#and those 2 days only works because i ensured to train her in being Bored

[grubus]

i thought it was a cold. it's not. it's the flu.

it's not even flu season!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

THE AARON WARNER X READER FIC OMLLLLLLLL I NEED PT. 2 PLEASEEE

aaron warner x ferrars!reader pt. 2

aaron warner continues to make way into your life, and it's only a matter of time before you grow fond of him too.

(taken place during unravel me)

continuation of the hcs from this piece!

a/n: hey y'all.... the long awaited pt 2 is finally here. so sorry for the wait, but i had some major writer's block with this at first, and tbh life has been a lil hectic rn with classes n stuff, so thank you for all the love and support on the first headcannons, and thank you for being patient with me! i truly cant express enough how happy i get when you guys compliment my work <3 as usual, hayden is my personal fc, imagine who you like !

side note: i know reader might seem kind of useless at times even tho she has powers, but it's because she doesn't have a full control of her ability yet, still learning how far it goes, and she doesn't have much practice on defensive uses of it, since a lot of her training is about learning about her powers. hope that makes sense LOL. some big events are going to be briefed over bc i didnt wanna bore y’all with stuff you alr read in the book and wanna focus on warner & reader interactions👍

word count: 8.2k

warnings: some plot changes, vague taylor swift reference, mentions of injuries and blood, some violence

after receiving the note, you immediately crumped it and stuffed it into a random drawer with your clothing. you hadn't told a soul about the message, you feared it would only make the implication of meeting warner again true.

thinking about the note was a pipeline to thinking about aaron warner. thinking about him meant flashing back to the last moment the two of you shared.

his lips on yours, his confessions of his infatuation, and of course, the way your shot him in the chest. you hated how the memory was brung a warm and unfamiliar feeling in your chest, especially thinking back to the kiss.

you told yourself it wasn't a big deal. maybe another member at the base decided to play a prank on you, or perhaps it was just an empty threat. there was no way warner knew your location, so there's no need to tell anyone about the silly note.

but to be extra cautious, you laid off going on missions to the outside for a little bit. plus, it forced juliette to interact with people that weren't you on missions when you weren't there.

you went along with your routine as usual, training with castle and kenji, and hanging out with juliette and adam.

you didn't hate castle by any means, but you find his underlying scrutinization of both you and your sister at times to be bothersome. his constant pushy treatment to juliette never sat right with you either, but since he was the leader of omega point - you knew you had to still show respect for him.

although, you started to notice a strain between the couple recently, mostly from adam's side. there was obviously something he was keeping from juliette.

you comforted your sister to the best of your ability, but you knew not knowing was starting to affect her. kenji also seemed to know whatever this secret was, but was adamant on keeping his lips shut.

however, once castle took adam away in the middle of you guys eating lunch, juliette demanded answers since it was obvious adam himself was struggling to reveal it himself.

this time kenji was helpful and guided you and juliette to the research labs. there you both saw castle engaging adam in some sort of tests, and it sent your sister into a fit of rage, mainly aimed at castle. which then resulted in her angrily punch the ground, causing for a large earthquake that shook the entire establishment.

juliette was passed out for three days before waking up. you worried for her endlessly during those days, it was the one of the only times you intentionally listened for her thoughts, to ensure she was alright, but it was scarily silent. you knew adam also was quite worried for juliette, but castle made sure he kept his distance.

after that, her and adam were on some sort of unofficial break up, and you knew better than to get involved. juliette was also now required to join you and kenji in training, which made for a chaotic, but fun trio.

your powers were getting easier to control, you were working on levitating heavier objects every time. you've practiced mental manipulation on insects and small animals, so you had a gist of to what extent you could control a mind. the most you've done so far was send simple commands like jump, sit, move, etc. kenji always offered to be a test subject for this, but you always declined, not liking the thought of possibly controlling the mind of your friend.

now that you could control when to apprehend thoughts, it made it much easier to make friends without disrespecting people's privacy. while sara and sonya were always kind to you, others had made it sort of clear they wanted to keep their distance to prevent their mind from being read by you. being able to now reassure others that their thoughts weren't being heard made it easier for people to approach you.

much like juliette you found new friends in brendan, with an electric ability, and winston, who had a stretchy ability and also designed the suits for both ferrars.

days at omega point were serene for a bit, everyone following routine and members continuing to patrol areas for any threats of the reestablishment. but it was surely disrupted with the arrival of threatening news.

it was in the middle of the night when you were dragged away from your bed by kenji to castle's office; juliette and adam following suite. he claimed it was an urgent matter that required the presence of the four of you.

there, castle revealed the return of the supreme commander, also known as warner's father - that was big news to you and juliette. it explains how warner was able to be out with his men in the sector so often.

however, news worsened when you found out brendan and winston along with emory and ian were taken by the reestablishment during their patrol. at their missing location was left a note, with specific instructions on how to proceed.

you were shaken by this discovery, it had been only less than 24 hours since you had last spoken with either of them, both you and juliette had had breakfast with brendan and winston.

that wasn't even the end of if, castle instructed that all four of you were to go to this meeting destination.

all of you were taken aback by this, you had initially assumed castle would be the one to see the supreme, since has is the leader and all.

adam and kenji were at the head of the protest against this plan, not wanting to easily comply . both you and juliette remained silent, still taking in all the information given.

you without a doubt were ready to head in for the safety of your friends, but you also didn't like the unpredictability of the situation you all could possibly wander into with the commander.

"the two of you may opt out as you like, but i am requesting the aid of both ferrars, seeing as they are the ones very explicitly instructed to see the supreme - a sort of exchange, them for the hostages. "

again, everyone in the room was stunned with confusion. all having the same question, why would he need both sisters there?

you didn't know the room could've possibly erupted into more chaos than right now. adam was now furious, kenji not too far behind with questions of his own.

you couldn't help but think back to the note you found in your pocket, "see you soon." is this what he had meant? had he known this would occur that long ago?

again, you shook the thought from your mind. aaron warner wasn't the one who sent the order, it was the supreme, so it's possible warner will not even be at the location the four of you are suppose to go to.

no need to think about warner, you told yourself. no need to remember how he kissed you with ferocious passionate intent.

with this newfound knowledge, you knew you couldn't back away from this, not when there were lives at stake, and you didn't have to be familiar with the supreme to know he would not hesitate to take the lives of omega point members.

you looked toward juliette to inquire her thoughts about the situation. you understood from the look on her face that she had a similar plan of action to you. a telepathic (without actually reading her mind this time) message was communicated between both of you, making a mutual agreement.

"we'll do it." you announced over the arguing.

castle was pleased with this decision, but immediately adam objected, and even kenji was hesitant for you both to go through with the plan. however, stubborn as ever, both of you committed to your decision.

preparing for the meeting with warner's father was nerve-racking, worried for the safety of your team, and also the hostages. you and everyone knew this had to be some sort of trap set up by the commander, but there wasn't much you could do besides arm yourself and comply.

the four of you were gathered in castle's office. castle made sure all four of you were equipped with necessary gear for the mission, including having weapons with you.

you attire was the same as usual, a red leather corset-styled top, a matching leather coat-like jacket, black pants in a stretchy material, accompanied with black fingerless gloves and black knee-high boots - except now you had the addition of a harness and holsters up your leg to hold any firearms given to you. the coat did well in concealing a lot of the guns.

luckily, you had a good amount of practice with a gun since the warner incident. you were no james bond, as a man kenji liked to reference, but you had enough skill to defend yourself and others in the face of danger.

"why does warner's father need both sisters?" kenji humorously asked castle, "can't we at least keep one of them, one for the reestablishment and one for omega point."

you scoffed with a grin, entertaining the joke. "i'm sorry, who exactly are you willing to sacrifice to the reestablishment kenji?"

"well, with that attitude i'm starting to lean towards you."

castle goes through the plan once more before having to leave with the rest of omega point. they had to be stationed around building near the meeting point before the four of you arrived.

the time finally arrived for all of you to begin the journey to meeting the commander. since you all were traveling on foot, adam and kenji leading the way, you needed to leave at least an hour before the designated time.

adam was able to successfully turn off his protective shield for kenji to make all of you invisible. it made the journey easier; being able to wander through the land unseen.

after kenji misguided you to the wrong house, you all rushed to get to the correct address, 1542 sycamore. with 50 seconds of time, you all arrived.

juliette made the quick decision to tell kenji and adam to stay hidden, that it was better if warner's dad thought we were alone. in the case of an emergency, they could jump in.

kenji and adam gave a few last words of reassurance, before turning back invisible. then, you and juliette stood in front of the door of meeting house, holding hands before entering the house.

warner's dad did the job of opening the door for you both, inviting you inside even though it was more a of demand, and commenting on your impeccable timing.

once inside, you got a good look at the man. you shouldn't be shocked he was also quite handsome since he is warner's father, but you were still thrown back by his unexpected attractiveness.

unfortunately, you didn't take him his appearance for long before he abruptly & forcefully pushed juliette head against the wall behind her, momentarily knocking her out.

you didn't even get to process the action before you were pushed roughly against the wall, the commanders right forearm holding you down by the throat, while his left hand was disarming you.

almost as if acted on instinct, you pushed him back with a scarlet force, sending him back first onto a nearby table.

you took a second to get react, unsure of what happened, before rushing over to your sister. juliette didn't seem to be bleeding, luckily, but you figured she might have a concussion. much to your surprise, she sat up straighter attempting to act unfazed.

you were roughly yanked away by your wrist and away from juliette. you attempted a second self-defense act, but the commander was first and pulled out his gun, pointing it to your sister.

"try anything else, and i'll shoot her before you could blink."

your silence was a sign of defeat. you stood still as he unarmed you, even taking off your coat for good measure.

he released you finally then went on to do the same to juliette, who was still recovering from the slight blackout she faced from the collision with the wall - he repeated the threat to her, gun pointing in your direction this time.

you swore if you made it out of here alive you were going to learn more defensive uses of your powers to never be in a position like this again.

juliette must've been refocused on the task at hand because she starting asking the commander for the location of the hostages.

you stomach dropped when he disclosed his army is equipped and ready to take down any omega point members who are lingering by.

he went on to elaborate his plan to eliminate the "freaks" that made up the rebellion. but what got your heart beating faster was the mention of warner.

he directs his talk to you, "i admit, your sister, juliette, had piqued my interest quite a bit with her ability and history, i'd never paid much more than a glance in your direction. but what really astounded me, was when my son begged me to spare your life." he smiles, in a terrifying manor, "i just had to meet this girl whose bewitched him and spelled him into such a lovesick fool."

you felt physically stuck to your place as you listened. you didn't have to look at juliette to know she was also frozen.

'did aaron really do that?'

he turns in your direction, "i have every intention to use you to teach my son a lesson, and that will just have to include your death much to your misfortune. i really do hate to waste a pretty face." you face pales at the mention of your death.

then he faces your sister, who had taken a sudden step in front of you, "but that doesn't mean the older ferrars has to suffer the same fate and couldn't prove to be useful to join me in the capitol."

"i'd rather jump off a very steep cliff, thanks."

you wanted to laugh at your sister's retort, but you couldn't help but worry that he'd kill her for her denial. you'd rather be the sole target of his persecution than drag your sister down into it as well.

you reminded yourself adam and kenji were still around, they would surely arrive in time before either of you could be dead. you hoped.

the commander, however, does laugh at your sister's rejection, "a stubborn one you are."

