#and i try to fool myself into believing someday I’ll pick it back

[patolemus]

A prompt. Adoption papers. It’s like a ‘here’s this totally awesome story that you sure would want to be finished, how about you do it, since I obviously won’t?’ situation.

You’ve heard of one shots, now get ready for none shots! It’s when you think of an idea for a fic and then don’t write it

[totallynormalfanficauthor]

“Doctor?” 

Sally called for her creator as she headed down the ramp to the bottom floor of the tower. She strolled daintily across the tile to his lab, and went inside without hesitation. Finkelstein was right where she expected him to be- off to the side of the room working on some sort of project. Jewel was standing to his left, presumably helping him. 

They both looked up as she entered. 

“Ah, Sally. Come in, my girl.” The doctor turned his attention back to the work in front of him. “Do you need something?” 

“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be heading out now,” She told him.

“I see. And where will you be headed?” 

“Well…” Sally hesitated, “...Jack made some plans for us today, I believe. Although I don’t know exactly where he’s taking me..”

The Doctor made a noise through his nose, “-fooling around with that boyfriend of yours again, I should have guessed.” 

“Ohh, leave her alone, Finky. I think it’s sweet.” Jewel smiled at her and nodded kindly. “Have a horrible time, Sally. We’ll see you later then.” 

“Just don’t be out too late.”

She nodded, thanked them, and was on her way. 

Needless to say, Sally had been pretty ecstatic when she received a phone call from her lover earlier that morning. He informed her that he cleared his schedule so the two of them could spend the day together, and she agreed to meet him in town by the fountain, right before lunch time. At first, Sally was worried this was some important date she was forgetting. But it wasn’t. He explained that he just wanted to see her again, and that this was something he wanted to plan for a bit now. She figured he must have been missing her- Jack was like that sometimes.

When Sally arrived in town, it was about as busy as it normally is. Creatures and monsters of all kinds were hurrying around, continuing out their day. She gazed up at the pumpkin sun, smiling as the warm light washed over her face. A murder of crows could be heard in the distance, squawking about. Sally could already tell she was going to have a horrific time this afternoon, and she couldn’t wait to see her beloved skeleton again. 

The fountain was within her view now. And so was Jack.

The Pumpkin King was standing just where he said he’d be. His back was facing Sally, and he had one hand on his hip. He waved to people as they passed him, mumbling a few greetings here and there too. Her heartbeat quickened at the sight. Smiling wider, she sped up her pace and approached him. He jolted slightly and whipped around to face her as she grabbed his hand with zero hesitation. 

“Jack-”

“Sally! There you are!” He placed an arm around her to pull her into a hug, “I’ve been waiting, I’m so glad you’re here.” 

She blushed a tiny bit and hugged him back, “...Glad to be here as well, very horrible to see you again, Jack.” 

“Yes, I missed you dearly..” 

She laughed, “It’s only been a few days..” 

“Still..” He chuckled lightly and let go of her. “Alright, Sal… thank you for agreeing to come with me today. I have.. Quite a bit planned, I’m sure it will be the most dreadful experience.”

“I can’t wait..” Sally brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek. “Where are we headed to first, darling?” 

“I was thinking… lunch.” He took her by the hand, “if you want to… I thought, a picnic by the lake would be nice?”

“Ohh, that sounds marvelous..” she squeezed his hand in return, “I’m quite hungry, actually. I’d love that.”

“Fantastic. I was hoping you’d say so… I kind of..  set it up already.” 

Sally laughed, “thinking ahead.. I like that.”

“Shall we be off then?” 

“We Shall.” 

—

By now, Sally was used to the stares she would get whenever her and Jack were seen around town together. It had, after all, only been a few weeks since the two of them started dating. After the pumpkin king had gone so long being a single man, it was odd to see him… well, not single. 

But Sally didn’t mind the curious looks. If anything, it only fueled her. She was proud to be the one to have won his heart. Hard for her to believe sometimes, yes, but it was true. She squeezed his hand tighter, sighing contently. 

The two of them spoke briefly on their stroll towards the lake. Sally asked how Zero was doing, and Jack was curious to know if she was working on any new projects. But for the most part, they just wanted to enjoy each other's company. And it only seemed moments before the lake came into view in the distance. 

Jack was speaking truthfully when he said he’d already set everything up. Sally could see there was a rather large, dark blanket lying on the ground in typical picnic-like fashion. Sitting on top of it was a basket, with a couple small plates and napkins stacked next to it. Dark, rich red roses were scattered around the edges. It was a very pretty set up- very romantic. 

“Ohh… this is lovely..” Sally spoke as they approached.

“...You think so?”

“Of course,” the two of them strolled forward and came to sit on opposite sides of the blanket. Jack looked pleased as he reached for the basket. “...What did you bring?”

“Well, I made us some sandwiches,” he answered, “-one has worms, and the other, beetles. I was going to let you pick.” 

He placed down two plates and reached into the basket. Pulling out the sandwiches he spoke of, he placed those down on the plates. Then continued looking through the basket. “I brought some other things too, of course… a bag of spider legs,- oh! And here.” He pulled two tea cups out of the basket as well. Sally watched as he filled them with what she could only assume to be tea, out of an unlabeled bottle. She smiled.

“Oh, this is all so wonderful, Jack. I’ve never been on a picnic like this before. Thank you..”

“It’s my pleasure, my goal is for you to have the most horrific time today.”

“Mm..” Sally leaned back to rest on her hand, folding her legs. She couldn’t help but think.. something seemed off about her boyfriend. What with the way kept mentioning he wanted her to have a ‘horrific day’, and all. She knew he had good intentions, but she couldn't shake the feeling there was more to this he wasn’t telling her. Almost like there was something on his mind. 

“Which sandwich would you prefer, Sal?” She looked up suddenly. 

“What? Oh, um..” she thought for a second, adjusting her dress as she was snapped from her thoughts, “..I don’t mind. I guess, worms would be good.” 

She nodded her thanks as Jack leaned over and handed the sandwich to her. It did look really good- she’d nearly forgotten how hungry she was. Taking her first bite was just as satisfying. 

“So,” Jack spoke, deciding to strike up a conversation, “How was your morning?” 

“Just fine, thank you. I was very glad to receive your phone call. How was yours?” 

“Pretty uneventful” he paused to sip his tea, “..most of my time was spent trying to convince the mayor that taking one day off isn’t going to ruin our plans for the rest of the year.” They both chuckled. 

“He’s quite dramatic, isn’t he?” 

“That he is. He means well, though.” 

They both fell silent. Sally studied Jack’s face as she crunched onto a spider leg, trying to read his expression. His eye sockets shifted over to hers suddenly and she blinked, slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring but didn’t look away. 

“Sally?” 

“Yes?”

“..this is a bit of a random question, but” he put his cup down, “..do you ever think about… your future?”

“My future..?”

“Yes. You know, like..” he leaned back a bit and thought for a moment, “...like, where you’d see yourself. Or how you’d want things to be.” 

“Hmm…” Sally pondered this question, “..well, yes, I suppose I do..” 

“Really?” he looked intrigued, “..and what sort of things do you think about? If you don’t mind me asking..” 

“Well… oh, I don’t know..”, she put her sandwich down to reach for her own tea, “Just..the normal things, I suppose. I think I’d like to...get married someday…” she broke eye contact and stared down at the orange liquid in her cup. “...and maybe.. have a family… you know?” 

“A family…” Jack paused, “you mean, like… children?” 

The ragdoll felt her face warm. “...yeah.” 

Once again they both went quiet. Sally wondered if maybe she said the wrong thing. But that’s a perfectly normal thing to want, right? Surely.. 

“-That sounds lovely, Sal.” She looked up suddenly as Jack spoke. His posture was relaxed and his expression looked understanding. “..I guess it’s just a matter of seeing where things go, then.”

“I suppose so..” She tilted her head at him, becoming sort of curious, “-why do you ask about this, Jack?” 

“What? Oh, well… I don’t know..” He glanced away for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I guess I’ve just… been thinking about it quite a bit myself, lately.”

“Really?” Sally put her cup down, “And what sorts of things do you think about?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifted downward. “...about the same as you, I guess..” 

“I see…”

After a moment Jack looked back up. It was then that he decided to change the subject entirely.

“-How are you enjoying the food?”

“Oh, this is delicious, thank you.”

“I’m glad you think so, let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

“Of course.” 

Jack and Sally spent the next hour or so chatting away as they finished up their picnic. It was very nice to be spending quality alone time together like this again. They both found themselves enjoying it immensely. 

Sally didn’t try to think about or pry anymore into what Jack might have on his mind. If there was something he wanted to talk about, Sally figured he’d say something. Otherwise, she wanted to be respectful and leave it be. So she tucked away her suspicions in the back of her mind instead, and decided to carry on with whatever Jack had planned. 

Once they finished eating and everything, Sally thanked him yet again for bringing her out there. With such a fine view of the lake, it made for the most lovely date. They packed everything up and headed back to Jack’s house where he ran inside to put his stuff away. Sally was able to say Hi to Zero, and the two met back outside by Jack’s gate. Sally squeezed his hand. 

“What did you have planned next, dearest?” 

“Something simple,” He squeezed her hand back, “I was thinking we could take a walk? It is such a terrible day afterall. Through the Hinterlands maybe? What do you think?” 

“Oh, I’d love that,” Sally smiled happily as they started forward, “-and after all that sitting too, my legs really need stretching.” 

Jack chuckled, “Sounds like a plan then.” And started them on the path towards the Hinterlands. 

By the time they got there, the pumpkin sun was high in the sky. Its orange light swept over everything, gracefully as the bat flies. It truly was a terrible day, the perfect weather to take a walk. Sally was practically beaming as they started down the trail. She gazed up at the swirling trees all around them, wondering just how tall they were. Leaves and sticks snapped and cracked under their shoes as they strolled along. 

“This is so peaceful, Jack… it’s just what I wanted..” 

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Have you ever visited the Hinterlands?” 

“Not like this..” She shook her head, “I’ve come to the edge of it to collect herbs before… but I've never walked around or through it.” 

“Ah, I see. You’re in for a treat then, It's a gorgeous place.”

“I can see that... '' Sally gazed around, wide eyed. “..this is where you discovered the holiday doors, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, indeed. It’s a pretty far walk though, so we don’t have to go there today. Maybe another time though, I’d love for you to visit Christmas Town.” 

She chuckled, “You really think Sandy Claws would let you over there? After everything?” 

“Hey, now, he and I are on good terms now.” He laughed a bit as well, “Besides, if it’s just for a visit I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. It’s not like I'd be going there to steal anything… again.” 

“Fair point.” 

They continued on, making small conversation but mostly enjoying each other’s company and the view of the trees around them. 

As they walked Sally briefly let go of Jack’s hand to adjust hair that had blown into her face by the sleight breeze that drifted through them as they walked. She couldn’t help but notice the sticks scattered on the ground, some of them bigger than the others. She wondered if maybe a recent storm had knocked them down. 

As she turned to ask her boyfriend a question, she neglected to see a particularly large branch on the ground a few paces ahead of her. Unfortunately, in just the wrong spot. 

“Jack, why does- !” She gasped as she suddenly tripped, her foot caught on the jaggedy surface. Jack tried to reach out and catch her, but because he didn’t have her hand, he missed. Sally went tumbling down with an ‘oof’. 

“Sally!” Jack's voice was edged with panic as he shouted for her. He crouched down to her level trying to help her up right away, “Are you alright?!” 

The ragdoll lifted herself up onto her elbows, turning to face Jack and taking his hand. “Eugh...y-yeah… I’m okay..” Her face and chest were covered in dirt from the impact. Jack helped her sit up a little bit more, and only then noticed the rest of the damage. 

“Darling, your leg..!” 

Sally looked down, surely enough, her leg had become detached at the knee. The thread was completely broken, and leaves were spilling out everywhere. She could feel her left arm was a bit loose as well. 

She brushed the dirt from her cloth skin as she tried to reassure her now worried boyfriend. “Jack, I’m fine, really. I didn’t get hurt-”

“But your leg-”

“Is fine! I brought my spool and needle with me, we just need to reattach it, that's all.”

“It really doesn’t… hurt?” 

“Not at all.” 

Jack sighed, still on edge but very relieved that she was okay. Sally flipped around so that she was sitting up straight, and reached into her pocket.

“...That was some fall, what happened?” He asked. 

“I think I.. tripped on something..” She pulled out her spool of thread and reached behind her ear for the needle. Then motioned toward her detached leg. Jack took the hint and grabbed it, pushing it up towards her. Then he paused. 

“May I… help you? If it’s alright?” 

“Help me?” 

“Yes,” he pointed to her limb, “I’d like to try… sewing you.” 

He’ll admit, that sounded like an odd request outloud. But Sally didn’t seem to mind. She thought for a moment, then handed him the respected tools. 

“Yes, alright. Go ahead.” She decided to take this moment to tighten up the stitches on her arm instead. While she did that, Jack got busy with her leg. 

He threaded the needle first then stuffed all her leaves back inside. Then did his best to line it up with her knee. After some reassurance, he hesitated, then pushed the thread through until it broke the skin. With that, he began to sew her up. 

Jack couldn’t help but take note of the other details across her leg that he had never noticed. The way her stitches made such a cute, intricate pattern. He also noticed how smooth, and quite soft her skin was, something he’d never thought about considering he had never done this before. He found himself staring at her legs and, slightly ashamed of himself, opted to look up instead while his hands continued to work. 

He noticed Sally tugging at the seams across the middle of her arm, presumably tightening them. They must have come loose in the fall as well. 

Finally finished, he tied a small knot and snapped the end off. He briefly gazed over his work- it seemed to be pretty good, but Sally would have to be the judge of that. 

“What do you think?” he asked, “Tight enough?” 

He sat back while the ragdoll stretched out her leg, bent it, then brushed her fingers neatly over the seams. 

“-It’s perfect, Jack, thank you. You did wonderfully.” 

“Not a problem at all” The skeleton stood up, and offered his hand to her. She took it, stood, and walked a few paces just to be sure. Jack rejoined her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, chuckling lightly. “This time, I’m going to make sure you’re safe. You won’t be falling again.” 

Sally giggled, “My hero..” And wrapped an arm around him in return before they both continued on their walk, happy, ready for their date to resume right where they left off. 

—

Sally was ecstatic to be spending the rest of the day with her beloved. Jack wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of stuff planned. After their walk through the Hinterlands, They decided to head back to Jack’s place to spend some time there. Jack had some books he wanted to show her, then they watched a movie together. Snuggling on the couch- that was most enjoyable. 

By this time, the afternoon was finally turning into the evening. They hit a couple different places before Jack took Sally to their favorite restaurant for dinner. He paid for all their food, and even bought Sally a very delicious dessert- a Melting Blood cake. Which they shared, and were barely able to finish. 

Once they were done eating, the sun was just about starting to go down. Jack informed her that he had one more thing on their to-do list for tonight, and he suggested they watch the sunset from the top of spiral hill. 

Sally was more than happy to oblige, that sounded like quite the wonderful idea to her. Like the perfect way to end what had been the most perfect day. 

 The ragdoll followed him to the top of the hill, reaching out to grab his hand when they got there. They turned, faced towards the sun setting across town. It edged slowly, washing its golden light over the buildings as it did. Sally sighed contently. Here she was, holding her lover's hand, watching the sunset from the place they’d shared their first kiss. Oh, how could things get any better? 

“…Sally?”

She glanced up as Jack spoke her name, very softly. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you happy?”

Sally blinked, slightly surprised at the question. “Oh, yes, Jack. I’m very happy, more than I’ve ever been before.”

“…and your day today. Just as horrific as I said it would be?” 

“Even more.. you’ve done so much for me. I’d..I’d almost say you’re treating me like a queen.” 

The sentence rolled off Sally’s tongue before she could really think about it. Not that she was wrong- he was in fact treating her extra special that day. One could wonder.. why?

She blushed a bit and looked up at him, waiting for a reply. For a moment, his expression was blank. Before his sockets went half lidded and he smiled. 

“Funny… that you would say that.” 

“Oh..?” her heartbeat quickened a tiny bit. Surely not..

“Yeah..” he turned towards her suddenly and cupped both of her hands inside his own. “Sally… I need to ask you something.”

“W…what is it..?” She trembled slightly, having a feeling what might come next but finding it hard to believe. He continued. 

“I know we… haven’t been together for very long. But.. these past couple weeks that I’ve had you by my side, have surely been some of the best. And I know, from the bottom of my heart, that I don’t want anyone else by my side. And I never will want anyone else by my side.” 

Her heart rate quickened yet again, eyes swelling up with tears this time. 

“J…J-Jack..”

“-I know that… every part of me loves you, so very dearly. And I want you by my side forever.” 

He got down on one knee. 

Sally clasped a hand over her mouth as her tears began to fall. She sobbed lightly, her heart overflowed as she could hardly believe this was real. She tried one more time to say his name, but it came out cracked and broken amidst her cries. Jack almost looked ready to cry himself, as he squeezed her hands one final time.

“Sally Finkelstein…. My dearest friend… and most beloved angel of my nightmares…” 

He leaned forward.

“…Will you marry me?” 

…

…

….

“….YES!” 

Sally burst into tears and sprang forward, barely leaving Jack anytime to get back to his feet and catch her. They wrapped their arms around each other tightly. Neither wanting to let go nor planning on it.  Jack could feel her crying into his suit, not that he minded at all. He went to give her a kiss on the cheek before she lifted her head very suddenly to catch his lips. Jack melted into the kiss and they held each other, staying there for several moments. Neither of them needed air anyway. 

Finally they separated and Jack cupped Sally’s face, moving close so their foreheads were touching. Tears were still spilling out from her eyes, and a large smile was plastered across her face. She attempted to get words out, only partially succeeding. 

“J-Jack….I-I…I can’t believe… you…and-and me…” 

“Shhh,” he hushed her calmly. “Take a deep breath, my love. It’s alright.” 

Sally did as he suggested and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. That seemed to do the trick. 

“Jack…” she choked out, wiping her eyes, “I love you..”

“I love you too…I really, really do.”

“D-Did you have this planned… all day..?” 

“Of course I did. I needed it… to be special, you know?” He held her close and chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t.. have the ring yet. It’s currently being made- but once I heard, I ah, got so I excited… I just had to ask-“

“N-No, it’s okay, Jack. It’s okay. I’m glad you asked… oh.. you’ve made me so, so happy.”

“And you’ve made me happy, Sally..” 

She nuzzled into him more, holding him tighter. 

“So… this means, I-I can, move in with you?”

“If that’s what you’d like”

“Yes…yes” more tears fell, “oh, Jack, I love you so much.” 

“I-I love you too, Sal..” he wiped his own socket, realizing he’d become a bit choked up himself. “…we’re not.. moving too fast, are we?”

“Oh, oh no…” she reassured him, “believe me, Jack, there’s nobody I’d rather be with either. I love you, okay? With all of my heart.”

“So you said… I feel the exact same.”

The sun had gone completely down by now. The moon gradually rose above them, and the graveyard swallowed in the darkness. The atmosphere couldn’t be more perfect. Jack and Sally collapsed into kisses on top the hill, all they really wanted was to be by, and with each other right now. 

Right now.

And tomorrow.

And forever.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about Tamaki with a reader who knows a lot about flower language so they leave him little flowers as gifts but never tell him it's them cause they don't want to break Tamaki's spirit since he 'believes' it's haruhi. (But he only says that he thinks it's haruhi cause he's afraid of reader finding out that he has a crush on them). And then Kyoya decides to finally help you two get together so he gives Tamaki subtle hints, and then bamn. Confession.

—🌱 (if tumblr eats this ask i will proceed to blast myself into space/also i'm sorry if this is too long and complicated </3)

No worries, this is a perfect idea haha!

.........

An orange blossom.

A symbol of chastity, purity, and loveliness.

It was obvious that Tamaki knew its meaning right away, given he was well-versed in the language of flowers.

Over the past week or so, he’s been left one flower at his usual hosting table. A new day meant a new flower would show up. He had his suspicions of some secret admirer who didn’t dare to show their face, nor leave any indication of their identity. 

This certainly perplexed the princely-type; at home, in class, and at the club..he kept asking himself the same question:

Who?

Who was the one trying to profess their love to him in such a subtle way?

He managed to narrow it down to two people he’s gotten close to recently: you and Haruhi. There was no doubt it had to be one of you.

But he knew that it wasn’t like Haruhi to leave flowers all around, especially ones with deep meanings like the orange blossom in his hand.

Which means it could only be-

‘No..’  He shook his head. ‘It may be true but...what if this is just a friendly gesture? They could never possibly see me..the same way that I see them, right? I got it! I’ll just convince myself that this is all Haruhi’s-!!’

“Tamaki, there’s guests waiting for you. So if you’re quite finished with whatever warped fantasy you're immersed in..”

With a small scream, Tamaki whirled around to see Kyoya standing there. His face was burning red, but thankfully the ravenette didn’t hear his thoughts whatsoever, so he regained his composure quickly.

He had no time to sulk over this matter, so he tucked the blossom into his pocket and smiled, turning on his charm as he went over to entertain his guests.

..........

“Will you ever tell him?”

“I don’t know..maybe someday.” You sighed as you sat beside Mori at lunchtime. Honey arrived soon after, joining you both at the table.

