#and also that anything is negotiable if he complains about it enough

[abowlofpetuniasandawhale]

If I could talk to my cat for five minutes with perfect understanding I would explain to him that I do love him with all of my heart but I will be making a cup of coffee before I report for duty (sit on couch with his favorite biscuit blanket) every morning and no amount of crying or harassment is going to change this schedule

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 6 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I think this might actually be my favorite Agatha, for real? Like, the ring binder. The pOUTING. She's SO serious. I want to talk to her in a baby voice, just like, to be supportive of her little things.

And the Bohner family reunion shirt, of course. the gray socks, the garden hose sprayer as a gun. To use tumblr lingo, that's the saddest meow meow of a woman I've ever seen, and I'm obsessed with her.

GAY ON GAY VIOLENCE

joe was holding for dear life, but he didn't laugh. because he's a professional.

billy putting all the hours he spent on tvtropes dot com to good use

he's always a little smug, like he thinks he's in control, that he knows better. when he actually doesn't know shit! that's the whole attitude he brought to the Road.

and that's detective agnes o'connor to you, you little punk.

the click pen gag destroys me. this is 5 minutes of kathryn and joe being silly and, look, does it further the plot? no. am I having fun? sure am! so who's to say it's wasted time?

and the way she looks so small and lost when reality slips in for a moment, she is so precious to me.

look at the hand going in witchy position, the real agatha fighting to regain control. what a great acting choice.

for context he spent all of five minutes in the closet before bursting out in a a cloud of nail polish fumes. and it still was five minutes too many

the draMATIC zoOM IN

you thought quicksand would be enough to kill thee agatha harkness?? you're gonna need to put some more effort to it, some flair! and what's more, she's gonna complain about it the whooooole time

fare thee well swooshy coat

I just realized all the little innocent questions billy keeps peppering agatha with are exactly because he can't read her mind, so he's trying to get information for the Road on the down low

you guys keep accidentally shaping reality. it's a fairly big tell.

she tries to joke as usual, but when billy doesn't respond she sighs and tries to be soft and thoughtful. she's not AT ALL comfortable opening up so it's laced with manipulation, but hey, she tries

goddamnit she's crying again. I told you she loves billy for being billy, and not just as a nicky stand-in. this is the brilliant little boy who could always see right through her, and agatha has loved him since the day he was born.

hey there kiddo. so you've killed a few witches, happens to the best of us. look at me, killing witches never opened a gaping black chasm in my soul or anything. you're going to be fine.

billy is so not amused

just like with wanda, there's so much there. sympathy, thirst for power, genuine interest in cool witchcraft, self preservation, fear, desire. she wants to connect, she wants to squash him like a bug, she wants to steal his powers and run, she wants to MOTHER him

and in all this whirlwind of emotions, mothering wins out. and it's projecting and it's selfish, she's telling him what she wishes her own mother would have told her.

she is uplifting billy and giving him a pep talk, but she's also giving herself a pep talk. she's proudly claiming her status as a survivor, while also trying to justify - to herself and to billy - all she atrocities she's committed. like I said, there's always so much there. at least 90% of her is purely selfish, and then there's a luminous little corner of her soul that is capable of so much love.

and at the end of a speech that started calculated and became all passion, she reclaims her identity as a witch, despite all the difficult history there. her mother passed on overwhelming internalized hatred and fear of witchfolk and - inevitably, some serious self-hatred. Her sense of identity and belonging is all fucked up, she must have been trying to negotiate and come to terms with it since she was a child.

and of course, being agatha, she hates herself while still believing she's the greatest witch that ever lived.

oooh, who's an edgy boy! I've been thinking about billy's defense mechanisms too, he usually goes for the innocent teen persona (a bit like agatha chooses to play cheesy characters) but he gets so very edgy and dramatic when upset. I think deep down he's more proud and self-involved that he'd be comfortable admitting, and why wouldn't he? he's so powerful. he can read everyone around him like an open book, a part of him genuinely thinks he's figured it all out. he doesn't like being told that he's wrong because ultimately he's TERRIFIED of being wrong and making a mess of things like agatha or wanda.

and he's carrying so much destructive potential that his growing pains, the mistakes that every young person ought to make, could have catastrophic consequences. that's why he so badly needs agatha's guidance, she's the only one who could possibly understand all that. if, you know, she could only work through her own shit first.

lmao that was such an elaborate (and cruel) way to land a joke. and she KNOWS tommy's name, she's just being a bitch

mustache!

billy getting in her face to yell at her reminds me of when she's confronted by jen in the finale, she tries to joke and deflect until jen no longer allows it. she is so afraid of facing her own responsibilities.

and she gets serious just for a moment, just long enough to betray how much billy's rejection actually hurts her. and she didn't expect anything else, so she keeps rejecting people first only to be heartbroken again when they do too. such a vicious cycle.

and the walls are up again.

and she swaggers off, the wretched muddy little creature. she looks almost cool.

next up:

yeah, it's lilia's episode.

goddammit.

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

…

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[obsessive-valentine]

Yandere!Ballet-Teacher x GN!Student reader (HC’S)

Teacher is quite older than reader but reader is a consenting adult, to the relationship, not so much the yandere bit obvi bc they don’t know. Sorry I haven’t posed in a while, life’s crazy but requests are open and I’m getting to those who requested earlier this month I promise! ❤️

Who’s completely committed to this industry and creating flawless dancers and productions that he basically lives in the studio and hasn’t bothered making a family or life outside of it.

When you, a new student transferring from another company, enters and he’s enamoured by not only your cute face or abilities but also your polite and positive attitude. Something he lacks and failed to teach.

He gives you a lead role, saying it’s your chance to prove yourself to him but in all actually he’s using it as an excuse to have one-on-one lessons with you. And then they don’t stop even after you filled your role.

In fact they become frequent, and all these private’s push you to be the top of the class. His star student who he uses for demonstrations, who he pulls to the front gently by the arm and finds a way to keep touching you -either with his hand on your waist or arm sometimes even as bold as your face, puppeteering you into positions.

There’s a clear favouritism but no one expects or notices when you both begin to grow closer emotionally, because it’s behind closed doors of the office or empty studio.

Also because he’s strict with you during practice, as much as he is with the others or maybe even more, but it’s different with you it’s out of love and admiration, wanting to push you to your limits. But no one know that, they think it’s from him seeing another student with better potential (true in a way).

However after practice he loosens up, he wants to know more about you and how your brain works. What’s to try make sense of his emotional pull towards you. Sometimes your chatting ends up keeping you both late, when there’s no one left in the building but you two, not even the lady t the front desk is there.

Times like that he has to exercise restraint, bring the conversation to a end and send you on your way before it gets dark. But he still wants more, he thinks of you every hour of the evening, wondering what you’re doing in that lonely cramped apartment of yours that you’d complained about before. Or if your home safe after travelling on the late bus.

He begins offering you rides home after your late privates. “there’s been a robbery recently near your bus stop, it would really ease my mind if I could give you a ride back” he says watching you pack up before you can refuse he interrupts you “it’s dark out and dangerous, and I can’t loose my best dancer. I’ll take you home” this time his voice was firmer and seemingly made up his mind as he picked up his car keys and gestured you to follow, not waiting for a answer.

Car rides became frequent, everytime after a late private he’d drive you home. But now he’s worrying about other things, are you eating right? Ballet dancers are notorious for under eating. Are you sleeping enough? you looked a bit tired today.

He keeps a strict facade in-front of others, mastering a poker face and strong voice that makes anything he says sound like a fact or non-negotiable. And despite loosening up once your both alone or class is done he still exercises this authoritative tone to get you to answer his questions, like a loving interrogation.

He notices you begin to form a crush on him after a few personal talks and times together. He encourages this and begins teasing these emotions, every action seems more intimate.

He’s your hot, grumpy, ballet teacher -who deep down has a heart of gold. Who you can rely on beyond class. Who’s office you can sit in and vent to him. Who makes you feel better during hard times and offers to buy food for you or encourage you to take a nap on his sofa in the office. Who buys you any equipment or shoes you need, in fact as soon as your shoes are looking dead he’s ordering a new pair buy the end of the day without you having to mention it.

[annoyinglyhardsong]

CodyWan Week Day 1 Prompt: Lightsaber/Lightsaber Training

Author Note: Hello lovelies! I haven't written anything in years but I love CodyWan so I just had to participate in some way, shape, or form. Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are all welcome! Divider by @saradika-graphics, if you are looking for any cute graphics or dividers they have tons of amazing ones! Tags: Fluff, Pining, Slight angst, SFW.

As the dust cleared from the battlefield Cody, the other commanders, and their ARC troopers started looking for wounded and getting medical attention to those who needed it. As he was crossing to an outcropping where he knew many of his vode had been trapped, he caught a glimmer of something in the debris. He gave pause and looked closer, not seeing anything and thinking it was scrap from droids, he was about to continue on to his destination when the light caught it again.

It was more reflective than the battle droids and tanks that the Separatists used, and he had a feeling he knew exactly what was glinting back at him in the sun. With a sigh he made the detour to go fetch the object he was sure he was going to find buried carelessly in the rubble.

Sure enough as he got closer to the item he could make out the distinctive silver and gold markings of his General’s lightsaber. He really could not understand how the man lost the item as often as he did. “This weapon is your life,” he had heard Obi-Wan lecture Anakin and Ashoka on more than one occasion about their reckless lightsaber care, but somehow never managed to apply those teachings to himself. In a true, do as I say, not as I do fashion. 

Furthermore, it was always glued to his capable hands in battle, whirling and slicing through the enemy like an extension of himself. It was almost graceful watching his General fight. Whether on the battlefield or in the training salles Obi-Wan moved with a confidence and grace with his lightsaber that Cody found himself getting lost watching more and more.

Cody had been caught, flustered, watching Obi-Wan train and more through the forms of Soresu on more than one occasion. Something, Rex, had started to pick up on and tease him about, but he couldn’t help it.

Obi-Wan would strip the layers of his tabards and thicker outer tunics when training, leaving him in a thinner tunic that allowed Cody to appreciate the roll of muscles in his shoulders and back, the way his strong arms would reach up and block blows if he was dueling with Anakin, and if this led him to also notice his quick footwork and the toned muscles of his thighs when he lunged, well he was guilty as charged. 

He had work to do however. No time to stand around, lost in thoughts of Obi-Wan. He would have to reserve his pining for later after the clean up was over and he and Obi-Wan had gone through their no doubt tedious and extremely detailed debriefing of the mission.

 With a sigh, he picked up the lightsaber and clipped it to his belt. The small loop had been added a few months into working with his General specifically for whenever he found the discarded weapon. Really for all Obi-Wan complained about blasters and called them uncivilized, he had a habit of neglecting his more “elegant” weapon of choice. 

He quickly finished his search of the areas and assisted a handful of troopers that hadn’t  been able to seek medical attention yet and returned to base. Leaving transports and ground clean up in the hands of his capable ARC troopers he clambered aboard the next LAAT he was able to. Back aboard The Negotiator his General quickly caught up with him. 

Obi-Wan was scuffed up but looked no worse for wear than he had when they parted ways after the battle. A few smears of dirt adorned his face where he had no doubt tried to wipe away sweat and keep an errant lock of hair out of his face. There were a few singe marks through his tunics where blaster bolts had narrowly missed him, but he was unharmed. A set of piercing blue eyes caught his from across the hanger, and he brought himself back to the present, mentally cursing himself for allowing himself to get distracted. Obi-Wan needed him to do his job and be his Commander, not some pining school girl. 

“Are you alright? You seem distracted.” Obi-Wan’s crisp accent cut through the commotion around them in the hanger as Obi-Wan strode over to him. 

Cody scrambled to come up with a reason that wouldn’t compromise his relationship with the General or give away his feelings or how distracted he truly was.

 “Perfectly fine General. Just a little tired from battle is all, nothing that won’t be cleared up soon.” He tried to placate the man. 

Obi-Wan didn’t seem entirely convinced, but his expression quickly shifted from worry into a small smirk at something at Cody’s waist. Just as he was about to ask the General about it he spoke up, “I see my lightsaber has found its way to you again.” 

Cody had completely forgotten that he had it clipped to his belt. He fumbled briefly as he reached for the weapon to unclip it from his belt. “It seems I have.” He felt the smooth metal of it in his palm and the steady weight of it. It really was an elegant weapon. He made to hand it back to Obi-Wan but didn’t let go once his fingers slipped around the familiar hilt. 

“Sir,” Cody started, “you should really keep better track of this, it was under a pile of droids this time,” he gently chastised the older man. 

Obi-Wan looked embarrassed for a fraction of a second, if Cody didn’t know him so well he would have missed it. “I’m not sure how I lost it this time either, to be entirely honest. It was there when I went to chase down that splinter battalion and when I finally caught up to them it was gone.” He looked thoughtful for a second, tucking the weapon back onto his right hip, but quickly brightened and fixed Cody with a dazzling million-watt smile. “But that’s what I have you for, my dear. You always keep me together. Thank you.” 

Cody had to fight to keep a blush from creeping onto his cheeks. Obi-Wan was known to be a flirt and friendly to just about everyone, so it didn’t make his treatment of Cody special, but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel having that disarming smile turned on him. The crinkle in the corners of his eyes, and the almost mischievous spark that seemed to glint in them as a result. Recovering he answered, “Just doing my duty sir.” 

Obi-Wan turned to leave down the hallway then, but not before he clapped Cody on the shoulder and stated, “Well, C’mon Cody let’s get this debriefing over. My quarters this time?” 

“Sounds good to me, sir. As long as you don’t insist on more of that tea from Kashyyyk again. It was dreadful.” Cody answered, making a face as remembered the bitter brew the other man had insisted on drinking the last time they had done paperwork together, as he fell into step beside Obi-Wan. The answering laugh brought a warmth to his heart and a small smile to his face. 

Even if he could never tell the General how he felt about him, and even if the General never returned those feelings he figured he could be perfectly content working with this man and soaking up as much precious time as he could with him. He would gladly be his second in command and keep him safe until he drew his last breath. 

[catreginae]

This Ring is a Shield

As far as the others knew, Warriors' ring was just something he wore to make sure other people didn't flirt with him to much. What they don't know is that Warriors technically married and that the platonic nature of his marriage actually works great for both him and his wife. It should have been easy to explain the nature of his marriage but in truth, he's just tired. He's tired of the comments, tired of the advice he didn't asked for, and tired of the pity. AKA the "Warriors and his wife are both aroace but Warriors takes his sweet time telling the chain" fic. I wrote a one-shot! A long one but it's a one shot and I finished it just in time for the aro and ace prompts for the @queering-the-chain event. You can also find this fic on AO3!

When Warriors saw the collection of buildings ahead of them signifying civilization, he pulled his ring out of one of his many pouches and slipped it onto his ring finger. The ring was slightly too big when he didn’t have his gloves on but seeing as he only really wore it in uniform, he didn’t have any reason to complain about it. Getting it sized down a notch wouldn’t be difficult but the thought only ever crossed his mind when he happened to be somewhere he couldn’t get it done.

“Why do you only put the ring on when we’re around other people?” Wind asked as he sped up to keep up with Warriors.

“Because he wants people to think he’s married,” Legend answered with a shrug. “It lets people know that they don’t have a chance with him. It helps when you’re in an era that isn’t your own and you don’t want to complicate whatever this is even further. The timeline is fragile enough without becoming your own great-grandfather or something stupid like that.”

Warriors hummed, wondering if it was wise to correct Legend. The veteran was definitely correct about one thing – he didn’t want people to be interested in him. However, he was technically married. He didn’t blame the others for thinking he was single, seeing as he called Time’s wedding ring a shackle and he didn’t treat his own ring as a symbol of love and devotion. Warriors didn’t think that the others would give him a hard time if he told him that he was married and why but in his experience, trying to explain his feelings on romance and intimacy was an exercise in frustration.

“You’re on the right track,” he said after a moment of hesitation. He didn’t have to explain it all now. Warriors could just give them something to think about and leave it at that.

“Right track?” Legend huffed. “Where am I wrong?”

Warriors chuckled and ruffled Legend’s hair, dislodging his hat from where he usually kept it on his head. Legend responded with a growl as he swatted the captain’s hands away and readjusted his hat.

Thankfully, they went the rest of the day without anybody asking about the ring on his finger.

-

“Thanks for coming, Link,” Zelda greeted as Link dropped the salute and she motioned for him to sit in the chair across from hers. “I have a big favour to ask of you and you’re going to hate it.”

Link didn’t say anything, electing to let Zelda continue speaking.