"son, would you come in here, please?"

your eyes widen, warner was here this whole time.

you and juliette glanced at the same time, both being shocked at his presence.

when he appears in the doorway, all the memories of the event in his room come back to haunt you.

his face was void of any emotion, but his stare directed intensely toward you.

there was no time for small talk, because warner's father handed him a gun, meant to kill you. he places it in aaron's hand and aiming it to your head, dishing out the command to 'clean up his mess.'

you wouldn't be surprised if he had intentions to shoot you, you quite literally had shot him the last time you'd seen each other.

juliette let out yells of protests, telling warner to put the gun down.

you were preparing ways to defend yourself, mainly involving levitating an object and throwing it at either person with murderous intent toward you. but you weren't sure how you could hide the movement of your hand, and red glow of your eyes, when the attention was all on you.

but you couldn't help solely stare back into aaron's emerald green eyes. you wondered if this would be your last sight before death.

no, you refused to succumb to death like this, you wouldn't give anderson the pleasure.

you stared back into the green eyes, daring him to take a shot. this could be really courageous or terribly stupid.

then in the next instant, the gun had a new target, his father.

his father didn't look too fazed, confident that his son wouldn't shoot him, even patronizing him for it.

you didn't wait to find out if he would go through with it because now that the attention shifted, you could execute your plan of action.

the supreme and warner were both knocked down by the large heavy table being thrown at them. granted, aaron wasn't your target, but it didn't hurt to knock him down in case he intended to shoot you.

juliette took the opportunity to get the firearms the commander has taken at the beginning, and use the gun to shoot him in the leg. both legs. multiple times.

you were about to reel her back, when kenji appeared out of thin air, literally, and held juliette back from further injuring anderson.

suddenly, you remembered warner was still in the room. you looked around to find him passed out on the ground, a syringe, you guessed kenji used, next to him.

kenji tossed you as roped and told you to bound his arms, so, you knelt down on the floor next to him, carefully shifting him to place the rope.

as you did this, you noticed his features closely, how different he seemed unconscious, at peace. it kind of made him more beautiful.

out of your better judgement, you reached out slowly to touch a lock of his blonde hair, soft.

you immediately pulled your hand away when you thought you felt a stir, but you looked back to his face and he was still unconscious.

maybe, if you had looked a little closer you'd notice the ghost of a small smirk on his lips.

"we're going to take this kid hostage."

you were brought to your current situation with that statement.

"wait, what!" kidnapping wasn't on your to-do list for the day.

however, the most shocking news to be said in this room, was when adam dropped the bomb that the supreme command, warner's father, was his dad - making warner his half brother.

in the midst of all this chaos, omega point had already set off the call to attack, and now were battling against the reestablishment.

there was no time to think about events because kenji was rushing everyone out the door to get back to the safe haven.

the four of you needed to a large distraction so castle could draw back before major disaster since anderson was down and you now had taken warner. juliette promptly stepped up with an idea and create a part two of her earth-shattering ability. - which it turned out working really well because you all were able to make contact with castle.

adam and kenji did the heavy lifting of carrying aaron's heavy body while you and juliette had the task of finding a tank for the four of you to head to omega point in.

once that was settled all of you clambered into the tank, kenji taking the wheel and adam acting as second in command - that left you and juliette in the back with warner.

who was currently to the left of you, slumped against the window side of his seat, and juliette being on your right.

you weren't thrilled to have him smushed next to you. not when you were close enough to smell his cologne and feel the outline of his muscles through his jacket.

a part of you thought he would maybe wake up somewhere during the ride, but his eyes remained close. you know because you were staring at him more than you'd like to admit.

you reminded yourself what he had put you and juliette through, the asylum, the imprisonment, and the tests. it was enough to reel you back in and continue your dislike for warner.

although he was asleep, the bumps on the travel to the underground base made for a lot of jolts of movement and in turn caused warner's body to tumble onto you.

his body was heavy, but somehow it was heavier whenever you had to push him back to his side. it was like a force was trying to keep him on there.

his head somehow always slumped into the hair on the crook of your neck, and at some point, you could've sworn you felt him breathe in through his nose, like a sniff. but you wrote it off as the movement of the vehicle.

you must've passed out at a point because when you opened your eyes, you were lying against warner's shoulder.

your face was a flush of scarlet when you realized your position, but luckily juliette was fast asleep, and the two men were occupied in the front, likely going over today's events. thank god.

not long after, you all arrived at the destination and made it out of the tank.

kenji helped pull you out of the tank, not before leaving a teasing comment.

“have a nice nap, did you?”

you ignored him, but your face went red in embarrassment. he would never let you live this down.

you took a rest for a whole day before interacting with anyone. you weren't sure if you could handle any other sudden revelation without rest, especially if it involved warner.

castle came to you and juliette to discuss further the plan with warner and such. and you were reminded of the fact adam and him were technically brothers, which was kept a secret between all four of you still.

then castle gave you both the most ridiculous task; to be in charge of the questioning and occasionally visiting the prisoner. his reasoning being you both were the most acquainted with warner, and he'd be more willing to comply with at least one of you.

you wanted to decline; you didn't understand why castle always sent everyone else to do work for him - but you knew your sister was happy to finally have a real assignment for omega point; she wanted to be useful.

so the following day, you began your "mission." you sisters went to where they were holding warner, a room much like where you and juliette slept, but the difference was it closely guarded, not letting the person inside leave.

you greeted the guards, and they had looked very relieved to see you there. apparently, warner has been less than pleasant as an inmate - throwing things and demanding to speak with you, and they informed him the two of you would be arriving to calm him down.

you stepped into the room and noticed the lack of furniture, probably because he was throwing, then you saw warner sitting on a mattress on the floor, indulging himself in some sort of journal that you didn't get to get a look at before he put it away.

he looks up at your arrival with a grin, "hello amor, a pleasure to see you again at last." he scanned your attire, "i have to say, this new look on you has you looking rather ravishing."

you rolled your eyes, fighting the butterflies because of his comment. "how you manage to be a prisoner and still keep that stupid charm goes beyond me."

"i did say i'd see you soon didn't i?"

juliette gave you a confused glance, you hadn't told her about the note, nor the kiss.

you ignored what he said, trying redirect the conversation. you glanced down at his chest, "nice to see you've healed from the shot, for a moment, i thought i'd killed you."

"takes a lot more to kill me i'm afraid, however, if it's by your hand i'm more than willing to greet death like an old friend."

before you could bite back, juliette interrupted your banter with a cough, meant to serve a reminder to you to stay on task.

"right, forgot you were here juliette, perhaps you'd like to step out so your sister and could properly reunite."

god, you hated his suaveness. you hated it even more when it worked in making your heartbeat pick up.

juliette took charge of the conversation and started asking questions relevant to the establishment, but warner would either change the subject or give vague answers.

you both decided to leave after growing tired of the lack of information. you ignored warner's pleas for the company and walked out.

the next day you both tried again, meeting in from of his room. juliette, however had decided a change of tactics.

"i think you should go in without me."

you turned to her confused. she explained he would likely be more cooperative with your presence alone, his actions from yesterday proving to be in support of that.

you denied it, even if part of you believed it. you weren't sure you were ready to be in a room alone with aaron.

nonetheless, juliette left you to your own devices and rushed off, probably to find adam or kenji, before you could protest further.

you cursed her, but prepared to enter the room in front of you.

aaron was lying down, resting an arm behind his head and using the other to throw and object up and down. once he noticed you he sat up in your direction.

he noticed the lack of presence of juliette, and you could tell he was more than pleased.

"finally, i was starting to think your sister would chaperone us forever."

"don't be so eager to be alone, i could shoot you again."

"and i'd willingly take another bullet if it meant another kiss."

you couldn't help the annoying pink tint on your face that came up with the mention of the kiss.

you changed topic, "how were you able to send me that note?"

he smirked, "well for one, i noticed you after our eyes met briefly during your first time outside in the sector. after that, it was blatantly obvious who you were; that disguise did nothing to hide your gorgeous face, unfortunately for you. and then it wasn't hard to order a civilian to drop the note in your pocket while you were distracted."

you were stunned; you really hadn't thought to think he recognized you. you thought you blended in pretty well on those missions.

"okay, stop distracting me, what are your father's plans."

"hmm, maybe if you ask nicely and give me a kiss - i'd be more willing to comply."

you left shortly after that, knowing you weren't going to get much out from him.

it continued like that for a few days; you'd walk in, try to get information, but then he'd turn it back into a way to flirt with you or bring up the kiss.

this time when you walked in, you saw him reading the journal from the first day, and you were able get a better look at it. it was yours.

"hey, what are you doing with my-"

"dear diary, today i checked out a book from the library, there was a rather intimate scene between the main charact-"

you immediately recognized the writing as your own and strided across the room to aaron to snatch your journal back.

warner was quicker, standing up in a snap, keeping a distance from you as read aloud more pages.

you yelled at him to stop, catching up to him, but now he held the book to the ceiling, making it harder for you to reach because of his tall body.

you, much to your embarrassment, jumped up and down to reach the journal, wanting this humiliation to end.

"aaron, just give it back!"

all of a sudden, aaron stopped his teasing and looked down to you, a lopsided smile on his face.

"you called me aaron."

you eyes opened in horror, you just called him aaron, not warner. and he heard it.

"no. no. i said warner, you misheard." it was a terrible attempt at lying.

he smiles even wider, his dimples prominent. he reaches a free hands to lift your chin.

"please, keep saying my name, i do love how it sounds coming from you."

you felt you were gonna explode from all the emotions you were feeling, the room was getting hotter, and your heart was pounding in your ears.

you couldn't get a solid sentence our without babbling in embarrassment. so you took the coward's way - bolting out the room, abandoning the mission to retrieve your journal.

you avoided visits a few times after that incident, you were still cringing at the flashbacks, it worsened when you also remembered he had the contents of your journal and all the embarrassing things and darkest secrets you'd written inside.

unfortunately, that didn't stop you from running into warner.

you were eating lunch with kenji, he was currently explaining some princess film you'd never seen.

"wait, so how did this girl even find out when her birthday was?"

"well, obviously, mother gothel told her."

"why didn't she just lie about her birthday, or not even tell her what a birthday is?"

"i don't know, i didn't make the script."

"also does the ending mean she has power still, or was it the last of her ma-"

"oh my god, can you shut up and just appreciate the greatness that is tangled!"

"hey! you're the on-"

"well, isn't this a surprise."

you turned to the new voice that entered the conversation. aaron warner stood in front of your table, hands behind his back, and castle behind him, likely guiding him somewhere.

then you remembered your last conversation with the leader and came to the conclusion aaron was on his way to be tested, probably like adam had.

castle remained unaware of the blood shared between the two, but you did let it slip you were unable to read your mind, and he was able to make skin contact with your sister.

"well if it isn't my favorite ex-boss." kenji spoke with a mouthful of food.

aaron ignored kenji, much to kenji's offense. "amor, here have you been these days, you left quite flushed after our intimate moment in my cell."

kenji spat out his food at that last bit.

you body was filled to the brim with utter embarrassment and hate toward the way he phrased his wording to make it seem what it wasn't.

you turned to kenji who was coughing continuously, "nothing even happened!" you gave warner a glare, "stop making it seem so.. so-"

"so what, amor? i'd love to know what you think i meant by intimate."

"you are so insufferable."

castle then dragged warner along to the testing area. you couldn't deny you weren't curious to find out if he shared a gift similar to adam.

you were planning to engage with warner the next day, but his guards had come up to you during your training session demanding your presence because apparently warner was in a fit of rage.

worried, you rushed over. entering the room, warner was sitting against the wall, face in his hands. the room was in disarray, broken items of what was already so little, scattered all over the room. even his floor mattress had been tossed.

he barely acknowledged you, so you took it upon yourself to kneel down in from of him, silently asking what happened.

"castle..he told me it's possible i have an... ability. he told me i could change," he laughs humorlessly, "that there was potential for me to be.. different... possibly better."

you stayed silent, unsure of how to respond, as he bitterly ranted about his talk with castle.

"what do you think?”

“what?”

“do you believe i can change? i’d love to know what your opinion is on this, amor.”

you weren’t sure how to respond. “i believe… everyone can choose what they want to be. it’s up to them to decide, even if everyone tell tried to tell you who you are.”

this time, he was the one silent, looking down at his lap, likely in thought.

you took the chance to take in his attire; some black sweatpants, grey socks, and no shirt.

you probably would’ve been flustered to see him shirtless if you didn’t notice some peculiar marks peaking from his shoulder.

silently, you slowly crept to the side of aaron, still distracted. you slide far enough to get a good few of his back.

you internally gasped. his back was littered with lines of scarring - likely whipped. your stomach churned at the thought.

you also notice a big tattoo in the upper middle of his back, in all caps ‘IGNITE’.

you must’ve said it out loud because aaron’s head whipped in your direction. he turned his back away from you once he noticed where your stare was directed.

“no need to say anything, i already know how hideous it looks.”

unsure how to respond, you blurt the first thing out of your head - “i think they look cool. kind of like an abstract piece of art.”

yeah, comforting people wasn’t your forte.

luckily, aaron seemed intrigued by your statement. so you took the chance to request something further.

“can i touch your, erm, back?”

aaron was hesitant for a few moments, but then sighed and turns his back toward you.

you delicately pressed your fingers along the canvas of his back. you could feel every ridge and texture of each scar as your fingers glided over.

aaron flinched at first content, then progressively & visibly melted into your touch.

“why ‘ignite’?”

“why not?” you really hated his vagueness.

an idea popped into your head. you pulled a pen out of your jacket pocket, testing it on your own skin a few times before you started drawing lines on aaron’s skin.

