to take a PhD. Then, in a moment of weakness, he cheated. In his autobiography he describes the giddy moment he slipped into his professor's office to read the exam paper: "I had the keys to the kingdom."

He was caught and then suspended by the department chair, Steven Chu, who, in a twist of fate, would later work for the Barack Obama administration as secretary of energy. Ndesandjo describes feeling suicidal as he left Stanford mired in disgrace.

Two decades in the corporate world followed. During this period, Ndesandjo dropped the Obama name and never returned to Africa; didn't speak to his half-siblings - Malik and Auma - by his father's first wife, Kezia; and didn't return to see his mother. He did, however, dip in and out of contact with Barack.

Once, the pair went for lunch in San Francisco at Tommy's Joynt, a haunt for hippies and left-wing progressives. Obama again had questions about Kenya.

"I felt he was clarifying facts from years before."

A few months later, aged 33, Obama published Dreams from My Father - an autobiography he'd never prepared his family for. Ndesandjo uses Cultures to right the many wrongs he sees in his half-brother's opus.

"I think he took artistic licence with the book. He created composites of characters, and he didn't like my mother. There was also a playing up of our wealth in Kenya. We could never have afforded to send a car for him."

In 2004, the year after Ndesandjo had moved to Shenzhen, a friend drove him to the American Chamber of Commerce in Guangzhou, to watch the new Illinois state senator, Barack Obama, give the keynote address at the Democratic National Convention in Boston, which would make the politician an overnight star. As Ndesandjo and a gaggle of other Americans watched the senator speak live, before a rapturous audience waving Obama placards, Barack told the world, "We are our brother's keeper."

"At that point, no one knew of my relation to him, except the friend who had driven me over," Ndesandjo recalls. "But word gets around, and someone asked, 'Are you his brother?' I said, 'Yes'. Suddenly, I felt very proud of him."

A few days later, a friend called up. "It's great that he got that speech," the friend said. "But he'll never have a chance at being president."

Ndesandjo doesn't remember where he was when Obama made history by announcing his candidacy for president, in 2007. But he quickly renewed contact, sending his half-brother e-mails with quotes from Sun Tzu's The Art of War as the campaign thundered forward.

"Feint to the east and attack the west," he e-mailed when his challenger for the Democratic Party presidential nomination, Hillary Clinton, focused on capturing big states, "Revive in a new guise," when Obama decided to directly attack Clinton in Ohio and Texas.

Barack's campaign started to heal the Obama clan, which Ndesandjo likens to "herding cats, all moving in their own direction". Ndesandjo flew to the US to meet a half-brother, Joseph, from his mother's second marriage, to support Barack at his 2008 Democratic Party presidential debate against Clinton in Austin, Texas.

When Barack was elected, the entire Obama family was flown out to the White House for the inauguration; not an eyelid was batted when Malik came attired in a Muslim fez. As they toured the Oval Office, Barack promised he would one day meet Ndesandjo's wife in China.

"But he declined an invitation to our Shenzhen home for dinner," Ndesandjo remembers, "Barack said, 'They won't let me.'"

They, of course, would have been the White House security department. How much influence did Washington have on his own movements at that point?

"I've never gotten the impression they've tried to control what I do," says Ndesandjo. But his paranoia had compelled him to flag certain "failures" that he felt the Republicans might have been able to use as weapons in the fight for the presidency. First, his suspension from Stanford, and second, a trail of bad debt he had left in the US. Obama replied with a brief e-mail: "Mark, do not worry - your life is your own and will not affect my election."

In 2008, Ndesandjo and Liu married in a low-key ceremony. Their union is one of harmonious compromise; they speak Putonghua during the week, English on the weekends and eat separate meals - Ndesandjo is not partial to "squidgy" Chinese cuisine. He says their "otherness" is what fascinates both parties, and cites her as his rock.