You decided to confide in the two about your crush on Tamaki and the flowers you’ve been leaving for him as hints. But after dropping off the orange blossom yesterday, you felt like it was slowly becoming a lost cause because you’re certain he only had eyes for one woman: Haruhi.

You didn’t want to risk shattering his spirit and forcing him to reject you. It would be an awful situation for everyone involved.

“Tama-chan still doesn’t know??”

“I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s Haruhi.” Your voice lowered into a despondent murmur. 

“But Haru-chan doesn’t know much about flowers or their meanings,” Honey pouted. “I’m a hundred--no..two hundred percent sure that if you’re honest-!”

“Mitsukuni. Eat your food before it gets cold."

“....okaaay, Takashiiii..” He went back to eating his lunch, like a kid who was being scolded by his parent.

“He’ll figure it out soon, I’m sure.” Mori tried to reassure you.

“Yeah, I can only hope. He can be a real airhead, though..” You sighed.

And so the remainder of your lunch was quiet.

...........

During the last hour of the meeting, after the guests were gone, the hosts saw that their leader wasn’t his usual cheerful-self. Even the guests have noted that he seemed perturbed about something, but he just kept making excuse after excuse.

Kyoya knew very well what was wrong, so he insisted that he and Tamaki talked outside the music room.

But even in the empty hallway he continued to mope around, dodging his longtime friend’s questions and making up lies until-

“You’re not in love with Haruhi. You just convinced yourself this was true out of fear of being taken for a fool by [y/n], your real crush.”

“A fool?!!” Tamaki gawked, turning slightly pale as he stared at him. “Is that all I really am to you, Mommy??!”

“From my observations, yes.”

“!!!!!”

“Now don’t go sulking again,” Kyoya warned. “Not until you tell me..who, out of all the people you know, is highly familiar with flower symbolism?”

“W-Well..[y/n], right?”

“And who told you that they have a lovely garden and regularly visit commoner flower shops?

“...[y/n]...”

“So you know for sure it’s not Haruhi...nor some "friendly gesture.” With a sigh, he closed his notebook, although he perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching, looking behind him to see you. “Oh, hello, [y/n]. I had assumed you’ve gone home for the day."

“Ah, Kyoya-senpai. Hi.” You stopped to catch your breath. “S-Sorry I didn’t show up today, I was behind on a lecture and....Tamaki-senpai?”

The aforementioned blonde yelped and hid behind Kyoya, although he did a terrible job at it as the latter merely stepped aside. “It’s now or never, Tamaki."

And with that, he walked away, leaving you both alone in the hall.

“So...anything interesting happen at the club?"

Tamaki tensed up. "U-Um, no..it was quite an uneventful day, at least for me." He rubbed his arm. "That's..a nice flower you got there.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly held up the red rose in your grasp. Of course, there were countless ones decorating the music room, and the hosts always seemed to have an endless stash of them to gift to the ladies.

But this rose was much different, even Tamaki knew.

You could tell he was frozen on the spot, so you sighed and walked over, taking his hand to place the rose in it. “Yes, it was me who left all those flowers for you.”

“It was?? I knew it--wait..how much of our conversation did you hear???"

“Not a lot, but at least my fears weren’t confirmed.” You smiled sweetly at him. “Guess I tend to overthink stuff as much as you do, huh?”

Usually this is where he’d respond back with some cheesy romantic quip. But he couldn’t find the right words this time around. It didn’t help that you were now holding both of his hands either, but you were patient, knowing that he desperately wanted to say something to you.

“[Y/n], I’m..truly touched by your gifts.” He managed to speak at last. "Each flower you've bestowed upon me seems as though it was freshly-picked from the Garden of Eden itself. You spoke to me through these flowers..but..even though I knew what they’ve been trying to tell me...part of me was oh-so very afraid of being...wrong.”

Tears glistened in his violet eyes, though you couldn’t tell if they were for dramatic effect or legitimate. Nevertheless, your smile grew as you listened to his speech.

Eventually he did get to his point: he was in love with you but was terrified of what you might think--that he was too immature or aloof or incompetent to ever be more than just a friend.

You just chuckled, shaking your head. “I was afraid to tell you for the same reasons. I knew you could’ve gone for any girl in this school, so..uh...I guess I’m a lucky person, huh?”

“Why, I’d consider myself the lucky one, here. But does this mean...” He tilted his head like a curious puppy, gazing at you intensely. “..you accept my confession?”

“Yeah, more or less. If I didn’t things would be real awkward right-!!”

All of the sudden you were pulled closer to his chest, trapping you in a tight hug. But you simply wrapped your arms around him, before breathing a small sigh of relief.

You were surprised, yet pleased, that things turned out this way.

Meanwhile in Tamaki’s "Theater of the Mind", fireworks were going off and he was prancing around with joyful tears streaming down his cheeks. But in reality he just smiled and closed his eyes as he squeezed you tightly, his heart full of love and joy.

Earlier today he had lost those, but..

You have become his new love and joy.

[supercorpkid]

Mind Controlled – The Series.

Part 2 – Pull the trigger.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Lex Luthor x Niece!Reader.

Word count: 2300.

Warning: Injuries, violence, pain, angst.

Previously on the series - part 1

You land on the same room, on the same building, waiting for Lex's voice to come out of the speaker with further instructions. You’re ready to do whatever he asks from you.

“You’re back, my bösewicht.” You hear his voice sometime later. “I presume you have done a good job leaving your mothers wrecked?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such an obedient little monster. A Super with a Luthor’s brain. Why has no one thought about this before? Oh yes, I have. But they called me a mad man for it, and yet here you are.” And there you are. Standing still, staring at a wall, waiting for more orders. “In that stupid outfit, dear Lord, why would anyone be dressed in those stupid clothes?”

You look down on your super suit. You do look stupid. This stupid skirt, horrible boots, long sleeve shirt so tight if you were human, it would mark your skin. It makes you so sick you want to rip it off of your body.

“Nevertheless, with you playing pet for me, I can do whatever I want even still in jail.” The static comes again, but Lex doesn’t stop talking. “I should’ve known Lena would be greedy and want a smart and powerful kid. But I hadn’t had confirmation, that was until mother came here to visit and told me all about you. So impressed with her little granddaughter.” He lets out a chuckle. “I can’t imagine how infuriated she’ll be once she finds out it was her, who gave me the idea to mind control you.”

You think about Lillian, and how impressed she is with you. You give yourself a cocky smile. She should be impressed, you are impressive.

“Kryptonians might have strong minds, but Luthors? We’re unfortunately just humans. So my bright sister didn’t think that having a powerful kryptonian daughter with a susceptible mind wasn’t a good idea?” He scoffs. "Oh, Lena. You may try, but you will never be smart like me.”

There’s a loud breathing sound.

“That’s enough of chatting. I have better things for you to do, my bösewicht. You’ll break me out of jail when it’s time, but first-” There’s a wicked little pause. “Let’s destroy the Super name.”

Your body is suddenly filled with rage and wrath. You want to destroy everything. You want to drop a bomb in everyone’s head. You want to make them suffer.

“That’s it. Use your rage. Destroy National City, scare them, let them see you in your worst form. Let them fear the Supers, and then, come for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You fly off the window, looking for a place to start. You want to cause damage, you want them to be scared of you, whoever they may be.

You start off by using your heat vision to draw the ‘House of El’ symbol in the middle of the park, so they know who’s responsible for all that it is coming their way. You watch the grass burning, the form coming along and your heart beats fast, enthusiastic.

You didn’t even start the destruction part yet, and this already feels fulfilling. You know exactly where to go next.

You fly to your training center and you look down. This stupid-ass place gives you no good memories at all. You got beat up, got yelled at, got annoyed every time your powers didn’t work like they were supposed to, got angry at people looking at you thinking you weren’t good enough. You remember their disapproving looks; you remember the tiniest of sighs you’ve heard.

Fuck them all.

Your heat vision hits the ground, and your heart gets heavy, but your powers never stop. You can almost taste the feeling of being a disappointment in your mouth. And it gets you incredibly proud of yourself. You want to disappoint them. Them being proud of you means nothing at all.

You look down on the entire place up in flames. This is the right thing. Destroying this place will send them a message. You are not their little pet anymore. They can’t keep you under a leash, pretending you’re not powerful and fucking special. You’re so fucking special, even Lex wants your powers.

It’s not long until Supergirl flies in front of you. You smirk at her looking down. There’s a powerful feeling cursing through your veins. You know she can see it too. Your hair blowing in the wind, your stupid super suit moving almost in slow motion, your eyes burning of rage with little flames dancing in the dark of your enlarged pupils.

“I believe you owe me an apology.” It’s the first thing you say, after unclenching your jaw. “You called me weak.” You spit, disgusted. “You were mistaken.”

“Deeply.” Kara agrees looking down, and you notice the cars from the DEO stopping, people getting out of them in desperation, trying to put out the fire. That makes you so happy. She looks back at you. “Is this what this whole thing is about? You’re trying to prove to me you’re strong, after all this time?”

“Trying?” You scoff, then your face goes back to a frown. “I don’t need to prove myself. Especially not to someone who uses her powers to stop bank robberies instead of having the world under her firm grip.”

“I know you’re not my daughter.” Kara comes a little bit closer; you don’t move. You’re not scared of her, but she should be scared of you. “Are you bizarro?”

“You’re too far consumed in this battle of ego to see right in front of you.” You tilt your head, letting a creepy smile dangle on your lips. “Don’t you recognize your little one, mommy?”

“If that’s the case, then I have to stop you either way, little one.” Kara does her whole superhero pose and you laugh at her.

“You can’t. You don’t have the stomach.” You look down to the ground and you see Lena there. “I see, you won’t be the one doing it. Clean hands, right? Let the Luthor hurt the Kryptonian. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I’m sorry, my love. It has to be done.” Supergirl flies towards you in one motion. You still try to fly away, but she is a little faster, so she grabs you easily. You push her, punch her, you even pull her hair, but she doesn’t let go.

She lands on the floor with you wrapped in her arms, and Lena comes closer. Kryptonite gun in hand. Soon, you’re surrounded by agents with their own guns. Supergirl lets you go, flying above you, but not leaving, in case you decide to make a run for it.

You look at Lena. Gun in hand. You listen to her heartbeat going crazy and you smile at her.

Let’s play, mom.

“Do it.” You dare. “I want to see you pull that trigger. I want to see you hurt your own daughter with Kryptonite.”

“I don’t want to do this, baby.” Lena assures you, taking a small step towards you. “I promise you, I’ll figure out what’s going on with you. You just have to come with me.”

“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” You lock eyes with watery green eyes behind the gun. “You’ve always known someday the Luthor genes would shine through. Because no matter how good the Super gene is, the Luthor one is worse. So, so bad. Rotten to the core. You’ve always known I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“I’ve told you before. We are not Luthors. We are Luthor-Danvers, and that means something. Please, stand down. Let me look at you.”

“Tell me to stand down one more time and I’ll throw-” You look at one guy on your left and point at him. “That guy into space.”

“Baby.” It’s Lena’s last try, you can see it in her face. You can see the way her finger presses lightly at the trigger. You also hear how that makes everyone else do the exact same movement.

“I’m not going to run away. But I won’t surrender, either.” You defy her. “If you want me to go with you, then you have to do it. You have to pull the trigger and you have to live with the guilt all your life.”

“I’m sorry it has come to this, baby.” But her face doesn’t hold much sentiment, nor does she lower her weapon. “But you know I have to do this. You can’t go on pulling stunts like this. You can’t keep thinking there are no consequences to your actions.”

“You are not sorry.” You smirk. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Lena.” It’s the way her name leaves your mouth that makes her flinch. “I know you’re dying to pull that trigger and be the one who tamed a Kryptonian once again. It’s what all Luthors want in the end.”

She pulls the trigger, making you fall on the floor in pain, after a blast of kryptonite hits your chest.

“You should be so satisfied now.” You whimper. Kryptonite filling your body. “You’ve used kryptonite on your wife, and now on your daughter. It’s a full circle, isn’t it?” You spit out your words.

Lena puts you in handcuffs that strip you off of your powers, and strokes your cheeks gently. Eyes full of tears and instant regret.

“I’m bringing you back, my baby. I promise you.” She whispers delicately, like she’s not even talking to you anymore, but maybe to the memory she has of you.

But the two agents that come from behind you don’t pick you up delicately. In fact, they seem very pissed at you, and you’re shoved into the back of a van where Alex is.

“Aunt Alex.” You start with your bitchy tone and Alex breathes deep.

“Listen kiddo, I’m not in the mood.” She shakes her head, upset. “You just caused us millions of dollars in damages, Kara is a wreck, and don’t even get me started on Lena.” Alex raises her eyes from her tablet. “I know you’re not yourself, that’s why I don’t give a fuck about this. You start talking? That gag goes in your mouth in a second. Don’t think you can play me like you did with your moms.”

“I think the story would be really different if Lena hadn’t cuffed me and stripped me off of my powers.” You raise an eyebrow, not breaking eye contact. “You’re scared of me too.”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Alex smiles unbothered. “I’ve dealt with things much worse, and much scarier than you and your babyface.” She grabs the gag and looks at you. “Now shut it, or I’ll make you.”

You decide to shut up. Your quarrel isn’t with Alex and the last thing you want it’s to be shut up. The best course of action is going willingly, and working something up in the DEO, because you know for sure there is where they’re taking you.

It’s Alex who shoves you inside of a cell, when you get there. Locks the glass door, and turns on some red sun lamps. You bite your mouth at the idea of it. They are very scared of you; they keep finding ways to strip you off of your powers.

It takes a few minutes until you hear talking on the other side of the glass. You can’t see them, or hear them well enough, but there’s one voice that stands out. You bitch grin to yourself.

Let’s play, momma.

"Mommy” You use your best and sweetest voice. Kara comes closer to the glass cell, and you stare at her from the other side. You want to destroy this place brick by brick until there’s nothing left, but you know if you’re aggressive about it, they won’t let you out. “Please, let me out. Can you open the door, please?"

"Kid, I'm sorry but we have to understand what's-" Kara starts, but you interrupt her.

"I'm begging you, please, please mommy." You drop on your knees. Tears falling from your eyes, and that act allures a crowd. Lena and Alex soon join Kara on the other side.

"Baby, I'm sorry." Kara gasps, and you watch Lena’s hand squeezing her shoulder reassuring. “You know I want to-”

"You said you would protect me. This isn't protection.” Your tears stop falling, you’re angry again. The act isn’t working. You clench your fist, using all the strength you have, trying to focus so the anger doesn’t consume you. You feel the palms of your hands burning, with nails digging into your flesh. “Please, this isn’t fair. Mom, please, do something.”

"I swear this is for your own good." Lena takes a deep breath, not buying into what you’re saying. Great. You’re done faking either way.

“FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT OF THIS CELL!” You bang on the cell, screaming as loud as you can. You see your blood leaving hand-shaped marks on the glass. Your scream is loud, but the banging is louder.

“Baby, please, you have to calm down.” You hear Kara’s voice trying to sooth you. It gets you angrier.

"FUCK YOU TOO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT NOW!" They look at the blood splashed onto the glass. Your face is burning red, and Kara flinches at the sight of you. Lena doesn't, so you know your best shot is with your momma. "Kara, I swear if you don't open this cell right now, I will hate you until the day I die."

“That’s enough.” You hear Alex’s voice and the glass turns black. You can’t see them on the outside, and you know they can’t see inside either. You can’t hear their voices, so you suspect they’re not listening to your unrelenting yell anymore.

Fuck. You need a new escape plan.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Bottoms Up

George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Fixing up the twins after the Goblet of Fire backfires on them leads to an…unexpected discovery.

Note: FUCK J.K. ROWLING! Trans rights are human rights <3

Warnings: Language, fluff.

Word Count: 1.3k

“(L/N).” Someone hissed at you in the library. Based on their voice, you could tell it was one of two people. “(L/N)!”

“Yes?” You looked up from your homework to find none other than George Weasley. “What is it George?”

He smirked. “I’m Fred.”

You deadpanned. “No you’re not. Nice try, though.”

“Right, as always.” He smiled, dropping down into the seat across from you.

“I’m a Ravenclaw. It’s kind of my thing.” You smiled.

“What are you working on now?” He looked down at your paper.

“History of Magic report. Nothing too interesting, unfortunately.” You sighed and rested your quill in your inkwell. “Can I help you with something or are you just here to distract me?”

“What, I can’t just spend time with you? We’re friends, aren’t we, (L/N)?” George put a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

Your heart raced, sinking a bit, but you put on a brave face and replied, “Of course we’re friends, George.” That was it. You were friends, no matter how much you wanted to be more.

“Just a hint, (L/N), you should hang out in the Great Hall later. Freddie and I have something pretty epic planned.”

“Oh yeah? So do I.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m putting my name in the Goblet.” You told him.

His jaw dropped. “Wicked.”

“May as well, you know.” You shrugged, laughing. “I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“See you there, then?”

“See you there.” You grinned.

George walked away and you felt something in you sink. It was always like that when he left. It was your sixth year, and if you had the courage of a Gryffindor, you were sure you would have confessed by now, but every time you got close, you weighed the pros and cons. In the end, it was never worth losing him entirely, so you never took the risk. Maybe someday, but not today. You had bigger fish to fry, after all.

So, a few hours later, you planted yourself in the Great Hall beside Hermione, who was working on homework in there so she could see who all was entering the tournament. You scribbled your name down on a scrap of parchment and she looked at you incredulously.

“You’re entering?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’ll get picked.”

“You could, though.” Hermione reasoned. “Think about it, please. It’s dangerous.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m sure I’ll be fine, Mione.”

It was at that moment that the twins ran in, accompanied by the cheers of the other students in the Great Hall. Each of them was holding a vial of an unknown potion. That didn’t look good. Due to your early birthday, you were old enough to enter the tournament per Dumbledore’s rules. The twins, however, because their birthday was in April, had come up with another solution of sorts. You had a bad feeling about it…

“Well, lads! We’ve done it!” Fred announced, grinning.

“Cooked it up just this morning.” George added proudly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to work.” She sang, drawing their attention down to here, and by extension, you. You soon found yourself surrounded, George kneeling right beside you with Fred on the other side of Hermione. You were glad it was so dark in there, or George definitely would have seen the blush coating your cheeks due to his proximity to you.

“Oh yeah?” Fred challenged.

“And why’s that, Granger?” George asked. He was talking to her, but you swore he was looking at you.

“You see this?” Hermione pointed to the wispy circle surrounding the goblet. “This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“…so?” Fred asked.

Hermione scoffed and slammed her book shut. “So. A genius like Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by a draught as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion.”

“Ah, but that’s why it’s so brilliant.” Fred smirked.

“Because it’s so pathetically dimwitted!” George agreed.

Fred looked at you, a smirk spreading across his features. “Think I could get a kiss for luck, (L/N)?”

George stiffened at his brother’s words, something you couldn’t place contorting his features.

“In your dreams, Fredward.” You rolled your eyes, chuckling.

Fred smirked, laughing as he added, “Could Georgie get one then?”

“Oi! Shut up!” George scolded, his face undeniably red.

With confidence you never knew you had, you replied casually, “If he wants one.”

Something in him flipped and he stared at you in disbelief. He had to have hallucinated what you just said.

Hermione laughed at the way you’d struck the tall wizard silent with four words, leaving him floundering there.

Instead of saying anything in response, George leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly, lingering for long enough to let you know that it wasn’t just a friendly little peck. He whispered, “In case you need luck, too.”

Then, the twins stood up, shook their vials, and George said, “Ready, Fred?”

“Ready, George!”

They looked at each other and said, “Bottoms up!” Downing the vials in a quick movement.

When they hopped over the age line, nothing seemed to happen. It wasn’t until they went to put their names in the Goblet that a burst of blue magic backfired, sending them across the room and onto the floor. The two of them started sprouting busy gray beards. You chuckled and shook your head, already mentally preparing the recipe for an antidote.

While the room was distracted by the twins’ tussle on the floor, you stood up and quietly stuck your name in the goblet before walking over and separating them.

“Come on. Let’s go get you fixed up.”

“Thanks, (Y/N).” Fred laughed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shook your head.

The three of you walked down the hall to the potions room and you set to work immediately, putting your Ravenclaw aptitude to good use. George watched you carefully, his hand scratching the itchy beard that had sprouted on his face. It was a bit embarrassing to look like he did at the moment in front of you, but he knew you’d get them fixed in no time. You always seemed to.

“Alright.” You ladled the potion into two empty vials, handing one to each elderly twin. “Give that a try. If it doesn’t work, I have some other ideas…”

George drank his first without hesitation, and you watched as the beard and bushy gray hair shrank back into his head, leaving his skin smooth again. You reached out and touched his cheek, smiling at your handiwork.

“There you go. Handsome as ever.”

George averted his eyes, smiling softly.

Fred downed his potion, and once the effects had taken place, he glanced at his watchless wrist. “Gee, would you look at the time. I’ve really got to, uh, go polish my broom. But you two take your time cleaning up in here.”

And as soon as the door closed, it was just the two of you.

George took a breath, building up that Gryffindor courage. “So, um…I was wondering if I could give you a real kiss…if you want. If not, that’s okay too.”

“A real kiss, huh?” You smiled softly.