“amor, what are you doing?”

“hang on.” he could feel the ink of the pen etched on his back.

“you know, my original plan was to seduce you with my perfect abs, but i guess luring you with my scars works as well.”

“shut up.” but you were smiling while saying it.

you finished connecting a few lines, “there, perfect.”

"i think you've forgotten i dont have the neck of a giraffe to twist around."

"oh, my bad." you said sheepishly. "do you have a mirror?"

"i did, then i broke it. pieces should be in a corner somewhere."

you mentally scolded his carelessness.

you managed to find a piece big enough for him to see your creation upon his skin.

"i drew a star." you wanted to facepalm at how silly it sounded.

star was a bit of a stretch, you connected lines scarred on his bank to form a lopsided and wonky-shaped star.

he just stared at it, not uttering a word. you moved to try to wipe off the mark, but he grabbed your wrist before you could.

"no," he grins, "i adore it. do more of them."

you did. it was a whole galaxy of stars embedded on him.

he stayed mute as he watched you through the shard of mirror while you doodled, but suddenly he spoke and gave you details as to what his knew of his father's plans and the location of brendon & winston.

"why are you suddenly telling me this, why now?"

"it's what your here for, isn't it."

you rushed over to castle immediately and repeated everything aaron told you. he thanked you for the information before he called in others to draw up a plot of attack. you all were to leave immediately the next day.

castle called a meeting in the lunch hall a few hours later; everyone at omega point was gathered there.

he briefed them on the commander's plans or what the plan was supposed to be so far. of course, people were suspicious of this information coming from warner, not trusting him at all; not that you could blame them.

"he's immune to both of the ferrars abilities, he can touch juliette with no issue and y/n can't get into his head. after this reveal, we did some test, and we've come to find out he's gifted like the rest of us."

the room exploded in chaos, gasps, yells, and protests coming from all different directions. a lot of ongoing looks toward your table. castle raised his voice to calm everyone down.

you and juliette didn't stick around long after, for one you already knew the information being given , and two, the stares and questions were getting annoying and uncomfortable.

however, adam shortly followed the two of you out, desperate to speak to juliette, and you knew why - warner being able to touch her.

they began talking intensely as if you weren't there. you watched from the sidelines as juliette explained her side and adam getting more frustrated.

you butted in at a point, you felt bad for the guy, but your sister came first. “adam, maybe it's best you leave to cool down.”

but your voice of reason only irritated him. “how about you stop inserting yourself into your sister’s affairs and let her speak for herself.”

"what is your issue?"

"this is between juliette and i; she doesn't need you speaking for her."

"you hypocrite, that's what you're doing right now!"

"why don't you go fraternize with warner, that's all you seem to be doing these days." adam venomously spat at you.

as if the mention of his name made him appear, warner's presence made it known. he stepped in front of you, dividing you and adam who got closer as the argument headed.

"kent, you've really got an attribute for being infuriating and vexing."

that set off the fire for an intense standoff between the two. adam, already mad at aaron, started the verbal feud.

it got so heated, kenji inserted himself between the two - trying to stop the commotion. you even grabbed aaron's arm to pull him away.

it was all happening so quick; one moment, they were shooting insults back and forth, the next instant kenji was dropping to the floor clutching his head in pain.

juliette immediately called out for help, finding castle, who brought in sonya and sara to take kenji to the medic.

adam and juliette went trailing after them, but you stayed there stunned. what did you do?

you had a flashback to the experiment - kenji reacting, in the same manner, those soldiers had after you freaked out.

you felt extremely horrible for kenji and you prayed he would be alright.

but you hadn't intended to hurt kenji nor did you exert any force in using your powers. you had better practice with your energy, so it didn't make sense.

aaron, still beside you, reached out to you - but you instinctively took a step back. you weren't sure what was happening to you, and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone else accidentally.

"probably better you stay back," you looked down at your hands in fright, "i don't have control right now, i'm don't even understand how i did that to kenji."

"because amor, you didn't injure him. i did."

your confusion only deepened with that. then he brought back the mention of his gift, and you put the puzzle pieces together as he spoke.

"so you can basically can absorb someone else's power and use it?"

"a little more complicated than that. i can sense people's energy, like right now i know you're confused and worried for your friend, but also scared of yourself for what you did, or thought you did."

he elaborated, saying he unintentionally manifested your energy when you touched him. when kenji grabbed his arm, in an attempt to pull him away, that was when he projected the energy on him and hurting him in the process.

"wait, so does that mean you have my ability to read minds too?"

"hmm, i haven't given it a chance," he smirks at you "would you like to be my test subject?"

"absolutely not."

later that night, you check with sara and sonya on kenji's condition. they informed you that he was alright, but just needed some rest. after, you met up with castle in his office, finalizing plans for the morning - the beginning of the battle.

before you said goodbye, you had a question that had been crossing your mind.

"why do you trust ar-, er, warner, what's to say he won't turn his back."

"well, i guess i can't say for sure that he won't. i just have to have faith in mr. warner that he will make the right decision for himself. and with your added presence, i'm sure he's more open to that than ever."

"what do you mean?"

"surely you realize he's in love with you. he's even told me himself."

"he..he told you he was in love with me?"

"yes, just after i was discussing his gift with him." he said it like it was the most casual thing.

you stayed to chat briefly after. you directly headed to aaron's room, no longer littered with guards since he was considered a "member." you were able to walk in with no issue.

aaron hadn't been asleep yet when you got there, he was sitting up on his bed, which had a frame now, reading a book.

you didn't give him a chance to react to your sudden intrusion before you started speaking.

"why would you tell castle you're in love with me"

he furrowed his brows, but you kept going - you were set on getting answers.

"how could you just.. say something like that, what is your motive? are you trying to get to me?"

"amor, calm down. i have no motive." he said, standing up and walking toward you.

"then why would you even say that."

"isn't it clear?" he gets nears, a hand going to cradle the underside of your face, "i meant what i said."

"you can't love someone you barely know."

"but that's just it. i do know you. i've read your mind on paper, and experienced you for myself the moment i met you. i know that you hate to be wrong, you want to clench your first when you lie, although juliette is older by a bit - you feel the need to protect her, you're afraid of the dark, but never admit it, you hate yourself for loving your powers, and you want so badly to be accepted here because of your lonely childhood. shall i go on?"

you were flabbergasted by his word, and you couldn't even deny that they weren't true.

"how do you know this?"

"because, as my dear father put it, it seem you've bewitched me, my mind, and my body."

then he kissed you. and you let him.

and you very much liked it.

it was a longing, messy, kiss - he had you against the wall, lifted by your hips to his height. you wrapped your arms around his neck kissing him deeper, not letting any thoughts or worries flow from you for the moment.

the doors opened. "y/n? are you her-" then a gasp.

you recognized the voice - juliette.

you immediately panicked and pushed aaron away, attempting an explanation yo your sister, but she was already turning her feet and running away.

you gave warner a glance before you ran off in her direction.

you caught up to her, "juliette, please, wait!"

she abruptly stopped her feet and turned to you, "what are you doing y/n? kissing warner, are everything he's done!"

"it's just... i didn't... it's not like-" you struggled to put it into words.

"so what, you- you like the guy who kidnapped us? the one who shot a guy in front of us. experimented - borderline tortured us? he made me hurt a child, y/n. a child! and now you're making out with him."

you were at a loss for words, tears starting to build up at her harsh words.

"you're an idiot if you think you could love him, and even stupider to think a cold heartless person like him could love you. and i won't have anything to do with you if you keep him in your life." and with that she waked off, leaving you in the hall.

you didn't go back to warner after your fight, nor did you go back to your room immediately. you shamefully found an empty closet to cry into for a while. once you were able to breathe normally, you went back to the shared room - luckily everyone was fast asleep.

by morning, everyone was preparing for the rescue of brendan and winston. you and juliette exchanged no words; you attempted - but was shut down every time. she had never been this mad at you. so you just suited up and went to find kenji. kenji sensed the tension between you sisters, but didn't push for information.

you came to found out from castle, aaron warner was gone - he escaped omega point. likely on his way to the reestablishment.

you didn't want to focus on why a part of you was hurt when you heard that.

the battle was not a scene for the light-hearted - anderson's men had already begun gathering civilians and spewing blood. if you didn't have a strong stomach, you'd already be spilling your guts.

midway through dodging bullets and soldiers, you felt a shift in the already dire environment. there was something wrong, and you sensed it.

you urged kenji you felt the need to return to omega point - there was something wrong. he wasn't too convinced by your vague intuition, so you sought off on your own, doing your best to avoid the battlefield.

you ran into juliette at some point, not caring for your argument at the moment, and told her your inkling. she also brushed you off, telling it wasn't a time for your dramatics.

even with no support, you went back - you couldn't ignore this feeling.

you were maybe 200 ft away from omega point when it happened. bombs were dropped on the territory - causing the destruction of the building and any remaining members who stayed behind.

the explosion was powerful - even from where you were standing, it sent you both painfully flying back. you blacked out before you could react to the tragic ending of omega point.

you regained consciousness after consecutive kicks to your ribs and a voice telling you to wake up.

in front of you stood a crippled anderson, standing with he support of a cain. his composure was calm, but you could see the hatred behind his eyes.

you painfully stood up, surveying the area. you were in a house - similar to the one from last time.

you felt weak, dizzy, and the world was a bit blurry. you were leaning on a mantle to support your standing.

"ah, the fatigue your feeling would be my own fault. had those lovely sisters inject you with something. it will incapacitate you enough that you won't be a threat. can't have you flipping tables again."

you were barely registering his words, but when he mentioned sisters it gave you a bit of a jump start. he had sara and sonya.

your words felt faint, but you demanded to know where they were. he assured you they were unharmed, but it did nothing to ease you.

midway your conversation, warner enters the room - shocked to see you there. you probably would've reacted if you weren't so dosed on drugs.

"now that we have this reunion out the way, i'm going to be generous, something you ought to appreciate. you can tell me where your sister is and where the rest of your band of freaks are. you can aid me in destroying them and only after will i grant you the mercy of joining the reestablishment."

"what do you want with juliette?"

"she did this to me," he gestured to his legs, "and now i want my compensation."

no matter the situation with your sister, you'd never give her up.

"go to hell."

he sighs, "a disappointment once again, miss ferrars." he turns to his son, "this is why it's important i teach you this very valuable lesson son."

warner goes rigid, "what do you mean?"

warner pull out his shotgun, "justice, should always be served - even if it has to be by your own means."

then you were shot right in the chest.

you blacked out, then started slipping in and out of consciousness. all you remember is blood spilling from you at a rapid pace, and aaron crouched in front of you.

you remember voices - aarons, sara, and sonya's talking in rushed voices - then it was only aaron.

"hey cmon, amor, stay with me."

"wow... getting in the chest really sucks. i feel really bad about shooting you now." you spoke deliriously.

"it's alright, i just need you to hold on a little longer." his voice strained, holding back anguish. 

but you didn't; you passed out, your last thoughts hoping juliette would throw you a nice funeral, enough though she was upset at you. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 2 -

A/N: As a note, each of these chapters is a separate story with a different point of divergence from canon timeline.

When Lan Wangji was six years old, and Lan Xichen nine, their mother died, breaking their hearts. Even Lan Qiren, who had never liked He Kexin and might have even hated her for having ruined all his dreams of travel, felt her absence keenly – he kept thinking of her at odd times, a matter of irrepressible habit. I should tell her about this next week, he would think as he watched his nephews accomplish something, or, upon receiving an offer to go night-hunting, We can’t go because we wouldn’t be able to make it back in time for the monthly visit, and then he’d abruptly remember she was dead and there would be no more monthly visits.

One time, sitting and watching Lan Wangji carefully practice his calligraphy during the time that would normally have been their monthly visit, he even found himself inexplicably wiping tears out of his eyes. It had been a struggle, but they’d finally gotten Lan Wangji to stop going to her door, ignoring snow and chill to wait there as if simply willing it would allow the door to open again, but he remained overly quiet, even quieter than he’d been before, the loss hurting him deeply, and seeing him hurt had hurt Lan Qiren. He tried to be subtle about it, to hide his abrupt display of emotionality, but before he knew it, Lan Wangji had come over to stand by his side, his little hands holding his own, earnestly mumbling, “Don’t cry, shufu, it’ll be all right” in an echo of what Lan Qiren had been trying so ineffectually to say to him.