It was Liu who, in 2009, encouraged Ndesandjo to pursue a lifelong ambition he knew would have long-standing familial repercussions. That year, he published Nairobi to Shenzhen, a fictionalised account of his past, but one accurate enough for the world's press to realise Ndesandjo had outed Obama Snr - the man Barack had lauded as an example of the American dream in that famous 2004 keynote speech - as a wife beater and a drunk.

The opening scene of Cultures is of Ndesandjo's long-promised meeting with Obama in Beijing, shortly after the novel was published. The half-brothers talk for five minutes and Ndesandjo describes the president as smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke and being emotionally closed. Later that day, Obama told a CNN journalist: "I don't know [Ndesandjo] very well. I met him for the first time only two years ago."

Those words stung.

"I sometimes feel we - the Obama family - have been used. Since being elected, Barack has been trying to distance himself from his relations in Kenya, and he's overly sensitive to the African dimension of his past. That's not right."

The two haven't seen each other since, but remain in e-mail contact.

"A few months ago, I said, 'Barack, you have to try and reach out more. One word to the family in Kenya - a happy birthday to Granny Sarah, who is 93 - would mean the world.' He got quite upset about that."

Still, Ndesandjo recognises the tremendous opportunities his half-brother's fame has afforded him, and is convinced Obama has been a "great president who is fundamentally trying to make good in the world".

The Obama family, Ndesandjo says, spanning Islam, Judaism, Kenya, the US, China, Indonesia - on Barack's side - and Mexico - through Joseph's wife, Dora - is a tale of what it is to be a modern, multicultural American. As his maternal Grandma Ida says in Cultures: "One day, Mark, we will all be brown."

Ndesandjo says he has made peace with Obama Snr, Barack's achievements finally having made him proud of the family name. In 2011, after 20 years away, he returned to Kogela, the family village in Kenya.

"It's funny," he says. "In Dreams, Barack says sons often spend their lives trying to achieve their father's dreams or correct their errors. That polarity defines my relationship with Barack. I've been trying to correct the issues I experienced with my father my whole life. Barack, on the other hand, has been achieving my father's goals and dreams."

This article appeared in the South China Morning Post print edition as: The other Obama

[hiironofusha]

I'm a little confused with your headcanons regarding your muse. You say he's Prompto's brother, but he's also the prince of Niflheim, but he's Verstael's son, not Aldercapt... but he has Aldercapts last name... but he's actually Loqi Tummelt? But he can summon the Armiger, but if he doesn't know about his history then does he know he was blessed by the Crystal? Wouldn't that be a telling sign? It feels very confusing, I'm just asking for clarification. :)

Hey~! I’m sorry I make my muses so complicated usdkctyasdhvtfdrk. I need to stop that OTL Technically this prince is still in development too. I mean I barely started RPing as him because one of my muses took over haha. I also made this blog I think around the middle of last month or late last month? But anyway, allow me to try to explain the best way I can. 

Warning though: This post is going to get long, because I have no idea how to shorten things sometimes

Also once again for those that may be reading this, all of this is completely headcanon/AU-based, because “canonically” we literally know nothing about the supposed Prince of Niflheim and he never made it to the final project. Like I said before in my previous post in regards to the whole “Loqi situation”, if Loqis out there feel uncomfortable about this or feel like our muses may not be able to interact due to complications, we don’t have to 100% go with my headcanon that Hamlet is the “real” Loqi. And hell “Loqi” and “Tummelt” can probably be common names in Niflheim lol. They could coincidentally both be named “Loqi Tummelt” cuz it could possibly be a common name in Niflheim haha. You can also unfollow me if you feel like your muse really wouldn’t be able to interact with mine due to the complications haha.

Another warning: Things might get dark and messed up and become kind of disturbing, and there will be mentions of blood.