“You know, for luck.” He whispered, taking a step closer to you.

“Right, of course. For luck.” You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Believe me, I could use it.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He raised an eyebrow.

You sighed before saying, “George Weasley, I’ve wanted to kiss you since third year, yes, please kiss me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. He leaned closer quickly, but when his lips finally met yours, it was slow, soft, gentle, the way you’d always imagined he’d kiss you. One of his large hands rose to cup your chin, tilting your head just so, allowing him to deepen the kiss ever so slightly.

“Third year, eh?” He murmured between kisses. He stopped, resting his forehead against yours. His warm breath ghosted across your cheeks. “I wasted three fucking years…Am I that bloody oblivious?”

“I guess we both are.” You amended. “And here, I pride myself on being observant…”

“Don’t worry, love.” His thumb stroked across your cheek. He kissed you long and deep before saying, “We’ll figure out some way to make up for lost time…”

[whiteheartlight]

Wrote a bit of an intro for my au where the Toa Mata are made into Toa Hagah for different Makuta. don't know if I'll go anywhere with it but figured I'd type it up. Krika-centric. enjoy

.

In the time before time...

That's how Matoran start their stories, right?

Gathered friends, listen again. In the time before time...

What? What was there? A Great Spirit? A Toa?

All their stories sound the same, in his opinion. Toa-heroes and Matoran-heroes and the Great Spirit watching, benevolent, over all of it.

Those are not how his stories go. In the time before time... he wonders when the Great Spirit stopped watching. It must have been recently, he supposes, but then again he thinks this bitterness has been festering in Teridax's heart for a long time.

The stories, after all, are not about Makuta. The stories are about Toa. Or at least the ones that Matoran tell.

Then again, who really gives a fuck?

(All of them do. That's the big secret. Krika, for all he speaks of unknowable destinies, is pretty sure that this could all have been avoided if Teridax was a little bit less glory-hungry. But ah, well. What does he know?)

“He won't really try anything,” he tells Antroz, on a day where they are out on the sea, and the ship rocks beneath their steady feet, and they know each other as brothers. “He wouldn't really challenge Miserix or whisper about plots against the Great Spirit. He's all talk.”

Antroz just looks at him. His eyes are deeply crimson. Fire is life and destruction. He shrugs.

“I think he will, Krika,” Antroz answers. “I think he will, in fact, try something.”

That is all it takes. Hearing it from Antroz's mouth, Krika knows it to be true.

“Well,” he says. “I guess we start finding our place in the new order.”

Antroz snorts.

“What?” says Krika.

“By the Spirits,” says Antroz, with a voice that says he is well aware of his own irony. “I tell you a coup is coming and your first instinct is to start re-assessing your political standing?”

“Well, are you going to do anything about it?” Krika returns, standing straighter, turning his whole body towards him.

Antroz says nothing. He is devouring a pear. It turns grey beneath his claws. He drops it overboard and watches it fall into the water and disappear from view.

“Yes, a new order is coming,” says Krika, turning back to the horizon. “But both Teridax and Miserix are foes with whom I have no desire to be involved. I'll keep my mouth shut, and if you're wise, you'll do the same. All I want is to be left on my island to build my Rahi in piece. I do not wish to be either a pawn to Teridax or protective fodder for Miserix's already over-developed sense of power. Let them fight things out on their own. We will still be standing, my brother, as we always have been.”

Antroz squints out at the sun. “And if it doesn't end up like that?”

“How else could it end up?”

Antroz shrugs again.

“I just think,” he says, “that someday – well. Someday we might be called upon to fight battles we would not otherwise have fought. And on that day, Krika, I wonder if you won't wish you had chosen a side you believed in.”

Krika gazes at him. Antroz look out at the sky. The birds are circling overhead.

“You're so full of shit,” says Krika abruptly, and it makes Antroz laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes and turns around to pick up another pear, digging his claws into the ripe body of the fruit and letting the juice run out. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, what's this about Teridax finding those Toa Mata that are meant to guard the Spirit?” adds Antroz, almost thoughtlessly.

“Don't know,” answers Krika, shrugging his shoulders. “Apparently they're waiting for the day he needs them. But you know Teridax. Probably has his own plans.”

“Yeah,” laughs Antroz. “Yeah, probably does. Oh, look, Tarakava! They're new in this part of the world – that's how you know they're a hardy species, migrating to new places...”

Those short sentences are all they speak of the Toa Mata at that time and, what's more, all they bother to think of them. They don't much care. They were not, then, enemies of the Great Spirit. And Kopaka, Tahu, Gali, Lewa, Onua, and Pohatu – the names meant nothing to them.

But they would.

That's how the stories go, right? That's what they're about. Toa.

Krika will watch it happen. He does not intend, at the time, to be a part of the story.

The rope of his destiny, however, is already closing around his white throat.

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

Krika hears the news of Miserix's death two weeks later. He knows then that he was wrong. Teridax was not all bark and no bite. Teridax bit.

Krika says nothing. Miserix is not the only Makuta who dies that week. He suspects that the ones who join him are the ones who asked too loudly: “Who did this?”

He knows. They all know.

But these are days of survival for the Makuta, and Krika is a survivor, so he keeps his goddamn mouth shut, and rises quietly through the ranks of Teridax's Brotherhood.

And when the calls for better protection come, Teridax offers one solution to his five closest allies, and suddenly those names - Tahu, Gali, Onua, Lewa, Pohatu, and Kopaka - mean something.

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

“I don't want one,” says Krika, and, at the time, he expects that to be the end of the matter.

Antroz looks up at him. His eyes are irritated. Krika crosses his arms over his chest and looks right back.

“Krika,” Antroz begins.

“It's stupid,” says Krika. “What the hell do I need a single Toa for? Maybe it made sense when Miserix and Teridax took teams. At least they might be able to actually take out a couple threats to them - not that Miserix's little team did him any good in the end. But one lone Toa? It's not going to be able to protect me from anything I can't already protect myself from.”

“Krika, I'm quite busy here,” says Antroz, turning back to his latest creation. “Can't you just do what you're told for once? You should be pleased. My pair is already entertaining. They spar all day and the red one yells every time he speaks.”

“I don't want one,” repeats Krika, feeling the small, feathery protrusions on the back of his spine raise with irritation. “I don't need one. It's asinine. I'm going home to my work and I wish to be left alone.”

Antroz looks up at him again. In these days, he is a sight to behold. Clean red colors with sweeping black lines, his mask painted with soft, noble markings, his body strong and tall and sure of itself.

Back in these days, they have nothing to fear. The present is thousands of years away. Today, they are young, and the Swamp has not changed them. And hatred and cruelty and despair – well. These are things that have only begun to change them.

Antroz turns back to his Rahi, stroking its stomach as he takes a sample from its side. “Krika, let's not pretend to be fools. Not you and I. We both know that this is not about protection. They are status symbols. You are rising in the ranks of the Makuta, my brother. Now that you have inherited your new country, you are almost as powerful and respected as I. And so, while Miserix and Teridax take six each for themselves, I take two, and you, like some of our other siblings – ”

“Fools the lot of them,” snarls Krika.

“Take one,” says Antroz coolly. “Take one like you were told. Because with each Toa we make into a Hagah, the more the Matoran come to see us as greater than the Toa. We are becoming, Krika, the most powerful species in creation. And these Toa are special. That is why Teridax had them dug from the ocean. Take one. Just the one. Command a legend and watch as the Matoran transfer their love for the Toa to their love for you.”

“I don't care,” says Krika, “about the love of the goddamn Matoran.”

“Then you are not playing the game right today, brother,” answers Antroz quietly, tinkering with his Rahi, his eyes already distracted by his passion for his creation. “That's not like you. Don't be foolish. Go. I've had enough of you... and I am technically in charge of you, aren't I, Krika?”

He digs his claws into the wall for a second, aching to say more. Aching to protest. He doesn't take orders from anyone but Miserix himself. Or Teridax now, he supposes.

But Antroz is right.

Krika is someone who is learning how to play these games right.

So he does what he always does: he takes what comes at him and he lies in wait.

Just for now. Just for now. He lies in wait.

“Fine,” he says, stalking out of the room. “But I don't want one. I'm not going to be nice to it.”

“Noted,” answers Antroz, already forgetting what they were talking about as he loses himself in his experimentation and building. Ah, he is a creature of passion in these days, and he does not know the taste of real fear.

Krika wanders into the other room, where silver canisters await him in silence, still as dead things.

He brushes condensation from the surface of the one closest at hand. The sleeping face of a Toa Mata looks back at him.

No, check that.

Not a Toa Mata. Not now. Not anymore.

“Looks like you and I are stuck with each other,” murmurs Krika, releasing the lid of the tomb where this Toa has slept for thousands of years, disturbed only by Teridax's command. “Wake up, then, Toa Hagah.”

And Mata Kopaka opens his eyes.

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Eleven

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Eleven: Soulmates

The summer afternoon drifted by peacefully as Luka and Adrien sat up on the deck of the Liberty, basking in the warmth of the sun.

Luka was trying to figure out the bridge to the song he was writing about Adrien while Adrien lounged in a nearby deckchair reading Sailor Moon.

Luka just so happened to look up and find tears streaming down Adrien’s cheeks.

“Hey. You all right?” he called in concern.

“Oh. Sorry,” Adrien chuckled sheepishly, swiping at the tear tracks. “I’m fine. Just thinking too much and being overly sentimental.”

Luka set aside his violin and pulled his chair over next to Adrien’s.

“Hey.” He rested a hand on Adrien’s forearm. “Don’t dismiss your feelings like that. That’s your father talking, and he’s wrong.”

Adrien’s gaze dropped to the manga in his lap. “It doesn’t feel like he’s wrong, though. I feel silly.”

“Talk to me?” Luka urged gently, trying not to press too hard.

It was a fine line to walk between supportive and pushy with Adrien. He wanted Adrien to open up to him on his own terms, because Adrien genuinely wanted to confide in him.

It was difficult, however, because Adrien was used to bowing to others’ demands, and Luka didn’t want to accidentally force Adrien into speaking because Adrien thought that that was what Luka wanted.

Adrien was a people pleaser and likely to steamroll over his own boundaries if he thought it would make others happy.

“Only if you want to talk about it,” Luka added softly, giving Adrien’s arm a squeeze. “I’m here for you, okay?”

Adrien bit his lip and turned to gauge Luka’s reaction. “…Do you… Do you believe in soulmates?”

Luka blinked and thought about the question for a moment before answering honestly. “I think they’re a lovely idea. It’s nice to think that, out there somewhere, there’s someone made especially for you…but I don’t actually think the world works that way.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, expression carefully neutral. “Why is that…do you think?”

Luka shrugged. “I’m also kind of a rebel. I don’t like it when other people make decisions for me, so I don’t really like the idea of the universe setting me up with someone without my consent. The choice of a life-mate is probably the most important decision you can make; I want some say in that.”

“Oh,” Adrien repeated, considering Luka’s points. “I mean…I can see that, but…what makes you think that they don’t exist?”

“Life experience,” Luka answered with a sheepish smile. “I’ve been in love a couple times, and there have been a few different people I could see making a life with. I read somewhere once that there were maybe twenty different people that any given person could be compatible with, and I think that’s true. I mean, off the top of my head, I can think of two people I’d consider as ‘soulmates’ for myself.”

Adrien’s expression darkened. He could easily guess that one of Luka’s potential “soulmates” was Marinette. The other, he suspected, was XY, and the thought made his stomach roil with jealousy and hurt.

“I think the idea of soulmates is nice,” Luka continued, missing the shift in Adrien’s mood, “but I don’t believe in them. I like to think that I make my own decisions. Besides, what about people who aren’t interested in romance or relationships? Do they just not have soulmates or are their soulmates more of a queerplatonic arrangement or…?”

Luka trailed off as he noted the sour look cutting into Adrien’s face. “I’m sorry. Was that the wrong answer?”

Adrien’s head jerked up. “What?”

“Sorry,” Luka repeated. “I didn’t mean to try to shove my views down your throat. And I could totally be wrong. I’m certainly not some kind of supreme deity or anything, so who am I to say that there’s no such thing as soulmates? I didn’t mean to insult you if you believe in soulmates.”

Adrien shook his head, waving away Luka’s concern. “No. It’s fine. You didn’t insult me. I just…”

He bit the inside of his lips, eyes tracing the picture on the manga cover in his lap. “I used to think that Ladybug was my soulmate. I mean…we were supposed to be ‘two halves of the same whole’ and all that, but…”

He shook his head again, a dark smile tugging at his lips. “It was just wishful thinking. She was never interested in me like that, and the truth is that the previous Guardian just randomly picked the two of us, so it’s not like it was some grand plan of the universe or anything. It was just luck and coincidence. I was fooling myself.”

“Adrien…” Luka whispered, tightening his hold on Adrien’s forearm.

Adrien looked up and slapped on a fake grin. “Besides, there’s no hope for a relationship with her now that it turns out my father was our arch nemesis this whole time. I’m a complete failure as a hero, Luka. I was living under the same roof as Papillon, and I had no idea for half a decade. There’s no way—”

“—Stop,” Luka commanded, standing and pulling Adrien to his feet as well.

The Sailor Moon manga tumbled to the deck, pages flapping.

“Just stop, okay?” Luka tugged Adrien into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“Stop and breathe and quit being so mean to yourself,” Luka instructed.

The tension quickly flowed out of Adrien’s body, and he melted into the embrace.

“Marinette would never rule you out as a romantic partner just because of your father,” Luka stressed, wishing he could make Adrien see reason. “And you’re not a failure as a hero. How many times do I have to tell you how amazing you are?”

“At least once more,” Adrien chuckled mirthlessly into Luka’s chest.

“You’re amazing, Adrien,” Luka insisted. “If Plagg were here, he’d say the same thing. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know about your father. How could you know when he always kept himself shut up like he did? You hardly saw the guy. No one can blame you for what happened. Marinette certainly doesn’t.”

Adrien nodded lethargically. “Yeah. I know. I just…it’s hard not to be down on myself.”

“Yeah,” Luka whispered. “Yeah, I know, but try to hang in there and think positive.”

Adrien made a halfhearted noise of agreement.

Luka squeezed tighter. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a magnificent person, P5, and, someday, you’re going to meet someone amazing who sees how special you are.”

“…Like how you do?” Adrien inquired, pulling back just enough to catch Luka’s reaction.

Surprise flitted across Luka’s face and was then replaced by a warm smile. “Yeah. Just like how I do.”

Adrien laughed, resting his head back on Luka’s shoulder. “No one sees the good in me like you do, Orpheus.”

Luka gave in and indulged himself a little by resting his head on top of Adrien’s. “In that case, I’ll be your soulmate, if you want. I mean, if no one else is vying for the position.”

“The job’s yours if you want it,” Adrien replied in a way that implied that he thought no one in their right mind would want the position.

“It’s funny how, just a month ago, I had fans willing to literally maim and kill for a chance to get close to me…but, now, no one’s interested,” he mused.

Luka shook his head. “Well, now you know who your true friends are, at least.”

“There’s not a lot of people left standing,” Adrien observed glumly.

“But the ones who are are good ones.” Luka tried to help Adrien shift his perspective. “You’ve got Nino and Alya…Chloé, Kagami, Wayem, Marinette, Rose, Juleka�� And your classmates are sticking by you, aren’t they? The people who really know you are still on your side.”

“…Yeah,” Adrien agreed, slowly warming to the idea. “I guess you’re right…. And there’s you. I haven’t lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” Luka promised. “…Maybe we need to have some of your friends over. I know you call and text and go places to hang out with them, but you’ve been here almost three weeks, and you haven’t had anyone over yet. You should call Nino and have bro time.”

Adrien looked up again. “Really? That would be okay?”

Luka laughed. “You see how people regularly wander in and out of this houseboat. Do you think anyone would care if you had some friends over?”

Adrien considered this for a moment. “…No?”

Luka nodded. “No. No one would care. You should see if Nino’s doing anything and have him over to hang out.”

Adrien bit his lip. “Would you hang out with us too?”

Luka shrugged. “If you want me there.”

A bright smile stretched across Adrien’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like if we could all spend time together. I’d like you to get to know my friends better.”

Luka’s eyes widened as he was pleasantly surprised by Adrien’s words. “Yeah. I’d…I’d like that too.”

“I mean, you should know them if I’m going to marry you someday,” Adrien teased, pulling away with a wink.

Luka choked. “What?”

“You know. Since you’ve volunteered to be my soulmate.” Adrien scooped up his book and stuck out his tongue as he started to make his way back below deck.

Luka stared after him for a good minute as all kinds of metaphorical fireworks went off.

It killed him when Adrien flirted.

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 13, Section 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

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———————————

I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

———————————

Chapter 13: The Desert Palace (con’t)

A cacophony of noises echoed from around the front gate.

Innes and his force had started to move. The enemy soldiers were being even louder than usual. In their eyes, Eirika’s army, at a severe disadvantage, must appear to have attacked with the resolve to sacrifice themselves in battle.

Joshua led Eirika’s group around to the east side of the palace. With them were just Seth, L’Arachel, and a few others, making up a force of only ten soldiers. Though they knew that this passageway would be lightly guarded, it didn’t seem possible that they’d be able to lead a successful attack with such few numbers… Eirika was unsure, but Joshua insisted that they were more than fine.

Just as he’d said, the east side of the palace was deserted. Eirika’s group completely avoided being spotted by any enemies, and they safely arrived at a small door.

It was completely unsurprising that the Grado Army had overlooked this place. If one did not know the construction of the castle in full detail, they would probably never realize that a door would be located in a part of the castle like this.

Ross stepped forward and chopped down the door with a single swing of his axe. 

A few guard soldiers had been positioned in the hallway just in case, but they were taken by surprise, and all they did was flail around in a panic, and hardly helped guard the entrance at all.

Eirika’s group defeated them before they could even call for back-up.

“You can see a door to a room used as a weapon storeroom over there. If we take the weapons that are in there, it’ll be a huge help to us.” Joshua said.

L’Arachel started galloping over to it. 

Joshua called out to her, “Hey, that’s not where the weapons are! That’s the door to the treasure room! You won’t find anything in there that will help us!”

However, L’Arachel didn’t seem to hear him, as she grabbed the doorknob.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t locked. It opened easily, and L’Arachel rushed inside without any concern.

Eirika followed after her in a panic. There could very well be a crass Grado soldier sneaking and rummaging around in there. It would be very dangerous if they were to cross paths.

The next words she heard come from L’Arachel were almost hysterical.

“My goodness! This is where you were?! I told you to follow me! You cannot meander around in a place like this!”

‘Who is she talking to?’ Eirika thought it very strange, and peered inside the room.

Several locked boxes were inside of it. The contents were probably the various treasures that had been gathered and stored inside Jehanna Palace.

L’Arachel was standing and looking at a young man, someone Eirika had seen before. 

He was none other than L’Arachel’s other follower, Rennac.

Rennac looked back and forth between L’Arachel and Eirika, utterly dumbfounded, before dropping his shoulders. “Oh, um… Why wasn’t I following you? I, um… More importantly, what are you doing here…?”

“Rennac?”

An open chest lying on its side lay at his feet, and when Eirika looked very closely, she saw that he was wearing bracelets and crowns, and glittering necklaces lined his pockets.

“What… were you doing?” Judging by what it looked like, Eirika couldn’t imagine that he was doing anything other than sneaking into the treasure room to try and take the treasure. 

However, right now, the palace was occupied by the Grado Army. How could Rennac have possibly snuck in here after separating from L’Arachel in Carcino?

But L’Arachel did not mind any of that, instead extending a hand towards him.

“Come with me right now! We will combine our powers and defeat the Grado Army!"

“Hey… now wait just a minute! I’m not your servant anymore! The Grado Army…”

“What?!”

“I was trying to say that I’m working for the Grado Army now!”

“The Grado Army is committing such shameless acts! I cannot believe they stole a follower of mine!!”

“No, that’s not… Oh, whatever. I’m not like that old man Dozla at all! I didn’t really pledge my loyalty to you. I was just employed as your guard, wasn’t I? Yet you haven’t paid me any money at all! Of course I’d be swayed by the Grado army and their high pay…"

“What are you talking about, Rennac? I gave you something far greater than a salary, didn’t I?” L’Arachel warmly spread her arms open wide. 

“Huh?” Rennac answered.

“A life mission! I gave you a duty from the gods to fight evil! And it is a duty more grand than any other! The joy you get from doing good and helping others cannot be replaced by anything else! This is all much more important than money!”

The crown and bracelets all fell with a clang from around Rennac’s arms. He covered his hands with his ears, showing how much he did not want to hear another word. “It’s always the same with you! I want money more than duty, or to do good deeds! You always make me go with whatever logic is convenient for you, and drag me around everywhere…”

“And it was all for the better, don’t you think? Your eyes are so much more clear and beautiful than when we first met. It's because you were with me, doing good deeds! Now you shall do even more! Come with me!"

L'Arachel immediately left the room. Rennac watched her leave with regret in his eyes, but then he looked at Eirika. "...Say, Miss?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Would you like to hire me?"

Rennac's expression quickly brightened. He clapped his hands together at his brilliant idea, and walked over to Eirika. "Yeah, that's the best way to solve this! You're different from that stingy princess! You look like you'd pay me well!"