“Yes,” he said, wiping harder, and ultimately giving up entirely and letting the tears stream down his cheeks, hiding his face entirely behind one of his sleeves. Lan Xichen found them at some point and curled up into Lan Qiren’s other side, tears starting to slowly seep down his own face; trying to hold back their strange shared grief was like trying to stop the tide. “It will be all right, eventually. I promise.”

He had made that promise too soon, it seemed: less than a week later, one of the elders remarked that it was time for Lan Xichen to take up some of the duties of running a sect.

“What?” Lan Qiren asked, blinking. “You’re joking. He’s nine.”

“He’s the future sect leader,” the elder said, and his gaze was cold. “Never forget, Teacher Lan, that although you fill the role now, you are only a custodian in his name.”

“That’s not the point I was making,” Lan Qiren said, frustrated; he had never been very good with words or with people. “Of course he will inherit the position, given time. But he is not even old enough for his own sword, and years away from night-hunting – why would you burden him with sect business? He’s far too young.”

“He is at exactly the right age to begin. How else can we ensure that he will not fall into the failings of his father or the crimes of his mother?”

“He is a child,” Lan Qiren stressed, wondering what he was missing. “We can only teach him to the best of our abilities, and hope that he does well with it; there’s nothing else that can be done.”

The elder shook his head. “We cannot take the risk of another generation of disaster. He must be trained, and trained now, trained well. If we do not take action, it may be too late, and he will be ruined.”

As you were, he didn’t say, but Lan Qiren felt keenly the burn of humiliation. He had never lived up to their expectations the way his brother had, and then his brother had gone and failed them all, too.

“What exactly are you thinking?” he asked, trying to dismiss the feeling of foreboding in his belly. An introduction to the burdens Lan Xichen would eventually face would not be so far amiss – a shichen a week of helping to transcribe simple letters, perhaps, or running errands, the sort of thing a boy could do and not be bored; that wouldn’t be too bad.

That wasn’t what they had in mind at all.

They wanted Lan Xichen to start tackling political problems at once, forcing him to make real decisions, deal with paperwork, and then also three times the usual lessons in sword and music, all the skills he would need to have. And all this, of course, on top of his regular lessons –

“We can assist, of course,” one of the elders said to the others, ignoring Lan Qiren’s aghast expression entirely. “But the sooner he grows accustomed to the work, the sooner he can step up –”

“You’ll crush him!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, interrupting, and he never interrupted the elders. “He’s a child, and a child who just lost his mother at that – how can you even suggest this? He would have no time to study in depth rather than shallowly, no time to think, to become his own person –”

“We will polish him into a perfect jade,” an elder said. “Him, and the younger one, too. What more do they need than to be of service to the sect?”

It wasn’t that Lan Qiren disagreed that service to their sect was the highest good, or that scholarly and martial pursuits were of the highest caliber, far more important than aimless play. He was a teacher, a strict one, and the sect rules accorded with his understanding: Learning comes first. But at the same time, there was learning and then there was learning – he was a teacher who cared for his students’ well-being, too. He knew that the approach proposed would not polish Lan Xichen into a jade but mold him instead, brutally pruning away any part of him that did not accord with the elders’ wishes.

It was just what they’d done to Lan Qiren the moment he became acting sect leader, after all.

They’d loaded him up with responsibilities until he’d nearly worked himself sick, refused to grant him the slightest freedom to travel even in a small and supervised manner, and they’d tried to force him to recant even those few things he did enjoy – composing music, teaching children. If he hadn’t already been as old as he was when it started, he wouldn’t have had the strength of will or determination to preserve even those few little things of his own…

“He should move into the hanshi soon,” another elder agreed. “If we expect him to take on the responsibilities of an adult, he should be treated as one.”

“Agreed. The sooner he disengages from messing around with his peers, the better. They will only distract him from what he needs to do.”

“I do not agree with this,” Lan Qiren said. “I am his guardian and his teacher. I do not agree.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Qiren,” one of the elders said, and Lan Qiren felt an automatic wash of shame, instinctive and ingrained after all these years. “You took the sect leader position with the knowledge that it would not truly be yours, and now you wish to preserve your personal power longer?”

I never wanted the position, which offers only power in exchange for its brutal demands! I still don’t want it! But to put it onto a child, any child, much less my own nephew who I love – how could I agree to that?

“You must not be selfish, as your brother was,” another elder scolded him, and normally Lan Qiren would be the first to agree. Being like his brother was his worst fear, and one he would do anything to avoid – but at the moment, the reminder felt wrong, as if they were using it as a tool to manipulate him rather than expressing what they really thought. “Do not cling to power and authority, after all. You cannot and must not steal what belongs to your nephews, Qiren. Never forget your place.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. His place?

He had never been selfish. He had sacrificed everything – he had been filial and loyal, obedient to his elders, and they had taken everything from him, just as they planned to do to the two children that had been entrusted to his care. The only difference was that Lan Qiren had been allowed to live freely for a little while, and even that freedom was only because the elders had utterly ignored him in favor of his more talented brother, who had been protected by the love of his powerful father; for his nephews, who were all but orphaned and left only in his inferior care, there was no such defense.

This time, it was clear that the elders meant to rectify the situation – this time, they wouldn’t even leave Lan Wangji his childhood, let alone Lan Xichen.

They would hollow them out and leave them as little more than puppets, blindly obeying the rules without having the time to contemplate their meaning. They would squeeze out every moment of every day, turning each endless shichen into a joyless burden, transforming the rules into little more than a yoke to chain them – his nephews wouldn’t be Lan, who chose willingly to obey because they loved the rules and loved their sect and wanted to give everything for it. They would be little better than slaves.

Perhaps, Lan Qiren thought suddenly, it was not his selfishness that the elders were constantly seeking to correct. Perhaps it was their own.

He tried, first and foremost, to argue with them, but they did not listen to him. They had never listened to him, not from the first moment he had yielded to their wishes over his own desires and allowed himself to be trapped in the Cloud Recesses as the new sect leader. No – it was even older than that, from even before then, from as far back as when he had been small and helpless and crying out for help in his own way, not even knowing what was happening to him and why…

They had always turned their faces away.

Lan Qiren had tried his best to please them, and had failed. He’d thought the blame lay with him, but now he wasn’t so sure – now he thought that it didn’t matter what he did, that he never would.

Lan Qiren’s nephews were the ones who were small and helpless now, and unlike the elders that should have watched over him, he would not turn away.

The plan he hatched was ruthless in the extreme, but there was nothing else he could think of in his desperation. The Lan sect had always been very secretive, in its own way, keeping outsiders from knowing their personal business; although everyone within the sect knew that it was the elders who held all the real power, even if they disdained the work of it and left much of that for Lan Qiren to accomplish, from the outside it appeared as though Lan Qiren were sect leader, invested with all the powers of one.

To be a sect leader, in their day and age, was to be a tyrant.

No need to look at Wen Ruohan, the chief example of this trend, a man who made his sect kneel and touch their heads to the floor upon hearing that he was coming. It was enough to look instead at the Jiang sect, whose sect leader Jiang Fengmian whiled away his days waiting for his old lover to write, ignoring his wife despite her maternal family’s power and influence within his territory. Look at the Jin sect, where Jin Guangshan bedded every prostitute and poor young lady within range, surrounded by a cloud of rumors regarding whether he’d bothered to get all of them to consent – rumors there might be, but no one dared to make any trouble for him over it without actual proof. Look at Lao Nie, whose sect, elders and all, sighed and shook their heads over his excessive fondness for dangerous people, but could take no action to stop him.

Look at Lan Qiren’s father, who had spoiled one child into madness and neglected the other into near despair, and had trained his whole sect to accept it as a given. Lan Qiren was working to repair that damage, to lead by example, but it was a hard upward struggle – rot might start at the head, and healing, too, but the healing was harder than the rotting.

A sect leader, in short, was a tyrant.

And as far as the world was concerned, Lan Qiren was the sect leader.

Lan Qiren bided his time until the next discussion conference. It hurt him to wait, seeing poor Lan Xichen get stretched thin under his new duties and constantly reminded to keep a serene smile on his face throughout, seeing poor Lan Wangji so stressed at his brother’s misery and his own amplified lessons that he'd started biting people again, but he knew it was necessary. A discussion conference meant outsiders, and outsiders meant not losing face; it was the one time that Lan Qiren was actually treated as a sect leader by all around him, the one time no one would gainsay anything he said, even if they would later tear strips off of him in private.

It was his only chance.

"I have an announcement," he said mildly, presiding over the large gathering that marked the conclusion of the discussion conference. His Lan sect was the host of this conference, and he was accordingly seated at the head of the room, equal with the other Great Sects but given additional deference in view of the location - it was easy for his voice to carry, despite his quiet tone, and all the sects turned towards him to listen. They were probably expecting something anodyne, some additional prize or information about the weather to keep in mind as they departed. "I have decided that my Lan sect's ties to the rest of the cultivation world have grown stale, seeing each other as we do only at these times and the common people only on night hunts. As a result, in my authority as Sect Leader Lan, I intend to make a journey throughout the various sects, taking along my nephews to introduce them to your families. In my absence, the Cloud Recesses will be managed by my cousin, Lan Yueheng -"

Talk exploded in the whole audience, furious and loud, all but his own Lan sect which was calm and stone-faced as always, though of course that was only their pride and concern for face overwhelming their shock. Poor Lan Yueheng was the exception, of course, his jaw dropping open like a weight dropped from a great height until his neighbors noticed and elbowed him in the side to make him stop - Lan Qiren mentally apologized for not having warned his cousin up front. He hadn't dared to risk it. 

" - and accordingly I will be leaving alongside the rest of you at the conclusion of this conference," he concluded, for once relieved that his voice never varied far from a monotone; he sounded cool and calm and in control, and like he hadn't noticed the way his sect elders were trying to strangle him with their gaze even as the maintained decorum. "Our first destination is the Nie sect's Unclean Realm, with Lao Nie as our host."

Lan Qiren hadn't warned Lao Nie, either, but he knew him well, and to his relief hadn't misjudged him - the other man didn't spare so much as a moment to blink in surprise, instead grinning broadly at the other sect leaders.

"You bet you are," he laughed, his voice booming and loud. "And don't think I'll let you leave so quickly, Qiren - not until your nephews are best friends with my sons, and not until you've had a chance to work your magic on my sect's younger generation and turn them from little beasts into proper gentlemen!"

Lan Qiren barely resisted rolling his eyes - he still didn't know who it was that had come up with the nonsense about him being able to turn the most hopeless waste into a gentleman, but it was rank exaggeration. But to his surprise, the first person to respond was the head of one of the more distant small sects, Baling Ouyang, a young man with an excitable temperament; he leapt up to his feet and exclaimed, "Will he really? Sect Leader Lan, I insist you visit my Ouyang sect next, if you haven't made firm plans - I scarcely recognized my little hellion nephews after a season in your care, all grown up, careful in thought and action, compassionate and upright...and no more pranks!"

Another exaggeration. The Ouyang twins had been troublesome only at the start, until Lan Qiren realized that what they longed for most was recognition as separate beings rather than a collective whole; as soon as he'd treated them with respect, and showed them how to act in return, they'd taken to his lessons like a desert to water. 

"Sect Leader Lan's skill in teaching is very well known," Sect Leader Yao said, always first to speak after his friend from the Ouyang sect. "You'll really come to our sects to do it, rather than our children to the Cloud Recesses? And you won't charge, of course...?"

"Naturally no," Lan Qiren said, a little puzzled by their enthusiasm. Was it so expensive to send children to the Cloud Recesses? He’d never charged for his lessons, although he supposed there was the cost of travel and maintenance to the standard preferred by students, and of course guest gifts were customary, although he never made any demands. "I would be your guest, and enjoying your hospitality – room and board would be more than sufficient…"

"In that case, you should come to Pingyang next -"

"No, Yueyang!" someone else called, and before Lan Qiren knew exactly what was happening, the sect leaders were arguing over who he should visit first. The most enthusiastic were the ones whose children he had taught already, but the others were quick to catch up, loathe to miss out on what they perceived to be a good deal - even Wen Ruohan, never one to lose out to others when it came to something perceived of as desirable, extended an offer with a smug, snake-like smile. 

Lan Qiren provisionally accepted all the offers with a growing sense of relief: with such public acceptance, the Lan sect would lose more face by refusing to let him go than in allowing his unorthodox action. It was just as he has hoped, and more successful than he'd dared to dream; the other sects had fixated on his teaching skills and in doing so had ignored the strangeness of a sect leader taking his heirs and all but running away from home. 