“I’ve been negotiating with the Arlet family for more support in the court,” she started. Link nodded along. From what he knew of the court, a lot of the nobles were giving her some trouble regarding how she was getting and allocating funds for the ongoing reconstruction effort, which was further behind than Zelda wanted. Getting the support of any of the noble families for this issue, and any future concerns, would be a massive relief for her. The less people she had to argue with, the better. “They are willing to support me and fund some of the reconstruction themselves... in exchange for your hand in marriage with one of their daughters.”

He gulped. Oh, she was definitely right when she said he was going to hate it. Zelda knew he wasn’t interested in marriage but he supposed that when he pledged allegiance to Zelda and Hyrule, that was out of his hands. She said it would be a favour but Link knew there wasn’t actually a choice in the matter. After all, she didn’t actually ask him.

“Do I at least get to meet her?”

“That can be arranged. Link... look, I know you don’t want to be married but...”

“It’s politics. I know.”

-

“Gah! Where is it?” No matter how many times Warriors looked through all of his bags and pouches, he couldn’t find his ring. It wouldn’t be missed or hard to replace thanks to the fact that he married into nobility but he didn’t want to have to admit to his in-laws that ever lost it in the first place. His wife wouldn’t care because she wasn’t all attached to the rings whatsoever and she only wore hers when she had to leave the villa. He couldn’t afford to be an embarrassment to Athena though.

Maybe it was on the ground? He swore he had it before they set up camp, so it couldn’t have gone too far away.

“What are you looking for?” Four asked. Warriors was so engrossed in his search that he jumped slightly when he heard Four.

“My ring. I can’t find it in any of my bags.”

Without question, Four got down on his hands and knees and started patting the ground for it. As far as the rest of them knew, it was a cheap ring he used to prevent people from flirting with him too much, but it was kind of Four to help him find it regardless of what he might have thought it was.

“Oh, here it is!” Four announced as he held up the ring. “Huh, this is good quality gold and I think I see engraving... Are you sure that this is just-”

“Thanks for finding it!” Warriors said as he plucked the ring out of Four’s fingers and put it back in his satchel where it usually stayed when he wasn’t wearing it on his finger. He really ought to find a better place for it. Maybe he should use it for its intended purpose more often and just wear it on his finger, even if he didn’t care for the symbolism behind it.

“Maybe you should have a small pocket for it in your satchel. Maybe with some sort of button. It would suck if you lost it in another era.”

“That’s not a bad idea...” It wouldn’t be hard to make a pocket inside of this satchel. He just needed some more material for it. Why didn’t he think of that before?

-

Link sat in one of Zelda’s meeting rooms with his heart drumming in the pit of stomach. He was sitting at a small, rounded table with a pot of tea and some biscuits in the middle. He already poured himself a cup and ate one of the biscuits in an effort to calm his nerves a bit. It didn’t help. He found himself wishing he was outside fighting something big – at least he was confident in his swordsmanship.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Link shifted so that his back was straight. A guard in full uniform opened the door and walked in, followed by a tall yet slim woman with chestnut coloured hair pinned into a bun. Her dress was plain, yet well-made from what Link could see, and the green and brown colour scheme matched her green eyes. When she approached the table, Link realized she would be taller than he was if he stood up. She took the seat opposite of his.

“I take it you’re Captain Link?”

“Yes. Just Link is fine.”

“You can call me Vivienne,” she said as she held her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Link took it. “Likewise...” he said as the guard walked out. Once the door was closed, Link let her hand go. “Before we start talking, I just wanted to say that I’m not actually... interested in couple things. I don’t really like romance and I never had the desire for intimacy and no offense, but I don’t think that will change any time soon. If I had a choice, I would probably never get married or hook up with anybody.”

He was the man who stared death in the face several times in his life so far but telling a stranger who was going to be his wife how he actually felt about being married was one of the most nerve-wracking things he had ever done. He was less nervous when the fate of Hyrule was resting on his shoulders.

“I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up...” he added slowly when she didn’t respond at first.

“Link, it’s... it’s fine. In fact... I was trying to figure out how I would say the same thing to you. I’m glad you said it first,” she said with an awkward chuckle but she also had an easy smile that actually made Link relax a little.

“So... we want the same thing. Am I hearing that right?”

“Yes. It seems as though we make a good match, though not for the typical reasons noble families arrange marriages for their children. We can make this work, I’m sure. After all, I doubt either one of us would get this opportunity to marry like minded people again.” She relaxed her shoulders as reached for one of the biscuits. That was when it finally sunk in for Link – he had nothing to fear. Zelda wouldn’t know it but her favour was actually a blessing.

“No kidding. Just to think I was so scared,” he said with a deep sigh, putting a hand on his chest. “If nothing else, I know how to put on a show.”

-

Spending time at the ranch was sometimes a bit of an odd affair for Warriors. It wasn’t that he hated doing hard work that often involved him getting dirty somehow, as much as the others like to make assumptions about his current life that happened to be close to the city. He didn’t mind any of the work Time gave them just to keep them busy and tire them out because collectively, they needed to burn some energy. None of them were really good at just sitting still.

He just felt awkward around Malon and Time sometimes. It wasn’t anything they did together or even separately – he loved them both. He was happy for both of them because they truly seemed to fit well together. Time deserved to be happy after everything he went through.

The problem was that he couldn’t get his brain to shut up. Sometimes, it was hard to watch Time and Malon enjoy their marriage without all the ‘life advice’ and the persistent questioning about his nonexistent dating life racing through his head and weighing him down. He could imagine all of those people pointing at Time and Malon, setting them up as the prime example of everything he was supposedly missing out on.

Aren’t you lonely without a partner? You just have to find the right person, then you’ll fall in love. You’ll settle down later in life, you’re just busy right now. Won’t you regret it if you don’t have any kids?

Those weren’t even the worst. The worst was the pity, the way they looked like they were sorry for him.

Like he was broken.

“Warriors?”

“Hm?” It took him a second to realize that somebody was trying to talk to him. It also took him a second to realize that his wrist was sore from holding his head up as he lounged against the horse fence. How long did he zone out for? His brain, his current worst enemy, helpfully reminded him that getting distracted like that in the battlefield would have gotten him or somebody else killed. Thanks, brain, he really needed that.

“Wow, you really are distracted,” Legend mumbled. “What’s going on? You look upset.”

Legend was good at teasing and poking fun but he was also good at knowing when it wasn’t welcomed. He must have zoned out for longer than he thought if Legend was frowning at him like that.

“It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? You’re all tense. I know the ranch will never be completely safe but you can relax a little bit.”

“I... yeah.” Legend was right, though not for the reason he might have thought. He shouldn’t let a bunch of people he could barely remember ruin his time at the ranch. How often do people get to travel through time and visit their now giant little brother’s home? Time and Malon did absolutely nothing but be welcoming and kind to him. It wasn’t them who tried to give him advice he never asked for. “I think I’ll just head inside.”

He heard Legend huff as pushed himself off the fence and walked inside the house.

-

Link woke up with the sun as he always did but it still took him a moment to remember just where he was waking up. He wasn’t used to the soft bed sheets, he wasn’t used to sleeping with more pillows than anybody actually needed to sleep, and he wasn’t used to being vaguely aware of another body in the same bed he was in. Luckily, his bed and sheets were so large that he had yet to really feel Vivienne moving around, but that didn’t stop him from being aware that she was there.

This morning though, she wasn’t there and if his head didn’t pound so much, he would have gotten up to go look for her. He always woke up before she did.

No, he should get up anyway. He had to go to the training grounds. The army had a lot of new recruits and he was one of the captains responsible for training the recruits who started to show some promise with a sword or at least seemed interested in learning how to use one. He sat up and a wave of dizziness struck him, forcing him to settle his head into his hands with his elbows digging into his thighs. His head was still pounding. His stomach felt like it was going to betray him.

Suddenly, the door opened. Link didn’t lift his head up to see who it was but only Vivienne would be around at the moment. The only other person who spent a lot of time in the villa, a women they hired named Clarissa who helped them maintain the villa, didn’t come in until much later in the morning. Usually, Link only saw her when he returned home and she was just getting ready to leave.

“Go back to sleep, Link,” Vivienne said as she guided him back down to the mattress. “I’ve already pulled a couple of strings to make sure that anybody who was expecting you knows you’re not available for the foreseeable future. You have quite the fever there.”

Oh, yeah, that would explain things.

However, it was also putting it mildly.

He was barely able to keep anything down except for some plain toast and water and even then, sometimes the toast was too much. His head never stopped aching or spinning so he had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep. Vivienne was concerned enough to call for a doctor, who was constantly trying new medicine or new dosages. Sometimes he could keep the medicine down, sometimes he couldn’t. The doctor came daily to check for any signs for change for better or for worse. He supposed that was a perk to being married into a noble family – they had the extra rupees to pay for a doctor’s full attention.

No matter how bad it got though, Vivienne and Proxi, who dropped into their home at some point and declared that she was staying until he felt better, were always around for him. Proxi helped with encouraging words or translating his mumbled speech to Vivienne or the doctor. Vivienne was always there to help him feel more comfortable, like washing his face and back, changing the sheets, or holding his hair back when something upset his stomach too much. Sometimes, she even rubbed small circles into his back until he drifted off to sleep for as long as his body would allow.

All in all, it took nearly three weeks before Link was well enough to return to the barracks. They weren’t married for that long and once he was well, Link found himself a little embarrassed that one of her first impressions of him was him being violently ill.

Vivienne simply smiled when he said as much. “Link, we might be stuck together but I consider you to be a friend nonetheless and when one of my friends is suffering, I try my best to make it better. I’m glad you’re alright now and I’m glad I didn’t catch whatever that was.”

“You should be. It was awful.”

-

“I didn’t know you liked cats,” Twilight said with a grin as squatted down to scratch one of them behind the ears while Warriors was busy petting one down the length of its back. It was a creamy-white colour with long, fluffy fur that seemed pretty well taken care of if it was truly a stray. All the cats he saw had soft and shiny coats, seemed to be of a healthy weight, and he didn’t see any signs of illness. Maybe somebody did take care of them all. There were a few people in his own Castletown who took it upon themselves to make sure the strays were doing well.

He felt like he ought to be doing more, since they were in a large city and not every era had a big city to explore. Twilight’s Castletown felt much like his own, busy and bursting with life, including the very many cats he found in one of the residential side streets. However, he was busy petting cats and he didn’t think the cats weren’t going to let him go anytime soon even if he did want to leave. The cats were the perfect distraction for his very busy mind and they seemed to sense that he needed a distraction because they surrounded him in an instant. He was petting one or two at a time but the rest were doing their own thing, simply content to bless him with their presence. How could he possibly leave them to go do errands?

“Oh, I love them! I have one of my own, actually.”

Warriors always did enjoy cats but his parents never allowed one in their home, since it was attached to their store and well, his parents didn’t want fur all over the clothes they were trying to sell. He didn’t like it but his parents had a point. It wasn’t until he moved in with Vivienne that a pet was feasible – they had the room and she spent most of her time indoors, so Penelope was never alone for too long.

“Really? You have a pet? Aren’t you busy being a big shot in the army?” Twilight asked with the grin that always accompanied his playful jabs to Warriors’ career choice.

“Well, I don’t live alone. I have a roommate who takes care of her when I’m not around. That’s why we picked her out together from a neighbour’s litter. She looks kind of like this one,” Warriors said, gesturing to the cat he was petting, “but she’s all white and her name is Penelope.”

“Penelope!” Twilight was practically squealing. “Fucking adorable.”

Thankfully, Twilight didn’t ask about his roommate. He didn’t feel like explaining that his roommate was actually his wife and Penelope was regarded as their child and she was even introduced to his in-laws as such. Link inquired about putting Penelope in their will to inherit their estate should they both die suddenly and tragically young but her parents only begrudgingly called Penelope ‘the furry grandchild’, so they wouldn’t find it as funny as they did. Unless they adopted a Hylian child or brought more cats into the house, Penelope was the only ‘grandchild’ her parents were getting from them. Maybe they won’t care – Vivienne wasn’t their only child to get grandchildren from and she wasn’t inheriting the main estate anyway.

“I hope you know that if we’re ever in your neck of the woods, we’re going to see her. You’re not allowed to hide a cat from me.”

Warriors found himself laughing. “Twilight, I know better than to get between you and an animal.”

-

Link was grateful that his in-laws didn’t try to parade them around or throw extravagant parties on their behalf that often. Their wedding was mostly just friends and family from both sides and it took place in the Arlet estate garden, so it was out of the view of the public. Vivienne said something about how they were glad she got married at all, so maybe they were afraid to rock the boat too much. Maybe that’s why they didn’t argue when Penelope was introduced as their child.

For their first anniversary, her parents decided once again to forgo something fancy and just gifted the two a bunch of wine that they definitely drank too much of that night because he couldn’t really remember what they did besides drink a lot. He did remember waking up on the bedroom floor with Penelope sleeping on his back. Her parents didn’t leave Penelope out of the celebration either, giving her a bed that she went on to use a lot.

But Link knew that one day, his in-laws would drag him to some sort of function where they would show him off. He was the hero and a noble now.

He couldn’t say he was surprised when his father-in-law showed up at his door unannounced, thankfully when he was actually home, and told him and Vivienne that he was hosting a party and he expected the two of them to be there. Luckily, he already had clothes for the occasion that Vivienne said were nice enough – a gift from his tailoring family when he got married – and he went to fancy dinner parties before as a bodyguard, so at least he wasn’t going in blind.

“Vivienne and Link!” They spent maybe all of five seconds at her father’s before he found them near the entrance. Link wouldn’t have been surprised if he was waiting for them. His father-in-law gestured towards the rest of his estate with a grin on his face. “Link, let me show you around. This is your first time inside the main estate, yes?”

Link looked back at Vivienne. She simply shook her head. They were stuck following his father-in-law around his estate. Link couldn’t tell if it was because he was proud of his estate and actually liked showing it off to people or if it was some clever way to show off Link himself to the guests that were already there. He was certainly recognized as the hero even though his scarf was missing. At least he was used to getting looks from strangers all the time.

But it was made tolerable with Vivienne being close by, offering some sort of comment about what trouble she got into as a kid when her father introduced them to a new wing of the estate. Apparently, she was quite the fan of climbing when she was a child and he could see it in her father’s face that he wasn’t sure if he should have been amused or exasperated by the memories. When her father let them go to hang out and eat in the dining room, the two of them stuck together in a lonely corner of the room, watching and making quiet comments about the other guests. Vivienne knew most of them and had some juicy details to share.

If Link had to summarize the party, he would call it two friends suffering together. He had a decent time but it wasn’t because of anything that was offered at the party – it was spending time with a friend and engaging in gossip.

It made him think of all the people he could have been stuck with, all the people who would want more than he was comfortable with offering or just couldn’t offer at all. He couldn’t reciprocate romantic feelings as he didn’t feel them and the thought of being intimate made him deeply uncomfortable.

But being friends and sharing a space with Vivienne was easy. They were two friends who had to pretend to be more sometimes, but the important part was that they both knew that it was a game.

-

Warriors frequented taverns and pubs, not just to have a drink or two with those he was close to but because drunk people were a fountain of information. It was less helpful in his own era since people knew who he was and were more guarded around him, but in other eras where people had no idea who he was? They saw no reason to filter their words and they told him all sorts of things. Sometimes it was useful but sometimes he just got sucked into whatever gossip there was and he didn’t learn anything that would help them.

Today, he was at a pub with Sky and Twilight. He didn’t drink with them often, just once or twice in Time’s era when Time dragged them to Castletown. Time was his usual drinking buddy but he seemed pretty tired so he declined his invitation. It was times like those where he truly lived up to his ‘old man’ nickname.

Alcohol didn’t change Twilight that much. His accent was definitely coming out more and he was a bit louder but otherwise, Twilight was acting mostly the same. Sky was quieter after a couple of drinks, like he was contemplating matters of existence. The chosen hero wasn’t the chattiest to begin with but after a few drinks, he didn’t start conversations anymore. He needed to be roped into it.

They were only a few drinks in when a woman slid into the seat beside him with a wide grin on her face. Great, he knew exactly where this was going. Before she could say anything, Warriors held up his hand with his ring on it. “Before you say anything, just know that I’m already taken.”

“Oh, are they here right now?” she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd before her gaze settled on him again. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Warriors snapped back. “I’m happy with my wife.”

“Is she happy with you? You’ve got the look of a military man. When’s the last time you’ve gone home to see her? Are you sure she’s been as loyal to you as you are to her?”