"Uh… um…" 

"The name's Rennac. I'm a skilled thief. Well, I call myself that, but I'm no fool. I am more skilled in lockpicking than anyone else! No matter the type of lock on a door or a box filled with treasure, I can open it in an instant. My sword fighting skills are the real deal too! And you can have this indispensable man for ten thousand gold! For just ten thousand gold, I will become one of your allies. That's quite the bargain!"

"Ten… thousand?"

That was a lot of money. To someone who was careful with money like Eirika, such an amount made her take a step back.

If they needed someone who could pick locks, they already had Colm. They had no need to pay this man such a large sum of money and hire him.

She tried to turn down his offer, but Rennac picked up on what she was thinking and quickly said, “You’re a tough nut to crack! Ten thousand gold is a bargain, but I’ll make a special offer for a pretty little lady like you. I’ll give you a big discount, and drop it down to nine thousand, nine hundred, eighty gold! How about that?”

“Um, no.. That amount is still too much…”

The moment he was starting to overwhelm her, L’Arachel peered back into the treasure room. “What are you dragging your feet for, Rennac? Come along!”

Even the eloquent Rennac was weak to the princess of Rausten. 

He said in a voice completely unlike the one he had cornered Eirika with, “Please go on ahead, don’t wait for me.” It was the best response he could muster.

“What was that?”

“Um, what I mean to say is…”

“If you don’t follow right behind me, then you’ll get lost again! You have no sense of direction, so be careful not to lose sight of me!” L’Arachel didn’t even wait for a reply, immediately leaving the treasury again. 

Rennac ruffled a hand through his hair and whispered defeatedly, “...Dammit… my hands are tied. Guess my luck ran out when I thought she’d be a good employer…” Rennac looked over at Eirika and lowered his head. “You heard her. I’m coming with you.”

“But ten thousand gold is way too high for me…”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ve decided to get her to pay me someday. For now, I'll go along with her…”

Rennac picked up the bracelets he dropped earlier and stuffed them in his pockets, then smirked. “I’ll settle with this for the time being. Now let’s go, before the princess starts complaining again.” 

[acid-hydrangea]

“I”

There was a boy named Sig, who had many, many questions.

*Note: Sig uses he and they pronouns in this work interchangeably.

Sig awoke to the gentle, blue hues of his room flooding his vision. The quiet morning air tinged with the sounds of birdsong and the beaming of harsh sunlight. It was 5:32 AM. The Fever Bird month had just begun.

They hoisted themself out of bed and opened the window, breathing in the crisp morning air soaking in his surroundings, he’d neglected the rough, coarse sensation on--in--through? his shoulder... He moved to the other end of his room, and upon checking the mirror they discovered that the ‘totally not worrisome’ crimson growths had spread further, practically covering his whole left shoulder, almost touching his neck. The natural ringing in his ears felt louder than usual. He stared for a moment at his reflection, his thoughts clouding his mind like an intense thunderstorm. Eventually, he broke eye contact with his reflection and got dressed for the day. 

He donned his typical shirt with the rest of his usual clothes, he went on his way, considering wearing their turtleneck sweater more often, despite the spring-summer heat.

--

    Sig’s gaze was transfixed on the clouds moving across the clear sky, like a herd of lazy sheep. Their thoughts drifted in all sorts of directions, but he wasn’t able to attach any words to anything he felt... Not even one, this time. He looked down at his desk, Accord’s voice and the sound of chalk against the blackboard fading into white noise as they scratched one of his left claws upon the desk’s surface. 

...What… was happening to him? Why didn’t anyone ever bother to tell him? He’s not a little kid, he could handle whatever they told him. Did he do something that scared everyone? Ever since he transferred to this class, his arm and eye suddenly changed. People gave him weird stares, and tried to avoid him. When his caretaker Akuma found out, he tried every single spell and magic seal he could, to reverse the process. None of it worked. Every now and then, he tried again, rinse and repeat every so often. Fast-forward to the 'incident' nobody wants to talk about, involving bookworm. Fast-forward again to that blonde witch's potion... Ever since that, no... Even before that, he swore he was--

    His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the school bell signalling the end to another day.

“... And that wraps up our lessons for the day! Be sure to review your notes, and do your homework, everyone. I will be here for the next hour if you need help.” 

He just sat there, trying to think through his memories, to make sense of it. Most students dispersed, the sound of students’ papers rustling and bags being picked up off the floor slowly replaced the white noise in his head. Klug and Raffina probably left separately, Amitie rushed to Accord’s side for help with the homework, and Lidelle was off to do her observations on the moonsunflower this week. 

Sig remained in his seat, having wordless conversations with his little bug friends, instead. Asking them about their days, as he always did, mostly oblivious to the events of his own. He’d have been last to leave if Amitie and Lidelle weren’t there. He did things at his own pace typically, leaving whenever his bug friend did.

...Today was different, though. Something felt different. A gnawing feeling that used to feel trivial had grown over time. The deformations from his left arm had been spreading constantly, no amount of Akuma’s rites, treatments, or spells slowed it down. It’d been a year since that incident happened, and a few months later, something else... Two incidents, and no answers. All he had were questions that were shunned away with words like “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” or “We’ll take care of it, so don’t ask too many questions.” All he could do was believe them, because they had his best interest in mind, right...?

Akuma never provided actual answers when asked, only empty words of... What felt like false reassurance,“Don’t worry your young head about it”, while chanting mysterious incantations with paper, “We’ll heal you someday”, casting archaic-sounding spells, handing him multiple charms,

“Don’t think about what scares you, only think happy thoughts, kuma.”

Scary? Was something wrong with him in the first place? Something that felt like a part of him, ingrained in him since birth, treated as a curse and a disease once his hand and eye turned that shade of crimson? It got him in trouble so many times, in ways he had no control, something he was forced to be at the center of. Fate was drawing chaos towards him, like a violent vortex. Was he never supposed to think about ‘himself’ ever again? What could he even do about the world revolving so sporadically around him? 

The ladybug flew away, right out the window, to greener pastures.

--

    Eventually, Amitie left the classroom. She waved goodbye to Sig, seemingly getting the sense that he wasn’t in the mood to walk home together that day. She flashed him a worried smile, and then disappeared out the door. 

He wasn't feeling up to talking to his teacher in the first place, but... The nagging feeling wouldn't go away until he did. Sig stood up from the desk and walked over to Ms. Accord’s desk.

"Good afternoon, Sig. Do you need any help with what we learned today?"

"Something... else."

“Oh? What is it, is something troubling you?”

He... Didn't know how to ask, what to ask...? He was prepared to just be told nothing, anyways, but... They really wanted to know. They were feeling... Confusion, anger? Fear, sadness... Any mental script they had in mind was gone. He didn’t realize just how intense his fear of the unknown was.

"I.... Is there something wrong with me? Am I... going to become something bad... Do you know what's... Happening to me ...?"

They didn't realize how scared their expression was, like a deer in headlights.

"Sig...? Dear, are you alright? Did something happen?"

He was trying not to cry when he ended up thinking about everything he was told not to, gripping his arms tightly. Sometimes, it felt harder to breathe, or think... Was it just him, or something else? His vision grew blurry from held-back tears...

--

Sitting in a chair Ms. Accord pulled up, he didn't have it in him to look her in the eye. Everything was silent for some time...

"I'm... scared. You, Akuma, everyone... You all know things about me..."

He tried to make eye contact with her, if barely, only able to meet eyes with her puppet.

"Why don't you want me to know? Do I need to be fixed...? Is something bad going to happen with me...? To people around me? I've always... been like this... So I don't know. Everyone acts like it's forbidden stuff..." 

Digging his fingers into his arm, he was shaking...

"I don't want to live like this. Knowing nothing about myself... It's so scary. No one likes scary people. No one wants to be around someone who hurts people. It makes me feel like I'm going to ruin everything, someday..."

"... I told you, you all shouldn't keep secrets from him, nya. Lookit what it did to the poor kid...", Popoi whispered to her. What could she say? The cat was right...

"Sig... I'm sorry, I truly am. It was never my intention to cause you such anxiety... Please, try to look at me..."

"I... can't..." 

"Please know, then... You're not in any danger, and your friends aren't, either. No one's going to get hurt just because you're here... You said you've always been like this, right?"

Sig nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"You've always been a prized pupil and friend to many, Sig... That won't change just because of your arm or eye... Those make you who you are, and you're a wonderful person."

"... Thanks... teacher..."

Taking some deep breaths, he sighed... He still had more questions. Many more.

"... I want to know... Something else..."

"You have my word that I'll answer to the best of my abilities, from now on."

Having wiped his tears away, putting faith in her words, 

"... What made me like this? Does it have something to do with what happened a year ago...? I know... you know something... You were helping... him... Lemres."

Silence permeated through the room.

"Akuma informed me, when you enrolled, that your sudden changes were nothing to worry about. As far as my knowledge goes, there's nothing abnormal about your condition that would warrant any worry. As for the incident..."

"... Teacher?" 

"I promise I'm being honest, my knowledge of what happened... Is very little. I only know what it is that Lemres told me about those 3... objects."

"Which... is...?"

" Those... The items, they are connected to a certain item of ill omens... I do not know anything more. He kept such details to himself..."

... Did she think he forgot about the bookworm's book? He wasn't clueless, he knew there was something weird about it. Bookworm always makes the effort to tuck it away specifically when he approaches. He almost seemed to prioritize making sure he never even so much as touched it. He got annoyed when others did, and downright terrified when he did. He wasn't fooling anyone, Sig simply didn't pay the thought any mind until now.

Having almost-fully regained his composure, he stood up, 

"Teacher... If that really is all you know... I'm going to find out more, by myself.", making himself clear, he was finally able to project his voice a bit louder.

"... I'm  sorry, that truly is the extent of my knowledge, but... Sometime soon, I could invite him over, and he could tell you what he knows...?"

... It was reassuring to see she actually parted with details. All it took was... Crying. Stressful. He just wanted to get out. He especially wanted nothing to do with that candy weirdo.

"I...don’t want that. See you next week, teach."

With that, he left. 

Tomorrow, it would be time to visit the bookworm Klug, instead.

Ms. Accord, too, had her own plans for the weekend.

--

End Notes: surprise surprise i’m gonna be uploading fics up here from now on. this fic’s been in the works for awhile and it still is- but i’m really excited to show everyone it! if it’s possible, i’d like to affix art to every single chapter going forward. thank you for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think via. replies or asks. reblogs and likes are especially helpful for getting the word out! catch me on my main blog at @marxsoul, or my twitter at @marxsoui, and see you when the next chapter’s out~

[everybodyscupoftea]

anyone can cook

rafe cameron x reader

words: 3729

warnings: usual cursing, mentions of drugs 

synopsis: college au, four times you cook for rafe and one time he cooks for you

Growing up, your mom taught you the importance of food. For most of your childhood, you loved cooking with her. Learning family recipes, and spending time in the kitchen with her instead of doing homework was thrilling to you. As you aged, you started to resent it, feeling like your mother was perpetuating the harmful stereotype that women are meant to be in the kitchen.

And then you left school early and came home to see the shit your dad was putting your mom through and was forced to immediately take that hard pill to swallow. Perspective was a bitch. Your mom didn’t cook to please your dad, she cooked to keep him happy enough for you to be fooled. It was heartbreaking.

You decided then that you’d not take any time cooking with your mom for granted. She loved you and she wanted you to be happier than her. For her, you could certainly fucking try. It was all going great until the storm that knocked out power, rendered the kitchen useless, and drove your dad’s patience level to its breaking point.

He’d never been that angry before, at least not in front of you. You weren’t sure what to do as he lashed out at your mom and then you, without warning and in the end, without apology. Normally if you were upset, your mom would make cookies with you, letting you use cookie cutters and dirty unnecessary dishes. That time though, you had to figure it out alone.

When you got to college, your parents helped pay rent for your first apartment. It had a good kitchen with lots of room, and your mom bought you a ton of kitchen tools, pots and pans, and other cooking necessities as a graduation gift. Her and your dad helped you move in, and that night, with shaky hands, she held your face in her hands. Tears in her eyes she whispered, “Promise me you won’t stop cooking.”

You couldn’t stop your own tears as you gulped and nodded a little frantically, “Of course not, Mama.”

Rafe lived a very different life. His real mother wasn’t in the picture and his step mother didn’t really want kids, so his experience with cooking was very limited compared to yours. Coincidentally that’s how the two of you met, outside your apartment building at 11:48 p.m. while the fire department sorted out the disaster that was his dinner attempt.

You knew it was his fault because he was very carefully trying to make himself look small. The only reason you knew what had gone wrong was you overheard the fireman talking to the landlord saying it was just a small kitchen fire in 227 and wouldn’t be too much to fix.

It was really out of character, but you walked over to where he was sitting on the curb and sat down next to him, “227?”

His head turned toward you sharply, “Figured me out, huh?”

“You were trying a little too hard to look inconspicuous.”

He shrugged, “Didn’t want a bunch of angry neighbors.”

Which you understood, so you nudged his shoulder with yours, “Well, I’m not angry and I know, but I’m not so sure I’d risk it with her,” you pointed at a lady who seemed to be ranting into the phone.

The boy followed your point and winced, “Yeah maybe not. Cooking clearly isn’t for me.”

“What were you making?”

“Kraft mac and cheese.”

You let out a loud laugh, assuming it was a joke. But then he didn’t meet your eyes or laugh along and you quickly stopped laughing, “Wait actually?”

With a shrug, he answered, “No one really taught me how to cook.”

And here you had a choice. Years and years of stored up cooking knowledge, endless recipes memorized, and a fantastic kitchen begging to be used by more than one person made the choice obvious.

“Well then take this as my standing dinner invitation whenever you want. I’ll give you my number and you can let me know when you’re hungry.”

“So, you’re gonna what, teach me how to cook.”

“Well, we can start small. I’ll cook for you first.”

One:

The first time Rafe texted you was on a night you actually had a fridge full of leftovers, but the boy who lived alone with sad eyes deserved better than leftovers. Rafe knocked on the door a few minutes later and he was dressed similarly to the first time you’d seen him, in sweats and a hoodie, and his hands were folded nervously in front of him.

You let him in, and he followed you to the kitchen, “So what’s on the menu for tonight?” he asked.

“Chicken pot pie,” you told him over your shoulder. You’d turned the oven on to preheat and had the potatoes and carrots chopped already. He stood behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Before you could continue, he cut in, “Is there something I can do?”

You thought for a minute, “You can control the music. My phone is synced up to the bluetooth speaker and I have Spotify pulled up, so have at it.”

Rafe nodded and sat down as you put the veggies into a pot and added water to start boiling them. You quickly went into your cooking zone as Rafe sat quietly queuing up songs. They were from your chill playlist and you appreciated that he was sticking to your playlists, humming along every so often.

By the time you pulled the chicken and veggie mixture from the heat, Rafe was leaning forward in his seat, and he looked excited to see what you’d do next. Reaching down, you pulled out a glass pie tin and looked over at him, “After I press the crust down, will you help me pour the mixture in?”

Rafe nodded eagerly and you made quick work of the pie crust, motioning him to come around the counter. He looked hesitant for the first time since you’d started cooking, and you tried to smile reassuringly. Returning the smile, he moved closer, “What do you want me to do.”

You held out the potholders, “If you pour, I’ll scoop.”

He picked the pot up and slowly poured the mixture into the tin and you quickly scooped the stuff that didn’t pour. Rafe set the pot down and you held the second crust out to him to press on top. He mimicked your actions from earlier carefully, and you couldn’t help but smile. You showed him how to press the edges down with a fork and he did so, slowly. Covering the edges, you let Rafe put it in the oven and then led him to the living room to start a movie while the two of you waited for it to finish.

The pot pie was a family recipe, and when Rafe tried it, the look on his face made it worth him seeing the secret ingredients your mom added to jazz it up. It felt good seeing someone enjoying your cooking again.

Two:

You weren’t entirely sure the relationship Rafe had with his family, but on fried catfish night, Rafe showed up at your doorstep unexpectedly. Fortunately, you had a few extra, so you invited him in for dinner. It wasn’t exactly what he was gunning for when he showed up, but he’d never say no to your cooking.

While you battered and seasoned the fish, he vented about his dad.

“I just don’t understand how a 4.0 isn’t fucking good enough. He’ll never give me any credit as long as Sarah does well in school and plays volleyball, I just want to be good enough.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, and you found yourself tearing up on his behalf. You paused the music that had been softly playing in the background, “Fuck your dad, you deserve better.”

Rafe laughed drily, “I’ve done some dumb shit, this is my karma. I just don’t like it.”

“I fail to see any mistakes bad enough to warrant a parent totally disregarding their child like that. Did you kill someone or something?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “No, I didn’t kill anyone. But I had a drug problem in high school. I’m clean now, but it was me attempting to get my dad’s attention and it all spiraled out of control. Clearly it didn’t work out the way I wanted it to because my dad just kicked me out.”

You were horrified, “He kicked you out?!”

“Yeah, I went from couch to couch for a while until checking myself into rehab so I could get clean. I was tired of being dependent on something and really I wanted to prove my dad wrong.”

“God, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and you started heating the oil up to start frying. There was an extended pause before he softly continued, “He didn’t let me move back in, even when I showed up clean. News of everything had gotten around town and he didn’t want me to further disgrace the family name.”

Brushing a tear off your cheek, you caught his eye, “Karma will come for your dad someday. You deserve only good things, Rafe.”

With a faint smile, he tapped his fingers on the cabinet, almost nervously, “Maybe one day I’ll be able to see it that way, but for now, I just don’t.”

“I’ll keep telling you until you believe it,” you promised fiercely. And you really meant it.

You finished frying the fish, silence between the two of you. It was no longer heavy and it wasn’t as awkward as the first time, you were proud of the progress. Rafe grabbed plates from the cabinet and at your instruction, the coleslaw you had already made and stored in the fridge.

Courtesy kicked in, and you let Rafe make his plate first. You figured he deserved to feel first choice for once. He almost looked like he wanted to argue, but you weren’t about to back down, so he filled his plate and sat back at the bar, patiently waiting for you to sit down before eating.

You fixed your plate and sat down next to him before squeezing his shoulder, “Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”

Rafe laughed, “Thanks for letting me rant.”

“Anytime.”

Three:

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath and your laptop confirmed what you feared, your last bio exam had gone very poorly. It was just one test, but you weren’t used to seeing such a low grade, and you had to try really hard not to cry. Everything in you wanted to go lay down for days and forget about the rest of your classes, but the logical part of your brain texted Rafe to invite him for dinner.

He showed up not even five minutes later, and you decided breakfast sounded like the most comforting thing. You didn’t want to come across as too needy, so you didn’t mention the bad grade and tried to cover how you were actually feeling.

Unfortunately, the music you had playing gave it away. Rafe took one look at your face and the slight slump in your shoulders, and immediately wrapped you into a hug. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting the tears, and he held you tighter.

“What happened, bud?”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to deflect, “fucked up on a bio test. We still have a few more, but it’s not a great start.”

“Which bio?”

“Molecular.”

Rafe thought for a few seconds, “I know a guy who has taken that, want me to see if I can get his notes?”

“That would be great actually.”

He smiled, “Good, now why don’t we get some happier music and get to cooking.”

And you could do that. Rafe changed to a playlist he’d made and sent to you a few weeks ago called Good Vibes for Cooking Nights and you couldn’t argue, they were good songs. A Wallows song started playing and you fell into a rhythm of pouring batter and flipping pancakes, feeling immensely better than when Rafe had first showed up.

You were thankful for him, this boy who had totally changed your life in the four months he’d known you. Four months of baring your hearts to each other in your own little ways. Rafe showing up to your apartment looking casual, not at all how he looked normally during the day. You letting him control the music and watch you cook, something so personal and special to you. It was new for the both of you.

Rafe heated up syrup while you quickly buttered the pancakes and washed some fruit for toppings. For the first time, you made your plate and sat down first. Rafe sat down next to you a few minutes later, plate heaped high with pancakes and raspberries.

After a few minutes of eating, the music being the only noise in the kitchen, Rafe turned to you, “You’re so intelligent and I don’t want you to let this one test discourage you. I know you’ll bounce back.”

“I studied so hard,” you told him, almost whispering, “I knew this was going to be hard, but I have no prior experience to fall back on, and it’s killing me.”

“But you’ll learn. Now you know how exams are structured, and you can adjust your studying habits. Next test will go great, I promise.”

You couldn’t stop it, it had been building between the two of you for months, and in your extra emotional state, you acted more rashly than normal. Setting your fork down, you turned to him and grabbed the front of his shirt. Rafe was startled, but turned to face you, not prepared for you to kiss him.

He froze and you almost regretted it, loosening your grip on his shirt, about to pull away embarrassed when he started kissing you back. Rafe tasted like syrup and raspberries, an addicting combination. Unfortunately, you eventually had to pull away to breathe, and Rafe pressed a soft kiss to your forehead while you caught your breath.

He picked his fork back up and smiled widely at you, “So that was nice.”

You blushed, “Yeah, um, sorry.”

“I’m not,” he stole a strawberry off your plate, “I didn’t want to make a move and make you uncomfortable if I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

“You, um, you weren’t reading it wrong.”

“I see that.”

Your blush deepened as he smiled wider at you. You shrugged, “So, what now?”