That relief carried him through to the end of the meeting, when everyone divided up to pack up their things, and Lan Qiren returned to the inner parts of his sect to do the same.

"What are you thinking?" one of the elders demanded the second they were alone. "Have you gone mad?"

"Did you see the reception of my idea?" Lan Qiren replied, hiding the giddiness of relief under a facade of calm. "The sect will benefit greatly from the connections we will make."

"That's no answer!"

Lan Qiren was a filial child; even if they were wrong, he would not tell the elders so to their faces. Instead he only bowed deeply and said, "What's done is done. I need to get ready, and quickly; it would be embarrassing if we weren't prepared."

Of course, he'd already packed everything he thought he'd need, determined to take Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji with him no matter what - it was only luck that his plan had worked as well as it had, allowing him to pretend to some move of subtle strategic genius rather than a retreat out of desperation. Still, he needed to go through the motions.

"Fine," another elder spat out, although their demeanor made it clear that it wasn't fine at all. "But did you have to announce that the provisional leader was Lan Yueheng? He's completely unfit!"

By which they meant that he wouldn't listen to them - that he was brash and lacked tact, said what he thought and cared for nothing but his experiments, his wife, and his children. Out of all of Lan Qiren’s cousins, he was the most thick-faced, shameless to the extreme, essentially immune to criticism or guilt. 

That was, of course, exactly why Lan Qiren had picked him.

"He's good at math and accounting, and at arranging provisioning," Lan Qiren said, picking the more acceptable reason. "That's the key responsibility left over, isn't it? Everything else, I can do through correspondence."

The reassurance that Lan Qiren would still be doing his duty to the sect - would still be accountable to them - helped settle some ruffled feathers. It wouldn't be pleasant to try to do the work of sect leader from abroad, Lan Qiren knew; it would mean a lot of sleepless nights slaving away by candlelight, with no support from any aides, bearing all the weight himself. No doubt the elders knew it too, and figured that he'd soon enough lose interest in what he heard them calling, in hushed voices where they thought he could not hear, his "little show of rebellion".

Lan Qiren didn't care. The sooner they left, the better the chances that the elders would continue to be deceived into thinking that Lan Qiren was doing all this for his own sake - some last stab at achieving his long forgotten dreams, doomed to inevitable disappointment - instead of what it really was, which was freedom for his nephews. They couldn't be assigned work or classes from a distance; their education would be wholly in Lan Qiren’s hands.

He'd take a thousand sleepless nights of overwork if it meant they got to be children a little longer.

"Are we really going to the Unclean Realm?" Lan Wangji lisped, looking even more rosy-cheeked and excited than usual. "Will – will Nie-gongzi will be there?"

"Yes, Mingjue-xiong will be there," Lan Xichen said, and grinned at Lan Qiren over his brother’s head. He looked more carefree than he had in...possibly years, and Lan Qiren briefly regretted how long it had taken him to do this. "Since you like him so much."

Lan Wangji turned bright red at once.

"Both of the Nie boys will be there," Lan Qiren said. "The younger one is closer to your age, Wangji. You can get to know him as well."

Lan Qiren went next to the library pavilion, looking for books on their sect rules - he might not trust his sect elders, but he loved his sect, loved their rules and traditions, and he wanted his nephews to love it, too. He wanted them to see the Cloud Recesses as a refuge, as a haven - not a burden.

He would give his nephews the freedom he'd longed for, and when they were older...when they were older, more resilient, more sure of who they were, he would bring them back and he would ensure that they obtained their rightful inheritance. In full, not in part - Lan Xichen would be a real sect leader, not a puppet for the elders, taught only to be pleasant and yielding and to perform well with his cultivation, swordsmanship and music only for the purpose of impressing outsiders. Lan Wangji would be his brother’s right hand, would love and respect him and be loved and respected in turn.

Maybe, Lan Qiren thought to himself, amused, they would even find some compatible child on their way and one day return to bring them home as a dao companion.

He couldn't wait to find out.

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part Xl

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually) 

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,375

Note: Hey guys!! It’s been a year since I started this series and I was really excited to continue, I really was. But months flew by and my life began to take a different course, now, I can’t make promises that I’ll be uploading soon again, though I will try if I have time to spare and my imagination cooperates :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you all for your patience, it’ll be rewarded!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10

Months have flew by way too fast. And now you were feeling more confident around the northern lady and your family. You’d keep her from any harm they would try to inflict on her no matter the consequences, yet you were cautions cause Joffrey was still so damn annoying. Though since Margaery arrived to the capital she has been keeping him rather distracted.

“Because the truth is always either terrible or boring.”

“Am I boring?” You approached Sansa from behind, daintily kissing her cheek.

“Not at all.” She answered with a broad simper.

“You shouldn’t be too obvious in plain sight.” Shae subtly advised.

“You are right. We should be more careful.” You peered up to see if the guards were staring your way, when you confirmed they were not you stole a kiss on her silky lips. She giggled.

“Have a lovely day. I’ll meet you later. My grandfather requested my presence.” It was true... Tywin wanted to speak privately with you, and you sort of imagined why.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“My ladies.” You winked playfully at Sansa before walking away.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Shae asked Sansa well knowing the answer to her own question.

“She is perfect.” She let out a love sigh.

“You trust her?”

“The princess has always treated me with respect. I always dreamed with a handsome knight or a sweet prince, then I met her and she is far more better than any of that.” Sansa confessed.

“She seems to be a good girl.” Lord Baelish approached the two women.

“Lovely day for it. May I speak with lady Sansa alone for a moment?” Shae stood up and walked back to Ros.

“I saw your mother not long ago. She’s very eager to see you. And your sister.” He commented.

“Arya’s alive?”

“Oh yes. Indeed she is. But... I’ve noticed you’ve grown quite attached to princess Y/N.” He chose carefully his words.

“I have. She is and extraordinary friend.” Sansa added. “I’m very lucky to be her friend.”

“You are. I’m waiting for word on an assignment that will take me far away from the capital. When I set sail, I might be able to bring you with me. But you’d need to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.” Sansa widen her eyes. She didn’t really want to leave now... did she? After all she knew she’ll never be truly free here.

“I... I’m not sure if that’s a wise idea, Lord Baelish.” She conflicted admitted.

“And why’s that? Other than the risks it involves of course.”

“Well, as I said before, King’s Landing is my home now. It has good things despite the corruption.” Only Y/N, she thought.

“All right then. The offer stands, my lady. Keep it in mind.” He turned around to leave Sansa wondering if she’d abandon you to return home or staying here by your side.

“You are glowing, granddaughter of mine.”

Tywin was jotting down something with a quill. “Is there a boy already?” It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. You tried not blush as Sansa’s picture coming to your mind.

“Mmm... no. There is not a... boy.” You concluded kinda nervous.

“If there is not then you should be looking for a suitable swain. I reckon you have many admirers waiting to receive your attention.” He said with a serious tone. Does he really mind? Of course he does. He wants to get a hold of another loyalty for House Lannister. “Many lords would give their whole lands to marry you. And we might need that.”

“But that’s not what I need.” You responded nonchalantly. It was true. All you truly needed and longed for was the love of someone who valued you. And you already found that in a northern lass. You knew he disapprove entirely your “reckless” choices, same as your mother. You’d fight back and won’t allow them to throw you into some random man’s arms.

You stepped inside Joffrey’s dining table. You always enjoyed to hang with the Tyrell siblings, but now that she’s engaged to your brother... you wonder how she’s been managing to handle him. After all, she’s one of the cleverest persons you know.

“Margaery does a great deal of work with the poor back in Hightgarden. I’ve heard Y/N do charity for the poor here as well.” Loras commented. You nodded. The soon to be queen smiled softly your way.

“The lowest among us are no different from the highest if you give them a chance and approach them with an open heart.” You mirrored her act.

“An open heart is what you’ll get in Flee Bottom if you’re not careful, my dear. Not long ago, we were attached by a mob there. We had a full complement of guards that didn’t stop them. The king barely escaped his life.” You hid your smirk.

“My mother’s always had a penchant for drama. Facts become less and less important to her as she grows older. Our lives were never truly in danger.” You rolled your eyes at his lies.

“Oh but they were. You didn’t even care about sending the guards to get lady Sansa back to the Keep. A king is supposed to ensure the safety of all the ones that are in need. You seem to keep failing on that, big brother.” You sensed his furious glare upon you.

“Who cares about her anyway.” You clenched your jaw tightly. Loras and Margaery keep their eyes on their dinner.