Warriors wasn’t sure what her goal was. He never had anyone who wanted to sleep with him insult him and his wife in the span of a minute. Was she mad that he rejected her?

“You don’t know anything. If you’re trying to get me into bed with you, you’re failing miserably,” he said as he stood up. Sky and Twilight caught him and he spotted Twilight fishing out his wallet as Warriors found the shortest route to the exit. He didn’t look back as he headed to the one familiar spot in town and stepped into the room he was sharing with Four and Hyrule. He must have looked a mess because the two took one look at him and stayed away from him for the rest of the night. Just as well, he didn’t feel like talking.

He knew he couldn’t avoid it though. He wasn’t surprised that Sky found him in the morning as Warriors chugged down some water, hoping that the minor ache in his head would disappear if he had more water. At least, Warriors hoped that the minor headache came from alcohol and not because that woman at the bar made him so angry that he had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep.

Though, if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just the encounter at the bar. His mind raced constantly, dredging up experiences and memories that he wanted to bury and never look at again. Ever since he was asked about his ring, he couldn’t stop thinking about all of the unhelpful and unwarranted advice he got when he was single or all the pity he got when people thought he was stuck in a sad, loveless marriage. Warriors just couldn’t stop thinking about it even when he wanted to or needed to focus on something else.

He hoped they weren’t travelling. He was pretty sure he wasn’t fit for it.

“Why did you storm out of the bar last night? Was it the woman?”

“Of course it was the woman!”

Sky smiled awkwardly and rubbed at the back of his neck. Shit, he shouldn’t have answered his question like that. He wasn’t mad at Sky.

“What did she say that set you off? Twilight and I didn’t really hear it.”

“She wanted me to cheat on my wife and when I rejected her, she start insinuating that my wife was cheating on me and before you ask, I actually do have a wife.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant when you said Legend was on the right track,” he mumbled as he titled his head slightly. “You are actually married, huh?”

“It’s a political marriage. Athena needed extra support from a noble and she got it when I married the noble’s daughter. Through marriage with the hero, that family is now closer than ever to the royal family and in return, Athena has more weight to throw against other nobles.”

“So you didn’t marry for love?” Sky asked with a slight pout on his lips that often came with confusion. Warriors could feel his frustration bubble under his skin but he took a deep breath. It wasn’t Sky’s fault that Warriors had this conversation before with a bunch of other people who didn’t understand that not everybody wants to date or be in a marriage or be intimate.

“I’m actually happy this way. I don’t care if it’s a ‘loveless’ marriage. We both knew what we were getting into before the documents were drawn up and before we were actually married. I made it clear to her the first time we met that I wasn’t interested in sex or romance. It turns out she feels the same way. We’re just roommates who occasionally have to pretend that we are more than just roommates. We share a home, we share a bed that’s so big we barely know there’s somebody else in it, and we share custody of a cat named Penelope. I’m not interested in anything more than that.”

Sky hummed for a moment, then smiled. “Well, if that’s what you want, then that arrangement sounds perfect for both of you. As long as you’re both happy, nobody should get a say about what the two of you do or don’t do together.”

For a moment, Warriors was taken aback. In his experience, it generally took a lot more convincing before somebody backed off and switched topics. He didn’t know why it was so hard to convince people that was actually happy.

“Why didn’t you say this before, though? Everybody would have understood.”

“Because it’s tiring... before I got married, everyone and their grandma would tell me that I just had to meet the right person, then I would want to date and get married and have kids. If I met the right person, I would be ‘normal’. Now that they know this marriage is political more than anything else... they fucking pity me. They think the fact that I didn’t marry for love is something to pity. Some people even tell me I’ll learn to fall in love with my wife. They just can’t fathom that somebody just... doesn’t care about any of that. It’s so tiring. I’m tired of trying to explain it and people looking at me like I’m broken or something. No matter how many times I tell them I’m happy, they just don’t believe me.”

Sky frowned. “Has... this been on your mind for a while? We all noticed that you seemed distracted lately.”

He only nodded. The thoughts probably would have started bothering him at some point, even if nobody asked about his ring. They seem to come and go, more often when he was in town and people tried to talk to him. However, the current cyclical nature of his thoughts was because he was asked about his ring and he had to think about how to answer.

“Do you ever plan on telling the others that you’re married?”

“If we end up nearby, yes.” He did tell Twilight he could meet Penelope and even if he didn’t, the villa would be a nice break for them and their wallets. They were always maintaining guest rooms that didn’t get used so it would be nice if the villa was full of people for once. It was far too large for a family of three and their hired help. “For now, I just need to collect my thoughts.”

Though... it helped that Sky took it so well. Maybe he wouldn’t have to explain it to them more than once. They would probably believe him if he said he was actually happy with his arrangement.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need any help.”

“I will. Thanks, Sky.”

-

Warriors thought there would be more time between his conversation with Sky and the conversation he knew he needed to have with the others before they set up in the villa for a few days. It was only a couple of weeks after he talked to Sky that a portal took them to a battle and it was when he was wiping the black blood off his blade that he realized that he recognized the castle in the distance. His villa was only about a half an hour from the castle.

“To the castle?” Twilight asked.

“Actually, there’s a place we should go first. Athena can wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, so this is your era,” Legend said with a nod. “What’s this stop you plan on taking?”

“My place. It’s big enough to fit all of us comfortably.”

Wind raised an eyebrow. “How big is your place?”

“It’s...” Was this how he was going to start explaining who Vivienne was? By explaining why he can comfortably host them all? His gaze met with Sky’s, who gave him an encouraging nod. “It’s a villa. I moved in when I got married.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Legend glared him. “Is that what you meant when you said I was on the right track? You could have just said so! It was bugging me ever since you said it.”

Warriors rolled his eyes. “I didn’t feel like explaining it back then. Even now, it’s a little difficult...” He took a deep breath. “I got married because Athena asked me to. I didn’t pick my wife but it’s pretty convenient for both of us because we are both just happy being friends. If I had to get married to somebody else, I wouldn’t be able to return any romantic feelings and being intimate would be out of the question. We have to put on a show sometimes but that’s a small price to pay to able to say I’m married and not have to do anything I’m uncomfortable with.”

He had no doubt that there were questions but the others simply nodded, except for Sky who offered two thumbs up instead. Maybe they were just saving questions for later but he wasn’t going to complain about the break. They probably cared more about having a roof over their heads than about his odd but convenient marriage.

Wind hummed for a moment before putting a hand on his chin. “So your wife won’t mind if we stay at your place then?”

“I doubt she would care. In fact, she might even be happy that we’re using the guest rooms as guest rooms for once.”

“What are they being used for now?” Time asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Decoration.”

“Wait, this means we get to meet Penelope!”

“Who?”

“His cat!” Twilight answered with a wide grin. “C’mon, butts in gear! We have a cat to meet!”

There were some grumbles but the group started moving, following Warriors as he led them to the villa. It was nearly sunset by the time they got there so he wasted no time in opening the front gate and letting everybody in. He stopped them as soon as they got into the front doors and he couldn’t immediately see her nearby. He didn’t think she would get upset about the villa being used as an inn for a few days, he wanted to give her a little bit of warning.

He found Penelope first in one of their many hallways so he scooped her up and kept looking for Vivienne until he found her in her plant room, which was the room in the villa with the most windows. She was bent over one of the pots trimming the plant inside of it. He cleared his throat to let Vivienne know he was coming in so she didn’t startle and drop the trimmers.

“Oh, you’re home.” She straightened her back and turned around to face him.

“For a bit. If there’s another lead, I’ll have to go again. I have company though!”

“Oh, those heroes you mentioned in the single letter I got?” she asked with a smirk. Warriors winced internally – they were still friends and he should really let her know more often that he was still alive and her father didn’t have to find a new husband for her. “I’m not upset, by the way. I can only imagine that time travel complicates things, to say the least.”

“Yeah. I got busy. I didn’t realize I only sent one letter,” he mumbled as he ran a hand through Penelope’s fur. “But they’re in the lobby if you want to meet them. I told them they could stay here for a few days since we have the room.”

“It would be a shame not to use it. It might be the only time we’ll fill all four guest rooms at the same time. Let’s go show them their rooms, then. My parents didn’t raise me to be a bad host.”

Warriors’ heart pounded in his chest was they walked back to the lobby. He couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. The others would be nice to Vivienne and they knew she was his wife, so there wasn’t anything to hide. Vivienne was generally pretty nice and she got along with the people he was close with before. It should go well but his nerves were still getting the best of him.

Finally, he saw the other heroes, who were all studying Vivienne.

“Wow, she’s tall!” Wind gasped. Vivienne was a bit taller than Time, as it turned out and she wasn’t even wearing shoes. Her entire family was tall – taller than he was – so he wasn’t exactly surprised that she beat them all.

“We’re just kind of short,” Time chimed in, shaking his head.

“This is Vivienne,” Warriors started, gesturing with his free arm, “and this our daughter, Penelope. Vivenne, you already know their names but they’ll introduce themselves with their nicknames sooner or later.”

“Can I hold Penelope?” Twilight asked, arms outstretched.

“Just keep her belly down, she hates being on her back,” he warned as she gently passed her over.

It was a good thing that Penelope enjoyed a lot of attention. Once she was settled in Twilight’s arms, it wasn’t just Twilight who was petting her – half the group was reaching around and crowding Twilight to get a chance to pet her. Warriors could hear her purring over the excited cooing coming from the boys.

“I hope she doesn’t expect that much attention from now on,” Vivienne mumbled before she turned to the others. “I know Penelope is amazing but I should show you to your rooms. Penelope doesn’t leave the house, she’ll be around for more petting later. She may even pick one your rooms to spend the night in later.”

“We’ll be back,” Twilight said quietly as he pet her on the head one more time and set her down on the floor. Warriors watched as everybody followed her, looking around the villa as they did so. Penelope purred and rubbed her head on his leg so he picked her up once again.

“That went well,” he mumbled as he looked down at her giant green eyes. “Especially for you.”

She meowed.

“Yeah, you are spoiled. You deserve it, though.”

Instead of following everybody to the guest rooms, he headed towards the master bedroom to change into something more comfortable. He set Penelope down on their bed – neither he nor Vivienne cared if Penelope got her fur all over it – and slowly stripped off all of his equipment and gear, dropping everything on the floor by his side of the bed to deal with later.

One loose shirt and clean pair of trousers later, he left the master bedroom to find that everybody was gathered at the kitchen table that he and Vivienne usually used for their own dinners. The only person not at the table was Wild, who was poking around in the oven to warm it up. There was a more official dining room in the villa but they only used that one when Vivienne had family over and it had one of those long dining tables that made Warriors wonder if anybody actually wanted to eat together. The table in the kitchen was a little small for the size of the group but they were all used to butting into each other’s space all the time.

Warriors decided to stay on the periphery of the conversations, joining only when their conversations were directed at him. He wanted his brothers and his wife to get along, so he wasn’t going to intrude when it seemed like they were actually bonding. Vivienne was relaxed, talking to the group in the same way she spoke to him or the few times he saw she had a couple of the neighbours over for some tea. It was also the same way she spoke to Clarissa, as the two of them became friends pretty quickly. She spoke more formally with some of her family members than she did with the other heroes.

As for the heroes, they were behaving as he expected – they were asking Vivienne for embarrassing stories about him. Oh, well. If that was the price of peace, he would let it slide. It wasn’t like she had a lot on him in particular.

Once they all had dinner and tea, the group of heroes all headed to their rooms, except for Sky. He helped himself to the last of the tea in pot and started to headed to his assigned room but he made sure that he passed Warriors.

“You did a good job today,” he said quietly, adding a small but sincere smile before leaving.

Once he was gone, Vivienne tapped him on the shoulder. “He’s right, you did a good job. I know it’s not easy to tell people we’re married,” she started before gesturing toward their own bedroom, “but we should go to get some rest too if we’re hosting this many people.”

“They can be a handful,” Warriors mumbled. “I’m sure Penelope is waiting for us anyway. Let’s go.”

[fandomnoire]

five more minutes

a/n: idk i just woke up thinking about nuzzling against patrick’s thigh like a cat

(there's no smut just some suggestion; also i wrote this super quickly after an embarrassing amount of time of not writing so thank you for your attention!)

You half-breathe out something that could be Patrick's name as you stir slightly at the momentary din of his alarm cutting through your bedroom before he silences it. You’re vaguely aware enough of him to nuzzle against his face when he kisses your cheek, clinging to him – and to sleep – a little tighter. He buries himself against you, his arms wrapping around you, his long legs tangling with yours. He's still barely awake as he holds you against him, his heart warm at the way your body instinctively curls into his, like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. He sighs in contentment, his eyes closing again as he holds you against him for a long moment.

It takes every single ounce of willpower he has in him to pull himself from the softness of your embrace but he’s supposed to be meeting his trainer for a run. He reluctantly untangles himself from you, even as he aches at the loss of your soft skin and the curves of your body as you seemed to melt over him. 

You make a noise of protest as he pulls away, disrupting the perfect cocoon the two of you had created together in the blankets. Even half-asleep your body registers his absence with keen clarity as you're shifted by his moving and left with an empty place where he had been. You wake more fully a moment later, blinking sleepily, mouth down turned when you realize that he’s pulled on a pair of trackpants and is currently in the middle of pulling on a t-shirt. "Come back to bed," you whine, your voice hoarse with sleep. You fold yourself forward to lay in the space where his body had been as you lazily clutch the sheet to yourself.

His resolve nearly breaks. He’s hardly known for his self-restraint and he has been embarrassed to realize that he’s particularly weak-willed when it comes to you. "I can’t, baby."

Though he’s already crossing back to you.

You may be drowsy but you manage to look rather pleased with yourself as he sits next to you on the bed and kisses the crescent shape of your bent body left uncovered by the sheet – your side, the faint ridge of your ribs, your back, your shoulder, your neck.

You murmur out a contented sound and shift, curling further to lay your head on his thigh, the muscle firm and yet soft under your head – the perfect pillow. He strokes a hand through your dark curls and you think you’d purr if he asked you to.

"You're making this difficult," he complains without malice or annoyance.

"Just kiss me good morning," you say in the sweetest voice you can manage and you know that you’ve got him on a leash right now. He shouldn't. He shouldn't just give in this easily. But how can he deny you anything?

“Okay,” he tries to grumble but then you shift up onto your knees and let the sheet slip away from your bare body as you lean up, your arms wrapping around Patrick's neck as you pull him in closer. And then he’s helpless at the feel of you, soft and warm under his hands, the softness of your breasts against his chest. 

He knew this was a trap.

"Five more minutes?" You negotiate, your lips against his as you refuse to completely break the kiss.

His eyes close in resignation. "Fine," he groans, his voice low and husky, "Five more minutes."

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P1

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Violence, Death and Blood.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ..... Next Part >

Gunfire, cannon fire, yelling and screams fills the air as the Kid pirates take on the many marine ships in search of the treasure they were carrying. There's never a real plan when your with the Kid pirates since Captain Kid usually charges in head first destroying anything and everything in his way but Killer made sure to give the crew an idea of what to expect and how to go about things. The crew split up into groups taking on different ships in search of the treasure while others stayed on the Victoria firing cannonballs at the marine ships that were coming as backup. If they found the treasure then they would load it onto a smaller ship to send it back to the Victoria Punk before sinking the ship or calling out to their Captain, so he could continue his destruction. Several ships had already sunk thanks to Kid going a little crazy on the violence, it seemed random but the pirate Captain has been doing this long enough to know just by looks which ships won't carry any kind of treasure. It didn't matter if his crew were on those ships since they knew well enough to stay out of their captains away and get off any ship he was going to attack. Killer went straight for the biggest ship knowing thats where their leader is, The marine was only ranked a captain, he honestly expected a higher rank with how many ships there were and how much treasure and weapons their supposedly carrying, but he couldn't complain. While the few crew members he was with searched the ship and took out the low ranked marines Killer fought against their leader slashing and kicking at the man who could hardly keep up with the first mates movements and speed.