This Loqi here, AKA this muse, is the real Loqi. He was born before the Loqi we know in the game. He’s not the same Loqi we know in the game. This Loqi was pretty much adopted by Iedolas and he gave him the name “Hamlet Aldercapt”. Iedolas was aware that Verstael was going to have a son and he and his wife had already given him a name: Loqi. Loqi RPers that follow me can think whatever they want and I will respect their portrayal and headcanons, but for me when I started working on this muse I tended to headcanon the Loqi we see in the game is either actually one of Verstael’s failed experiments that didn’t get turned into an MT or a daemon, or Verstael adopted him and knowing his wife (Emilia) wanted to name their to-be-born son Loqi, he named him Loqi Tummelt. He was going to give him his lastname, but despite becoming a literal crazy mad scientist and probably did other horrible things, he did regret abandoning Emilia and their unborn son (at the time) behind, so he wanted something to remember his wife, I guess? Haha. And so the Loqi Tummelt we see in the game, Verstael gave him the name Loqi Tummelt so he wouldn’t forget his wife, Emilia Tummelt. Also why did Verstael abandon his wife and his at the time unborn son? I had said in one of my other previous headcanons that she was drugged to become a daemon later by Verstael, but then I had a thought to change it since it’s a canon fact that Verstael actually use to be a man that wanted peace for the world of something. Anyway, there was a contagious naga daemon they ran into that carried a disease and it was about to attack Verstael. When that naga daemon was about to attack him, Emilia pretty much took the hit and was bitten by that daemon. Verstael knew that when she had been bitten by that daemon that carried a contagious daemonic disease, she would eventually turn into a daemon too. Emilia was also 6 months pregnant with Hamlet AKA this Loqi. I’m gonna call him Hamlet from now on to lessen the confusion of having two Loqis haha.

When Emilia was 8 ½ months pregnant with Hamlet, Verstael abandoned her in that ice cave(?) at that waterfall place where you can fight that Midgarsormr monster. He was there in hopes he would be able to seek Ramuh’s aid so he could be guided to the correct path for peace or something like that, because Verstael was actually a man that wanted peace until things happened (and either Iedolas or Ardyn got to his head and now Verstael is a literal mad scientist). He also wanted to seek aid to cure his wife from the daemonic disease she got from getting bitten by a contagious naga daemon (Luna wasn’t born at the time and there was no oracle, and Ardyn had been stripped of his healing abilities). He saw Emilia had already become literally blinded from the disease that took over her. Half of her face had also become affected, turning slightly black/gray from the disease (oh shit, sounds like the starscourge disease). This is where Verstael leaves her and unborn Hamlet behind, because he knew she was going to become a daemon and he was also afraid of the possibility that she would give birth to a literal daemonic child, because you know, if you’ve become contagious and you’re pregnant, the disease can actually spread to your unborn child too.

A month later, Hamlet is born in the cave that Verstael abandoned him and Emilia in. After she gave birth, of course she would be weak and frail, and so because she had become frail from giving birth, she then became a naga daemon.

Coincidentally, Ardyn was passing by this cave because he wanted to speak with Ramuh for whatever reason, despite knowing Ramuh may not want to talk to him because the Gods/Astrals probably do not like him since he literally became impure from healing others from the scourge in the past long long ago, he hears the sound of a baby crying and finds it. He was aware Verstael was going to have a son, and he did meet Emilia before. Ardyn actually never planned on doing anything to Emilia because he saw no point in it, I’d just like to point that out, and so he literally never did anything bad to her (yay). They’d talk sometimes as acquaintances, but not as much. He was also aware that Emilia was pretty much affected by the scourge, thanks to the contagious naga daemon that bit her (Emilia told him that). So while seeing Emilia as an unconcious naga daemon, and seeing a newborn boy beside her, Ardyn figured out that the newborn boy there is Emilia and and Verstael’s son. Now here comes the blood mention. When Ardyn found “Hamlet”, he literally saw in blood the name “Loqi T” on the baby. Emilia wrote that on her baby with her own blood in hopes someone would find this child she named when Emilia became no more. I won’t dive into how she wrote it with her own blood because even for me the thought of it is EXTREMELY disturbing, but hey, it’s for the sake of story development, but I’m still not gonna dive into how exactly she wrote “Loqi T” on her baby in her own blood. She didn’t use a knife or any sort of sharp object, I’ll tell you guys that though. BUT ANYWAY… Ardyn figured the “T” was suppose to spell “Tummelt”, but Emilia had already fallen unconcious as she tried to finish writing “Tummelt”. So Ardyn figured the baby was suppose to be named “Loqi Tummelt”. Emilia’s lastname is Tummelt, and Verstael’s is Besithia.