There was an awkward pause as the main course was brought to the table. The rest of the evening was all about the same. Joffrey flaunting about his “bravery” and Cersei flattering him all along. Margaery showing off a wide smile at his non sense.

~~~~~~

You strolled to your room exhausted after training with the bow and horse-riding with little Tommen. Before that you decided to pay a visit to Sansa’s chambers. You knocked the door twice and she beamed with delight.

“I hope it isn’t too late to stop by.”

“No, I was about to get under the sheets. Perhaps you can join me?” She suggested with a gaily grin. You chuckled. Seeing Sansa being so... awfully bold was so nice and pure. Being around you made her forget about the fact she’s a prisoner. It didn’t matter as much when you were together.

“I’d love that.” You entered the room, holding her by the waist and leading both of you to the bed.

“How was your day then?” You smoothly asked. She tossed to be face to face with you.

“Actually, it was wonderful! Ser Loras escorted me to the gardens with Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna. They were very kind to me. We had lunch together and chatted for a while.”

“That sounds lovely, my lady. I’ve always consider Lady Olenna as the grandmother I never had. She knows me since I was a baby. Now that they are here I’ve been reminiscing about the good old days when we wouldn’t stop joshing Loras about me beating him on a single duel. We were so young back then... I’ll always hold dear those moments. He may be moody and brash at times, still, he is complete gentleman. Water’s sometimes thicker than blood. That’s for sure.” The Tyrells were your second family, they welcomed you with open arms and never once judge you. Unlike your own blood, with exceptions of course.

“Back in Winterfell I was so focused on learning how to properly be a lady and all that, that I missed many things... I should’ve been closer to Robb, Arya, even Jon. I was mean.” Sansa’s voice cracked.

“Don’t lose faith, Sansa. I know it’s too much to ask for but life takes unexpected turns.” You brushed one of her ginger locks with your right hand.

“I found a new home.” She whispered lightly. “Not Kings Landing. Not this castle. You.” She unhurriedly closed her crystal eyes. Your heart was at her mercy, that was a fact. You caressed gently her cheek and sealed the night with the most tender kiss anyone could dream of.

“You are my home too, my love.” You breathed against her lips.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 16

The Darkling x Reader

'It's work-related Baghra, I'm not here because I miss you'

'Then get to it.' She snapped and walked around you, settling in her seat by the fire.

'How is Alina getting along?'

'Like a wounded animal' You sighed. As much as you hated the woman, she had a knack for training Grisha and always succeeded so this wasn't good.

'How bad is it?'

'She can't light a doorway on her own without Aleksander clutching her wrist.'

'Surely she's not that weak. Maybe you're just losing your touch'

'Get out.' She snapped.

'The Fete is 2 weeks away, it would do you well to make sure she doesn't embarrass herself' You let a subtle threat slip into your words but in reality, you couldn't touch Baghra, Aleksander forbade it himself.

'Or else what? You'll wrap my own shadows around my neck and wring me to death?'

'Perhaps.'

'Foolish girl. You have a pretty face but deep down you are uglier than the Black Heretic himself.' Baghra always seemed to have a paramount of new insult ready to throw your way.

'Well isn't it lucky that I share a bed with him'

'You are absurd'

'Only the best of us are.' With that, you left the blistering heat and made your way back into the palace, your mind drifting back to your first ever encounter with Baghra.

----

'You'll train with Baghra' General Kirigan said as you awkwardly stood in your lavish suite, feeling the ill-fitting Tidemaker kefta weighing heavily on your shoulders.

'I can fight already there's no need' You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go back to your regiment in the First-Army and sleep on an uncomfortable cot surrounded by your friends. The Palace reminded you too much of your old family home to the point of it making you uneasy.

'Not that kind of training' As handsome as the General was, you didn't let yourself succumb to his looks or that faint smile, even if it did erupt small butterflies in your body. Don't trust him.

'Do I have to wear this coat?' It was the first time you'd put it on and although it was very well made, you didn't think it suited you.

'That's your uniform from now on I'm afraid.' He gestured to his own black kefta. It was magnificent.

At the time, you hadn't yet known you could possess more than one Grisha power, but that was about to change really soon as he led you down the narrow steps leading to a hut.

It was nestled deep in the Palace gardens, and you longed for the same privacy. It wasn't anything like the Little Palace with its dull exterior and homely interior. But the heat, oh the heat, it was scalding. You fiddled with the kefta belt and buttons, tugging the thick coat off of you as you looked around, awaiting the woman the General referred to as Baghra.

'Hello?' You folded the blue coat over the back of a chair, feeling too awkward to sit down.

'You must be the Elemental, child you stick out like a sore thumb' An old woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was graying and her clothes looked worn.

'An- wha- elemental?' You tested the words on your tongue, were you not a Grisha?

'Sit.' You did as you were told as she sat opposite you, leaning forward and having a good look at you.

'I've only ever met one of you, you're very rare'

'What am I' The urgency in your voice was strong.

'You take powers from other Grisha. You don't have any of your own.'

'So I'm not a Grisha. Why am I here then?' You scoffed.

'Just because you can't conjure up on your own doesn't mean you are not Grisha'

'I don't want to be here.'

'You've made that quite obvious.'

The room stilled as you thought about which questions to ask next.

'Is it hereditary?'

'Most likely. One doesn't don't know they are an Elemental until they touch a Grisha who is conjuring, hence why you're so rare. There's no test for it.'

'I don't fit in'

'No. You don't.' At least the old woman agreed. 'But don't let that be the reason you flock to change. There are those out there that would kill to have you in their ranks.' She eyed you again, a hidden meaning in her words that you couldn't decipher.

'I can be more than just a Tidemaker?'

'You can be much more, but only if you know how to control it.' She gripped your wrist suddenly, and a weird feeling spread through you, much like the one when General Kirigan touched you. It was like a rush of calm and surety.

'You have potential, a lot of it.'

'How are you going to train me if you've only ever known one of me?' You didn't mean to sound as harsh as you did, but you were growing impatient.

'Grisha science is simple child, even for those who come from Merzost.'

'Merzost?'

'Maybe in due time, Y/N. Maybe then I'll explain.'

-----

She never explained it, never mentioned it to Aleksander, never taught you properly. She held you back constantly and consistently. It was only when you left and almost died did you learn the true reason behind your kind and it still made you apprehensive.

You had yet to dabble in Merzost yourself even though your whole being came from it. You had felt drawn to it sure, but you understood that there was always a price to pay. Like Aleksander with the Fold, or Ilya when he created the amplifiers. You weren't willing to satisfy that silent thirst just yet if it meant sacrificing something dear to you.

The Palace was swimming in life right now despite the brutally cold air. The children had just finished school for the day and were running around playing in the snow while the Summoners were practicing on their grounds. It was nice to hear their laughs and content conversations, a stark contrast to the life you led a mere month ago.

The Little Palace wasn't perfect, but it was the sanctuary Grisha needed and you took pride in the fact that you helped achieve that. Aleksander may have done the bulk of the work, but you put blood, sweat and tears into ensuring that all kinds of Grisha felt safe in Ravka.

You watched as the young Tidemakers used all their might to break through the thick layers of ice on the lake. They worked in unison and in silence as the water shot up and behaved as if it were their puppet and they controlled the strings.

'Reminiscing?' Aleksander appeared at your side in his dramatic black cape.

'When I first came to the Palace, I truly thought I would be stuck as a Tidemaker forever' You laughed at your childish insolence.

'What's so wrong with being a Tidemaker?'

'Hmmm, maybe the fact that East Ravka is land-locked?'

'We have a lake' He pointed out with an amused grin. 'How is Alina?' He changed the topic.

'Your mother is doubtful'

'Isn't she always' His eyebrow raised in a sign of annoyance.

'Claims Alina cannot do anything without an amplifier by her side.'

'She's holding back.'

'Alina or Baghra?'

'Both.' You turned away from him, returning your gaze to the Tidemakers.

'You think she's up to something?'

'When is she not up to something, I fear your return has made her antsy.' You couldn't help but let out a giggle.

'Baghra is unnerved by me, my life goal is complete.'

'She thinks you corrupt me.'

'Does she know it is the other way around?' You mused and took hold of his hand, the action hidden behind his cape.

'I'm offended Ms.Y/L/N. I was under the impression we are both as bad as the other.' He squeezed your hand back, the cool silver ring pressing against your skin. You shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a cape.

'I think I have to go back in' You said as you watched your breath leave in a cloud of fog.

'I think that's best.' He gave your hand one last tight squeeze and let go, leaving a brief kiss against your temple. You watched the elegant sway of the black material as he made his way to Baghra's hut.

You ran back to the warmth of the indoors and requested a food tray be brought back to your chambers while you dealt with stationing new Grisha around the camps. It was tedious and boring but once you got this done, the rest of the day was yours to do whatever you wished. The library was calling your name, but so was the banya. You had spent so much time in the Little Palace covered in mounds of work you completely forgot to enjoy yourself.

As you signed the last station order, you leaned back into your chair with a sigh and sipped the rest of the kvas in your glass. It wasn't even dinner time yet but you found yourself stifling a yawn. Your mind wandered to Aleksander for the umpteenth time that day. Why did he go to Baghra?

-------

His steps were loud as he descended the stairs into the main part of the hut. Baghra was still sitting in her chair from her previous talk with Y/N when she heard the door squeal open.

'Mother.' His voice echoed throughout the small building alongside the crackling of the fire.

'Have you come to ask about your Sun-Summoner? if so then the Witch has already beat you to it'

'Don't call her that, she's your Deputy now'

'I will call that brat whatever I please.'

'Baghra, I am warning you.' He didn't care for her petty games.

'Do you not see her for what she is Aleksander? She hasn't changed. You cannot go back from the atrocities she has committed.'

'Have you forgotten who I am, who we are?' He spat through his teeth.

'But you have a cause Aleksander, she craves power for the simple reason of it being addictive.'

Baghra had tried to reason with her son countless times about the girl. She pleaded with him when he'd first given himself to her, she's a monster, she will ruin you.

'I have shown you so much mercy Mother, am I not kind enough to you? Must you curse the woman I love?'

'Love is foolish my son and it never got you anywhere. She is trouble, let her go.'

'You would be an amazing court jester' He laughed and sat down beside her leaning in closer 'I am an arm's length away from finding the stag and when I do, the sun-summoner will be at our disposal and Ravka will be ours.'

'The stag is fictional. A myth. You are wasting your time.'

'If a Sun-Summoner walks amongst us, a magical stag isn't in the least a doubtful tale.'

'I'll believe it when I see it. Besides, your biggest worry right now is getting rid of the plague that haunts this Palace.'

'And what would that be, do enlighten me, mother.'

'The woman who came in here earlier bragging about sharing your bed.' Aleksander's heart leaped in his chest. She wasn't ashamed to admit it.

He leaned in closer to his mother, taking her worn hand into his.

'I suggest you find a way to get over your hatred for Y/N before it's too late. Nobody disrespects the Queen and gets away with it'

He got up and made his way to the door, ignoring the look of fury on his mother's face. He was too far away to hear her whisper;

'My boy, you will never get either of those things as long as I live.'

-----

Part 17

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @lifeisingrey @edithsvoice

[mitts2002]

Aight’ Bet

Hi this is my first time posting on here so I hope whoever is reading this enjoys!! This is a noritoshi kamo x reader where the nori and (Y/N) need a little push from their wonderful Gojo sensei to finally confess~

"Dont you think (Y/N) and noritoshi would make the cutest couple!?" Gojo screamed over the phone to Utahime who sighed in response.

"I can't help but disagree Gojo, Noritoshi doesn't seem ready for a relationship plus is the only reason you rang me really to discuss our students non existent love lives?" Utahime retorted knowing that the couple would in fact be adorable yet refusing to accept that Gojo could actually be right about something.

"No Utahime! I bet if them two were able to spend a few hours together the tension would build up so high that one of them would burst and BAM a couple would be born" the blue eyed male replied, the volume of his voice increasing with each word trying to convince her that they were the highschool sweethearts the jujustu world needed.

“How could you even say that!? I get that its cute whenever they glance at each other and shy away with cute little blushing cheeks but i bet it would take more than a few hours for a whole relationship to-” “OH you bet“ Gojo interrupted an obvious smirk on his face knowing Utahime wouldn’t back down from his advances.

“you know what i meant idiot i wasn’t actually trying to make a bet with you especially after what happened last time” the black haired woman scoffed after hearing a chuckle through the phone.

“Aight’ bet! tomorrow ill bring my second years to kyoto for some training and then lets see if something happens between our precious students“ Gojo proposed excitedly as if he were a child in a sweet shop.

“you know what fine! and im only agreeing cause i know nothings gonna happen tomorrow between them i mean noritoshi is too stiff and (Y/N) always backs out last minute” utahime exclaimed not wanting to prove Gojo right. “GREAT! if i win then you will have to be my slave for 2 whole days and if you win ill be your-” “wait i never agreed to that!” “see ya tomorrow then!” Gojo had quickly rushed his farewells before hanging up relieved he avoided Utahime’s lecture.

"Alright class!" Gojo sensei yelled excitingly as he burst through the doors. This overgrown man child always had something new, it could never be a regular class where his students actually learn then were let out for a break. No Gojo Satorou had to be the most extra male on this earth and for the first time ever it worked in his second year student (Y/N)'s favour.

"What it is now?" Maki groaned with an annoyed expression on her face. No one could blame her though after all the blindfolded man put his beloved students through. "Don't be so sour maki! Be like me a sweet little mochi~ Oh and before I forget I wanted to let you all know that we will meeting with our lovely sister school for some training. Isnt that great!?" Gojo sensei had announced clapping his hands and smiling brightly.

'I wonder if training is all this is' (Y/N) thought to herself realising how sus this situation was before speaking out "wait Gojo sensei weren't we meant to learn a super secret technique today? You said that you were gonna show it us yesterday and that nothing could stop you" (Y/N) questioned as Inumaki gave a little "shake" for support.