Heat used a rope to swing from one marine ship to another, he rolled before pulling out his sword and slashing a marine that ran at him before standing up right. He has no chose but to switch groups since the ship you were on had explosives, his fire would make things worse, but he had confidence that you can handle it and get the ship away from the fight so it doesn't hurt the crew. Heat scans the deck seeing marine body's scattered all over, but he couldn't see any of his crew until a girl with short blonde hair runs out of one of the rooms carrying two large bags of what sounded like gold coins. "Heat, what are you doing here?" Hip yells seeing her crew mate and running up to him before coming to a stop "That ship has explosives on them, be careful in case the others do too" Heat reply's earning a frustrated sigh from the woman "Great that's just what we need, The Boss is still going mental, Killer is fighting a Captain a few ships over and now some of the ships might have explosives" She groans as other members of the crew start running over holding wooden crates and bags of gold. "Get the treasure back to the Victoria and tell the others to be on the look out, I'll inform Killer and Kid" Heat order the group who all nod before running off to the boat that will take them back to their ship. With Killer a few ships away and Kid further than that he knew he would have to swing his way over using the ropes while also fighting any marines that got in his way.

The marine Captain pants while holding his stomach after being slashed by Killers blade, other marines came in to help only to be quickly taken out by the first mate. Using the last of his strength the marine yells while running at the masked man bringing his sword down to slash at the masked man but Killer easily doges it while spinning his blades and cutting the marine captain in half. Two thunks hit the decks floor but after that it was silent, no more yelling, screaming or gunfire from the ship he's currently on until someone lands on the deck. Killer turns ready to fight only to see Heat, his friend letting go of the rope before stepping closer, anxiety wells up inside the masked man since head is supposed to be with you "Some ships have explosives but Hips group found some of the treasure" Heat explains as quickly as he can while looking out at the other ships seeing his Captain bringing a big mental hand down on one braking it in half and making it sink. Killer sighs before turning to look over at Kid "HAY KID" The first mate yells managing to get the captain's attention who jumps over to the ship their on, landing hard on the deck his boots cracking the wood bellow until he releases some of the metal on his arm making him much lighter "You found the treasure yet?" Kid asks walking over to the two, Heat nods but looks back to the ship you were on, his eyes widening when noticing it was heading towards the Victoria Punk "What the fuck is she doing?" He didn't mean to yell it out loud, but he didn't think you would bring the ship closer, unless it wasn't you doing it.

Killer and Kid jump at the sudden yell of their friend since its highly unlike him to yell, turning their attention to the ship he's looking at Killer places a hand on Heats shoulder turning his crew mate to face him "What is going on?" The masked man's voice was calm but there was a bit of worry in his voice "That ship has explosives on it, Y/n was supposed to steer it out to sea not towards the Victoria" Heat panics but soon hears Kid let out a laugh "Don't worry, look its turning away, our feisty girl's got this" The captain smiles watching as the marine ship heads further and further out to sea before starting to turn going to head to the marine ships that are coming as backup, the three relax knowing you now have the ship under your control "Alight lets get ba-" Kid goes to order when a cannon goes off soon followed by an explosion, his eyes widen as the ship you were on burst into flames and rips apart, a wave of hot hair rushes across the sea causing the water to ripples and bounces forcing the marine ships to crash into each other. The sound of creaking, cracking and yelling rings through the air as the marines and the Kid pirates all try to get to safety, marine ships thats crash into each other start to break apart making masts fall either hitting another ship or crashing into the water. The three covers their faces with their arms as the hot air reaches them almost forcing them back a bit while the marine ship their on sways a little, once the burning wave of heat passes the three look up from their arms seeing the burning mast of the ship you were on cracks apart and fall into the water as the ship starts to sink.

Kid curses out loud his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of losing you and the members of his crew that were on that ship, His legs move before he can tell them too starting to run off jumping from ship to ship, the explosion made all the ships move loser together so it was easy for the captain to jump from one to the next. Killer felt his heart stop for a second, but he hoped you had gotten off the ship before it went up in flames, The masked man was quick to follow his captain "Heat, get the rest of the crew back to the Victoria" Killer yells back stopping Heat from following. The first mate knew that with the marine ships still crashing into each other and falling apart that the rest of the crew is in danger. The two only stop when they make it to the last none sinking marine ship, but they were still not close enough. The burning ship is too far out to sea, the only things they could make out were pieces of wood floating and black shadow's under the water although they were too far away to know if it was a part of the ship or a person. "Kid, we should get the crew back to the Victoria, take out the other marine ships, and then we can look for Y/n and the others" The first mate finally speaks snapping the captain out of his spiraling thoughts of how they might find you, he didn't like the idea of backing off but on the other hand Killer was good at planning and it would be easier to find you and the other crew members without all the fighting and other marine ships around. "Shit, fine." Kid growls at Killer who nods letting his finger loop over one of his captains.

It didn't take too long for everyone to gather what they could and make it back to the Victoria, Kid sank a few ships on the way back and once all the crew other than your group was accounted for the Victoria unloaded Cannon fire ripping apart the marine ships along with some of the back up ones. Seeing they were out matched by the pirate crew the other marine ships fled out to sea, with the air around the sea now silent and night falling, Kid orders his crew to head over to the slightly burning marine ship and look for the rest of the crew. In groups the crew put small boats in the water and headed out as the Victoria sat in the water close by, their lantern's helped in the fading light while Killer and Kid stood in the dinosaurs skull looking out at the almost fully submerged ship. The wait was long making the already worried and tense atmosphere worse, when ever a lantern lingered too long hope and relief ran through the two but when it moved on with no call outs that feeling quickly vanished. Killer slowly moves his hand closer to Kids linking a finger with one of his captains who quickly grabs his hand holding it tight "We'll fine them all" Kid whispers mainly to himself but Killer nods stepping a little closer while squeezing his captains hand "They'll be fine" The first mate whispers back knowing Kid is worried about the crew but mainly you, the two don't like to show favorites but your their partner, their lover, it breaks their heart thinking of you hurt or gods forbid dead in the water.

Heat stands by the railing near the ladder waiting for the crew to find someone, anyone, guilt runs through him since he should have been on that ship with them. Wire tried to comfort his friend, but he knows until they found you and the others that guilt wouldn't be going away. A few boats soon head back bring them some hope but as they get closer its clear mainly by House's face that something was very wrong. House is your best friend on the ship and the doctor so for her normally cheerful face to be lifeless made them think the worst. Heat and Wire help them up onto the ship as Kid and Killer make their way over stopping as House looks down at the deck with a sigh "I'm sorry captain we didn't find anyone" Her hands clench into fists at her side as Hip walks over placing her hand on the doctors shoulder in comfort. "A few of us managed to check some of the inside but there are only dead marines" Hip continues for House who starting to shake a little trying not to cry in front of everyone. Killer grits his teeth feeling a crushing weight press against his chest, he didn't want his mind to wonder but it did, were you further inside the now sunken ship where they couldn't get too? Or where you at the bottom of the ocean? Kid looks down at the two girls unsure of how to react to the news, he was beyond angry but not at them, his crew did a good job, but he's also upset and frustrated the feeling of wanting to scream and break something consumed him. After a while of silence and Kid's glare out at sea getting more and more angry Wire ushers the crew who are still on the deck away from the situation.

Heat refuses to go though instead he walks up to his two longest and oldest friends "I-I'm sorry… I should have been on that ship with them. She told me to leave but i should have forced them all to come with me… I'm so sorry" Heat pants a little while gripping his arm tight, he's never felt this way before, guilt is something a pirate shouldn't feel but at the moment thats all he could feel. Kid sighs knowing his friend isn't at fault for this, no one thought that the marines would fire at their own ship knowing their men were still on it "I don't blame you" Kid suddenly states before turning and storming off, his boots heavy and loud on the deck as he tries to control his anger and hurt. Killer lets out a breath trying to clam himself down, he places a hand on Heats shoulder giving him a simple nod that tells him that its not his fault before running after his captain. Kid kicks open any door in his way as he heads to the bedroom, his mind fixed on one thing as Killer catches up to him trying to calm the red head down, hoping he wouldn't put holes in anymore walls or doors. "Kid, i know your angry, i am too but i'm sure she's out there" Killer tries to calm Kid but the captain ignores him while kicking open the door to their bedroom, luckily the hinges didn't break this time so Killer closes the door behind them knowing it will give them both the privacy they need at the moment. Heading straight for a chest of draws Kid looks over the small wooden box sitting on top of it, but he couldn't bring himself to open it.

The box contains three Vivre cards, Yours, Kid's and Killers, but he was scared that when he opened it there would only be two along with a pile of ash where yours should be. Killer sighs taking off his mask and placing it on the bed before walking over and placing a hand on his lovers shoulder "She's alive, i know it, we'll find her" The first mate moves his hand down to hold Kid's hand. The captain turns his head now seeing the face of the man he loves, it helps calm him a bit, but he still can't bring himself to open the box. Killer knows the man too well some times, so he squeezes Kids hand while the other moved to the box, unlatching it he can't help but hold his breath before opening the box. Relief flowed through the two as their eyes landed on your card, it was slightly burned at the edges but it was there which means your alive. They knew your hurt but the corners have stopped burning away which means you or someone has managed to patch you up as much as possible. The two let out a breath as Kid goes to picks up your card only for it to move slightly to the side, raising an eyebrow the captain looks to the window that the card was moving towards, it was just open sea. Killer picks up the card lightly feeling it with his fingers as it twitches in his hand trying to move in the direction you are "Either she's drifting out to sea or the marines have her" Killer sighs either way it was bad but at least now they have a way of finding you "If the marines have her then they most likely have the others too" Kid sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose while letting go of Killer and heading to the door, he places his hand on the handle but doesn't open it instead waiting for his partner to put his mask back on and join him "We'll set sail and follow the Vivre card" Kid states as Killer nods walking over to the door while fixing his mask into place.

----- You, Bubblegum, Boogie, Gig and Emma -----

Boogie breaks the surface of the water taking in a deep breath for air as he lifts you up out of the water, Gig reaches out helping to drag your uncontuse and bleeding body into the large slab of wood that was once part of the marine ship. Unfortunately for the group it was currently floating out to sea, the Victoria punk hardly visible from how far out they all are, the rippling waves forcing them further and further out to sea. "Shit, what do we do?" Emma asks as she leans over your body unsure of where to put her hands, Your head was bleeding badly but the gash on your shoulder was also oozing blood. "Stop sitting around and put pressure on something" Boogie yells as he gets onto the board of wood before crawling over and placing his large hands on your shoulder. Emma nods and places her hands on the top of your head trying to feel where the blood is coming from with slightly shaking hands. Gig nods at the orders starting to look over your burned legs, he may not be a doctor, but he knows better than to touch the burns in case they get infected, so he looks over your torso seeing blood and pieces of glass and wood sticking into your skin. "We need to get her to House" Gig gulps unsure how to help since the only doctor is on the Victoria Punk which is getting further and further away. Before anyone can answer or do anything a cannon ball lands next to them in the water the three shielding themselves while also trying not to fall off the slab of wood as the water ripples on one side almost toppling over.

A small marine ship glides through the water behind them soon coming to a halt as the cannons are aimed at them along with guns that several marines are holding "Your under arrest, put your hands up, and we won't kill you" A marine in a white coat steps closer yelling at the group bellow him, Gig growls while gripping his fists but the three are way out numbered and hurt with hardly any weapons so Boogie clears his throat while keeping pressure on your shoulder "Fine, we surrender" Emma and Gig turn to look at him in shock but the man sighs and looks down knowing they have no chose, Their Captain was too far away, you were injured and the three were just floating out to sea, they had no where to go. It was their best option, at least they would all get medical treatment and a place to rest, Their crew will come after them so there was no need to worry, Kid will set them all free soon. The Marines cuffed everyone before dragging you all onto the ship, forcing everyone who's awake onto their knees. The white coated marine looks the group over before sighing and turning his back "Take them to the cells" He waves his hand while walking away, Emma's eyes widen at his words "Hay wait aren't we going to get medical treatment… Our friends hurt" She calls out while struggling against the marine who's holding her cuffed hands behind her back, the white coated marine stops in his tracks and laughs throwing his head back while holding his stomach "Why would i help a bunch of pirates?" He asks before walking again some of the other marines laughing along with him.

Boogie growls kicking at one of the marines trying to force them to let him got, but they punch him in the face as the others are dragged off bellow deck to where the cells are. The four are thrown into a dark cell only lite by a single candle hung up high on the metal wall, the cell door closes and locks before the marines give them a smile and walk away. "Bastards get back here" Gig yells after them struggling to get to his feet with his injured leg and hands behind his back. "Guys?" A familiar voice calls out in happiness, Bubblegum steps out from the darkness his hands cuffed in front of him unlike the others, he was hurt a bit but has a reveled smile on his face. "Bubblegum, your ok" The three yell as the tall blue haired man runs over to them only for his smile to drop at seeing your body still bleeding on the floor "Oh shit" He states as the others sigh letting him over to you and kneel down to inspect your wounds. "Their refusing to treat any of our wounds.. what do we do?" Gig asks as he sits with his back to you his hands trying to hold pressure on your shoulder, but he couldn't tell if they were in the right place or not. Bubblegum adjusted his hands for him helping Gig put pressure on the right place before looking around the room trying to think of what they can use to help you out. "The blanket and candle, we can use the blanket to stuff the wound and then the wax over the top to hopefully seal it… Boogie hoist me up" The blue haired man walks over to the metal wall with his crew mate who kneels down letting the blue haired man sit on his shoulders.

It was a struggle to get the candle Bubblegum trying to balance as the ship slight sways but with their combined heights it wasn't long until Bubblegum grabbed the candle and pulled it out of its holder. The flame would be a better idea to use on your wound but the wick was short and it was their only sauce of light, if your blood got on the wick it would put the flame out, and they would be screwed. Emma runs over and grabs the blanket in the corner, it was thin and short, it would be batter as a pillow cover than a blanket but it'll have to do. Rushing over to you, Bubblegum gets to work, stuffing the blanket into your shoulder wound that Gig lets go of once he's told too. It hurt seeing you not move in any way, normally people would flinch or groan in pain but you were silent and unmoving while the blanket is stuffed into your shoulder, just like they though the blanket didn't do much to stop the bleeding which is why the candle came in handy. The others watch as Bubblegum lets the melted wax land on your shoulder wound coating the blanket and stopping the blood from seeping through, it will hopefully cause enough pressure to build stopping the bleeding all together but it'll take a bit of time. "What about her head?" Gig asks as he watches your shoulder stop leaking blood but your head was still bleeding, Bubblegum puts what's left of the candle down and starts looking through your blood soaked hair seeing a thick cut going from your forehead to the middle of your head, what ever hit you split the skin and may have busted your skull.

He thinks for a second before pulling his shirt off and ripping it to wrap around your head hoping it will stop the bleeding, he didn't want to put wax on the wound if there was a chance it might touch your brain. "I-i don't know, this will have to do for now" He sighs but Boogie leans over bumping the mans shoulder with a small smile "You did great for not being a doctor" The two let out a small laugh trying to cheer themselves up in this awful situation. "I'll take a look at the rest of you now, ok?" Bubblegum asks looking over his bruised and cut up friends who nod at him letting him do what he needs to, Boogie and Gig end up having to take their shirts off ripping them apart to help stop some bleeding, once done the four take a breather and relax for a bit, there was worry in the air but all of them had faith that their crew would come for them. "Where do you think their taking us?" Emma asks as she looks out the bars of the cell and into the dark hallway trying to make out what's around them, Gig shrugs as Boogie sighs "I don't know but i don't think it matters" The three raise an eyebrow at their crew mate wondering what thats supposed to mean, Boogie lets out a small laugh while leaning his head back against the wall "The captain as Y/N Vivre card, so they'll find us" The others relax knowing he's right, their captain will find them and get them out of here.

[bloodblanks]

the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — chapter i.

As the daughter of a moderately wealthy businessman, you lived a comfortable but solitary life. You never thought to leave your peaceful refuge, not until one of your father’s associates—who was also your only friend—made an unexpectedly tempting offer.

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Power presents itself in many different forms. Most often, those with power are thought to possess strength, intelligence, wealth, or status. However, you were not exceptionally talented in any of the above. Instead, you found yourself gifted with something much less conventional—charisma.

—

“Pantalone!” You opened the door, beaming at the raven haired man who stood before you. “Lovely seeing you here today.” You stepped back and held the door for him.

“Y/N,” Pantalone returned the smile, thick eyelashes fluttering as his eyes crinkled with joy. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He walked inside before pausing, waiting for you to push the dense mahogany door into place, making sure it locked shut. Your home was in a rather secluded location where few people passed by—much less dare intrude. Secrecy was invaluable to all of your father’s guests.

“Unfortunately,” you began, “my father is running late today, which I apologize for. But please do come in and make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

Your father was a busy man with a full schedule, one he went out of his way to readjust for the impromptu meeting request. It would have been unreasonable to expect perfect punctuality, and the apology wasn’t necessary.