“Well, hopefully, now you’ll let me take you out and see where we go from there.”

“I’d like that.”

Four:

You weren’t sure if it was an out of sight, out of mind situation, but your parents planned a couple’s trip for Christmas, and you weren’t invited. Which would make this the first time in your entire life you wouldn’t spend Christmas with your family. You had mixed feelings. On one hand, you were hurt at the blatant disregard of you and your feelings, but on the other hand it gave you the chance to spend your first holiday alone with Rafe.

The two of you were eating hummus and doing homework when you decided to bring it up. He was on the floor, and you were on the couch, so you nudged his shoulder with your foot to get his attention, “How do you feel about spending Christmas together?”

He looked back at you with a wide smile, “I feel like it would be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You grabbed a blank sheet of paper and handed it down to him, “Write down specific foods you want.”

“What do you normally eat on Christmas?” he asked, not taking the paper.

With a shrug, you pulled the paper back, “I don’t know, we normally do gumbo and cornbread and German chocolate cake.”

Rafe grabbed your ankle, shaking your leg a few times, “Let’s do that.”

“You don’t want to add anything?” you asked, hesitant.

He bit the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking, “Maybe we could do a baked mac and cheese. We had those a lot growing up before Mom left.”

“Find me the recipe and I’ll make it for you, bub.”

With a wide smile, Rafe grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “You’re the best.”

When Christmas finally rolled around, you woke up early to start cooking. Your mom suggested a Dutch oven, something you didn’t already own, and to buy file powder instead of trying the cornstarch method. She also told you to make the cake a day earlier so you wouldn’t have to worry about it with the rest of the food.

You worked with Christmas music playing softly in the background, focusing on making sure the flour and oil combination didn’t burn before adding the veggies. The recipe wasn’t hard, but it did require a lot of stirring and paying attention and exact timing.

By the time it was ready to start simmering for about 30 minutes, you had started boiling the pasta for the mac and cheese. That recipe was simple, and you’d been playing with the cheese topping in your own time to make the flavor blend better with the gumbo, and you were pretty sure you’d figured it out.

With practiced ease, you finished it and poured it over the pasta before setting it to bake. By then, it was time to finish the gumbo, make the cornbread, and get dressed.

Rafe showed up just as you finished getting dressed and the cornbread timer was going off. He had a key and let himself in, and you knew he could handle taking the cornbread out.

“Babe, I’m here,” he called out as he shut the timer off.

“Coming,” you yelled back, smoothing your sweater down.

By the time you finally made it to the kitchen Rafe had set all of the food on the counter and he was leaned next to it in his own sweater and jeans. He held his arms out for a hug, and you walked into them happily.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You hummed and reached up to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas,” you told him, pulling away.

“Food looks good,” he complimented, reaching for the bowls and plates he’d gotten out.

You looked over the spread and smiled proudly, “It does, doesn’t it?”

“You want to eat on the couch and watch the Jim Carrey Grinch?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you grabbed a plate, “Fuck yes.”

The two of you settled on the couch, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the background. Rafe started the movie and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, plate in his lap. You leaned into him and let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. This Christmas, while out of the ordinary, was your favorite one yet.

+ One:

You got home after work, exhausted. Your apartment was dark and cold and it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Work had been so time consuming over the past month you’d barely seen Rafe and you missed him. But if you got the promotion your boss had been hinting at, you’d get more manageable hours and higher pay, so you were grinding it out until then.

Dropping your bag by the door, you kicked off your shoes before slowly walking to the couch. Before you could sit down, there was a knock at the door. You considered ignoring it, but it persisted, so you walked slowly back to answer.

Rafe was standing there, giant grin on his face, with a steaming pot of something which explained why he didn’t use his key. It was very surreal and you blinked a few times in confusion before letting him in. He walked past you to the kitchen and set the dish down before digging through your drawer for the matches to light your favorite candle on the counter.

“Go get changed,” he urged, “I’ll get plates set up.”

Your phone rang as you were changing into shorts and you grabbed it out of the discarded pants pocket. When you saw your boss’s name, your heart rate doubled and you answered shakily. The phone call was brief, and the gist was that you’d gotten the promotion and the next day off.

Energy immediately filled your body and you ran to the kitchen where Rafe was scooping out what looked like mac and cheese onto plates.

“Rafe!”

He looked up, startled, “What’s up?”

“I got it!”

“The promotion?” he asked, eagerly.

You nodded, beaming, and jumped into his arms when he opened them. Rafe spun you around a few times and kissed you hard. Slowly setting you back down to your feet, he deepened the kiss, your hands winding into his hair.

Rafe pulled away first, pressing soft kisses to both of your cheeks and your forehead before standing up fully. You let go of his hair and took the hand he offered to you. Leading you to the couch, he sat down and motioned for you to do the same.

“Is this mac and cheese?” you asked, poking at the food with the fork he’d brought you.

“It is. I went on snapchat earlier and realized that it’s an anniversary of sorts. I wanted to make you dinner for once since I know you’ve had a long week.”

“Anniversary?”

A faint blush rose on his cheeks and he cleared his throat, “Um, yeah, a year since we met.”

You laughed loudly, “When you set your fucking kitchen on fire making mac and cheese?”

“A year ago, today. And with your cooking help, I can now make mac and cheese without setting the kitchen on fire.”

Poking at it again, you looked up at him, almost fearing the answer, “This isn’t Kraft right?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, “I called your mom to get her recipe.”

Biting your lip to hold back the onslaught of emotions, you took in a shaky breath, “Right. Okay. Um, I love you, Bub. And this is genuinely the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Rafe kissed your temple before lifting your chin to make you look him in the eye, “I love you too, and as crazy as it sounds, I’m glad I set my kitchen on fire.”

[milos-fanfics]

The Evil’s Within - Chapter 22

Luigi stood shocked at his ticked-off dopplegänger, watching his hand glow as he charged up another attack. Mr. L shot a beam of electricity to Luigi, who shifted to the side, barely avoiding it. Angry that his attack missed, he charged to Luigi, drawing his arm back as he prepared to strike. Pained as he was, Luigi stood his ground, grabbing his opponent’s hands, keeping them away from his person. The force of the attack threw Luigi back to the walls of his brother’s cell. Luigi let out a pained grunt.

“What is your problem? Why are you doing this?” he asked through his teeth, using all his strength to keep Mr. L restrained.

“If you were in my shoes, you’d be doing the same thing,” Mr. L responded, struggling to break free from his double’s grip.

Luigi was both shocked and confused by his response. He pushed him away. “No, I wouldn’t! I could never bring myself to hurt them. I care about them!”

Mr. L scoffed, “This innocence of yours is merely a façade. I know how you really feel about them. How you feel devoid of your true abilities from underneath your brother’s shadow or how you think you’d make a much better leader than the princess. Have you forgotten? I’ve been in your head for years. I’ve seen everything you’ve seen, heard every thought you’ve manifested, felt every emotion you’ve felt. There is nothing I don’t know about you.”

Luigi froze at this. He knew Mr. L wasn’t wrong about his thoughts and feelings. He felt attacked. His mind raced as he glanced down to the Sarasaland princess. “...What about Daisy? She didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

Mr. L looked down to Daisy then back up to Luigi with a shrug. “Merely a precaution. You know what she’s capable of and you’re afraid of it. She is a rather… experienced fighter and leaving her out of all this would just get in my way,” he replied. For a brief moment, his mind wandered. For a brief moment, he felt… bad, but he immediately shook it off. “But, this isn’t about her, it’s about us...”

Getting his mind back together, he noticed Luigi try to take advantage of his inattentiveness. Luigi slowly worked his way to help Daisy. Mr. L would not accept this and shot a bolt of electricity to Luigi’s feet.

Luigi jumped in shock and snapped his attention to his alter ego.

“...or rather… you,” Mr. L scowled. “I know what you want. This is what you want,” Mr. L gestured to himself, “Attention, power… being player one. I’ve seen the scenario you’ve played for yourself time and time again. And I really liked it,” He smiled, evilly.

Luigi shook his head, “What? No! You- You put that in my head, didn’t you?” He questioned.

“Me? Oh no, no,” Mr. L chucked, “I didn’t put those thoughts into your head. All your twisted wishes, your selfish desires, that was all you,” Mr. L smirked. Luigi refused to believe what he was being told. He thought he was being lied to, yet, deep down, he knew it was all true. His breathing quickened as Mr. L continued.

“I just sat back and enjoyed the show, hoping someday your wishes would come true. Then again, you being… you, I knew your wishes would never come to fruition. So, I wanted to take matters into my own hands, and I’m so close! And I know you can’t do a thing to stop me.” His smirk only grew. 

Luigi’s head was to the ground at this point. While his thoughts may have been a little screwed up from time to time, deep down, he knew he was still a good person. His motives, his intentions, his passions, they were all for the greater good, something his alter ego couldn’t possibly understand. “But you’re wrong, I will put a stop to you…” Luigi spoke up.

Mr. L scoffed once again, “Really? You really think you can stop me?” He laughed, “I would love to see you try.”

Mr. L stood, opened armed, awaiting Luigi’s attempt at an attack. Luigi charged a punch to Mr. L, striking him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, having completely forgotten about their shared pain.

Mr. L was also in pain but laughed through it, “You can’t hurt me without hurting yourself! I know you! I know you can’t handle it! You should just give up, I’ve already won.”

Those words juggled around in Luigi’s mind. He did not wish to prove him right once more. He turned back to Mr. L and charged at him once more, striking him in the head, dizzying the both of them. Through his light-headedness, Luigi attempts to land another attack.

Mr. L notices this and charges up his hand again, shooting a ray of electricity at him. Unlike previous attacks of this kind, this one lasted longer than usual. This beam was to keep Luigi off his feet, to weaken the willpower that had suddenly grown inside of him.

Mr. L winced through the pain as he could feel a burst of determination flow through him. He noticed Luigi trying to break free from his prolonged attack. He knew where this newfound determination was coming from.

“I can feel your determination to beat me,” Mr. L spoke through his teeth. Luigi suddenly realized the consequence of his burst of persistence. “Determination is one hell of a thing.”

Mr. L charged up his free hand for the attack, effectively doubling its strength. This kept Luigi on the ground.

“Bowser's Castle, Sarasaland, and the Mushroom Kingdom are just the beginning. Once I take care of you, nothing will stand in my way of carrying out your wildest dreams!” Mr. L exclaimed, a pained tear forming in his eye.

Luigi noticed this through his own, coming to a realization. “So… you're just going to… kill me? If you… if you do that, what's going to happen to you?” He struggled to speak.

Upon hearing this, Mr. L realized what he was doing. He had no idea what would happen to himself if he killed his dopplegänger and he didn’t wish to figure it out if he did. Reluctantly, he stopped electrocuting the green-clad hero, only growing angrier in turn.

“Then I'll just have to find a workaround. One that involves keeping your ass alive. One that involves keeping you out of my way,” he commented. He approached Luigi -- who struggled to get back up to his feet -- and swiftly kicked him in the face in a display of rage. Luigi flew backward as Mr. L bit his lip in an attempt to not exclaim in pain. He could feel blood spill from his nose and wiped the flow away with his hand.

On the ground, Luigi put his hands to his face in pain, pulling them away at the feeling of his own nosebleed. His gloves now marked with a stain of blood, he looked up from his hands to see Mr. L drawing close to him. Mr. L drew a punch to Luigi who rolled to his side, causing Mr. L to punch the ground. As Mr. L recovered from the punch, Luigi pushed himself off the ground, leaving a stain of blood on the cell floor.

Mr. L noticed this, but before he could turn around, a sharp pain struck him in the back of his head. Luigi had delivered another blow to his wicked counterpart before stumbling back to the ground at its dizzying effect.

Mr. L laughed at this, his anger now simmered down a tad. “Pathetic. This must be... very difficult for someone like you. Maybe- maybe we could put all this- this fighting behind us and you could come with me peacefully. Before... one of us gets us both killed,” he mocked, dizzily and out of breath.

“I… I-I can't do that! I've... seen what you've done. To my home. To my friends. To my own family. I- I've seen the mess you've made, the trouble you've caused and you think I'd have the audacity to just... give up?” He realized the only way out of this situation was not a pretty one. “If… if the only way to defeat you is to get us both killed…” Sparks of lightning emitted from one of his gloves, a long-lost ability returning to his fingers. He raised his now glowing hand to his chest, just above his heart, “so be it.”

Mr. L took a step back in disbelief. "You don't have it in you to do something so... careless," he gasped.

“Then you clearly don’t know everything about me.” Luigi’s hand glowed brighter. He had no idea if his plan was even going to work, but he just had to try.

Desperate, Mr. L lunged to Luigi to attempt to separate his hand from his chest. Before he could even get close, Luigi shot a beam of his own at Mr. L to keep him away, sending him backward.

On the floor behind the two, Daisy stirred awake, confused, to witness the end of their battle.

Mr. L returned the electricity beam to Luigi. Luigi took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to do. Mr. L’s ray of electricity struck him just as he struck himself, intensifying the shock. Luigi one last exclamation of pain before it suddenly stopped, his arms falling limp to his sides as he fell to his knees, giving Mr. L one last look. A weakened look that simply read, ‘I won.’ Luigi fell to the ground, no longer moving, no longer breathing.

Both Mr. L and Daisy gasped in shock. Seeing her friend’s lifeless body on the ground, Daisy turned to Mr. L, angrily. She knew whatever was going on was entirely his fault. She tried to push herself off the ground but was too weak to pick herself up with her own arms. She collapsed back onto the floor as she noticed something changing about Mr. L

Mr. L glanced to Daisy, noticing the perplexed look on her face towards him. But just then, he could feel something off, a strange, tingling, sensation in his fingertips. He quickly pulled off one of his gloves to see his hand slowly begin to vanish. He did the same to his other glove and rolled up his sleeves, watching his arms slowly fade out of existence. Without Luigi, he couldn’t exist. He looked back to Daisy, a fearful look in his eyes.

Daisy’s confusion shifted to a smirk. The tyrant was finally getting what he deserved. As Mr. L’s limbs disappeared, his clothing grew limp. His jumpsuit had come from the real world, so it stayed in the real world. The final part of him to vanish was his head. He gave both Luigi and Daisy a scowl, softly uttering the words, “You... green… fool” before disappearing completely, his hat falling softly to the ground.

Now that the miscreant was no more, Daisy’s attention shifted to Luigi's lifeless body. Weakly, she crawled over to him. She put an ear to his chest in desperation. No heartbeat. She quickly searched her person for any spare 1-Up mushrooms. She didn’t have any.

Her eyes began to well up with tears as she picked him up off the ground with the little strength she could muster and hugged him close. Her tears only flowed faster before she felt something poking out from his chest. She pulled away to examine, noticing something in his overall pocket. She reached in and found the one thing she was desperately looking for: a 1-Up mushroom.

She smiled, relieved as she gave the mushroom to him. Almost immediately Luigi took a deep breath and shot up, catching his breath. He turned his head to Daisy, whose grin was as wide as it could possibly be. Luigi smiled back before glancing to the pile of clothes that used to be his alter ego.

“Is he… is he gone?” He asked.

Daisy looked back as well. “I-I think so,” She responded, turning back to Luigi, “You did it!” She stated proudly.

Luigi’s smile grew before looking to the ground. “I don’t think I could have done it without your help,” he said, quietly.

Daisy looked at him as her grin grew softer. She placed a hand on his shoulder, causing Luigi to look back up at her. “That… that was all you,’ she patted his shoulder. “Now, come on.” Daisy hands Luigi a super mushroom. “Let’s go help the others.”

Luigi stood up to his feet and turned around to offer Daisy a hand up. She denied with a simple hand gesture and grabbed another one of her super mushrooms and used it on herself. Luigi continued back to Mario, super mushroom in hand, while Daisy made her way to help Peach.

Upon using the super mushroom on his unconscious brother, Mario blinked his eyes open, turning his head to the green figure that sat beside him. The figure slowly made itself clearer to his eyes. “L-Luigi..?”

Luigi smiled to his older brother.

“Did… did you stop him?” Mario asked, quickly sitting up.

Luigi simply nodded

Mario smiled as well before engulfing Luigi in a tight hug. “I am so proud of you, bro!”

Partially choking from the hug, Luigi managed to utter, “Thanks, Mario. And… thank you.”

Mario pulled away from the hug and looked at Luigi, confused. “What for?” he asked.

Luigi sheepishly looked down, twiddling his thumbs. “For uh… being there... E-even when I said I didn’t want you to. I really did. I just… didn’t know what was going on inside my own head…” He responded. 

“No problem, little bro,” Mario chuckled, pulling Luigi back in for another hug.

From the corner of his eye, Luigi spotted Peach and Daisy enter the cell the two of them were in. He could see the proud smile across both of their faces. He outstretched one of his arms and gestured for the two to join them. Quickly, they joined in, Mario, Peach, and Daisy all giving Luigi a hug to express just how proud of him they really were.

Luigi sighed contently.