"Well my dear (Y/N) something VERY important has come up and we must go to kyoto immediately. You have no right to deny and we will be leaving in 30 minutes so go grab whatever you kids need" Gojo sensei had practically sung before skipping out the door. What an odd man everyone collectively thought before getting up to grab whatever they needed.

30 minutes has passed and in that time panda had gathered his and maki's weapons while you and toge stocked up on cough medicine and basic medical equipment. The journey was short since Gojo had practically teleported you all there and all that was left was to approach the students.

A few figures from the distance were slowly coming into view and (Y/N) could vaguely make out that only utahime, miwa, mai, momo and noritoshi had attended this last minute joint training.

Despite the others reaching and gathering around your small group of second years giving their greetings the only thing your eyes could focus on was noritoshi’s thick black hair as it gently swayed in the breeze. Honestly it was as if the man was in a L'Oréal advert or something.

"(Y/N) stop staring we all know you both have this weird thing going on but we're here to train not flirt dumbass" Maki had whispered into your ear but little did she know that you were in fact here to flirt and not train due to a certain bet between two teachers.

“alright kids listen up! me and the wonderful Utahime sensei have set up this last minute training as its always good to train with new people and techniques. Everyone will be working in pairs“ Gojo announced before Utahime continued.

“The teams we decided on today will be Maki and Miwa, Momo and Imumaki, Panda and Mai then (Y/N) and Noritoshi. Eveyones free to do whatever they want in their sparring matches just don’t severely injure each other, me and Gojo will be watching over the matches and determine the winners“ Utahime informed all the students before they scurried off to in different spaced out areas.

"So Noritoshi how are you? Its been a while since we've last seen eachother" (Y/N) said trying not to let her nervousness show.

"I'm alright just studying and training to be honest. Although I recently started to practice cursive and can even write my own name now" he responded with pride and a small nice.

You laughed causing Noritoshi to cock his head to the side in confusion. "Is there something wrong with cursive?" His deep voice asked with clear offense.

"No no it's just that's so freaking cute and you look so happy about it too" (Y/N) teased with more laughter and ruffled his hair

"Oi don't touch my hair do you know how long it takes to do these wrap bang things?"

"Well how would I know I've never done them nori"

"Well one day I could teach you if you'd like" Noritoshi offered looking to the side trying to hide his red cheeks.

"Aww I'd love that I'm awful at doing hair to be honest so learning some new styles would be great but first we gotta get this dumb sparring match over and done with" (Y/N) moaned as she got into position.

_______________________________

An hour had flew by and the students were taking a break from their matches happily chatting away while the teachers spoke in private about their progress. “come on look at the way they look at eachother OH (Y/N) touched his shoulder SHES FLIRTIN-” “GOJO SHUT THE FUCK UP YOUR SO DAMN LOUD” “sorry but loooook they in love” Gojo cried out with fake tears in his cerulean eyes

“Alright lets just observe look theyre going to the vending machine to get some drinks like FRIENDS DO“ Utahime emphasised on the friends worried she might lose and become this awful mans slave for 2 days.

_______________________________

“Nori im gonna go get a drink from the vending machine do you want one?” “Actually ill just come with you if you dont mind” “OH sure thats fine does anyone else want anything!?” (Y/N) yelled to the whole group receiving a choir of get me this please or get me that and the single tuna mayo.

The walk to the vending machine was quiet but a comfortable silence had fallen upon the pair. It was always like this when you were around Noritoshi Kamo. Peaceful. She didnt feel the need to go the extra mile to entertain him or ensure he wasn’t bored in your presence as your playful banter and sarcastic remarks towards one another was enough for the both of you. 

“(Y/N) is it me or have Gojo and Utahime sensei been staring at us more than the others?“ Noritoshi questioned unable to shake off the feeling of being watched. “Um i’m not too sure i havent been really paying attention to anything other than yo-“ Embarrasment washed over (Y/N) as the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Is that so?“ Nori smirked slightly as you swore you could drop dead right here in this moment. “No i just meant that” “Meant what?“ Noritoshi interrupted leaning closer as you fumbled through your words

“OH LOOK the vending machine is right there better get those drinks“ You quickly said and scrambled away before Noritoshi could get any closer.

“SEE Nori was too intimidating and (Y/N) ran off despite clearly wanting him! its never gonna happen today“ Utahime whispered to Gojo benhind the bushes as he shook his head. “Trust me i have faith in my wonderful (Y/N) I AINT RAISED NO BITCH“ He exclaimed in response while Utahime facepalmed.

The two young adults had collected all the drinks they needed and were ready to walk back to the group. ‘come on (Y/N) you’ve liked this man forever now and everyone knows he must like you back ITS NOW OR NEVER HOE’ (Y/N) screamed words of encouragement to herself before grabbing Noritoshi’s sleeve.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)?” “I have something ive been meaning to tell you Nori, I um like you a lot and i’d like to take you out if you dont mind” (Y/N) had practically yelled at the poor boy because of her stupid nerves and adrenaline.

The silence was broken by an angelic laughter coming from none other than Noritoshi Kamo. “Well i would’ve liked to be the one to take you out but i guess sometimes its alright for traditions and stereotypes to be broken by the younger generation” Nori responded as he walked closer to (Y/N) wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a sweet kiss. The kiss was messy and clearly new to the both but filled with much love and passion that was finally being expressed by the pair.

As their lips eventually pulled away never wanting this to end, heavy breaths filled the air and cheeks flushed but all that was interrupted by a white haired male clapping in the background screaming “YES I WIN” while the other teacher crouched to the ground tears in her eyes.

[westwingwolf]

In this post, I go into a long, defensive character/ship study for reflection after New Blood so for the sake of not clogging the tag and anyone who doesn’t want to see it or doesn’t want to be spoiled, it’s under the cut.

I think if you are looking for Tim to apologize for some of those early days, you are going to be disappointed. At least for a while. Because Tim sees a lot of what he did as practical training methods he’d use on any other rookie. Whether that’s right or wrong in your opinion, doesn’t matter. It’s how Tim sees it and therefore how the writers intend for him to see it. For all else, any time Tim crossed a line: he was called out, acknowledged it himself, apologized and/or thanked Lucy for her help.

A lot of those things were what Tim was going to do to any rookie if he thought that was the type of training the rookie needed. Tim says he is a show type of guy. He isn’t just going to tell a rookie the wrong or right method. He is going to create a scenario in which they learn it the hard way but in a safe, controlled environment. He was going to kick Jackson out of the car if he got the answer wrong, but Jackson got it right. And when he realized Jackson needed a different type of training to help him get over his fear of gunfire or quit or else Angela would get fired, he changed his tactics. And both times literally end up saving his own life. Lucy knew exactly where she was when she radioed that Tim had been shot. Jackson ran down the armed guy shooting at Tim because Tim said if he couldn’t get into the fight to stay in the car, so Jackson found a way around that.

The way Lucy words it, it doesn’t sound like she believes that Tim tormented her all through the job. Just that first day (well, and the second but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt that those first 2 shifts can be treated like a first day) and some time after. Because the next thing she mentioned as a month later is the bathroom incident. That happened the day Tim came back to work after being shot. In between time which she spent an entire shift with Officer Wrigley(?) who was nice and treated her like a rockstar, and was boring because he wouldn’t take interesting calls. She is stuck with that until Tim questions if she is just going to let a criminal get away when she can do something about it. She called him a pain in her ass which he responded was the job. In that moment you can see that Lucy is not going to back down, and that Tim sees this as how to best train her. Their reactions of each other shows a mutual understanding of the other and the start of an acceptance. And maybe Tim does torment Lucy a little all through the job just to keep her on her toes.

As to the bathroom incident: in Amber, Harper made a point of saying how important it is to find a proper bathroom so that’s obviously something they teach at the academy or veterans learn through experience. And Lucy knew to secure the bathroom which she did. Just not enough. And Tim knew that would probably happen so he took advantage of that. Just as he would if any other rookie who needed that type of training had done that. This happened before he got the call about Isabel. The things he did after, intentionally starting a fight with the biker gang, that was out of line because he was upset about Isabel. And Lucy called him out on that. Just as she has done every time since Tim has stepped over the line.

I don’t believe Lucy actually gets triggered when she walks into a shoe store. Exaggeration to prove a point through humor. I laughed anyways. Especially since I’m sure the things that actually trigger Lucy are more like complete darkness and locked in confined, tight places. Does he say boot more than anyone else? Yes. Does that change depending on the outward image Tim is trying to convey? Also yes. The hardass Tim was those first few days/weeks/months (depending on which timeline we are going with) is not who he truly is. And Lucy knows that. She sticks up for him more than anyone. She calls him out on his shit, but also reminds him he is a good person. That side of him only comes back out when he truly fears not being tough will cause a setback. Such as when he yelled at her for having something in her gun hand other than her gun after Chris was shot and his TO pointed out that he told him how to proceed and his rookie didn’t listen. And Lucy wasn’t even mad at Tim about that because by then she knows him and what he is like. All her anger was at Emmett for stepping in where he shouldn’t. Because Lucy can handle herself, and she can handle Tim. Which Tim knows perfectly well and has said so. If Lucy was truly so upset by all that Tim has done, she wouldn’t insist that they are friends. Yes, she was eager to get out of training, but she also took the time to ensure that they had proper acknowledgment as to the closure of her training. And an acceptance that they would be friends from this point on was admitted by both of them in that “see you tomorrow.”

I’ll grant you the lessons can go overboard, but they actually work. When Lucy was in that bomber’s house after he set a bomb, she told Harper to get clear of the house and radio for help. Why? Because she learned that radio frequencies can sometimes set off bombs. She never forgot that lesson. And used it as payback for Tim later so double bonus.

So here is where Lucy can differ from any other rookie trained the same way by Tim. She learned those lessons and remembers them later when she is more or less by herself. It’s not just something that can be told and hope you remember when the necessary time comes. It is something lived through experience, again in a safer and more controlled environment, that she remembers. Maybe not all rookies would, but she did. And where she differs is how she gets Tim back anytime she feels he needs payback: stealing his money clip, giving him her bar tab as an evaluation, giving him his own powder bomb, etc. Things no other rookie would dare try, and he lets her get away with it. Because I think he actually likes that he found someone who can match his diabolical ways. Honestly, if these two weren’t such good people at heart, they’d pair up to be the world’s greatest supervillains.

Jackson called Lucy out on why would she want Tim to torment someone else if she hated how he treated her. So either she didn’t have that big of a problem with it or she doesn’t like the implication that it was something wrong about her that Tim felt warranted that kind of treatment. Yes, Lucy needs praise. She has always needed praise. Especially from authority figures. (Yes, I know the implications of that from a shipping POV, but if you are already shipping Chenford, you’re either ignoring it or waiting until it’s no longer an issue or both.) It’s clear from her relationship with her parents that she at first tried to get it from them. That’s why she studied psychology. To please them. And once she found what she wanted and stuck with it, she thought they’d be happy for her and she’d get that praise but she didn’t. She is still looking for it in her life. So she looks at this situation as there must have been something wrong with her and somehow the new rookie is better. Which Tim disproves. It wasn’t about her being less than; it’s about her being different and needing different training tactics. And her differences are actually things Lucy values, and Tim values too (clearly as he is tried to get Barnes to see policing as helping people and not as engaging enemy combatants. Plus take a look at how Tim treats people in the community even ones he previously arrested. He still tries to help them.) But Tim recognizes Lucy also needed a different perspective even if her perspective still ultimately wins out. Which Lucy acknowledges in Resolutions. She still chooses to be a cop in her own way. She still values empathy and compassion first and foremost. Seeing the world as the scary place it can be just rounds out her perspective, but it doesn’t overwhelm it. And Tim stopped pushing that perspective after Lucy found out just how scary the world can be. Because Lucy has been though all of that, gained perspective but still stayed true to herself, she is a good cop. Again, something Tim acknowledged. He disavowed her of the idea that she was somehow less, explained his position, and complimented her with probably the highest compliment he could give someone: the respect of being a good cop.

That difference in how Tim & Lucy approach things is what made them such a great partnership. Tim sees things with suspicion first, compassion second. While Lucy is compassion first, suspicion second. They both quickly adapt to either, but also help the other with finding the necessary POV. So they hardly ever miss anything because if one doesn’t see it, the other will. They are complimentary but not so stubborn in their own initial POVs that they force the issue making things worse. If one is passionate in their belief, the other will follow their decision.

So here is my point: whatever they went through before, good and bad, does not have a drastic effect on discouraging their friendship (and possibly romantic relationship). All of that is more or less fond (okay not so fond) memories. They understand each other, have forgiven each other (Lucy more than Tim because Tim crossed more lines), accepted their faults, encouraged each other, acknowledged each other, and basically formed a lasting bond that is more than TO/rookie and even more than most friendships can be lucky to have. Perhaps even more than most romantic relationships get. And frankly, holding any past mistakes over each other’s head to the point of disgruntlement would not lead to a healthy relationship. Which is why I don’t think Lucy truly holds what Tim did against him. I think it was as it appeared: wondering why the new rookie was treated differently and if that is a reflection on her. Which it wasn’t in any negative way. But to make her point about the differences, Lucy had to list the ways Tim handled everything in their early days. And to make his point, Tim clearly explains the differences and what necessitates that difference. An apology for any of that would negate the point he was making. If Lucy was truly upset in any lasting way, she wouldn’t have immediately worried about Barnes, and she wouldn’t have been so happy at Tim’s compliment.