Still, you had one job, and it was to be nice.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Pantalone replied. “Your generous hospitality more than compensates for it.”

While being cordial was more of a chore with the often unpleasant and impatient businessmen your father associated with, you found Pantalone’s company an effortless task.

You weren’t sure of the exact reasons behind it, but your home was often used as a place for meetings and negotiations relating to your father’s work. You weren’t present for the discussions themselves, but you did greet and welcome every guest—something your dad was not fond of doing himself.

For someone who worked a job where conversation was important, talking was not one of your father’s strengths. Though he managed just fine when it came to business, small talk and pleasantries were burdensome activities for him, which is why you handled them instead.

It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed talking about the weather which never deviated from cold, or listening to middle aged men complain about joint pain, but you disliked it significantly less than your dad did. If anything, you had a tendency to avoid matters of actual significance, preferring your meaningless exchanges over accountability.

Pantalone was just another one of your father’s many associates, but he visibly stood out from the rest. You didn’t know much about them, but you were confident that everyone you’ve greeted was in some way or another, a powerful dignitary.

But they were no Harbinger.

That fact alone was enough to separate Pantalone from every other person you’ve ever interacted with throughout your approximately two decades of lifespan. You didn’t know for sure, but you knew well enough that his wealth and power surpassed that of all your father’s clientele combined.

But that wasn’t what truly made him different.

Pantalone was a striking contrast to your father’s other associate; not just because he was a Harbinger, but rather he was the sole person you could consider a friend.

You hadn’t bothered making new friends after moving to Snezhnaya. There wasn’t any particular reason for it. Although confidentiality could qualify, you found yourself either occupied with your own hobbies or keeping your father company when he was actually home and not busy with work. Anything you desired was delivered directly to your residence, so you had no need to venture into the city and make small talk with the shopkeepers.

This meant your interactions were limited to your father and his associates, all of whom were as pruned and grey as him. The only exception was Pantalone, and though you didn’t know exactly how old he was—it would be rude to ask—he didn’t seem significantly older than you, both in appearance and mannerisms. At the very least, he didn’t possess the wrinkles and bitterness the others did.

At some point, you began looking forward to your interactions, which both preceded and succeeded Pantalone’s business meetings with your dad. While you still maintained an air of professionalism with you, your amity went beyond mere pleasantries.

As you led him down the wide hallways and cavernous rooms, you couldn’t help but ask the question that had been nagging at you since yesterday.

“Pantalone,” you broke the silence, “may I ask a question?”

“Of course, dear,” he replied.

“Today’s a Monday,” you stated, “and you were just here last Tuesday.” For as long as you remembered, Pantalone had a very specific schedule. Once every other week, every Tuesday, he’d visit. As far as you knew, never had he strayed from that schedule—not until now.

“Ah, as observant as ever, Y/N,” Pantalone remarked.

“And on such short notice too...” you continued, letting your words trail off before asking him directly, “Is something the matter?”

You stopped in front of your father’s study, turning the doorknob and allowing Pantalone in, before you let the door leisurely shut on its own behind you both.

“Oh, no, not at all. It’s just that business can be unpredictable at times—I’m sure you understand.” His tone was as carefree and relaxed as ever, but you were certain this was no trivial matter. However, it wasn’t your business, so you set aside your curiosity and didn’t push any further.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “I was just a bit worried that something was up. I’m glad to hear that everything’s fine.”

‘Worried’ was an exaggeration. While you did care about Pantalone, you had no reason to fret over his well being. It was unlikely that anyone or anything could pose a serious threat to him, ever—he was a Harbinger. Perhaps it was disingenuous for you to feign concern, but you thought it was a polite sentiment regardless.

All of your dad’s meetings, with all of his associates, were held in this room. It was furnished with this intent in mind; a well-lit room with a coffee table flanked by two sofas near the centre, encircled by a desk, a few china cabinets, and most importantly, a kitchenette.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Y/N.” A teasing remark, as you should have expected. You watched as Pantalone sat down on the sofa with a smirk.

“Do I seem that heartless to you?” you prodded back.

“Quite the opposite. If anything, you have too much heart.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly, Pantalone’s reply catching you off guard—you didn’t expect him to answer so sincerely.

Despite your familiarity with conversation and flattery, you were usually the one to give compliments, not receive them.

“You’re flattering me. I’m not doing anything special,” you brushed it off awkwardly. You quickly turned towards the kitchenette to escape the topic. “Earl grey tea with cream and two sugar cubes?”

“Why, I’m flattered that you remember how I take my tea,” Pantalone said. You filled the kettle, waiting for the water to boil as you took out a teacup and saucer from the cabinet above you, along with tea leaves and an infuser. You opened the refrigerator beside you, retrieving a glass bottle of cream.

You weren’t sure how or when exactly it started, but you always had a fondness for tea. The shrubs themselves, the processing of the leaves, the plethora of varieties and tastes, the simple act of brewing tea—you adored it all. When you still lived in Fontaine, where the weather was warmer and vegetation was abundant, you would often tend to your imported Chenyu shrubs and curate the leaves yourself; something Snezhnaya’s harsh, frigid climate didn’t allow for.

Though you missed the extensiveness of your tea hobby in Fontaine, you found other ways to keep yourself occupied. The time you would have otherwise spent on picking leaves was now dedicated to baking. It was something your mother taught you from an early age, a craft you now spent time perfecting. After all, freshly baked goods were a perfect accompaniment to tea, and your father’s clients appreciated the assortment of delicacies.

It was an excuse to bake batches of pastries that you otherwise wouldn’t be able to finish if anything, but it was something everyone was happy with. The guests enjoyed your confectioneries, your father evaded vapid chit chat, and you baked to your heart’s content.

“I’ve made you tea every other week, ever since we’ve moved here,” you pointed out. “So about two and a half years. It’d be awfully rude if I didn’t remember your preferences by now.”

You earned a soft chuckle from Pantalone.

“Well, now I’m curious. What else do you remember about me?” he asked, the question making you gulp.

You did not have a good memory, and you were especially uncomfortable with being put on the spot, your brain oftentimes turning blank, forcing you to blurt out any nonsense to try and salvage whatever situation you were being put in. You tried to think of something to say so it wouldn’t be obvious that you couldn’t recall; that would be rude.

“Only your darkest secrets.” You fumbled with placing the dried leaves in the infuser.

“So you know her name then?” he interrogated, and of course you didn’t.

“Of course,” you declared with utmost confidence. “Full name, date of birth, medical records, everything.” You knew you were just digging yourself a deeper pit, but you had just poured the water and the tea wasn’t done steeping yet.

“And what about her death certificate?” he continued. You stirred the tea rapidly, pouring in just the right amount of cream alongside two sugar cubes, before picking it up and serving it with the plate of madeleines you had baked earlier.

“That’s included in the medical records.” You placed the tea down on the coffee table a bit too hard. You made sure to place the plate down more gently, as if to absolve yourself of embarrassment. “Here’s your tea. And of course, some madeleines I baked this morning.”

You sat down on the sofa across from him, awaiting his expression as he brought the teacup to his lips, sipping the beverage with elegance.

“It appears you really are as observant as ever,” he smiled with visible satisfaction.

“I’m observant when people are interesting,” you noted, relieved that the conversation had finally shifted.

“Is that so?” Pantalone put down the teacup. “Y/N, what about me do you find interesting?”

There were a plethora of things you found interesting about him, and you wondered if some of them would be too intrusive or direct to point out given his status, but promptly discarded the consideration.

“Well, for starters,” you said, “you’re a Harbinger.”

“Oh my,” Pantalone spoke with feigned surprise. “I nearly forgot!” He reached towards the plate, picking up one of your madeleines and taking a bite. You watched his face hungrily for validation, awaiting his judgement of your madeleines. Even though your confectioneries were never worse than satisfactory, you often liked to try new variations or entirely different recipes, taking note of any feedback from guests to further improve your skills.

“Wonderful baking as always, Y/N.” Pantalone’s words seemed to align with the pleased expression on his face, and you couldn’t help but grin, feeling proud of yourself.

“You know,” Pantalone started, bringing your attention back to the conversation, “such status can be quite cumbersome. People behave rather differently around you. It becomes hard to tell when such pleasantries and favours are coming from a place of genuine kindness, or somewhere else.”

The atmosphere suddenly dropped to a more solemn tone, startling you.

“Be that as it may, I’ve always felt at ease in your company. Contrary to popular opinion... us Harbingers aren’t all that different from everyone else, and I feel refreshingly ordinary in your presence.”

You listened to him attentively, musing over his sentences in your head to carefully formulate a response.

“Refreshingly ordinary...” you muttered. “I didn’t expect to hear that. If anything, you’re quite special to me. Regardless, I’m happy to hear that I’ve been pleasant company for you. The feeling is mutual.”

You finished speaking, a wistful smile on your face as you glanced downwards, the focus slipping from your gaze. While you and Pantalone had many conversations over the years, they primarily consisted of playful banter and idle chatter. Rarely would you be as pensive as you were now, and while sentimentality usually made you uncomfortable, you found yourself not minding it right now. Perhaps you were more lonely than you had originally considered, but you realized your words held more truth than expected.

Pantalone was someone special to you. There used to be others, too. When you still lived in Fontaine, you had close friends; people you deeply valued and cared for. But distance does not make the heart grow fonder. Distance simply meant the space between, and the space from Snezhnaya to Fontaine would parallel the growing disconnect between you and the ones you used to hold dear.

Everything in Teyvat had a limit to its elasticity, tangible or not. Things can only be stretched so far before the tension eventually causes it to sever. Emotional connection was no exception to that. Despite your agreements to continue writing one another and keep in contact, eventually the letters became fewer and longer between. The last time you had received a letter was about seven months ago.

People separate. People move on. It was only natural, and you had come to accept it. You had no idea what your former friends were doing now, but you were probably nothing more than a passing thought in their heads every once in a blue moon.

You didn’t often reminisce about them, either. But when you did, you would naturally ponder the idea of making new friends. Even though it would be wise to make an effort, you didn’t want to. Meeting new people, getting to know them, becoming as close to them as you were with your former friends—it was exhausting just to think about. You didn’t want to bother yourself with something so tedious.

But since Pantalone had been routinely visiting for the past few years, your attachment to him inevitably grew without you even realizing it.

Your rumination was interrupted by the sound of heavy, pounding footsteps rapidly approaching.

“Oh,” you said, “it seems like my father’s—”

“—Oh, Lord Pantalone, please forgive the delay!” The door flung wide open, your father rushing into the room. “Such tardiness in the face of a Harbinger is unacceptable and—”

“—Please, it’s all right, F/N,” Pantalone tried to calm your very much frantic father. “I was enjoying a lovely conversation over tea with your daughter just now and—”

“—No, no, no! This will not do!” your father declared. “You must be impossibly busy with work! We should discuss business as soon as possible—Y/N, you may take your leave now while we discuss urgent matters!”

You were halfway through getting up when Pantalone spoke.

“Well, actually, F/N, the reason I requested this meeting was because I wanted to speak with you regarding your daughter.”

What?

Your head snapped towards Pantalone, the rest of your body still frozen in an awkward motion between standing and sitting, your eyes wide with shock and mild horror.

You weren’t sure if you had heard him right or not. But judging by the similarly surprised look on your dad’s face, you likely heard him correctly.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t ever thought of Pantalone as attractive. His elegantly styled black hair was smooth and silky—or at least it appeared so, you never ran your fingers through it—and his skin was radiant, fair as porcelain, his amethyst irises embellished with full sets of ebony lashes, sitting behind intricate silver glasses that framed his gracefully poised face just right.

However, you had never thought of anything beyond that. Not only were you unsure about how old he was—he could be twice your age, for Archons’s sakes—he was also your dad’s business associate, and you weren’t sure how your dad would feel about that, though you supposed you’d find out soon.

“Uh,” your dad stumbled over his own words, “Lord Pantalone... are you sure you want to, uh, discuss such matters with Y/N present?”

“Why, of course, F/N,” Pantalone replied, completely nonchalant. Your eyes darted between him and your father, the two of them wearing completely opposite expressions.

“Uhh,” your dad gibbered awkwardly, “are you sure you want to discuss such matters with me present?” You could see that he, too, was looking back and forth at the both of you in a futile attempt to grasp the situation. He was presumably contemplating the prospect of anything having happened between the two of you. The thought alone was enough to fluster you, and you were just thinking of how to explain that no, you were not and had not been sleeping with his business partner, when Pantalone spoke again.

“Oh, Archons, no, it’s nothing like that, please don’t misunderstand!” he exclaimed, his statement sending you into a brand new state of confusion. “I merely want your daughter to spy on Dottore.”

“I’m sorry, what?” you interjected, evident disbelief in your voice. You didn’t need to look at your dad to know he was even more disturbed than you, considering how he was at a loss for words.

“You see, it has recently come to my attention that Dottore is plotting something rather unfavourable to the Tsaritsa,” Pantalone elaborated, though you weren’t sure whether his explanation was helping or worsening the situation. “As a Harbinger, it is my duty to ensure her safety, and as Dottore’s closest associate, I’m in a most advantageous position to do so. Alas, I am but one man, so some assistance would be incredibly helpful.”

While the initial misconception was already difficult to process, the clarification was even more incomprehensible. You were stunned, unable to formulate any coherent thoughts until your dad managed to snap out of his stupor.

“You want my daughter to spy on Il Dottore? Forgive me, Lord Pantalone, but are you daft? How the hell is she supposed to do that? She is a child!” Despite its irrelevance to the situation, you couldn’t help a spark of irritation rising up at his words. You scowled, but put your annoyance aside for now, for there were more pressing matters at hand. Your father was becoming agitated, so you made an attempt to assuage the tension.

“...It’s fine,” you said, straightening up as you turned towards the Harbinger. “Pantalone, could you please elaborate?”

“Well, you see, I need someone whom I know and trust, that Dottore doesn’t know, but can come to trust,” he asserted. “I need someone new, unassuming, but not entirely unfamiliar. Someone who can keep a secret and find a secret. Who better than the daughter of the magnificent F/N?”

From an outside perspective, it was easy to make the assumption that you were knowingly assisting your father in keeping his clandestine activities concealed. Most people likely thought that, but it’d be incorrect.

Truthfully, your role in your father’s work was limited to greeting associates and serving them tea, along with any freshly baked goods you had made. Of course, you knew that your father wasn’t the most noble of men, considering his clientele—the Harbinger on your sofa being a perfect example—but that was the extent of your knowledge, and you preferred to keep it that way. You knew it made you apathetically recreant, but it was much easier to stay unaware and turn a blind eye to his questionable doings. You would keep yourself uninvolved in his business, hiding under your security blanket of willful ignorance.

The exact shelter that Pantalone was trying to coax you out of.

“Well, okay, sure, but—” your dad tried to protest.

“—And as a token of my gratitude,” Pantalone furthered,

“I would bring M/N back to life.”

next chapter soon... any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

how does blanche pay his bills 😔😔

no fr tho where does this guy earn money ??

Tw: gore, violence

Despite having a mostly vegetarian diet, Blanche is scarily good at butchering animals, especially mammals. He knows where all the joints are, the right places to cut, and the correct technique to extract all the pieces whole. You thought that he obtained his skills from eating his chickens, but he would rather let them die from natural causes than slaughter them himself. It was rather strange to see him opening up a bag of store-bought raw chicken whenever you told him you were craving for some, while you knew he owns a coop full of those noisy fuckers a few minutes walk away.

He has no qualms about killing and butchering rabbits if you're craving for them. Blanche sees them as pests, munching on his precious lettuces and cabbages, it is scary how he has no hesitation while impaling those fuzzy little creatures with a kitchen knife. You wouldn't know this fact without having a suitable personality for it; as in, you will have to be cold and uncaring towards cute critters in general. If you have a big heart and a tendency to cry when living beings are hurt, you wouldn't know Blanche is a bunny killer.

Similarly, if your humanity is still intact, you wouldn't know that he is a serial killer and an organ harvester. The victims that he didn't beat into a bloody pulp are cut up into individual pieces and have their organs prepared and preserved in wet ice. Blanche's knowledge isn't only localized to creative endeavors or gardening, he also has a deep reservoir containing all things biology. Especially humans. He also has a good grasp of the value of organs in the black market, negotiating with his usually desperate or depraved customers to give him the highest payout possible.