Here’s where this Loqi becomes “Hamlet Aldercapt”:

Ardyn took the newborn kiddo back to Niflheim and he actually did take care of the newborn kiddo a bit with nursing milk formula he bought at a store while he was still in Lucis lol. When he returned to Niflheim, he presented the newborn kiddo to Verstael, informing him in his manipulative tone of voice that Emilia had given birth to the kiddo and he shouldn’t have left them behind. Verstael examines the kiddo, seeing he is a human boy and not a daemon (yay). However, he thinks that considering his wife was infected, his son may be even part-daemon, because of the daemonic disease his wife had been infected with. Unfortunately he does have a little bit of daemon blood in him because of that, but no one knows if it’s infected or not. No one literally bothered to check. Even Ardyn, but Ardyn gets a feeling that it might be, but who knows? I wanna leave it up toothers and even myself to make things fun haha. Ardyn also informs that Emilia turned into a naga daemon and is most likely no more of who she was before when she was a human. She probably won’t remember when she was a human, Ardyn assumed, and he tells Verstael he should “reunite” with his wife for the better, but then Verstael is like “Nope. If she can’t remember me or our son, I can’t go. I’m totally not scared boo hoo,” and starts getting all edgy on Ardyn hahahaha. Ardyn pretty much is like “Okay, I’ll just give him to Iedolas. Bye loser.” So Ardyn goes to Iedolas and informs him about the whole situation where he found Hamlet, his mom turned into a daemon, his dad apparently doesn’t want him because he’s afraid of his son, yadi yadi yada. And then Ardyn thinks “Heyyyy, we could use a Prince for this nation to you know, defeat the other nations and he can bring us some hostages that we can make daemons and MTs out of, because Verstael needs experiments. That might be cruel though, but it’s not up to me. I’d take him but unfortunately I’m unable to raise a child anymore without being such an asshole that I am, and I do not want to be responsible for how I raise him.” Iedolas considers the thought of raising Hamlet to be a prince and to also probably screw with his thoughts later when he grows so he can be in second place to take Niflheim’s throne when it’s time for Iedolas to go, and to also pretty much guard the crystal, lead an army of regular soldiers and MTs, etc. Basically Iedolas wants to use him to do his dirty work, so he decides to adopt this Loqi and give him the name “Hamlet Aldercapt”.

When Hamlet turned a year old as a baby, he had basically been blessed by the crystal to actually become Niflheim’s new Emperor when it’s time for Iedolas to go, which had also granted him the ability to summon multiple weapons like the Lucis Caelum bloodline. I like to headcanon that only royal bloodlines can summon multiple weapons and that it’s up to them if they want to grant their followers the ability to summon weapons as well. Hamlet doesn’t know he has these powers until he turned 8 years old, he was mentored by Ardyn on how to control his abilities, but at the same time it was sort of manipulation so that he could end the Lucis Caelum bloodline as well as the Nox Fleuret bloodline and the Aldercapt bloodline. In a way this was so there would be no more monarchy and war, and everyone could live in peace without monsters or something. In reality even if there was world peace, there would probably still be monsters out there somewhere. Hamlet has no idea that he was blessed with the crystals powers, and Ardyn doesn’t really tell him about it but just tells him that he was born and blessed with it, but he doesn’t tell him the crystal blessed him with those powers.