Everything was going to be okay.

~~~~~

Chapter 21 Cover

[countessmorgasson]

A Way with Words

Fluffy Julian x MC! Julian needs a pep talk..

Gender Neutral MC

(Based on Julian’s route, minor spoilers)

“Are you excited to work for the palace again?” You raise a cup to your lips as you enjoy a simple breakfast across from Julian. 

He seems to ponder your question, tilting his head to the side while he’s silent. You didn’t mean to ask such a taxing question, but you’re patient- you can wait.

Another sip of tea.

“I think so.” Julian seems to finally respond, although his gaze is intense, never leaving you. “But... I think if it were up to me, we’d be sailing the seas again. We’d have never come back.”

You can feel your eyebrows shoot up at the response. It’s not a particularly shocking answer, but you thought he’d actually be ecstatic to be back at the palace with Portia and Nadia... 

“Don’t get me wrong, my dear,” Julian speaks a little faster now, watching your expression twist. “I love Vesuvia. I love being a doctor, and living in the same town as Pasha, but...”

He gazes out the window of your shop and you follow his stare.

It’s a bright and sunny morning- somehow clearer and more vibrant than you’re used to. Maybe the world just feels a little brighter when you’re in love. You seem to look back at each other at the same time.

“I’ll be honest. I want adventure. Again, I know.” He waves his hand up despite your amused smile. 

You both had just returned from a voyage- and another trip before that one. In fact, you don’t think you’ve even been settled here longer than two weeks. 

But it didn’t matter. 

“Is that truly what you want to do?” You ask.

The truth is, Julian could say the word and you’d drop everything to embark on yet another trip. Hell, even if he wanted to leave Vesuvia permanently... you’d be willing to go. You’d follow him anywhere. 

“I don’t know.” 

When he speaks, there’s a yearning in his eyes. It’s a feeling you recognize in him all too well. 

“This is kind of a dream job- I know that. But once I’m officially working for the palace, people will start to recognize me. Lucio’s gone, and half the city still believes that I murdered him. What if they can’t accept that, and they storm the palace gates? Or what if we’re missing out- there’s an entire world we can see together and I’ll just be stuck behind the gates-”

Julian’s eyes widen as he continues to speak, but you remain calm, sipping at your tea until it’s completely done. Silence hangs in the air when he’s finished ranting, but it seems to have done him well. He sighs, rubbing at his temples.

“Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself again. I know I’ll be happy working there. Especially with you around... I just want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

As sweet as his words are, you can’t fawn over them just yet. You pick yourself up and circle around him, draping your arms over his shoulders in a soft hug. You can feel Julian relax as he leans into the touch. 

“You’re doubting yourself, dear.” 

You speak softly, your lips close enough to his ears to make him blush. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” you say. “You’re going to march through those palace gates and be the best damned physician the court’s ever seen. I mean it. And you know what? It’s not permanent. You know Nadia would never keep you there if you didn’t want to stay. If someday you decide you want to board a ship and take off into the sea... I’ll be right there with you.”

You press your lips against Julian’s cheek, feeling a smile cross his face.

“Oho, so now you’re bossing me around, yeah?” 

You smile at the sound of his teasing. You circle around again and seat yourself on his lap- somehow both of you fitting perfectly on a tiny wooden chair. You peck his lips before reaching up to ruffle his hair. He actually leans his head forward to give you better access. 

“Someone’s got to do it.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he smiles through his words, placing innocent kisses on your neck.

“You deserve the entire world.” you correct him gently, still weaving your fingers within his wavy Auburn locks. “Whatever you choose- you’ve got this. You’re the bravest, smartest and most accomplished man I know, and... I love you.”

He’s had to have heard those words a thousand times, but his eyes always widen like it’s the first time you’ve told him. 

“I love you, Julian.” You repeat the magic words a few times for good measure.

“Have you always had such a way with words?” Julian waggles his eyebrows at you with a goofy grin. Here you were, trying to be a sweetheart. You dramatically throw your hands up into the air as you continue.

“Oh there goes that Doctor Devorak! The oh-so worthy Court Physician. What a handsome fool he is. He’s brave hero who cured Vesuvia of the Red Plague and saved us all from the wrath of the evil count! He’s the actor who’s voice could move mountains and oh- his eyes, the way they shine like the stars themselves-”

You stop when his giggles are louder than your dramatic declarations.

“And look!” He plays into your act, tilting your chin up with his gloved hand. “At his side- it’s the lovely magician m/c, destroyer of devils! Stealer of hearts!”

...This goes on for a while. 

You go back and forth as Julian sweeps you off your feet and you begin to dance around the shop, hips brushing against counters and tables, and long limbs not-so-stealthily knocking over chairs and spellbooks. 

Before you know it, you feel yourself lowered to the ground.

Julian’s hand feels steady against your back as he dips you down for what feels like the kiss of a lifetime. 

Every kiss feels like the kiss of a lifetime with him.  You’re left nearly shaky, looking up to see that he’s just as red as you feel.

“So,” you try to laugh it off. “What does the amazing Majulian have on his mind now?”

He blushes harder at the nickname, but you sense the sincerity in his answer.

“I’m going to be the best damn physician the palace has ever seen.” He confirms. 

You can’t hide your smile- as if you even wanted to. 

“But don’t think for a second that I won’t scoop you up the moment Nadia lets me use one of those lovely luxury ships.”

He nearly topples over when you push yourself into him for another dramatic embrace.

He’s silent for a second, but you shut your eyes and feel his arms wrap around you tightly, pulling you as close as he can.

“Thank you, m/c.” 

[gyll-yee-haw]

Chapter 7

Professor!Jake x reader

Series information

Series masterlist

—

Every breath that I’ve been takin’

Since you left feels like a waste on me

(Bruises - Lewis Capaldi)

—

One month had passed.

After Wes went to your house that day, you decided to stop skipping class. Now you wouldn’t have to see Jake anyway… but that didn’t help much. Everything on that campus reminded you of him. And whenever you got close to that damn lab, your heart broke like the first time.

You were moving on. He left you with no other choice.

But all the progress you were making seemed to be destroyed that morning.

For an entire week you felt sick. Threw up every morning and felt weird for the rest of the day. You couldn’t stand that anymore, so you decided to see a doctor.

You didn’t know what was wrong with you. But didn’t seem too serious. You expected to get out of the doctor’s office relieved. But what you heard in there made the world stop for you.

—

You had no idea how you were able to drive home. You weren’t hearing or seeing anything straight. Your body was numb. And your mind raced. Wes. You needed to tell him.

The first thing you did when you walked into your apartment was call Wes.

15 minutes after you told him, he was already at your door.

—

“Pregnant, Y/N?” He sighed. He was in so much pain, but he knew he needed to be strong. You needed him to be strong. “Are you sure?”

“I just came home from the doctor…” You told him. “Fuck, Wes… what am I gonna do now?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He brought you for a tight hug. “You’re gonna be a great mom. I’m gonna help you, okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You sighed. “But… don’t you think Jake has the right to know?”

“Y/N…” He rolled his eyes. Just when you were about to forget about Jake, he always came back. “Jake didn’t want you around. Do you think he will want your kid? I’m not gonna let you look for him just to break your heart again.”

You nodded. It was a horrible thing to say, but you knew it was true.

“What am I gonna tell people, though?” You sighed. “That my professor got me pregnant and then quit his job, and now God only knows where he is? That could ruin his career. Who would hire him knowing that?”

“I can’t believe you’re worried about him…” Wes muttered angrily.

“About me too!” You explained. “People are gonna judge me… my baby… what am I gonna tell them when they ask about their father?”

Wes hesitated for a second, but deep down he had been wanting to suggest that from the moment you told him you were pregnant.

“Tell them I am the father.”

“What? No… Wes, we already talked about this and…”

“No, listen” He interrupted you. “I’m not asking you to marry me or be more than my friend. We can say it happened by accident one day, I don’t know… but I’m gonna be here for you. Help you with the baby… maybe it would be better like this.”

“I don’t know if I want to lie to my child, Wes.”

“Well, you don’t have to answer it yet, okay? Just think about it.”

And you did. You thought about it from the moment you woke up to the moment you went to bed.

As your belly started to grow, you realized you wouldn’t be able to hide this from people anymore. So you decided to accept Wes as the fake father.

You should be feeling relieved and very thankful to Wes for solving that problem. But the truth was that you couldn’t help but feeling like that baby was a little piece of Jake that you would have forever, even though you would never have him. Sometimes that felt good and made you smile, sometimes that made everything worse.

—

Four more months passed.

Jake liked to believe that he did everything he could to forget about you. But the truth is that he did nothing. He thought about you every single day. It is true that when he caught himself doing it, he tried to think of something else. But he never really succeeded.

One particular night, he rested his head on his pillow and realized that the semester was almost over. He wondered if you liked the Botany professor who replaced him. He was worried about your education, of course. But he was worried about you. Just you. He wondered how you were.

He kept tossing and turning in bed, wishing you were there. He was pretty sure that being able to hold you would make sleep easier.

Then he realized he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you that night. That’s when he had an idea. A really stupid idea… but he just needed to make sure you were okay. And then maybe he would be able to sleep.

He looked up your name on Instagram.

And he found you.

But his discovery only made it harder to sleep.

He threw his phone on the floor. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. Angry. Sad. Helpless.

You had moved on so fast.

And Wes?! So that was his plan? Separate the two of you so he could have you?

But he couldn’t really blame Wes. No, it was no one’s fault. He was right, he should protect you. Now look at you. Happy. Carrying a baby. How beautiful was that?

Jake just wished everything was different. That he was your classmate, not your professor. So maybe now you’d be carrying his child, not someone else’s.

The mere thought of you carrying his child was enough to make him cry.

It was so unfair.

He gave up on sleeping. He gave up on his dignity. He was ready to end that story right there, and there was only one way to do it.

—

You woke up, walked towards the kitchen and found a letter under your door. Weird, cause the bills weren’t supposed to come that week. You picked it up curiously and found your name in a familiar handwriting. No, it couldn’t be…

Well, it was.

“My dear Y/N…

I’m writing this letter complety lost at 3am. I hope future me decides to burn it. I hope you never get to read this.

Fuck. Who am I trying to fool? Why would I be writing this if I didn’t want you to read it? If I didn’t want you to know that I fucking lied to you? I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for hurting you.

When I told you I adored you I meant it. I meant every single word I said and yes, I remember them all, because I can’t stop thinking about that day. About how it felt to be loved by you. But then I ruined everything. Why? I keep asking myself the same thing.

But deep down I know the answer. It’s because you deserve something better. You deserve someone easy to love. Not a coward like me.

And I’m happy to know you found that. I was surprised to find out that you’re gonna be a mom. But I know you’re gonna be a wonderful one. I wish you only the best things in this world, even though I won’t be the one to give you that.

I’m not writing this to make you feel bad for me. I’m writing this because I won’t be able to sleep until you know one thing: I love you. I know it doesn’t matter anymore, but I love you. I did everything that I did simply because of that. I. Love. You.

I really hope you forgive me someday.

Jake.”

—

Taglist:

@lady-evans  @shay-vaughn   @sogothiamdead   @paosesposts  @baby-haz  @twinkleliljakey ​  @gyllenhaalstories  ​ @lexie-wayland  @gaymysterio @tenandcrowley @emilykjh

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn @i-peachesandstrawberries

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 12: A Boy Like The Sun

Lei’s POV

It was the best dream I ever had— the feeling of Sehun’s lips against mine. His touch was gentle— so gentle that I shouldn’t have felt it long after the moment passed, so faint that it shouldn’t still seize my heart and squeeze my lungs empty and wipe my mind of every thought except those of him. 

Sehun. Sehun, who was never mine. Sehun, who made me believe for a fraction of an infinity that maybe everything in life had led to that moment when he filled my every sense and painted my every thought and memory with colors that I had never seen once with open eyes. 

My best dream. My favorite dream. The dream that blessed me too many nights before and after it became a curse. The dream I would bring back to life every day of every week even if it ended the same way every single time. 

The problem with dreams coming true is that you always wake up or the dream becomes a nightmare. 

Never in a million years would I have believed that his smile and his laughter— the luxuries that were once so rare and more brilliant than the sun in my childhood world— would conspire to break my heart into a million little pieces that were too jagged and sore and bloodsoaked by the piano to pick up and fit back together.

Yes, it was my first kiss. 

He was my first kiss. 

Sehun was my first kiss. 

Sehun. 

And I wasn’t shy— just humiliated by his laughter at my expense. I was just humiliated that I couldn’t catch my breath. I was just humiliated by the urge to kiss him again because it— he— Sehun was everything I was afraid of wanting or needing to feel like one of those people who can smile in the sun and really mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart. 

And I was, for a fleeting second that I wish with all of my soul had lasted forever, proud to have shared my first and only act of intimate affection with Sehun because I always imagined that he was so much more than handsome before he broke my heart with a smile and a wink. 

And if he would have loved me, even in his broken joke of a way that impaled me through the chest, I would have forgotten my refusal to date— just for him. I would have let him in every door, I would have helped him climb over every wall because — well— every wall crumbled at his touch. Not even his ill-timed laughter and mockery would rebuild them. Every door was always unlocked for him, and his kiss blew them wide open with a wild gust of tornado hurricane wind, and it would take all of my strength to lock them.  

I guess I have Minseok to thank for saving my pride. If he hadn’t called Sehun to his side and allowed me to run up to my moonlit bedroom where I could reconstruct my defenses— the defenses that I once imagined applied to everyone but the one who already held my heart in the palm of his hand— maybe I would have acted on that urge to rise on the tips of my toes to kiss Sehun again and again and again even if it was just a joke to him and Chanyeol, even if his heart could never swell for me or break for me, even if I could never look at him while remembering the beloved boy who was always beautifully too far out of reach, always opposed to love despite frequent expressive actions, always just slightly out of step, never quite on the same page, tragically never on the same path for long, never once in a million daydreams close to being mine. 

I closed the door on years of memories, years of looking at one person who never needed to look at me to have my love, years of falling for Lucas’s adamant belief that everything works out for those who are meant to be together, years of praying in the tiniest, most irrational piece of my heart that Sehun and I would someday—

Every thought died when I made eye contact with his poster that hung on my wall since his debut. All at once, as I removed it pin by pin, imagining that this was exactly what I would have to do in my mind with every one of his memories if I ever wanted to stop bleeding, tears streamed down my cheeks. 

Would you think that I’m pathetic if I told you how hard it was to be angry with Sehun for hurting me? Would you think that I’m weak if you knew how long I struggled to pack Sehun’s poster back into its container? Would you call me a fool if you knew that I almost left his photocards up on the wall because I wanted so desperately to remember him without that stabbing ache in my chest— because I wanted to forget that he told me I was annoying for following him and that he laughed at my first kiss and that he dashed my every conception of him? 

I don’t care if you would. 

It killed me to lock our memories away in that box. It killed me to unfasten his bracelet. I hated that I couldn’t just close my eyes and think of Sehun as I always had. I hated that I couldn’t trick myself into believing the lie that nothing had changed— that I wasn’t shattered. 

I don’t care if you think I’m weak because I don’t care about being strong anymore. After all this time, I have accepted that there is only one person who has ever held the power to fragment me like that. I have accepted that I am foolish enough to trust him with that power in every universe. What’s worse: I am okay with spending all that time crying in the dark if it gives me the vaguest hope that he could love me someday. 

I was hugging Sehun’s note that came with the bracelet against my chest when Lucas burst through the door, smiling and unsteady on his feet. “Baekhyun spiked the punch!” He cheered, holding up a clear glass of red liquid. “I brought you some!”

Lucas’s smile faltered when he sat on the foot of my bed. Setting the cup down on the floor, he asked, “What’s wrong, Lei?” 

And before I could decide what was worth sharing and what was worth locking away in the box, I threw myself into Lucas’s outstretched arms, sputtering, “Sehun— Sehun— Sehun—” 

I couldn’t say anything but his name. The name that still made my heart swell. 

Realizing that I couldn’t say anything else, Lucas ran a comforting hand up and down my back, promising, “It’s okay. Just let it out.” 

Until the embarrassment of baring my raw emotions overwhelmed the ache of a broken heart, I sobbed into Lucas’s shirt. If he didn’t smell so different— if he didn’t feel so different— if his voice didn’t sound so different, I would have imagined that (instead of Lucas) Sehun held me together that night. 

When I finally ran out of tears that Lucas could dry, when I finally untangled myself, I rubbed at my eyes. “I’m really tired.” My words blurred together in a pathetic mumble. 

“Oh,” Lucas hummed. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Well, if you’re sure—” I nodded— “then I’ll just go back downstairs.” He picked the alcoholic punch up off of the floor. “Just text me if you need me, and I’ll come running.”

“I know.” To prove that I would be okay alone— that I could heal alone— I tried to force a smile. Just before he walked out of the door, I asked, “Can you take that box away for me?”

“Sure,” Lucas agreed before knowing its contents. After taking a glance at Sehun’s picture, he swore, “I’ll take good care of this for you.” 

Practicing my hand at pretending to be strong despite the growing urge to snatch my box away from Lucas and return its contents to their rightful places, I lied, “I don’t care what you do with it.” 

Lucas blinked. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t say so. “Someday you might,” was all he said before walking away with every token of my memories with Sehun.

If I thought that the memories would fade with those objects out of sight, I must have been disappointed breathless at the number of scenes that played in my mind as I stepped out of my white dress and heels into a set of sunflower pajamas. When I settled into bed, rubbing at the headache forming around my temples, I realized that I would never forget Sehun. Only with the greatest exertion of effort would I be able to hide my love for him (and my humiliating utter desperation for his love) behind a mask of exaggerated anger. 

Here’s the truth, if you want it: I didn’t love Sehun any less after he kissed me at that Christmas party. It was with great difficulty that I avoided him over the following two years. The embarrassed anger that would eventually swell in my gut with his mocking flirtatious remarks wasn’t an immediate response. For a while, I was still stupid enough to swoon at his glance. 

I was lying in bed, dreaming of how I would survive without surrendering any more pieces of my heart the next time I saw Sehun, when three knocks sounded at the door. My eyes opened wide to the sight of Baekhyun tiptoeing into my bedroom as if he were afraid to wake me. 

Although Baekhyun and I were not especially close, I didn’t feel bothered by his sudden, unannounced, unsolicited appearance. Spurred by curiosity that burned through my sadness, I sat upright and quipped, “Come on in, Baekhyun.” 

Turning toward me quickly enough to flick his orange-dyed bangs out of his eyes, Baekhyun broke into a glittering smile. “Thanks for the warm welcome!” 

He turned back to trace the outline of the place where Sehun’s poster stood for years. His touch was careful, hesitant as if he feared that the wall would crumble under pressure. “I was looking for the bathroom. It’s a happy accident that I ended up where you are.”

Owing to his devious smile, I didn’t believe that anything Baekhyun did was an accident. Still, I was afraid to say something that would send him away. Forgetting that I wanted to be alone just minutes ago, I didn’t offer him directions to the bathroom. “A happy accident,” I repeated under my breath.

He said, “The party is boring without you,” although he hadn’t said a word since ‘hello’ at the start of the night. “Can’t I convince you to go back with me?”

“I would follow you anywhere, Baek.”

My hand clamped over my mouth after the words fell out as if in an ill-timed effort to contain them. I don’t know why I said that. I had never followed Baekhyun a day in my life— not even that time at the SM showcase when he tried to lead me away from the first Sehun-induced heartache. 

“Anywhere?” Baekhyun winked and melted the block of ice in my chest. 

Stupidly, as if enchanted by his smile, I nodded, conditioning, “Just not tonight.” Although Baekhyun asked for no explanation as his gaze dropped down to his feet in a perfect picture of disappointment, I said, “My heart is too heavy tonight.”

“What if I carried it for you?”

Thinking that he couldn't have been serious, I laughed until I felt his eyes on me. Something about the way he looked at me took my breath away— made my heart thunder as if it wasn’t broken— made me forget that I was supposed to be crying, mourning a dream that I never should have dreamed. 

Once I found my voice, I said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“Somebody else is holding it,” Baekhyun muttered, likely assuming that I wouldn’t hear. He reached for the ribbon on my vanity— the one I wore on my debut stage— and I raced to reach it first. 

But I couldn’t beat Baekhyun. I don’t know why I tried in the first place. I don’t know why I didn’t want him to touch the item I hadn’t looked at since the first and only time I wore it. 

The ribbon was radiant in his hands. As he traced his fingers over it, eyes widening and glittering as if it were an artifact of his wildest dreams, I told him, “I’m holding my heart. I can feel it pounding. Breaking. Aching. It’s mine again, for the first time that I can really remember, and I wouldn’t give it to someone like you in its current condition.” 

In a wounded whimper, Baekhyun repeated, “Someone like me?”

My heart stilled. I was quick to explain that I wasn’t trying to insult him. “Yeah. A boy like the sun.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows pinched together to form little wrinkles in his forehead. “The sun?”

“Yeah. Somebody who can smile in the sun and mean it no matter how many eyes try to rip them apart.” I burned at how easily I could speak to Baekhyun, who was little more than a friendly acquaintance, when I was a stuttering, blubbering mess around Lucas, who was my best friend. 

The stars shone in Baekhyun’s eyes a thousand times brighter than they ever did in the sky. I couldn’t look away from them. I couldn’t forget them. Sometimes, I count them when it’s hard to fall asleep. 

“That’s what you think of me?” Baekhyun beamed. His smile made me smile too. “You think I’m like the sun?” 

“You’re probably brighter than the sun, Baek.” 

Suddenly, he was too bright, and there were too many parts of myself that I wanted to hide in the shadows. Although I didn’t want to, I needed to look away from Baekhyun’s smile. My eyes fixed on the ribbon in his hand, and I reached for it again. 

Holding it just out of reach, Baekhyun looked down on me with a muted form of his sunshine smile. “Have you ever heard about ribbons and soulmates?” When I shook my head, flushing at the word ‘soulmate,’ Baekhyun continued, “I learned about it from my second favorite love story. Apparently, if you give a ribbon to someone or if someone gives a ribbon to you, your souls will be tied together forever. So be careful of who you give this to.” 

Struggling to imagine that Baekhyun was the kind of person who watched or read romantic stories, much less believed romantic superstitions, I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for some outburst of laughter. “Do you really believe in that sort of thing?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “The couple in the story was together forever, so it can’t hurt to be careful.” He pressed the ribbon into my palm. His skin was fire against mine— a flame that warmed but didn’t scald. I think that’s the first hint that I was dreaming. Feelings like that don’t exist in real life. 

Maybe I scalded him, though. Maybe I gave him frostbite. Baekhyun’s hand flinched away from mine, and he looked down at it as if expecting to find a scar or a blister. There was nothing there.