How he sells them is interesting to learn; he would sell them through the internet. Blanche is well-versed with this shiny new modern toy enough to evade authorities for decades. Those who tried to trick him and lure Blanche into a trap were turned into piles of fresh organs for him to sell. And there is no shortage of those idiots who tried to best Blanche at his own game. Well, it isn't really a game, all he wanted was to make some extra cash for him to spend on you. He isn't in it for the power, notoriety, or anything.

Back then, he would have done his business through word of mouth, or even through phone calls. Getting a solid customer base was much harder but easier to hide from the law since Blanche had a lot more experience in pre-internet days. But he has enough luck and skill to become famous yet undetectable in cyberspace.

He understands his market very well. The majority of his sales come from patients who are willing to do anything it takes to get that transplant, but there is a handful who buy them for personal consumption. Blanche would sell organs that aren't as fresh or somewhat diseased to the former, as they're desperate enough to take almost anything. Cannibals would normally demand the best quality, Blanche isn't one to complain. They have the funds to afford them.

All this while you thought he earned his money through back-breaking hard work from his youth. You asked him what he did for a living back then, he described a life with no fun, only becoming a slave to his numerous employers, doing jobs that are as menial as paperwork, or as life-threatening as hacking a tree with a blunt axe until it falls. It made sense how he has this much money until now, it sounded like he doesn't even go home to sleep, eat or sleep. He does that at whatever workplace he was in at the time.

While there are some truths to that, he cannot deny that his organ harvesting business was what bought him the comfortable and romantic lifestyle he could only dream of achieving in his early years. He wasted away years being tormented by constant work, but that wasn't what allowed him to garden, knit and bake freely to his heart's content. Blanche's horrific crimes did.

[jade-len]

no but seriously though, let's say that you've never read svsss and proceeded to transmigrate into pidw as either sqq or one of bunhe's random npc shixiong/shijie. is there anything you guys would've done different from sy?

personally, if i knew that bunhe was going to literally become the embodiment of toxic masculinity, a dictator who collects women as if they were some coins, and a man who's overall just the product of the abuse cycle... i would try my damn hardest to prevent any of that lol.

but, for me, i would not promote a harem or bingge's fucked way of thinking. even if i just transmigrated as some other disciple, there would be absolutely no way i would let bunhe turn into bingge (also because.. why would i let the entire sect continue to abuse him). and, probably not even really bingmei as well? i don't know, i would obviously still protect and befriend him, but i think i'd be much more stricter about teaching bingbing morals, good ethics, mental health, all that jazz.

like, we live in a time where we actually know better about that stuff! might as well pass down our 20th century knowledge, y'know? i know sqq loves binghe the way he is, but if i read pidw i would most definitely not like bingge's character due to airplane's wack writing

(cut under is just me rambling lol)

but if i were to transmigrate as sqq... honestly, it would go two ways for me. genuinely, i think (after the ooc function) i'd just run away from the sect and take on a completely new appearance using magic airplane plant bullshit, find binghe (because i know damn well the abuse wouldn't just stop there.. also because the system will probably still demand for me to be some sort of mentor), then be like that one cool teacher or older brother figure? i'd definitely be more of that instead of a proper shizun. idk, i'd just treat binghe as if he were my little brother

or, since binghe is still bunhe and thus hasn't darkened at all, i would maybe pull him to the side and say that i'm actually not his shizun. probably claim that the real sqq hated teaching (which was why he abused binghe) and kids, so he made a doppelgänger (me) to replace him as he goes to buttfuck anywhere else from here. since i would know of luo binghe's loyalty at least from never having read svsss, i'd tell him to respect sqq's wishes

this is so that binghe would at least know that i'm not shen qingqiu. because remember, in this alternate timeline i only know pidw instead and don't know if binghe would forgive sqq for all the abuse he suffered, so don't blame me for going that route! again, i know that the system would still probably require me to be his mentor for the abyss arc, so i'd have to still stay as bingbing pretty much gets an entirely new person as his shizun. but hey, would he complain? i don't abuse kids and thus won't ever hurt him. plus, i don't think i'd be able to constantly put on a mask and pretend to be sqq, the least i could do is have luo binghe know the "truth"?

look i know that that probably breaks the system's rules, BUT remember, you can negotiate with the system. "well, i'm not revealing my identity as a transmigrator or the system? i'm technically still 'shen qingqiu', im supposed to be a doppelgänger, a copy! remember? so i'm technically him." also, i don't remember any rules about running away and such for the new identity plan, just that binghe still needs a mentor to push him off. i feel like with enough negotiation, i would be able to do this (also yes i know that i wouldn't know about the system not being strict, but i feel like i would figure it out pretty quickly, considering that i bitch a bit and will find a way to back up my argument if I'm really insistent)

speaking about the endless abyss!! yeah no i don't think i would be able to push him off. i think i'd make it abundantly clear that i don't want to, but i'm cursed to "fulfill" a prophecy or something.. either through a bunch of metaphors and stories. or, since system never said i had to full on betray him, just that he needed to be in there, i'd kinda just. tell him to jump and that there was nothing else i could teach him or something. i'll be waiting, bingbing!

and finally: what about if binghe fell in love? ...honestly don't know what i'd do with that. i feel like i'd be more gege material if anything since i'm not super different in age with bingbing, so i'd most likely see him as a friend or younger brother instead of a disciple (and i'd definitely treat him like one too. sorry, i just don't think i'd be able to take my job as a teacher or anything seriously, nonetheless actually teach teach. mentor-ish or bro figure, yeah i could do that. responsible teacher? okay, now you're asking for too much). so maybe? maybe not? i don't even know if i meet binghe's standards (which, admittedly, is kinda low but you get my point). i'd probably wanna kiss liu qingge though lol

[xelasrecords]

All That Glitters

Han Jumin x OC

Jumin Week 2024 - Day 3: Green Daylily (Romantic Love, “The Flower That Helps Forget Sorrows”) @juminweek2019

All that glitters is not gold. An arranged marriage brings out the worst in Aecha and Jumin, and witnessing him fall for someone he can’t have may just be her tipping point.

A/N: I’ve tried to break the cliché of a cheater being just bad in Wedge the Knife Under My Skin, now this is my shot at humanising the gold-digger stereotype. Jumin as perceived by a resentful wife trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want may not be the Jumin you know. I humbly ask you to withhold your judgement and see it from her eyes.

TW: self-harm

Words: 5.4k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Aecha thought she could do this. Jumin was hers, but he could not belong to her, could not, could not, could NOT!—

She was sometimes a simpleton but not a deranged young woman. Breathe in, then out. Slipped her hand beneath her metallic dress that parted at her leg and twisted the skin on her thigh.

She was good and entertaining and desirable.

Aecha parted the masses and conversations halted. Her beauty glimmered and cloistered the useless watchers. Not only known as someone’s wife, her position in her company was just as important in this event. Businesses relied on hers to function, so Aecha could seamlessly negotiate winning deals and blackball distasteful people as she saw fit.

She headed to her husband. Jumin raised his champagne at her and smiled. Only she could see how insincere the smile was.

He never liked her enough to bestow her any semblance of authenticity.

No, that was her. A solemn, porcelain-faced her.

Jumin stared at the back of the woman’s head when she turned to thank the waiter and Aecha nearly broke. His naked yearning was embarrassing and she felt the urge to apologise to anyone who caught him. When a bald man approached him, Aecha intercepted and went on about nice, irrelevant things like the doltish young lady she decided to be.

I’m sorry, my husband is occupied. Partner? What business partner? Come on, don’t be boring. Leave your work at the office and drink! Here, take mine.

He spun the champagne glass in his hand and drank where her lipstick had stained its rim.

Aecha giggled and covered her lips while looking down at the marble flooring. The violet lights were giving her a headache. Fucking gaudy. People these days liked to use flashing colours as a theme instead of acting like it was a proper formal event.

Was Jumin staring? Of course he was. And he was coming, Lord save her.

Jumin rounded his arm around her waist and kissed her head. It meant nothing and Aecha felt nothing. She used all her strength not to lean away when he ruined her sleek, freshly cut bob and embraced him. Over his shoulder, she did a quick sweep for another sighting of the woman, but she couldn’t find her.

That was how it started. At a gala dinner, a married businessman sought a reprieve through a fleeting conversation with a woman as small as an easily crushed bird. He was entranced ever since. His wife couldn’t blame him, for she was also a wraith in their marriage. A chasm was where she looked, and this might be her best plunge yet.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had been gripping his phone tightly. Whether he was waiting for her to text back or deciding to send the first text, Aecha couldn’t be arsed. She just wanted him to stop bothering her peace with his pacing.

She slammed her book shut. “Would you be so kind as to fucking sit down and overthink quietly?”

Jumin scowled at her, but Aecha didn’t bristle. Gone were the days when she had to be timid in front of him. Jumin was not as powerful as everyone thought. He couldn’t even break out of his marriage. “You complain when the house is too quiet, yet you berate me when I endeavour to make this space livelier. I can’t get anything right.”

Aecha crossed her legs and studied her glistening nails with a breezy disinterest. “The brunette looked like your taste.”

While they did have an agreement to be able to see other people as long as it was discreet, the reality of it rattled Aecha more than she liked to admit. It was not jealousy she felt. She hated that Jumin won in this game of misery, that he had found a raft to tide over his loneliness while she had to drown alone.

Jumin sighed. “I only conversed with her because she and I share a similar view on certain subjects.”

“Like wanting her mouth around your cock,” she said. “Did you manage to sneak off for a quick fuck in the closet?”

“You are dreadful when something is not to your liking.” Jumin’s face twisted in disgust. He was only this expressive when they were alone. All that wasted media training. His childhood tutor would be disappointed. “I apologise that you had to deal with unpleasant associates on my behalf, but it’s been a long day. Do postpone your vitriolic statements. No one has the patience to deal with your tantrums all the time, Aecha.”

She held her hands up in mock acquiescence. “I only have one request: do not fuck her in the master bedroom. Take the one downstairs if you’d like.”

Jumin seemed to be calculating something before he sat beside her and placed her book on his lap. “If I ever brought anyone home as you apparently wish, perhaps I should do it in the bedroom beside ours. You could take notes on being more delightful in bed.” He smiled, but it made him look all wrong. Too crude and cruel for his elegant countenance.

Aecha patted his cheek, hot derision burning against her chest. “It says more about your dirt-poor standard that you still want to sleep with me if you’re this dissatisfied.”

“You’re within reach.” Jumin shrugged. “But I assure you, that won’t happen anymore.”

The jab didn’t land as he expected. Aecha was well-acquainted with the extent of his obsession with a mere cat, so she shuddered to think of being on the receiving end as a person.

“You’re a boring fuck too, Han Jumin. I just had to make do with what I had.”

Jumin let out an audible scoff and Aecha seized her book. At least he had a good mind not to crease the pages.

*     *     *     *     *

Let bygones be bygones.

Their squabbles never lasted more than a few days, but still, sharing a bed with Jumin was ridiculous. Aecha didn’t know why they never separated despite the many available rooms in this penthouse. Perhaps sleeping with someone you loathed was better than no one at all.

The harsh glow from Jumin’s phone washed over his face as his fingers tentatively danced across the screen. His facial features were worth the applause, she had to admit. As beautiful as a forbidden painting, as empty as a forgotten memory. No wonder the brunette was drawn to him. Jumin was a mystery to be solved and opposition would only drive her further into his arms.

“I can’t sleep with your phone light,” protested Aecha.

“You can turn the other way,” Jumin replied without a glance at her. “Elizabeth the Third is sleeping soundly, see?”

The white cat, curled like a doughnut between them, peeked through her eyelids. Aecha stroked her fur and she purred, dozing off again. “Have you met her again?”

Jumin’s fingers froze while a new message popped up on his phone. How would that woman feel if she knew he was lying side by side with his wife as he flattered her? She must know about Aecha’s existence. Their wedding was highly publicised.

But Aecha couldn’t judge her for trying to hold on to a strand of flimsy hope. It happened to the worst of them. She hadn’t been strong enough to resist the temptation either.

“Yes.” The word scraped against Jumin’s throat. “Have you taken your melatonin?”

He was always trying to get rid of her. “I want to take more than the prescribed dosage,” she said.

“You wouldn’t want to relieve the experience of your stomach being pumped. Neither do I.” He pulled the duvet up Aecha’s neck and folded the corner into a neat rectangle. “So save us the medical trouble and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

“For you, maybe.” She suppressed her surprise that Jumin noticed her shivering. “You finally found a toy to distract yourself, but it’s hell for me every day.”

“You should have acclimatised yourself to this by now.” Jumin looked down at her with a pity that bordered on condescending. Aecha wanted to scratch it off his face.

She nodded at his phone and he turned the screen away. “You’re like a little kid with a candy dangled right above him,” she said, “but you’re too short, too powerless, to reach it.”

“She is a human being, not a candy or a toy. Get your facts straight.”

“You’re stupid for someone so smart.”

Jumin let out a long-suffering sigh. “Now who’s acting like a child?”

That was enough reaction. As long as Jumin was still useful, Aecha couldn’t annihilate him, but she could prick him with little poisons every day. She might have been sold off to him for the betterment of her father’s company, but she would not be delivered meek.

Aecha curled into a foetal position, eyes trained on him with resolve. It was self-flagellation to a degree; rage broiled inside her whenever she caught his genuine smile. She wanted, for once, to be on the receiving end of that smile. Jumin never seemed to enjoy his conversations with her, and she was always incensed or numbed by the end of them.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be loved by him per se. She thirsted for the acknowledgement that she was worth loving and capable of reserving romance despite everything that made her a monster. It offended her that Jumin never even tried to weigh her worth and turn this marriage into a real thing. One look at her and he detested her with the kind of resentment that didn’t fade with age.

Aecha knew that her sheer existence was a nuisance for Jumin. But if not her, who? Who else could save him from his mess? It wasn’t her fault that he didn’t put up a fight when Chairman Han trapped him into marrying her. C&R was suffering and Jumin was even more so. Aecha put the fire back inside Jumin when no one could. He had been a ghost of a person after his best friend disappeared. Now he was often irritated at her instead of walling off his emotions. Now he was someone to a nobody.

But affairs never ended well and Aecha was not planning to let go. She anticipated their doom with the giddiness of a child watching a car explode.

*     *     *     *     *

They were strolling in the sweltering heat, cloaked under the pretence of two lovers having a romantic date at the park. Aecha swerved when a teenager was cycling at them full force and pulled Jumin out of the way.

Posture was a good excuse to do something nice. Aecha didn’t want to forget how to be generous. That was a fitting practice.

Jumin thanked her and held her hand as they passed the glint of a camera behind the bushes. Aecha almost squirmed. Damp, sweaty hands were the bane of her existence. Jumin squeezed her hand in warning and she rolled her eyes.

“You never give me flowers when we’re having an outing,” Aecha said as they saw a man surprising another man with a bouquet. “Send me some if you want to maintain your image. We’ve come too far to generate false rumours about our divorce.”

“There are many ways to show affection without flowers.” Jumin’s attention was on a kid licking her ice lollies. “I wonder how the taste of that frozen stick differs from a gelato.”

“Artificial.”

Jumin turned to her in shock. “You have tried it?”

“I’m not as out of touch with commoners as you.” Aecha huffed. “The employees appreciate it more when you can understand their culture.”

“I shall take note of your practice.”

When Aecha caught a whiff of another bed of roses, she got annoyed that her mission was side-tracked. “Send me flowers, Jumin. Or is that something reserved for your side chick?” Aecha knew she was shattering their fragile peace, but she couldn’t help it. Her bitterness always came out before she could stop herself. “Her sad face is charming to lonely boys, I’ll give you that. Makes you want to save her, doesn’t it?”

Frustration flashed across Jumin’s expression, but he swallowed it. Jumin never lost his temper, not even when they were not being watched. If she was a cannonball, he was an impenetrable fortress. She couldn’t elicit an explosive reaction no matter how hard she tried.

It didn’t mean Aecha would stop trying though. One hole in the wall was all it needed to break him down.

“Keep her out of our date.” Jumin texted his assistant before slipping his phone into his pocket. “A bouquet will be delivered to the penthouse tomorrow. I expect it will be sufficient if you post it on your socials.”

“I thought we had a scheduled lunch with your father tomorrow.”

“I’ve called it off until further notice,” said Jumin. “I think we can both agree that none of us is eager to talk to him.”

“He’s not mad?”

“I’ve held up my bargain as a prized son. He’s already tied me to you. He should not expect anything more.” Jumin’s jaw was set. “Would you like to set our picnic here?” He gestured at the plain grass.