NOW FINALLY, ABOUT THE WHOLE THING ABOUT THE LOQI WE KNOW IN THE GAME AND PROMPTO:

The Loqi we see in the game, I tend to headcanon he was abandoned somewhere in Niflheim by his own family too, and I guess luckily he was found by Verstael. While Verstael was feeling the guilt of abandoning his wife and kid because he feared his wife was going to become a daemon and that their son was probably going to become one too, he adopted that Loqi, and even before Hamlet was born, they had already decided to name him Loqi, but who’s lastname was he going to have? Verstael’s or Emilia’s? Going back to the thought on Emilia, in the end she most likely started to hate her husband for abandoning her while she was frail as well as their son who was unborn at the time, she gave him her lastname, Tummelt. Meanwhile Verstael, he still wanted a part of his wife with him, and even though the Loqi we see in the game may or may not be related to Verstael by blood, he names this abandoned kid he fount “Loqi Tummelt”, so now I guess there’s two Loqis lmao. The Loqi who is actually a false prince, considering that he’s actually Verstael and Emilia’s kid by blood, and a Loqi that Verstael found abandoned somewhere in Niflheim.

As for Prompto, we all know he was a test tube baby or something like that, but before I get into that, warning: this might get disturbing. I’m assuming “canonically” Verstael made him with his own DNA in a test tube or something like that once again. He had a bit of Emilia’s DNA on him too. I won’t get that deep into it because I even find it quite disturbing, but I have it in my head for logical development reasons lol. I’ll just say though that Verstael and Emilia did do the do, and the rest of the thought is up to you guys on how he still had some of Emilia’s DNA on him. BUT ANYWAY, so Verstael made Prompto with his and Emilia’s DNA in a test tube thing. In reality, I hate to say, but if we consider that Emilia is pretty much dead and she turned into a daemon, that would leave Prompto motherless and technically if we consider that he was a test tube baby, he is “canonically” motherless, because Emilia is pretty much dead, but even with that I still like to think that the naga daemon we saw in that one cave is Hamlet’s mother as well as Prompto’s mother because if she were still alive and if life hadn’t kicked her ass and Prompto was born from her, she’d definitely be his mother too, making him and Hamlet related by blood. SO ANYWAY AGAIN, how is Prompto related to Hamlet? Because Verstael is actually Hamlet’s dad too, but Hamlet doesn’t know that and he doesn’t know that he’s actually not of royalty, and as we know, Prompto was a test tube baby made by Verstael’s DNA (and Emilia’s), which would make Verstael Prompto’s dad too, and that would make Hamlet and Prompto related, biologically. I guess considering Verstael had adopted Loqi (not Hamlet-Loqi), that’d make Loqi their brother too, even though they’re not related by blood at all to Loqi, but Verstael adopted him, so therefore Loqi is Hamlet and Prompto’s brother too.

TL;DR

I SUCK AT EXPLAINING, BUT HAMLET HAD A FUCKED UP LIFE. VERSTAEL ABANDOEND HIM BEFORE HE WAS BORN, ADOPTED THE LOQI WE SEE IN-GAME AND NAME HIM AFTER HIS AT THE TIME UNBORN SON AND ALSO GAVE HIM HIS WIFE’S LASTNAME TO KEEP A PART OF HER IN HIS THOUGHTS OR SOMETHING, AND HE MADE PROMPTO IN A TEST TUBE WITH HIS AND EMILIA’S DNA, AND THEREFORE HAMLET, LOQI, AND PROMPTO ARE RELATED. Hamlet is the oldest, Loqi is the middle, and Prompto is the youngest.

I’m sorry my muse is so complicated and it’s my fault that I make everything complicated ;^; But I hope this starts to make sense????? Hamlet pretty much knows nothing about his true identity with being the “real” Loqi Tummelt and that he’s the son of a regular but evil mad scientist (Verstael), and the son of a regular nurse (Emilia). Hamlet is not of royal blood at all and neither are his family, but the crystal chose him to become the new Emperor of Niflhiem, because Iedolas was going to die eventually and deemed Hamlet would be worthy. Hamlet would probably be the first non-royal to have become an Emperor for Niflheim.