Frowning, I said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

Baekhyun looked up from his hand to meet my eyes. “Huh? You didn’t hurt me. You could never hurt me.”

I wanted to ask him how he could be so sure about something like that, but I didn’t even want to imagine hurting Baekhyun, so I made a joke instead. Grinning down at the ribbon in my hand, I asked, “You gave this to me. Does that make you my soulmate, Baek?”

He blinked a few times, mouth falling agape before a smile broke across his face. “Don’t make a big deal of it.” 

Those words— they struck a familiar chord within my heart, within my memory. I closed my eyes and remembered a golden pink sunset coloring a cotton candy sky, a crown of white roses, a white rose in his coat pocket, a fountain where we made wishes. Deja vu. The memory with Baekhyun that played in my mind had never happened, but still I— I could feel it. 

The last time I heard him say those words to me, did I want to kiss him as badly as I did that night in my room? I must have. Whether it was in another dream— because surely, this was a dream— or another lifetime, those words must have inspired the singular desire to bridge all distance between us. 

The dream prompted me to take the first step toward him— the first step I had ever taken in my life— ribbon still in hand, and I would have brushed my lips against his in pursuit of some cosmic miracle if he didn’t wheeze, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” 

My eyes, which I must have closed in preparation for some eclipse, opened to the sight of Baekhyun’s eyes swimming in tears. I would have done anything to take that look from his face, even if it was a figment of a dream turned nightmare. Leaping away (despite my persisting desire to cling to him) because I knew I was accidentally the source of his tears, I opened my mouth to apologize. 

Baekhyun didn’t give me a chance, though. Gnawing at his lips as if he was afraid that I would try again to kiss them, he bowed to me. “I’m sorry, Lei. There’s something really important that I have to take care of. Don’t—” A tear streamed down his cheek— “If we’re dreaming, don’t forget me when we wake up.” 

Before I could promise that I wouldn’t, he bolted out the door without glancing back. He was gone just as suddenly as he appeared. And I missed him. I miss him. 

Maybe Baekhyun knew how to carry others’ broken hearts, and maybe he didn’t need permission to do so. After he left, and I settled back under my blankets, the ache in my chest was almost gone. 

I fell into dreams about him— laughing down by some lake, arguing in some darkened corner of an SM banquet hall, talking by the side of some pool, driving through my hometown late at night with the sunroof down, tossing coins into a wishing fountain, stumbling into his arms at a party where we matched from head to toe. Dreams— maybe they’re memories from another life. Maybe I woke the next morning, haunted by the hope that I loved Baekhyun in another life and that maybe, someday, if I did everything right, I would get to live that life again. 

I dreamed of Baekhyun, burned as I wondered how I would ever face him, squirmed as I debated whether he was in real life anything like he was in dreams. 

And then I remembered the dangers of wasting one’s life dwelling on dreams— even the best ones. And I learned to be content with his mischievous glittering smiles and the memory of the stars in his eyes. And I never quite packed it away— the hope that there would be a time for him someday. 

Of course, I think I forgot just about everything when I saw him again— the one who could send me falling with just a glance. 

Sehun. 

Maybe my heart was mine, but that was only due to the force with which I held it whenever Sehun stood too close, calling it to him without words. That was only due to the scowl that I sculpted onto my face whenever the white-hot sting of his laughter wasn’t a distant enough memory. 

And even then, if I’m really honest, if I hold nothing back, I’ll admit that my heart was secretly (not-so-secretly) his all that time.

[diavolodigitale]

Righteous Man's Choice

I just needed a way to rant about this goddamn quest that ruins the vicar’s personality, okay? I could’ve just complained somewhere in the comments but instead I chose to write a story that is 20 pages long. And you know what? It has romance in it just because. I didn’t even like Max that much, but my own fanfic changed my mind (now that I am typing it, I truly reazlize how ridiculous it sounds ). 

The events in the story are happening during and after the quest "The Empty Man".

Genres: romance, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Flirting, Dialogue Heavy, Arguing, One Shot, Philosophy

Pairing: m!Captain/Vicar Max

Characters: m!Captain, vicar Max, Felix Millstone, Parvati Holcomb, Nyoka, Ellie Fenhill

Rating: M for Mexplicit language or something

Time span: SPORADIC MOVEMENT - before finding Reginald Chaney in Fallbrook ONE STEP AHEAD - still before DEVIL IN THE DETAIL - after dealing with Reginald AS THE TABLES TURN - immediately after the Vision Quest in the hermit's meditation chamber BATTLE FOR THE SUN - after you finish the quest TO ALL OF YOU - after you finish the quest

SPORADIC MOVEMENT

“Hey, Max, got a sec?” asked the captain, peeping into vicar’s room.

“Sure, captain. What is it?” said the vicar and put away the book he was perusing.

“In regards to that favor you asked of me…” began the captain awkwardly and stepped inside. “Since we’re almost done with it, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor in return. You know, to be even.”

“Whatever is on your mind.”

“Oh, it’s nothing special, really. Just a dinner. With you.”

The vicar looked at the captain inquiringly while tapping with his fingers on the book cover.

“Am I to cook something or…?”

“Nope, don’t bother. I just wanted to spend some time together and maybe talk for a while. I like to know who I’m travelling with.”

“Quite a strange thing to ask for. Are all of your companions entitled for a dinner with you, captain?” asked Max with distrust.

“That’s actually the first time it crossed my mind. Consider yourself special,” mysteriously answered the captain of the Unreliable and smiled.

“Let me get this straight, I don’t want any misunderstandings to occur between us. I… am not interested in you, captain. In that way. Does that influence your decision?” said the vicar, remaining composed and calm.

“Not in the slightest. Frankly speaking, I feel like you’re not interested in any human beings, so I can’t say I didn’t expect this. Guess the cloth of yours gets in the way.”

“Your view of religion is quite obsolete. Having relationships has nothing to do with fulfilling the purpose the Grand Architect bestowed upon me. In other words, I can, I just don’t want to.”

“Well then, now I’m intrigued. My offer still stands, and I’ll be seeing you at seven.”

“Then it is set, it seems.”

“I expect you to know where my quarters are.”

  ONE STEP AHEAD

Vicar Max carefully knocked on the door to the captain’s quarters. He was wearing his everyday blue robe and comfortable shoes. Being always weighed down by the armor on the battlefield, aboard the ship he preferred to change into his old comfortable clothing.

A few seconds of silence passed, and he knocked again, this time with more resolve.

“Yes, yes, I can hear you!” rang captain’s voice from the inside of the room.

The vicar slightly opened the door and picked inside.

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, be my guest,” said the captain without turning around. “You’re just in time, I’m arranging the drinks. What do you prefer? Lager, whiskey, mockapple cider…

“Whiskey’s fine.”

“Will do,” said the captain of the Unreliable and poured the Iceberg Aged Whiskey into a glass half-filled with ice cubes. “I’ll have some cider, hope you don’t mind. I feel more confident when I’m only tipsy.”

“Sure. I’m used to drinking alone, so at this point any company is alright.”

“Hey, stop standing in the doorway, come in. You can sit on the bed. As you can see, there’s barely any other furniture in here. Try to make yourself at home though.”

“It’s been a long time since I felt that way. Thank you,” said the vicar and sat down on the edge of captain’s bed that in reality didn’t differ much from the one he had in his room. The captain awkwardly rushed to him and offered a glass of whiskey and a plate of food.

“Here, some fried raptidon meat and… whatever that is. You are free to refuse if you feel like, just remember that I did my best.”

“Thank you.” The vicar took the plate and sniffed the food. The smell wasn’t that bad. He moved sideways a bit to let the captain take a seat beside him. “Don’t consider me rude,” he said carefully, poking the meat on the plate with his fork, “but recently I realized I still don’t know your name. That is an awful omission, isn’t it?”

“I’m Alex Hawthorn, remember?” said the captain airily and drank out of his glass.

“I’ve heard of what happened to the person who bore that name previously, so in these circumstances that’s more of a title. What about your real name? You know mine, it’d be only fair if you told me yours.”

“I see, you can’t be fooled that easily. Then it’s Teru.”

Captain offered his hand to the vicar, so he had to put away the plate to shake it.

“That is a strange one, I must admit, Teru.”

“Isn’t your full name Maximillian?” spitefully mentioned the captain.

“Fair point.”

“It almost amazes me how easily you agree with me, but not with anybody else. That’s one of the things I like about you, by the way.”

“You make it sound like there are even more of them,” said the vicar and took a gulp of whiskey.

“Many more, indeed,” agreed the captain.

“Are you always so keen on strangers, young man? You barely know anything about me, and yet use any given occasion to throw compliments at me.”

“Not really. It only applies to you, vicar. Seems like something is drawing me to you, but I can’t yet figure out what.”

The vicar took notice of the distance between them. There was no more room to move away any further.

“Your words confuse me. Seems like we have already discussed the matter of attraction, and I politely declined whatever it is that you have to offer.”

The captain faced the vicar abruptly. Ice cubes in his glass clanked as he turned around.

“Hey, Max, can you take my confession now? There’s something that’s been bothering me for some time. I’d like to talk about it.”

“Why, of course, any time is fine. But only if it’s not your attempt to change the subject,” said Max strictly and shifted his gaze from the muddy liquid in his glass to captain’s face.

“Believe me, I didn’t even try. It’s just… I don’t like men as a rule, Max, but I like you. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw myself at you,” —the captain lifted his hand as a sign of protest—“so we can have a few more drinks before you decide to leave.”

“Your sense of humor is tremendously bad,” hissed the vicar, clearly annoyed. He looked at the captain awaiting any reaction, but the latter didn’t say anything. “It sounds like nonsense, but I’ll believe you this time, be it your way. Although I must say, this being the truth, your taste is quite peculiar. Can’t think of anything you would find interesting in a man like me, especially considering the fact that I’m much older than you.”

“Actually, I’m more than 70 years older than all the crew aboard the Unreliable. Don’t forget about that,” jokingly retorted Teru.

“Ah, you talk of that nonsense again, how amusing. Still trying to persuade me you are one of the colonists from Hope? I hoped we were done with these delirious talks.”

“I would be glad if you trusted me, but if you don’t, it’s also fine, I don’t mind that,” said Teru, dramatically raising his hands. “Someday I’ll be able to prove you wrong, and if it’s not today, I’ll wait till the next opportunity.”

“I’ll be looking forward to that. But back to what I wanted to say. I just don’t quite understand your trail of thought. There are plenty of other people here who are more or less your age and who would be a better match. Take your new friend Felix, for instance.”

“What about him?” asked Teru right into the glass as he intended to drink. This made his voice sound distorted.

“He’s young and very, how do I put it… lively. I’m sure he shares a lot of your… views about societal matters.”

“Mhm,” briefly responded the captain, shaking up the pieces of ice left in the glass.

“What I’m trying to say is that Felix, as an example, of course, has a lot more in common with you and looks fairly good too, as far as I can judge. Why don’t you like him instead?” asked the vicar, his voice displaying sincere interest.

“Felix’s alright,” murmured Teru agreeingly after a short pause.

The conversation arrived at a dead end. Max sighed.

“It’s very obvious when you don’t want to talk about something, so I’ll just leave it for now. What about—”

“Why don’t you offer Ellie as an example?” interrupted Teru.

“Excuse me?”

“Ellie. I believe she’s also quite young and attractive. You don’t bring her up because she annoys the hell out of you, right?”

“Come to think of it… Maybe so,” agreed Max after considering it and made another big sip of whiskey.

“Then you’re not so goodwilled after all, vicar. You pretend to be the foul option and point fingers at those who are more “suitable”, nonetheless judging them by your own taste and not by how good it would be for me. You’re just turning it all around.”

Max furrowed his eyebrows and looked away, feeling the tension.

“You made your point clear, captain. Now we better stop discussing other crew members.”

“As you wish.”

“Only I have one more question before we completely abandon the topic of human relations if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, why not.”

Teru put one leg on the bed beneath him, laid his head on his knee, and turned to face Max. The vicar felt quite uncomfortable being so openly stared at.

“Since we’ve established that you’re somehow interested in me, I can’t help myself but wonder… What is it that you like about me?”

“I like it when you lose your temper,” said captain and hid his smile behind the glass, sipping on the cider.

“Seriously? Out of all things?”

“Take it or leave it, vicar.”

“You have my skills, my knowledge and my experience at your disposal, and you pick this? Disappointing,” retorted the vicar and curled his lip.

“What can I say, call me a freak, but a day isn’t a day if I haven’t seen you being pissed off by something.”

“There is not a single thing about you that I understand.”

“The universe works in mysterious ways, Max.”

“So, you do listen to what I say after all,” sighed the vicar, thinking how not all hope was lost.

“Occasionally. Your voice is soothing enough when you’re not yelling.”

“Of that I haven’t heard.”

“Hey, Max, since I’ve answered your questions till now in all honesty, can I expect the same from you?” asked Teru suddenly twitching.

“I’m always honest, there’s no need to ask for that. What is it that you want?”

“Tell me, what do you like about me?”

“Argh…” The vicar rolled his eyes. “Look, I told you already, I have no interest whatsoever in you and alike. Your attempts are pointless and you’re wasting our time with this.”

“Relax, you made yourself quite clear. I just want you to give it a thought, maybe something will come up eventually,” light-heartedly said the captain, swinging the bottle of cider he intended to continue drinking from. “Just for fun. I know you find it infinitely hard, complimenting someone’s personality or decision making, so let’s just stop at appearance.”

“I don’t see what’s so fun about that, but alright. I still owe you, and it won’t be too much of a chore, so...”

“Watching you being obliging really is the best.”

“Can’t believe I’m still listening to this. It must be solely because I’m intrigued by your demeanor,” mumbled Max, irritated. “Being you must feel strange,” he added more calmly.

“Not particularly. Not stranger than being a renegade vicar, I’m sure.”

“I am not a renegade!” yelled the vicar, getting agitated.

“Not yet, not until we’ve translated your little book. Till then you’re just a grumpy middle-aged preacher.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, I told you,” cursed the vicar and drank all the whiskey left in his glass to deal with his resentment. “Never say that fucking word. I would be glad if I could educate your stupid little bunch, only seems you all here are quite far from the point of rescuing, so bearing that name makes no sense to me.”

“Remembering what you told me about your flock in Edgewater, I’m not surprised. You don’t seem like the type of guy who would go to any length to bring enlightenment to the masses. What’s your part in the Grand Plan then?”

“That is yet to be uncovered. If solving the Universal Equation was that easy, I wouldn’t be here travelling with annoying callow youth to find someone who can translate me a damn book that can easily get me in jail. Again.”

“So, now you finally admit that it’s totally illegal and previously you also served your sentence for being involved with heresy?”

“No, I do not,” snapped Max.

“As expected. You can deny it all you want, I’ve already cracked you, vicar. You were a tough cookie, but I’ve beaten worse. Both figuratively and literally.”

“It’s curious how you claim to read people well, and yet have the worst crew possible, assembled by non-other than yourself. A compulsive drinker, an immature idiot, a rusty bucket of circuits and nails, a vexatious space pirate, an empty-headed engineer and, last but not least, me. What on Earth made you take me aboard, captain?”

“Oh, the first time I heard you swear, I immediately knew we would get along well. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Besides, how could I refuse when you were the one asking to join me.”

“There’s no way for me to understand you, captain, but it’s probably for the best,” said Max thoughtfully. “I like this change of decorations. I think, it’ll help me after a few years of dragging my existence in that shithole people call a colony. I’m glad to be here, with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

The vicar smirked and filled his now empty glass from a bottle helpfully put beside the bed by the captain some time ago.

Their talk continued till the early morning. The food was left untouched and cold.

        DEVIL IN THE DETAIL

“Captain, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you. It’s about Fallbrook,” said the vicar decisively, stumbling into the captain in the corridor.

“Oh, go on, I’m so anxious to hear what you have to say about it.”

“I wanted to apologize,” said Max and looked away. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I just… really wanted to get this over with and was ready to do whatever it would take. I thought that only by using you I could get to Reginald.”

“I’m not offended or anything, you use or you’re being used, yadda yadda. I just can’t wrap my head around why you wouldn’t explain everything to me later. I mean, I offered you my help even before knowing about Chaney. I learned everything later anyway,” said Teru at a loss.

“I wasn’t considering it would go this far. Frankly speaking, I didn’t even believe we would find him, but you surpassed my expectations,” said the vicar and smiled bitterly.

“Would you look at that, you can say that, too. I only had to let you murder your former inmate.”

“About that… Seems like I got a bit carried away, captain. I appreciate you not intervening, but something tells me I shouldn’t have given in to that rage.”

“I must disagree. You always hold back, but how do you know it’s the right thing to do?”

“My teaching values patience and striving for self-improvement. The goal of our whole existence is to reach enlightenment and realization of how the Universe works, to solve the Equation that sets it into motion. I don’t think it’s possible to achieve that by eradicating all the people you can’t stand. Just can’t help myself.”

“But you have doubts about your teaching, you look for answers beyond the scope of its knowledge, that’s exactly why we’re doing this whole thing. According to your religion, if your choice was incorrect, the Universe would bring you back to where you belong. The lesson the life would teach you might be harsh, but it’s whatever,” said the captain and vaguely waved his hand. “You were angry and did what you thought was right, I’d do the same if I were you.”

“You merely don’t understand how important it is for me, captain. I was hoping I’d finally found my way. I made enough mistakes in my life, so now every one of them counts. That’s why this situation gets on my nerves.”

“Then I’ll share the burden of your blame,” said the captain, as if it was nothing special for him, “after all, it was me who didn’t stop you. In addition, if your Architect came up with a plan for your life and didn’t even bother to inform you about what you should do, then mistakes are inevitable.”

The vicar hemmed and crossed his arms on his chest.

“I’ve noticed some time ago that you’ve got a habit of saying what people want to hear. Do you even have your own opinion, captain?”

“What makes you think it’s not my opinion?” asked the captain, surprised.

Parvati walked past them and greeted them uncertainly, scared by sudden silence that filled the place with her arrival. The vicar waited for her to disappear behind the corner before answering.

“From time to time I hear bits and pieces of your conversations with other crew members. No matter the circumstances, you always have something consolatory to say. The explanation that I find the most plausible is that you chose bouncing from one opinion to the other as your primary tactics. Speaking with the member of the Board, you tend to agree with their regime, speaking with the iconoclast, you support their ignorance... But what do you have in mind? It always interested me.”

“How did I manage to take such a sly-boots aboard my ship?” wondered the captain with a slight note of approval in his voice. “But, on the other hand, I find it pleasant that now you pay more attention to me.”

“Don’t change the subject, captain, I know it’s also a means of manipulation you enjoy resorting to.”

“There’s simply not much to say here. I go for the better outcome, but if something is against my principles, there’s no way I’m going to do or say that. Is that a good answer?”

“As good as any,” nodded the vicar agreeingly, satisfied with rare display of captain’s sincerity.

“Great to hear that. Did you mull over the thing we discussed?”

“Yes,” nodded Max again, now becoming more tense.

“What’s you answer then? Just don’t tell me you didn’t come up with anything, ‘cause there’s no way I’ll believe that, vicar.”

The vicar dithered a bit before forcing the sounds to come out of his throat.

“Perhaps, I could say that I like… I like your hands. Let it be so.”

Teru’s eyes flickered and he clapped in awe.

“Really? How did you realize that?”

The vicar rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, annoyed that he had to elaborate on the subject.

“I was just watching you, as always. You were picking a door lock and I happened to notice that your hands were extremely elegant and dexterous. For a brigand.”

“Oh, yeah, I had the feeling you like it when I do that,” said Teru complacently. “Are you bewitched by me already?”

Parvati wanted to return to her room, but seeing the captain and the vicar still standing in the corridor made her reconsider. She thought that her business could wait and decided to make her way back to where she came from.

“I wouldn’t say so. It’s just… hard not to pay attention when you use the lockpick so skillfully. I never succeeded in it,” said Max with detachment in his tone.

“Despite that, I still like your hands as well.”

The vicar spread the fingers on his right hand out in a fan and carefully examined them.

“But there’s nothing special about them.”

“They are strong, stronger than mine. Enough of a reason for me.”

“I used to play tossball when I se… was assigned as a vicar to a prison,” said Max, a little confused and not knowing how to react to captain’s words.

“I remember you mentioning that. Did you know that I used to be the token of the team? What a coincidence, right?”

“Yes, what were the odds…”

“I like holding on to your hand when you’re helping me get up after I fall down as I tend to do sometimes,” said the captain in a soft voice, squinting a bit. A sly smirk slowly appeared on his lips. “Actually, I like it so much, that at times I have to be even more clumsy than usual, just to experience it once more.”

“Are you being serious, captain?” asked the vicar, perplexed.

“Do I look like I’m joking? You know what I’m capable of, what’s with all the amazement,” said the captain and hemmed. “And don’t you worry, right now I’m saying exactly what I wanted to say,” he added with the same sly smirk.

“You are so persistent, even though I already told you I have no interest in close relations,” said Max, pretentiously irritated. “I wouldn’t want you to waste your time on some old vicar.”

“Well, you noticed me, that’s a good start. You observed me so closely, in fact, that you already know me better than any other person on the Unreliable, so I’m definitely not the one wasting my time here. And you’re not as old as you want me to think, I know that for a fact. Do you have any other objections?”

“…No, captain, I don’t,” said Max to mitigate further arguments.

“And stop calling me captain, I don’t even navigate the ship. Did you ask my name never to use it after that? That would be typical of you, Max.”

  AS THE TABLES TURN

“What… what happened? I feel like my brains are leaking out…”

Teru scratched the back of his head and looked around. They were still in hermit’s closet and the air was stiff from incenses.  

“You passed out, captain,” said the vicar worriedly while squatting down beside him. “Felix and I here were really worried. Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, of course, everything went just as I planned, under my control.” The captain of the Unreliable stood up and leaned on the wall to keep his balance. “And how are you? The things they said… I can’t imagine what’s going through your head after that.”

“I feel like a new man, actually. Now, thanks to their exhortations, everything makes sense to me,” stated the vicar, being unbelievably calm. Teru looked at him distrustfully. For him, it wasn’t a healthy reaction of a person whose whole life was called pretentious and illusory.

“And you got the answers to your questions? You look kinda weird,” he said, not quite sure of what to make of vicar’s state of mind.

“I don’t need those answers anymore,” confessed Max. “Instead, I finally realized that the questions I asked were wrong to begin with.”

Teru had never seen his face being so peaceful. In any other circumstances vicar’s words would make him happy, but his current behavior seemed too unnatural and at times even intimidating.

“Wait, are you saying… that you now agree with them? But that’s just bullshit!” retorted Teru.

“Captain, you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” said Max and smiled encouragingly in an attempt to make the captain calm down. “I know, I gave you all a hard time, but from now on it’s going to be different. My behavior was unacceptable, and you are the first one whom I want to ask for forgiveness for that.”

“What? What the hell are you talking about? What hard time?”