Aecha didn’t have an affinity for the great outdoors. Insects made her antsy and the sweat that dripped down her back and diluted her perfume were very far from her definition of a perfect date. The public demanded a lot of things from her.

She stood at the edge of the stone path as Jumin laid out the picnic rug. Knowing she had to play her part, Aecha cautiously knelt on the cloth and fished out the various pastries the chef had packed, arranging them neatly on the plates.

“Would you fetch a book for me?” Aecha asked as they dug into their croissants. “I’ve been eyeing the first edition of Anna Karenina, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

“You have a competent assistant. Utilise him.”

She didn’t know how, or why, but Jumin had a knack for making her feel small. She didn’t know what to expect from him or how far his niceties extended. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Jumin stared at her impassively, his tone bored. “Don’t pretend as if you loved me more than my money.”

The photographer was holding up his camera, so Aecha leaned forward and brushed off the crumbs from Jumin’s lips. “I never did.”

It was more complex than that, but he would never understand.

Aecha yelped when a tomato fell out of her croissant onto her skirt. She hated everything about today’s faux date. Jumin almost offered her a tissue, but he paused and shifted closer to remove the stain himself.

Aecha desperately wished this nearness made her heart thump. Their arrangement would’ve been so much easier if they could learn to fall in love with each other.

Aecha was a tortured wife, but she lived a fate worse than Anna Karenina’s. At least Anna found the will to break free and left all the wretchedness behind, but Aecha would never seize that chance.

She hated herself the most for it.

*     *     *     *     *

Well, there was a bouquet on her bedside table.

Supposed it was gorgeous. Supposed she didn’t know what these particular flowers meant because she never fell in love with a flower connoisseur who was always excited to teach her the language of flowers and never had to leave him for money. Supposed she never got tangled in her sister’s hospital debt and her father’s company wasn’t on the verge of bankruptcy.

She quashed the image of the man in her mind without mercy. It had been years ago, and she thought she might have loved him then. He was kind and loving and had no business of knowing what Aecha had become. A public figure on the news was all she had to be to him.

Aecha plucked out a stem from the bouquet. Green daylily. It should have been the romantic sort, but Aecha would not subscribe to its meaning of forgetting the pain from the past and present. She would hold on to the thorny memories. She wouldn’t have survived this marriage otherwise. Sometimes to stay alive meant to torture yourself with your kindest ghosts.

And how could she forget the very life she was living? Not a day went by without Jumin reminding Aecha what true sadness was. She wanted to be angry at Jumin’s assistant for getting the wrong flowers, but it was nobody’s fault, she knew. Her fury was really just loneliness was really just disappointment and guilt directed at herself.

Her choice brought her here. Her loyalty to her family cost her Jumin’s friendship and genuine love from someone, anyone.

Both of them would have suffered less in this marriage if they had been able to forge even the barest connection. Who, aside from Jumin, could understand her plight exactly? They were trapped in this together. They were supposed to turn to each other when hope eluded them. Jumin was as lonely as her, and no amount of wine and luxury for Elizabeth the Third could mask his emptiness from her.

They had never laughed together, Aecha realised, despair writhing in her gut. There were sarcastic chuckles and conceited smirks and plastic smiles, but never laughter that made them double over while clutching their stomachs. She hadn’t expected love to be on the table when she entered this marriage, but she had thought at least happiness could be within reach.

Aecha choked back a sob. She had turned her life over to Chairman Han and sentenced herself to a lifetime indenture. She couldn’t predict what she would do if her sister ever woke up. She wasn’t sure she would be happy with what Aecha had done.

But she didn’t need to approve of Aecha, she just needed to wake up.

Aecha captured a photo of the daylilies and posted it on her socials. Not a second later, comments of awe and support flooded her inbox.

Aecha was so lucky to have such a rich and loving husband. She received a surprise bouquet from a busy director while their husbands couldn’t even bother to take them out for dinner.

They had seen the pictures from her park date. How sweet, how romantic. Proof that if you were truly committed to your partner, you would carve out the time to be with them.

Aecha wanted to carve out her throat.

She turned off her phone, lay down and stared at the ceiling. She was so, so lucky.

*     *     *     *     *

“Why green daylilies?” Aecha asked as Jumin walked through the front door well into midnight. His black hair was dishevelled and his cufflinks were gone. She didn’t have to wonder where he had been. “I’ve never told you my preference.”

Jumin shot her a pointed glance. “Exactly.”

No surprise there. He didn’t bother remembering that she had a vase of irises in her study.

But Aecha was in a better mood tonight, so she decided to play nice. “They died on that same day, but I liked them when they were alive. Thank you.”

Without turning on the light in their walk-in closet, Jumin pulled off his tie and placed it on the island. Aecha noticed a lipstick smudge on the tie when she aligned it with the watch partition below the glass top. She imagined the other woman blindfolded and eagerly anticipated Jumin’s touch. A kiss here, a bite there.

What did it say about her character if the thought didn’t rankle her at all?

Aecha’s sex with Jumin was never adventurous. It was solely to satiate the thirst when they only had each other to turn to. They had agreed that searching outside their marriage was an awful waste of time and a gateway to a publicity nightmare.

“If you would like, I could arrange it with the florist so you’ll receive a bouquet each week.” Jumin was also nice today. A satisfying fuck could do that to someone.

“That’s not necessary.” Aecha shrugged. “How is she doing?” There was no hatred in her voice, only curiosity. She truly was baffled at how someone could enrapture Jumin so completely that he had been sparse in his appearance in his own house.

Jumin stiffened as though waiting for the next blow, and only slumped slightly when her jab didn’t come. “Nothing good can come out of this, you know that. She gains nothing and has everything to lose.”

“You also have a lot to lose,” Aecha said with a gentleness that sounded foreign to her ears. Strangely enough, she pitied the state they had put themselves in.

“I am hurting her.”

“You hurt a lot of people.”

“I know.” Jumin dipped his head, and it hit her that his exhaustion was more than a good fuck. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his shoulders appeared to be weighted down. He had also been like this in their first year of marriage.

“Does she make you happy?” Aecha asked.

“Yes.”

“Does that make you unhappy?” she asked again.

Jumin’s breath trembled as he exhaled. “Yes.”

Aecha glanced down at the ticking watches locked in the glass island, relentlessly marching forward without an end destination. “Then I feel sorry for you.”

Jumin shook his head. “Don’t be. You bear the most pain of them all.” He covered her hand with his and the diamonds on their wedding rings clinked. “Don’t presume I didn’t know the origin of your rage.”

Aecha’s hand balled into a fist. Jumin was giving her too much empathy and it felt like she was stripped to the flesh and forced to bleed before him. “Stop assuming accountability. Your knowledge won’t change anything. I chose to marry you for myself.”

“Right.” Jumin leaned against the island casually. “How’s your sister?”

Aecha looked away. The closet suddenly felt too dark and imposing. “You wouldn’t see me here if she had woken.”

“I can accompany you to the hospital on your next visit.”

She drew her hand out of his grasp. The moment was over. “No.”

Aecha had tried her best to separate her sister from this world. Her innocent, pliable little sister would be easily mangled by the vultures here. Aecha was the older one, so she should take all the knives thrown at her.

No one touched her sister. Not even her husband who was sometimes lucid enough to be nice.

Aecha grabbed a pair of fresh pyjamas on the way out and flung them at Jumin. He caught them with his face, which just meant that he had shit coordination. “Take a shower before you sleep,” she said. “You reek of her.”

*     *     *     *     *

“Jumin, did you see my toothbrush?” Aecha yelled from the bathroom.

“It must have been thrown away by the housekeeper!” Jumin shouted back.

“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled. A quick rummage through the cabinets presented no spare toothbrushes, so she wrapped a towel around her body and exited the bathroom. “Do you have any idea where she stocked it?”

Jumin was stroking a sleepy Elizabeth the Third on the bed, lying on his side. “I’m afraid not.”

Aecha put her hands on her hips. “How can you not know?”

“The last time I recalled, you’re also an occupant of this house.”

“Housekeeping is not my territory. You have a big brain, use it.”

“It’s not mine either.” Elizabeth the Third sneezed and Jumin chuckled with endearment. Aecha never got to be at the receiving end of that laugh. “And my brain is normal-sized. I just had a health check-up.”

“Then who should I ask?”

The answer came to Aecha right after she spoke. At the same time, they called out, “The butler.”

She scoffed and the side of Jumin’s mouth quirked up.

“I don’t have their number. I’ve never even seen their face,” Aecha said.

“Me neither. All forms of communication are made between Assistant Kang and them.”

“Care to help me find my toothbrush then?” Aecha asked impatiently. When Jumin didn’t budge, she re-entered the bathroom, dunked his toothbrush into the toilet bowl, and thrust it at him with a winning smile. “Look, you need a new toothbrush too. It travelled into the toilet on its own.”

Jumin’s eyes followed the water dripping down the toothbrush. “You just ruined a perfectly good cashmere rug.”

“It will be the next thing that travels into the toilet if you don’t move.”

Jumin levelled Aecha a glare that would’ve made everyone else cower, but she simply raised her brows. He grunted. “We can check the storage room.”

“Perfect.” She tossed the toothbrush into the bin and clapped her hands, then winced at the thought of splashing bacteria onto her skin. “Right after I wash my hands. Where is the storage room?”

“You have lived here for years, yet you still don’t know such a simple fact?”

Aecha shook her head with confidence.

“I don’t either.” Jumin kissed the top of Elizabeth the Third’s head and stood up. “Let’s find the mysterious room, shall we?”

*     *     *     *     *

It took them an embarrassingly long time to spot the storage room. In Aecha’s defence, it was located at the very end of the hall on the first floor where she had no reason to venture to. Jumin just thought she was always holed up in the library when she was not working. What was she supposed to do? Supervise the housekeepers around the clock? He could do it himself if he were so inclined.

To Aecha’s surprise, the room was remarkably tidy and spacious. She had been envisioning spider webs and broken bulbs; she should find the time to meet their house staff and thank them.

Aecha immediately scoured the room, pulling out drawers and opening boxes with determination. Jumin followed suit in a more curious fashion, flipping through files and looking into the washing carts with childlike fascination.

She paused. Jumin rarely showed this side of him to her. In fact, their recent exchanges had been bizarre. They fought, not banter.

What was happening to them?

“Did you get struck by lightning?” Aecha wondered aloud. “You’re easy to talk to these days.”

The scuffling from Jumin’s direction stopped and she turned around. “My—she suggested I treat you better, and she was right.” His smile was sad. “I have been cold to you even when you didn’t do anything wrong. My sincere apologies.”

He wasn’t standing far from her, but this was the farthest she felt from him.

Jumin couldn’t be told to do anything, barring this marriage. Jumin was obstinate and held a grudge towards women like her. Tolerating materialistic women was not in his nature, so the fact that he was changing merely because of—what, love?—was unacceptable. If he could change this much this fast, the woman could very well command him to do more drastic things.

“I didn’t know I was up for discussion. Doesn’t she hate me for being a hurdle to your eternal love?” Aecha couldn’t contain the bitterness in her tone.

“She understands this isn’t the ideal situation for any of us.”

“How saintly of her.” Aecha sneered. “What’s next? You promising her that this won’t be forever and asking her to wait as you find a way out?” She was picking at her nail bed with so much force that she felt a trickle of blood sliding down her thumb. When she wished for a disaster to befall Jumin and that woman, she didn’t mean to be the fallout. “Newsflash, you don’t get to divorce me. I will never accept it.”

Aecha’s hospital debt was building up at a rate that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with if it weren’t for Jumin, and the stability of her father’s companies relied on him.

She hated feeling powerless, but she had to do her part to save her family. It was the one thing she could do right in.

Jumin approached her with the caution of startling a feral cat. “I would never ask it of you,” he said. Another sentence spoken with kindness. Aecha loathed to hear it. “I’m aware of the consequences you would face.”

“Are you fucking with me? Drop the noble act,” she hissed. “She’s just one person. You don’t get to trade her for everything we’ve built. Our families wouldn’t cooperate if we split. Stocks will fall and the board will drive me out.”

Aecha knew she was far from being a favourite among the shareholders. The only reason they tolerated her was because of her relationship with Jumin. She couldn’t be seduced and tended to bulldoze over stupid, backward, outdated opinions. Her impressive performance didn’t matter when she couldn’t be moulded to their liking.

“I’m not going to divorce you. I also have my responsibilities.” Jumin massaged the crease between his eyebrows. “My end of the agreement requires me to stay with you to ensure the livelihood of our subsidiaries. I know what you will do if I attempt to leave. Your rage has no bounds. I won’t let you abuse your power and ruin innocent workers’ lives.”

Aecha was too hurt to react. She might be a headache to live with, but she was not evil. She wouldn’t put thousands of people out of their jobs because of her marriage issues. The media would hound her like wolves and she would lose people’s admiration. Love lost was almost always impossible to earn back.

But the fact that Jumin thought Aecha could do heinous things made her want to prove him right. It was too easy to latch onto fury and let it consume her. Why create a job crisis for strangers when she could strike at Jumin’s heart?

That woman was her final card. She wouldn’t hesitate to use it the moment he put her and her family in jeopardy.

“You’re wrong. I care about strangers,” Aecha said, her cheeks hot from restraining her anger.

“I have never seen that from you, Aecha.”

Jumin’s statement was so ridiculous that she had to laugh. “No, you just never see me.” She almost choked at the admission. “But that’s fine. You should keep an eye on that woman. You think you’re the only one with a hacker on your side? You already know what I’m capable of. What makes you so sure that I wouldn’t go berserk on her instead?”

Jumin came so close to her that she had to retreat until her elbow hit a cabinet. “Touch her and I won’t stand still,” he said in a low voice. “There’s only so much I can tolerate from you.”

Aecha’s tightened fists shook and she ignored the sting from the peeled skin. She looked up at him, holding back the urge to slam his forehead into the cabinet behind her. “She’s safe as long as my family and I are safe.”

Once upon a time, Jumin could have loved her, had she approached him with pure intentions. Their brief moments of camaraderie had proven it. But in this lifetime, Aecha had soured their relationship purely through the circumstance she entered Jumin’s life and he never forgave her for it.

Jumin scrutinised her for several seconds and she held his gaze without wavering. “Then we have reached an agreement.” He handed her a sealed package from his pocket. “Your toothbrush.”

Her blood smeared on the plastic as she snatched it from him.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had moved out of their bedroom into the guest room down the hall. They would see each other even rarer now.

Aecha cast a look around the library. Walls of books stretched up the ceiling with a sliding ladder docked on one side. She couldn’t remember when books ceased to give her lasting joy. She couldn’t remember the last time things didn’t hurt. She had caused this, she knew that.

Aecha rested her temple against the cold window and brought her knees to her chest. From her plush seat, she watched the gardener maintaining Jumin’s private garden, and there she noticed a small patch of green daylilies.

Jumin must have had them planted before they fought. She wondered if he would remove them from the premises soon.

Sometimes, Jumin was considerate. Sometimes, it almost made Aecha crumble.

She didn’t think her loneliness could amplify, but what had taken root in this penthouse was crawling up her limbs like vines, determined to crush her.

She wanted to stop fighting them.

But her sister. But her father.

Aecha gritted her teeth as she picked at the newly scabbed skin on her thumb. It broke open into a deeper wound. Fresher sting, freer blood.

Just one more day. Then another. Then another.

-

Footnotes:

Aecha always assumes the worst from Jumin, but I hope the subtle details were noticeable enough that this is still the Jumin we love, just trapped in his resentment of having to marry someone who’s blatantly after his money.

At the event, Aecha calls herself a simpleton because she threw herself into this marriage for her family despite her sense of self-preservation.

When Jumin squeezed Aecha’s hand in the park, it wasn’t a scolding. He was trying to signal “I’m here.”

It’s not mentioned in the fic, but Jumin personally picks out the daylilies for her, not his assistant. He doesn’t know she likes irises because he respects her privacy and never goes into her study.

Years of familiarity translate to them subconsciously caring for each other’s quirk without noticing: Jumin setting up the picnic because he knows kneeling on the grass squicks Aecha out, Aecha straightening Jumin’s tie on the rack because he doesn’t like things crooked...

The toothbrush scene isn’t just a comic relief. I wanted to show a domestic moment and what they could’ve had if they’d started on the right foot.

Aecha’s fingers are a small allusion to her downspiral. In the second scene, the fingernails glisten, but by the penultimate and last scenes, she makes them bleed.

Why an OC? Simple. Writer wrote about 2 women, writer backed herself into a corner because she had a hard time referring to who as who, main woman got a name and developed personality. Aecha means good daughter in Korean. I love dooming her from the start.

When I couldn’t decide whether to develop Aecha into a full villain or give her some redeeming qualities, my friend told me it’d be more interesting if she’s morally grey. That stuck with me. At the end, they’re just a married couple who are trying to survive this lifelong prison they’d put themselves in.

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[havendance]

Okay, I've read up to before the Night of the Owls crossover, so let's take a moment to look at my New 52 read so far:

Batman -- I think I liked the start of this arc the most, when it's laying out the mystery and feels full of potential. I'm just not a fan of the court of owls. The issue where he was in the labrinth and all the pages got flipped around was a cool concept, but an absolute pain to read digitally. Whenever I tried to rotate my tablet to read the textboxes, my device would go 'oh you're rotating! I know how to do that!' and flip the pages back -_- It probably worked better physically.

Batman and Robin -- I liked this. I liked seeing as Bruce tried to negotiate his relationship with Damian and I liked Nobody as an antagonist drawing on the history of the people who trained Batman.

Nightwing -- I started reading this and I was like 'yes, this is what a reboot should do. Bring back Haly's Circus after it was stupidly burned down previously.' and what does this comic do? Burn down Haly's Circus again!!! Can't have shit in Nightwing comics :/

Anyway, I loved seeing Nightwing try and negotiate his relationships as Nightwing as opposed to his friendships he made at the circus. I liked the push and pull between him and Babs and him and Raya. I think, in this universe where Dick was way older when he became Robin, it works really well, and while I obviously prefer Dick being like 8, I would say that this works well as it's own thing if it weren't for the elephant in the tent-- Haly's Circus being evil (boooooooooo!)

Like I said, can't have shit in Nightwing comics :|

I don't want Haly's Circus to be evil. I don't want them to be working for the court. If you really want the whole Nightwing was raised to be a living weapon thing, then idk, make it something none of them knew about, like some outsider that had been infiltrating and using the circus for their own ends. Don't have Mr Haly be the guy selling dick/that other guy out :(

Birds of Prey -- In contrast to Nightwing, this comic is just extremely mediocre. It's almost impressive how mid it is. I like Saiz' art but I'm struggling to find much else positive to say about it. It's fine. It gets the job done. It's missing that spark to do anything more interesting than girl team fights bad guys. On that same token, I'm having trouble coming up with much to criticize either. Like, obviously I think it would be better if Birds of Prey were still Oracles team, but like, other than the fact that I still think Katana's off (but I haven't read enough of her comics to articulate more), it's hard to find much to complain other than it's just mediocre and boring. Nightwing has high highs and low lows. This is like a flat line.

Batgirl -- I miss Oracle :'( But more seriously, Barbara Gordon as Batgirl has never been as intersting to me as her as Oracle. I liked the subplot of her trying to figure out how to have a new relationship with her mom--it was probably my favorite part and I liked seeing that new aspect of her. That being said, ugh, James Gordon Jr. I just do not like him as a character. He's too grim dark edgy for my tastes.

Another thing that goes into the 'I miss Oracle' category is her new dynamic with Bruce. She's over here caring about his opinion and everything and that's part of her getting aged down yet again, but also I miss when they were antagonistic and she didn't take his shit. As well as the whole question of 'why do we need to keep the killing joke in the first place?' You're rebooting the universe. Why do you need to rub taking Oracle away in our faces like this when you could've just had her never be shot. Though, I do appreciate how Simone is handling the internal conflict that Barbara is experiencing as a result of all of that.

[lightlycareless]

did someone say, let's separate Naoya's and Y/N's twins because the dad had to be a jerk?

spoilers ahead of what's to be posted soon; a 2 part!!!.

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

[silmarillion-dnd]

Rochir:

Masterlist

Rochir is a noun that means both knight and horse lord in Sindarin and it is the name of the Maia you can find in the woods of Núath, a forest in the north of Beleriand, where they call themself lord. They are a friendly enough Maia as long as you don´t attack them or are rude. If you befriend them, which doesn´t take a lot only feed their ego and keep them company, they´re lonely, they will travel with you and let you ride them.

Rochir is a former Maia of Orome of about the same power as Huan so he only has the form of a horse. They used to spend a lot of their time on the shores so they somehow got Manwe´s blessing and have the most power when it´s storming. Sometimes they will make it rain or thunder for fun.

If you ask them to wait for you they will become a bit angry but the only consequence will be to have to hear them complain about it for some time, also if you ask them why they left Orome or how they got Manwe´s blessing or anything about their name they will either not answer or get angry.

As with any other Maia they are territorial so it would make sense to make your champ at Núath, at least for some time. They can also sense other Ainur, no matter the size, although if the Ainur is powerful enough and doesn´t want to be known Rochir will only know they are close, not where they are, but that also means they can help you find magical items.

They don´t need to eat but do enjoy some fresh meat and sugar cubes at times.

You can find a special tack for them somewhere in their forest with protection spells on it and a few other things such as healing potions and some weapons.

Rochir can only reach level 5 since they are a lesser Maia.

Pros;

Rochir is faster than any other steed you can find and will help you in battle if you ask them to, you can also call on them even if they didn´t travel with you and they will teleport to you. Even if you become unfriends they will usually forgive you if you let them be for a day or two. Rochir can and will hunt for you when you have become good friends and even might give some of their ëalar if you are about to die since it can regenerate to its former size although it takes some time, this will make Rochir weaker than a normal horse and they´ll turn down each second turn in a fight but it will give you +4 on almost everything and make you able to cast thunderwave and misty steps as an extra turn, although only 15 feet.

Cons;

Rochis is pretty egoistic and self-centered, it would be best if you make a habit of telling them how pretty and wonderful they are. Although Rochis can forgive you fairly easily they find it harder to forgive others and will quickly turn to violence if they feel threatened or are afraid for you or think a peaceful negotiation won´t work. You usually have to roll Persuasion if you take them with you to a city or meeting, or happen to meet someone on your travels with them to make them calm down and see reasons, as they insist they are always right. A lot of people can see Rochis is not a normal horse which might cause problems for you. 

Strength; 10 

Dexterity; 18

Constitution; 16

Intelligence; 12

Wisdom; 10

Charisma; 10

Spells;

Misty steps 30 feet range (teleport)

Dancing light 100 feet range (bonus action, four lights will appear that can be used as torches and will light up 20 feet range)

Tunderwave 15 feet range (2d8 thunder damage, pushed 10 feet away) - enemies make a safety roll to see how much damage they take

Storm of Vengeance 360 feet range (2d6 thunder damage and deaf for five turns) can only be used once in between longest until reaching level 10 - enemies make a safety roll to see if they get damaged

Destructive Wave of Mutilation 30 feet range (5d6 thunder damage and 5d6 radiant damage) - enemies make a safety roll to see if they get damaged

[indomiinus]

@fightful // planned starter

It had been several months, almost a year, since the Darkest Day and Eternatus's release and subsequent capture at the hands of the new Champion Gloria. It wasn't allowed to stay with her though, it had been swiftly quarantined because it was just reckless to leave something like that in the hands of a child, no matter how capable. It had also been months since Chairman Rose's arrest and Macro Cosmos was transferred to Leon.

It’d just been one thing after another, a nonstop roller coaster of emotions and Leon was tired. Maybe tired was an understatement.

"You don't need that pressure on top of everything else," Piers had told him while Leon sat drunk and miserable in Piers’s crappy flat in Spikemuth after a particularly rough meeting with the company board. "Let the other suits manage shit. This is just another way for Rose to screw you over; you think he gave it to you because he knew you could handle it? He gave it to you to crush you. Throw it in the bin."

And Leon thought about doing just that. He thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It felt wasteful receiving Rose's legacy only to throw it into the trash; despite it all, he still cared about Rose and valued him and his opinions. What would Rose think? Would he be angry at Leon for squandering this "last gift?" Though, was it really a gift considering the things he’d uncovered about Rose while he was trying to get up to speed on the company?

The shady dealings, the contacts whose numbers were locked behind passwords that he couldn’t crack… It made his skin crawl somehow.

So Leon had to make his first real choice by himself. He just wished it wasn’t so hard. So Leon had to make his first real choice. There were only a select few people he trusted Macro Cosmos and the League to, and that was the Gym Leaders.

It wasn't on paper yet, and some weren't fully on board yet, but things were progressing and the interested Gym Leaders were starting to lay out and write down their requirements and ideas for the future direction of Macro Cosmos. That was a start, and Leon just had to keep the company afloat until negotiations were complete. 

He could surely do that much, right?

He was restless, lost, constantly looking to people who were just as lost as he was or just as uncertain. He did his best - but his best certainly wasn't good enough. Error after error came back, piling up on his desk and most nights Leon slept in the office that still smelled heavily of Rose's namesake even months later. It was nauseating being surrounded by nothing but reminders of complicated, sickening feelings of disgust and childish dependency and not having the time or space to sort the feelings out.

Even his own flat was decorated the way Rose had wanted it to be. He hadn't changed a thing about it. Hell, he'd barely been home to change anything.

That night though, Leon had forced himself to get out of the office and try to go home to his flat in Wyndon. 

Leon groaned, rubbing his palm across his face and rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes as he dragged himself down the quiet Wyndon streets towards Champion Crossing Station with his Mr. Rime, Reginald, guiding him.

"I'm so tired..." He complained under his breath, pulling his Rotom phone out and unlocking it. He yawned, the Rotom automatically opening up a list of currently open restaurants so he could grab something. Even if it was small, it was better than nothing. He just couldn't go to bed on an empty stomach again or else he was going to be sick in the morning. “I wonder if anywhere is even open at this hour…” Leon squinted at the screen, trying to read the offered list, but his strained reading was interrupted by a missed call notification from his mom.

"How long ago was that call?" He asked.

The Rotom hummed. "An hour." It answered cheerily. "Call back?"

Leon rubbed a palm against the side of his neck, and let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, call back. It's so late, what's she even doing awake?" It only rang once before she answered, and he was barely able to get out a, "Hi mum," before his mother was interrupting him.

"Have you seen Hop?"

"Hop? No, I haven't, not for a while." Leon answered, scratching his chin and looking up in thought. "Have you called Gloria or Marnie?"

"Mhmm... they said they haven't seen him for a few days. I was hoping that maybe he was with you..."

Leon's stomach sank, and any amount of exhaustion he felt melted away slowly, seeping from his body like sand in an hourglass. He pressed a palm to his mouth, trying to hide the way his jaw had grown tense and his mouth had formed a thin, anxious line. "What about with Bede?" He suggested, only to be met with another negative. He sucked down a breath through his teeth and he let his hand fall from his face. "How long has he been missing? Have you tried calling him?"

"He's been gone for three days, and he isn’t answering. His Rotom just goes straight to voicemail." His mom's voice wavered. “I… I’m sure he’s just off collecting Pokemon. Maybe he’s up north… cell service is a bit spotty up there…”

Leon nodded even though some part of him felt like the whole situation was off somehow. He’d been up there plenty of times, and he’d never had signal trouble before. But if it made his mother feel better, then he would let it slide. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s fine. But, I’ll come by, okay? I’ll take a few days off, and when Hop gets back, we’ll have a nice family reunion.” Leon really hoped it would be that easy. He didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario.

His words seemed to appease his mother at least, and that was all he could ask for. 

After a quick goodbye, Leon put in his notice for time off and recalled Reginald into his ball. In the same motion, he summoned Jules. The massive Charizard, larger and sturdier than most in the region, shook his head and gave his trainer a rough nudge with his snout and rumbled low in his chest.

"We'll get to rest soon, buddy, I promise." Leon apologized, patting Jules's cheek. "We’re taking a little vacation back home and I’d like to get there quick as you can, alright?" Jules snorted, and that was all the confirmation Leon needed. Without a moment more of hesitation, he hopped onto his Charizard's back and Jules took off like a shot.

Still, that rock of fear sat heavy in his gut. Not even the cold wind rushing past him and whipping his hair about his face and back chased it away. It just felt like he was missing something. Or something was wrong.

I hope I’m just being paranoid. Maybe once I get some sleep, I’ll have a clearer head.

—

Two days passed in Postwick and still nothing from Hop.

Leon and Jules had gone out to search the area, and the police had even been called, but both avenues had turned up nothing. Well, Leon’s search hadn’t, and the police just didn’t seem that pressed about the issue. A missing kid wasn’t exactly a serious thing; sometimes kids just got the itch for adventure and ran off, and then came back months later, their wanderlust sated. But Leon and his mom knew better than that.

Hop wasn’t the type of teenager to get up and run off just because the feeling hit him. He especially wouldn’t ignore phone calls. But the police just brushed them both off, though they finally did promise to at least keep an eye out for him. Leon had never been the type to lash out physically before, but in that moment, he certainly felt like he wanted to. He’d never been dismissed so easily before, especially when it came to something like this.

His mother was inconsolable and Leon was a nervous wreck; he barely slept, spending every hour scouring the air and the countryside for Hop in hopes of spotting him or a camp of his, but there was nothing there. Leon had questioned everyone Hop knew, hoping that maybe someone had seen him, but no one had but he hadn’t pressed much harder than that before he was moving on to the next person and place. But still, Hop was missing.

He’d been missing for a week now.

It was as if Hop had simply… vanished.

Leon sat at his desk in his old childhood bedroom, Hop’s journals and maps spread out in front of him and fear and anxiety gripping his chest in a vice. He’d felt bad looking at his brother’s private thoughts and feelings, and some of them certainly hurt to read, but he wasn’t there to snoop. He was just looking for… something. Anything. Any kind of clue as to where he could have gone to. 

But there was nothing. And that was terrifying. His mouth had felt dry all day, no matter how much water or tea he drank, and his mother hadn’t stopped pacing or staring out the window since the police dismissed them both. Something was drastically wrong, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Leon groaned, hanging his head.

“Where is he…” He muttered to the air. “He can’t really have run off, could he?”

His Rotom chirped, pushing its way forward so Leon would have to look at the screen when he lifted his head. He gave it a wary look, eyes scanning the words and images on the screen and he grimaced faintly. “A… PI? What good is that going to do? Won’t he just say the same thing the cops did?” Leon questioned.

The Rotom gave the impression of a shrug. “Can it hurt to try?” It asked.

Leon sat up straighter, taking the Rotom into his hands and studying the address and reviews. “I don’t know… I guess not… I just–” Leon rubbed a hand at the side of his neck, brow furrowed. He chewed on his lower lip and pushed himself to his feet. “Alright. Alright, it’s the last legal channel I have, and then after that I’ll just have to figure something out. Even if I have to go find him by myself. Where’s that guy located at? Motostoke?”

“Yessir! I’ll set the GPS for his office.” The Rotom replied.

“Thanks.”

He grabbed his jacket on the way out, yanking it on as he took the steps two at a time. He paused by the front door, looking over at his mother, his brow furrowed. She was sound asleep on the couch, which she’d turned to face the big garden window in the living room and he felt bad leaving her alone like this without telling her to her face. All he could do was leave a note, which he stuck to the front door with some poster putty from one of the kitchen junk drawers.

‘Be back soon. Going to Motostoke, I’ll be back tomorrow.’

And with that, he was out the door.

With Jules flying him there, it didn’t take long for them to reach Kabu’s city, the Rotom tucked into the front of Leon’s jacket and spitting out directions and distance to their destination. The second it exclaimed, “Our destination is under us!”, Jules dove down lazily to land in a small convenience store parking lot so he didn’t halt traffic or cause an accident. 

Leon hopped off his Charizard’s back and recalled him immediately. The Rotom freed itself from his coat and, once it was sure Leon was following, led the way down the street. They’d landed a couple blocks away, and while Leon had hoped the walk would steady his nerves, it just made him feel even more antsy, and maybe just a bit silly somehow.

He’d never, in a million years, could have imagined he’d be hiring a private investigator. It was the kind of thing that happened in movies or books, not real life.

It felt surreal walking up to the red brick building, a cute three story building that must have been apartments at some point in time before they’d been converted into freelance offices of various sorts, and the age of the building clashed with the new-ish electric buzzer system by the door. Leon fidgeted a bit with the hem of his jacket, scanning the tags until he found what he was looking for.

OCTAVIUS GREAT, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

“Well…” He took a breath and let out a nervous, anxious little laugh. “Here goes…” He pressed the button and stepped back, waiting with butterflies in his stomach to get buzzed in. His Rotom stayed at his side, ready to lead him around since it was likely that Leon would end up lost just stepping into the building.