“My inclination to “violent enthusiasm” made me look like a madman quite a few times. I was foolish enough to consider everyone around me responsible for my sorrows, and it made me even angrier. But now I can see quite clearly, that there was no destination from the start. The world does not obey any laws at all, so what I did my whole life was pointless. Realizing that… brought me peace of mind,” said Max unhurriedly and smiled softly.

“I don’t even know what makes me feel worse, these terrible drugs or your delirious rambling. Stop it,” snarled the captain, not wanting to accept the changes in his companion’s worldview.

“That’s exactly what I said. Now he’s even weirder than he used to be, it freaks me out,” added Felix from the corner he was resting in. “It’s good that you’re back with us, cap, ‘cause being here with him was just… ugh.”

“You’ll need some time to get used to it,” said the vicar, still smiling tranquilly. “I’m sure, you’ll be much better off without my lectures about the Universal Equation and other religious dogmas.”

“What do you mean by that? Are you leaving or what?” asked the captain with apprehension. His eyes bugged out as he was staring at the vicar.

“Only if you want me to. Right now, I’m only saying that I’m no longer a vicar of the Order of Scientific Inquiry. Luckily, that time in my life came to an end.”

“Because you smoked weed and your hallucination lectured you for living your life in a wrong way?” yelled captain instead of asking.

“That’s not what I…”

“It is, Max. I’m in no mood to continue listening to this. See you outside.”

Teru made an effort to push himself away from the wall, and, declining the hand the vicar offered to help, left the room. Without saying anything, Felix followed him, leaving Max alone in the grip of his contemplations.

BATTLE FOR THE SUN

Carrying a bottle of mockapple cider in one hand and all his courage in the other, vicar Max approached the door to captain’s quarters. He took a deep breath and knocked.

There was silence.

He knocked again. Silence once more.

“Captain, may I come in?” he asked, drawing his face closer to the door crack for his voice to reach Teru.

There was no answer.

The vicar tightened his grip on the neck of the bottle. A tiny bit of light could be seen under the door.

“I’m entering,” he said briefly and opened the door.

The captain was sitting at his table, right in front of the huge window with a view over the vast abyss of space. He was wearing his reading glasses and holding a newly found datapad with the information about the Board’s plans.

“Am I interfering?” asked the vicar, closing the door behind him.

“Huh?” The captain turned around and looked at him inquiringly, but almost immediately after that returned to examining the datapad. “No, it’s fine. Is it something urgent?”

“I wouldn’t say so. I just wanted to thank you for your help,” said the vicar, not yet venturing further into the room.

“No need for that,” snapped back Teru.

“I disagree. You went through a lot of trouble to fulfil my selfish wish, so gratitude is the least you deserve after that,” pushed the vicar. His hand was still holding tight onto the bottle.

“Don’t mind it. You weren’t a burden for me or anything… I helped because I wanted to, so you don’t owe me anything. Since your search is over now, you can leave the ship whenever you feel necessary. After all, you got what you joined us for,” slowly said the captain, not averting his attention from reading.

Something snapped in vicar’s head. For him it turned out to be the last straw.

“Right,” he muttered and slammed the bottle onto the tray with other spirits, “Grand Architect knows, that’s not how I hoped it would go. But you want it the hard way, don’t you.”

“What are you—” The captain made an attempt to ask a question, but Max was already behind his chair. Gripping tight to the collar of his dressing gown, the vicar pulled him closer, forcing him to get up from the chair. The moment the captain of the Unreliable stood up, Max pushed him to the table, still holding him by the collar and now blocking his way out.

“You piss me off so fucking much, captain, I can’t stand it. I’m trying to become a better person, and you sit here in your quarters all offended and resentful and ignore my presence,” he hissed.

“So why did you come here in the first place if I piss you off so much?” maliciously asked the captain, leaning on the table behind him.

“I thought you’d want another favor for helping me. So, I decided to take the lead.”

“I don’t need anything, vicar, thank you for worrying,” reluctantly said the captain and turned away.

Having a hard time holding back, Max shook the captain by his collar and gritted his teeth. The leg he moved forward wasn’t letting Teru move an inch.

“On the second thought though, I’d really like to know where these sudden changes in behavior came from,” said the captain, looking up at the vicar. “I could swear you were a new man, and there was no way I’d see these fits of rage again.”

“And what’s your take on this?” angrily asked Max, with no intention to wait for an answer. “I thought it was obvious that a regular trip couldn’t change a person so drastically. I wanted to grow, but, as you can see, I failed. And it’s your fault, Teru.”

“Is it my fault because I told you to embrace yourself and not look for excuses? Or because I wanted to support you in your endeavors? Go on”—the captain shook his head with the air of defiance—“I’m listening.”

“It’s your fault because you…”—the vicar tightened his grip on captain’s collar and tried to gather his thoughts—“diminished my confidence. I thought, my place in the Universe was predetermined, but you made me doubt it. And I fucking hate having doubts. My whole life consists of doubting, and instead of making some of them go away, you just made it worse. What I heard in that room made me think, what if I was wrong all along? That was the only adequate reason why I was in such a state. Perhaps, my destiny is simply my fantasy. In your opinion, captain, what’s then?”

“Then you’re here ‘cause you wanted to be here, vicar. If it wasn’t the Universe that put this damn robe on you, then you did yourself. You didn’t want to be an average worker, and neither did I and many others, so you chose what you saw best. Is it really so hard to realize?”

“But if there’s no Grand Plan, what’s the point? Why would I be who I am if I’m not doing it for some greater good? If the world is just chaos, and not order, as I assumed… Simply agreeing that I was wrong wasn’t the hard part. It spared me from my eternal tormenting. Realizing how it all works, however…”

“You’re making me go insane. Let go of me, my back hurts from standing like this,” said the captain, and the vicar released him from his grip. Teru jumped up on the table behind him and made himself comfortable. “If you want to know my opinion, I don’t think that our complex world could appear from chaos out of sheer luck, I think there’s more to it than that. If you Equation does exist then it’s obvious that the Universe doesn’t do anything to snap you out of the place you’re in now, so let’s assume that you really are a vicar and you’re aim is to carry the “light of truth”. Who cares if your order is a tool of corporate supremacy, we’ve seen worse, that’s not the point here. It’s not what they tell you to think that is important, but how you interpret your teaching. Maybe this religion is far from perfect, but do the words about survival of the fittest or science being the moving force of progress sound nonsensical to you? It gets something right, but getting to the bottom of everything else is your job. If you stop doubting everything you know, rummaging in heretical works so selflessly and adapting it all to your vision, then who’s gonna do it?” The captain adjusted the glasses on his nose and paused for a few seconds. “Do you even get what I’m saying? I already feel confused by my own words.”

“It all sounds much simpler when you put it that way,” said the vicar broodingly.

“There’s nothing complicated about it. If the world were just chaos, our existence would be meaningless, and that’s the last thing I would want. There’s nothing wrong with finding the meaning in not in pointless wandering but in reaching some better purpose. You’re the one who always goes on about how the Plan includes numerous possibilities and ways, so sooner or later you’ll arrive at your destination point. Who even cares, Max. You’re not in the house of your laborer parents, not in Edgewater, not in prison, you’re on my ship so you can do whatever you want, just, for Universe’s sake, stop being a creep. Curse and resent like you used to do or, I swear, I’ll kick you out. I want to see adequate human emotions, not an android with a circuit for a brain.”

The vicar let out a chuckle, but then immediately asserted himself under captain’s gaze. Having his reading glasses on, he looked almost serious.

“And what better purpose does the captain have?” asked Max.

“Right now, my better purpose is finding a better purpose,” said the captain proudly. The vicar still looked to him as though something troubled him and it made the captain feel uneasy. “There’s something else that’s bothering you, isn’t it? What I told you. What’s on your mind? This time I’ll take your confession. Come on, I swear not to let anybody in on what you say, etc., etc.”

“I’ll be honest, when you told me you liked me, I was flattered,” answered the vicar.

“…and then you realized that you loved me all along?” giggled the captain.

“No, thanks the Grand Architect, that’s not what happened,” said the vicar, rolling his eyes.

“Good. It would be extremely boring. So, what about now? I bet you’re scared that I’d want something from you for my help.”

“Don’t say it like you’re in the position to make me do something I don’t want to. We’re all grownups here, and we all know who’s stronger.”

“Oh, seems like you weren’t being bitter about our age difference right now. Missed opportunity.”

The vicar pursed his lips and disapprovingly glanced upon the captain sitting in front of him.

“To cut the long story short, I didn’t intend to react to your words in any way. But your idiotic strategy worked after all,” said the vicar and sighed tiredly.

“I don’t remember having any strategy. What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you didn’t need to do anything special. I just did what you told me to – looked closer. And it was enough for me to realize… that there’s no place for you in my life.”

Vicar’s last words sounded a bit threateningly. It made Teru fidget on the table.

“Eh, seems like we’re straying further and further away from the topic, don’t you think?” he mumbled uncertainly.

“Shut up and listen,” said the vicar forcefully, “I hate being interrupted. I knew immediately, my destination did not allow for you to be a part of my life. My problems could not be solved and it drove me mad, especially when you were sticking out like a sore thumb all the time.”

“What a shame,” mumbled Teru quietly.

“And now you have also become an obstruction on my way to self-improvement. Because of you I’m getting angry all the time, and the Universe is once again full of enigmas I was so close to solving. The only conclusion that can be drawn from all this is that you have to be punished for what you did.”

Carefully yet confidently the vicar laid his hand on captain’s knee. His eyes were closely observing the facial expression of that one in front of him.

“I feel like this talk dragged on for too long. At which point of the confession is it already considered acceptable to move on to drinking?” asked the captain carelessly, casting a sidelong look at the cider bottle and intentionally ignoring what was happening.

“How fucking annoying can you be,” retorted the vicar spitefully, violently grabbed the captain by his chin and pulled his face closer. “It would be only fair if you had to tolerate the way you made me be.”

“Hey, you were already like this when we met,” chortled Teru a few millimeters away from Max’s face. “It’s not fa—”

The vicar knew exactly what he wanted to say so considered letting him finish the phrase a waste of time. Not trying to hold back, he moved closer and kissed the captain, gripping his thigh tightly. Even applying all the strength he had, the captain wouldn’t be able to resists Max’s drive. Instead, relieved to know that the vicar remained the person he wanted him to be, he gave in to the opportunity, locked his hands behind his back and let out a loud breath.

The vicar heard the pulsation in his ears and felt it was hard for him to think straight. He opened his eyes a bit in an attempt to regain the composure. Right in front of him the captain was squeezing his eyes shut behind the barrier of his reading glasses. Smirking, Max stroked his thigh lightly before reaching out and taking the glasses off. They already left red markings on the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve noticed that after you claimed to be interested in me,” started the vicar, moving away from Teru’s face, “you stopped flirting with every other stranger.”

“Did I do that?”

“You have the courage to look me in the eyes and ask such a question? Don’t try to provoke me, young man. In every colony there was at least a dozen people you would flirt with.”

“Did that irritate you?”

“It didn’t. But now if I think of it, I get the urge to put a leash on you,” said the vicar, perhaps, more seriously than he should’ve.

“Like on an animal?”

“Indeed.”

“You know, Max, it’s ironical how the only animal here is you. Look,”—Teru gripped his lower lip and turned it inside out—“you were so brutal that now my lip’s bleeding. What are you going to do about that?”

“You can always ask Ellie for help. She’s a medic after all,” mused Max, pressing on the wounded lip with his finger.

“Something tells me that if I do that, I’ll get in a more serious trouble than this.”

“You’re quite a fast learner, captain. Don’t do anything to enrage the beast and you’ll be fine,” said Max and smirked.

The captain grinned and leaned back on his elbows.

“So… got any plans for tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.

“I was… thinking about moving somewhere more comfortable. The bed would do nicely.”

Teru raised his eyebrows in surprise and sent a long glance at the vicar.

“My weak knee is at it again.”

“You really are o—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

  TO ALL OF YOU

Felix entered the kitchen in search of some lager left and forgotten in the fridge. Most of the crew gathered there, looking for some ways to spend their free time, but the atmosphere seemed different from usual. At the table in the center of the room the vicar and the captain were sitting and discussing something.

“Max, I got a little problem, just don’t get all riled up. This thing… I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said the captain and pouted.

“Are you fucking pulling my leg right now? We’ve been on it for half an hour and I’ve already explained it to you twice,” growled the vicar at him and landed his hand on the open book laying between them.

“Yeah, well, would you be so kind as to do it again? I promise to try harder.”

Everybody in the room held their breath, awaiting the catastrophe. The vicar sighed.

“Okay, listen here. When we speak about…”

Everybody remained still.

“Oh, wow,” mumbled Parvati.

“Oh, wow,” echoed Felix, having forgotten the reason he came here for.  

“I didn’t even know there was such an option,” went on Parvati with an upset expression on her face.  

“Does this mean he’s finally sane and I can persuade him that Backers are better than Darlings?” asked Felix anticipatingly. The question was most likely not directed at anybody in particular.  

“No, honey, I believe this new privilege is unlocked only by our captain,” said Nyoka and thrusted a bottle of lager upon him.

“You know what they say,” said Ellie, strolling past them, “if a man’s being a dick all the time, he just needs to get…”

“Ellie!” yelled Nyoka, covering Parvati’s ears with her hands.

“Oh, no… now the mental picture of it will haunt me forever,” complained Felix and drank out of his bottle while staring blankly in front of himself.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

hello this isnt abt batfam or batman but i saw your age and was wondering how do i survive till 23? i am 18 now and 5 more years is very hard to survive please help

Interesting question. I turn 24 in ten days, and sometimes even I’m not sure. I guess I’ll talk about how I personally stayed alive this long before I try to give advice.

The very first thing I would say is that I am religious, and that worldview makes a difference. I don’t mean that in a “everything happens for a reason” kind of way, and as a matter of fact, I very much dislike that line of thinking. It does a lot of damage, and I’m aware that it rightly puts a lot of people off from religion in general. 

I hold two beliefs that I think are helpful in terms of survival. First, I believe that humans are by nature bad. Counterintuitive in this conversation? Stick with me. Every day, but especially at my lowest moments, I hate the things that I am. In a metaphorical sense, my mind whispers to me that I am selfish, that I am cowardly, that I think bad things and I am capable of worse. I’m hateful, I’m terrifying, and I am absolutely broken. At my core, there is something fundamentally wrong, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it. 

I am disgusting. I’m several thousand evil things in a trench-coat pretending to be anything but myself, and I’m not fooling anyone. 

Well, yeah. Yeah, I’m all those things and more: manipulative, lying, self-obsessed, angry, unforgiving, and judgmental. I could, of course, go on.

Here’s the thing-- everybody is. I am no better and no worse than any other person in the universe, and though I am ever abhorrent thing, I am. I have the same dignity, the same worth, and the same life as any human anywhere. The dark things are part and parcel of my humanity, but although I am not good, I do good. 

I will never be perfect because that just isn’t possible, but I can be kind. I can be loving, I can be strong, and I can be wise. 

Shit, doesn’t that set me free?

There’s a lot more to this conversation, and the rest goes, in brief, like this: at the bottom of the darkness that is every soul, we have one great fear-- if I am truly evil, no one will ever love me. Good news on that front, there is a God who does. If that’s something you want to talk about, hey hit me up. I’ll evangelize on my own time. 

Back to it. My second belief is a kind of understanding about the passage of time, and it’s sort of hard to boil down into a few sentences, but I’ll try my best. I believe in a grand struggle between good and evil. I know the beginning of that struggle. I know the end of that struggle: that good will win. I am a part of the middle. 

I see my role in the universe as extraordinary small but absolutely necessary. I have a two-fold purpose-- love God, love humans. I interpret both as a call to help others in any way I can, and I think in the way my life has worked out so far, that’s really the most important thing keeping me alive. 

I see all of this through the frame of my religion, but I would argue that everything I’ve said so far is applicable outside of that frame, because a lot of folks get to the same place from a fully secular point of view. I cannot be perfect. I should care about and fight for other people. That’s really all we’re working from here. 

A few years back, when people asked me this question-- how do you stay alive?-- I used to answer “spite,” and that’s not untrue. I am a very angry person, and the grand majority of that anger is directed at what I perceive as unjust acts. I have a deep-seated hatred of establishments (including the established church), and you’d be shocked at how much of a motivator that can be. 

I grew up in an environment that was very intentional in teaching me to identify injustice. Though I have radically departed from many of the teachings of my childhood, the part about fighting for others was something I learned at day one, and that bit has stuck around. For the most part, I grew up in an environment where everyone was on the same page about it. 

And theeeeeeen I went to undergrad. Hello, Texas A&M. I hit campus as an 18 year old fully incapacitated by anxiety. I was the kind of person who didn’t-- in fact couldn’t-- speak in front of others. I had always lived my life in a way that minimized myself, because if I never spoke, if I never disagreed, if I never drew attention, I would never make anyone angry. I knew from experience that angry people hurt me, and I was afraid of pain. 

Then I experienced the absolute shenaniganry of conservative Texans. The culture shock sent me to space and back, and on the return trip I decided that I couldn’t be quiet anymore. 

I learned to speak my freshman year so that I could scream FUCK YOU. It was incredibly painful, and I can’t tell you exactly how I managed it other than I was angry, and I didn’t want to lose. 

I fought a similar battle on my homefront against parents that didn’t know how to deal with a daughter that disagreed, or even worse, a daughter that wasn’t okay. I wasn’t a perfect child anymore. I knew I had anxiety, I knew I was depressed, and we all knew who I blamed for that. They hadn’t been the perfect parents they thought they were. 

I found myself growing, little by little, into a person that could write and argue and hold her ground. That’s personal growth for sure, but it didn’t necessarily help my mental health. As a matter of fact, my health declined all through undergrad, and in my third and final year, I cracked.

I was desperate. I was isolated. I was flooded by fear and despair, and I was falling apart. I don’t remember huge chunks of undergrad because I was so depressed that the memories didn’t stick, but I do remember my tipping point.

It was something small. The ceiling fan in my bedroom was broken. The lighting chain worked fine, but if anyone pulled the fan chain, the whole thing would stop working. I mixed up which chain was which, pulled the wrong cord, and broke it for the fourth time. 

For some reason, that was it. I lay down on my floor and cried for an hour, and while I did, my mind went to, as the kids say, a dark place. Finally, I called my mom and begged for psychiatric medication, something I had always been afraid to ask for. At the time, my parents believed that antidepressants were overprescribed, and they mocked parents that let their children take them. 

At around the same time, I was deciding what to do with my life. I was about to graduate, and I had always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. Instead, everyone in my life pushed me towards law school. I didn’t know what to do, but I began fantasizing, not about going to law school exactly, but about being the kind of person that could go to law school. 

I knew that law school would be entail public speaking and constant conflict and the kind of work that would be hard for a person who sometimes couldn’t leave her bed. I wanted to be someone who could do all of that, but I didn’t believe I was.

Enter Donald Trump. Post-November 2016, I struggled to understand how something like that could happen, and I watched everyone else deal with it too. I began confused, moved to distraught, then returned to what I always am: angry.

January 2017 was the inauguration and shortly afterwards, the “Muslim ban.” I read the news on my bedroom floor, and there was one specific part that stuck out to me. There were pictures of lawyers flooding the airports. There was a court case headed for SCOTUS.

I suddenly realized that one group-- one very select group-- was doing what I was powerless to accomplish. I hated establishments, and there was one group that could challenge and change them. Some people could fight in the way I wanted to, and those people were lawyers.

I have a very distinct memory of looking into the bathroom mirror of my third-year apartment and thinking, “I will be miserable for the rest of my life, no matter what I do or what career I pick. I might as well be a miserable lawyer.”

So I took my antidepressants and I went to law school. I’m not going to rehash everything that happened there in this particular post, because in this topic, I don’t think it matters. The relevant part is that I went, and I had my reason why.

Sure as hell can tell you that law school wasn’t good for my health. The last three years have been, in terms of sheer stress and despair, the worst of my life. I picked up a self-harm habit, endured consistent humiliation, cycled through six different antidepressants, had horrible relationships, and developed a psychotic disorder. Don’t get me wrong, there were good things too. I met people that are important me, and beyond that, I grew. 

I know that 18 year old me would be absolutely flabbergasted by the woman I am now, cracks and flaws included. I wouldn’t say I’m healthy or okay, but I am more healthy and more okay. I’m coming out of this mess with the institutional power I wanted, and now I get to decide what to do with it. 

I was wrong three years ago when I looked in that bathroom mirror. I know now that I won’t be miserable for the rest of my life. I’m going to be happy someday, and to the parts of me that say otherwise: fuck you. I’ve learned to say it now. 

I graduated law school this week, and this month, I’ve felt better than I ever have before. I’m singing again, I dropped two medications, and suddenly, everything is so, so funny. I’ve been laughing so hard my face hurts the day after. 

This is a huge turning point in my life, so I’ve been meditating on my past. I’ve come to the conclusion that in most of the ways that matter, I won. My family has been forced to accept what I am. I became the person I wanted to be, even though I thought I wasn’t capable of that. 

I know for sure that there will be times in my life where I hit rock bottom again, and that’s not gonna be fun. It’s likely that with my mental health issues, I will always have to work harder than my peers to get the same results. That’s unfair. 

I also know that high points exist, and I will have them. I am having them, and I will again. 

I guess in recap, I know that I have deep flaws and ugly parts, but I am at peace with that. I know that I must help others, and in pursuit of that goal, I became a person I like more than the girl I used to be. 

You have exactly the same potential. I want you to know that whatever you are now, that’s not your forever. Circumstances change, and you will change too. We’re human, you and I, and that’s an exciting thing to be. 

Your worth comes from your humanity itself, both evil and good, not the things you do or the fights you win. You never have to compare yourself to others because you are exactly the same as everybody else-- no better, but certainly no worse. You’re a person. That’s enough. 

I’m telling you all those things, and as advice, I’ll say this: get angry and fight. Fight for others. You can help them, and you should. Fight for yourself. You are worthy of respect, and everyone else should give it to you. Fight yourself. Any part of you that preaches despair is wrong. 

Find the thing that makes you angry and use it. Things are fucked up! There’s a lot to be angry about. I put it this way to my classmates, now my attorney peers: you get one hill to die on. What’s your hill? Go and defend it. 

Here’s an interesting thing, anon. Your hill can be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re right. Five years is a lot, and all the years beyond that are more. Take your antidepressants and go.