Will Tim ever apologize for the early days? Maybe. Maybe not. Does he need to? I don’t think so. Not for me anyways. Because Tim is a show me type of guy, and he has shown Lucy in so many ways how much he values her. And Lucy has shown that that means more to her than anything.

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

[lovelyirony]

Hi! “If I fail, I’ll fall apart/Maybe it is all a test/because I feel like I’m the worst / so I always act like I’m the best” -Oh No! This is one of my favorite lyrics ever, and I'd really like to see what you bring out of it :) You're amazing, ily! 💞

what if maria had more of an effect on tony’s upbringing than most? howard’s still a dick but make it funny

Tony has known he was probably not the best human on earth ever since he was five and his dad made a bigger deal out of a dead man’s birthday than his own. 

At age five, you don’t really know a lot about the world yet. There were about two things that Tony didn’t know that he wishes he did know: 

1.) The word “fuck.” It would have helped with a lot of his situations. 

2.) The concept of jealousy. He probably could have gone to a child therapist or some shit, he’s not sure if those even existed back then, or if his parents would have even let him go. 

(After all, he’s supposed to be their perfect little boy, just the right amount of precocious and the other amount being something like genius or respectability.) 

It is actually his mother who takes the reins on his life. Howard has effect, he has huge effects. 

Maria is a socialite who absolutely refuses to let her son succumb to Howard’s devil-may-care attitude that he’s so infamous for. Her son is going to be well-mannered, respectable, and know exactly how to treat a lady of high social standing. 

This involves training at a young age. Six would be a fine age. 

It’s not Howard who sends him to boarding schools, it’s Maria. She ensures that he goes to the finest schools available, most abroad in Europe. She trains him out of the American accent, into something a bit more refined. 

He spends summers learning different languages and different skills. He learns how to fence by the time he’s ten, and becomes quite proficient at it. 

She quizzes him on established families, up-and-coming families, and never keeps him far from her sight. 

Anthony Stark is not going to be a wild-child, she decides. 

-

Anthony isn’t, for the most part. Sure, he usually stays up past what is acceptable for the night to work on some mechanic stuff and uses the word “damn” a bit too much for his mother’s liking, but that’s the reason make-up and apologies were invented. 

He follows rules and is known to smile like his mother and enjoy listening to quartets play out in the open air during the summer months. He travels to Europe and participates in various activities and is the talk of many socialites who eagerly await his arrival. 

He’s a portrait, holding still for all’s approval, and he’s not quite sure how to move. 

That’s troublesome, he thinks. 

The problem is this: Anthony Stark doesn’t have any interests outside what is required. He loves working on inventions, and they are necessary for the company to survive, but his father hates any robotic invention he pushes for, and mother thinks that if he tells people he’s rather fond of AC/DC then he’s a plague to society and will be shunned. 

(He doesn’t say it to her face but they haven’t shunned Sunset yet, and she’s a whole world of problems, so rock music is the least of their problems.) 

There is one thing that he pushes for: university in the United States. He’s been traveling to Europe since he was a child, and he honestly needs to do something for himself. 

Maria is not pleased. 

“So after I sacrifice so much for you, this is how you repay me?” she asks him over dinner. 

He places his fork to the correct side. 

“Yes. This is how I am repaying you. By getting a perfectly respectable college degree from a critically-acclaimed university that anyone would be lucky to attend. Not to mention it might reflect badly on Stark Industries if I don’t go to an American college. Do I not trust American institutions to run an American business?” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

Anthony laughs. 

“Mother, they cannot teach me anything that Europe can’t. Let me go to college in the United States. Please.” 

“No.” 

- 

It takes Howard to convince her, and a.) Howard doesn’t even like Anthony that much, and b.) he also doesn’t like his wife that much. 

“He’s going to a damned college here, Maria. We don’t need him to go to any more of that fancy bullshit you call school over there.” 

“Fancy bullshit, Howard?! Bullshit?! You mean what has gotten him this far in life and will make him a better man of social standing than you?” 

“My god, is social standing all that matters to you? What are your little friends going to do, choke on their silver spoons when they find out that your son is going to an American college?” 

- 

Jarvis also convinces her. 

“It will be easier to monitor his progress from a shorter distance,” he advises. “And you can visit frequently.” 

Anthony gives him a very dirty look. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to mention that. 

Oops. 

-

But, Anthony gets his way. He’s going to MIT, and he has a roommate. 

(Okay, so mother doesn’t know that. But he supposes she will if she ever visits. Or maybe not considering if Tony can successfully convince his roommate to “disappear” for at least a day.) 

-

Rhodey does not give a singular shit about high society anything or anyone. Anthony Stark is a name he registers, but doesn’t recognize. 

“Anthony’s a mouthful,” he says a week into their cohabitation. “You have a nickname or something?” 

“Ah...no? I mean, not yet,” Anthony says. 

“How do you feel about Tony?” 

“I...I suppose that that is alright.” 

“Are you from Europe?” 

“No, from New York.” 

“Well holy shit, you sure as fuck don’t sound like it.” 

- 

Anthony--well, Tony now--learns quite a bit about American schooling and what he’s actually supposed to be doing to pass off as normal. 

Rhodey (yeah he got a nickname that ended in ‘y’ too, Tony said he wouldn’t be the only one) takes him to the thrift store and tells him to pick out some clothes. 

“...there’s a shirt that’s advertising a restaurant from Montana.” 

“And? Does it look hilarious?” 

“Is that the point of this?” 

“Fashion is supposed to make you like what you’re wearing or like yourself. I swear if you say that those boring black suits make you feel better about yourself, I will be dragging you to any therapist that will take us for at least five dollars.” 

“Five dollars?” 

“Maybe less if I can negotiate.” 

“Hey!” 

- 

Tony learns how to have fun. He loves it. 

Rhodey makes him go to record stores and find the bargain bin, and they play the warped records and laugh as voices go up and down in pitch. Tony blasts Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden until the RA begs him to go to bed and Rhodey throws all of his pillows off of his bed. 

In return, Tony teaches Rhodey how to read other’s facial expressions, dress for any occasion and be the best-looking there, as well as avoiding any sort of conflict by bringing up past embarrassments. 

“Are you serious about the color of my shoe affecting my social standing?” Rhodey asks, trying to shove his foot into a shoe that was a brown color that Tony had described as a “golden mahogany.” 

“Yes, I’m dead serious.” 

“No fucking wonder everyone says eat the rich all of you are so fucking pretentious. It’s brown, Tony.” 

“Tell that to any high society woman over fifty.” 

“I will.” 

- 

As it turns out, he ends up doing it much sooner than anticipated. 

Tony’s parents come to visit. 

They call him Anthony. Which is gross. Rhodey hasn’t used the name “Anthony” in about six months. 

“I wasn’t aware that you were his roommate,” his mother says. 

“Well, here I am,” Rhodey says. “Name’s also on the information they sent out to the parents about the living situations.” 

Tony tenses as his parents brush off the obvious comment on how little they actually know about his situation and move right into the room. 

Maria stops at the huge poster of a rock band. 

“I assume that this is...James’?” 

“No,” he says timidly. “It’s...it’s mine. Their use of movement on the guitar strings-” 

“Take it down,” Maria demands. “It’s unsightly.” 

“Oh give the kid a break,” Howard says tiredly. “For once he’s not listening to you talk about the merits of paisley prints.” 

“I’m training our son for a more successful life than yours,” Maria hisses. “Of course, you’d have to stay away from your friend Jack to understand that.” 

“Rhodey, leave,” Tony says. “Trust me, it gets messier from here.” 

He does think about it. How easy it would be to walk out and check in with a couple of his other friends and talk about how crazy Tony’s parents are. How he could check back in near dinner time and then Tony could tell him all about how terribly it went. 

But Tony already looks terrible, and he’s doing that weird thing with his hands where he wrings them and then remembers he’s not supposed to wring them and makes it worse. 

“No,” Rhodey says. “I am staying until the bitter end. Who knows? Maybe I can give your mom a heart attack when I ask her the difference between kelly and forest green.” 

Tony grins. 

“You can leave any time, it’s about to get...interesting.” 

- 

Tony’s family is quite dysfunctional. They can put on a good front in public, for what it’s worth. 

Howard is impressed that Rhodey’s planning on going into the Air Force and then talks about Captain America for a lot of the dinner. Rhodey is very uncomfortable and then asks about business and Maria rolls her eyes and orders another glass of wine. 

After Howard finishes up talking about some contract and making vague threats against businesses that Rhodey thinks might actually be in trouble, it’s Maria’s turn. 

“So, Rhodey, where is your family from?” 

“We live in the Boston area,” Rhodey answers. 

“And what do your parents do?” 

“Dad works as a consultant for a local construction company, and my mom works as a high school history teacher. They both like their jobs.” 

“Hm,” Maria remarks, and it’s so light and casual and yet so cutting. Tony can see how Rhodey squirms, and he can’t just let it stand. 

It’s one thing for Maria to cut her own son down until he’s nothing. Still fucked up, but Tony can handle it. He’s been handling it for years. 

“Rhodey, how did your mom come to want to know she liked teaching?” Tony asks. “That sounds like it could be really hard to figure out.” 

“Oh, well it all started when she was in high school and wanted to change how one of her teachers treated students. It was a really inspiring moment for her.” 

“That sounds really cool,” Tony says. “What does she like most about her job?” 

“Probably the kids,” Rhodey says. 

The conversation carries on about Rhodey’s family until their dinner arrives and his mother manages to cut in with more questions. 

“So, what else does your mother do?” 

“She volunteers at the local food kitchen and helps some of the younger kids at the after-school program,” Rhodey answers. “She also makes a mean Thanksgiving turkey.” 

“Would you look at that,” Tony says. “Mrs. Rhodes sounds like a fine cook, I wish I could say the same for you, mother.” 

“Oh?” 

Howard actually laughs at that as he signs for the bill. 

“The kid is right, Maria. At some points I think your kitchen is only used for decoration.” 

“Oh, and you know how to cook, Mr. Stark?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows. “I’d love to see you make anything other than coffee.” 

“I’ll make toast.” 

Rhodey laughs, and so does Tony. 

“Ready to go?” Tony asks, and part of it is a way to get away from an isolated conversation, and part of it is to make his parents leave for their hotel room sooner. 

“Tony, I want to have a talk with you before we retire for the night,” Maria says, and Tony tenses up. 

Rhodey can’t protect him from that, and he squeezes Tony’s hand as they walk behind his parents. 

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers. 

“Maybe,” Tony says. “Maybe.” 

- 

Rhodey goes into their building, and Howard waits in the car. He nods to Tony on his way out. 

“You’ve...changed,” mother says. 

“Well, that’s how humanity goes,” Tony says dryly, looking anywhere but her eyes. 

“Rock music? These snappish remarks towards your own mother? I don’t know if this college was such a good idea.” 

“It is,” Tony says. “I just...learned new things and incorporated it into my life. Nothing the matter with that.” 

“Nothing wrong with that?” Maria reiterates, surprised look on her face. “Rock music is for other people, you know things that others don’t know! You can perform violin and piano, you don’t have to listen to the personal manifestation of a headache!” 

“And if I like that headache?!” Tony asks. “If I like something that’s outside of what you approve, why so angry about it? Is it because you finally can’t control every single aspect about my identity? Is it because I’m not like your perfect little toy that you can make walk and talk how you like?” 

“You know it’s not that.” 

“Isn’t it?” Tony asks. “Because you want me to change every single interest that I’ve found I like by myself. I bet you want me to listen to Bach for fun.” 

“I do not want you to change from who you are,” Maria says. “You have eaten at the finest restaurants in the world and now you brag about making something called ramen in a microwave. A microwave?!” 

“A surprising amount of families in America have them,” Tony says. “And I’m a college student! I’m supposed to eat crappy food and then laugh about it in twenty years!” 

Maria turns red, and her lips screw up into a tight line. 

“I don’t think you should be here,” Maria says. “You’re forgetting your place. Your roommate is...” 

“My roommate is what,” Tony starts, glaring at her. “My roommate is what, mother? You want to honestly finish that sentence?” 

“He’s not good enough!” she yells at him. “You are a Stark!” 

Tony stares at her for a moment. And then another moment. 

“Leave,” he says. “Get the hell out of here.” 

“You don’t tell me-” 

“I do,” Tony says, using his full height to his advantage. “You can tell me how many times I’ve fucked up as many times as you want, but you never talk about James that way ever again.” 

He twists on his heel, forcefully opening the door to the dormitory and not once looking back. 

- 

Rhodey finds Tony back in his room when he gets back from getting ready for the night, and Tony is clutching a pillow and laying face down on the bed. 

“You know, you’ll have to turn over eventually to get some fresh air.” 

“Leave me to die, Rhodey. Oh my god.” 

“That bad?” 

“That bad. She’s probably going to try and put me in a prestigious college or some shit.” 

“Oof. Wanna fake your death and run away?” 

“Please.” 

“Well, too bad. I have a test next week, and you need to do your poetry notes.” 

“But poetry sucks.” 

“It only sucks because you don’t like modern poetry, suck it up and pull it out of your ass or something.” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

- 

Maria is trying very hard to get her son away from MIT and towards a fancy school in Europe. She doesn’t even care where, just away from his roommate and his classic rock posters and the dormitory. Anthony needs an environment where he can focus on networking, meeting more people. 

Howard says no. 

He can’t even bother to remember her son’s birthday, and he says “no.” 

“We need Anthony to go to an American school, and nothing is better besides maybe Cal Tech, and he’ll have to finish another year of college and Hammer Industries can use that as a sign of an unsteady heir.” 

“Well then get rid of his roommate.” 

“I’m not doing that, you’re asking for a PR death sentence.” 

“He’s a bad influence.” 

“No he’s not,” Howard says tiredly. “The kid is finally standing up for himself, and you hate that.” 

“I don’t hate that he can be his own person.” 

“You just wish he were his own person under your specifications,” Howard drawls. “He’s staying at MIT, that’s final.” 

“Hmph.” 

Howard rolls his eyes. 

“Go back to planning whatever charity gala you’re hosting this week, honey. I’m sure things will be fine.” 

Maria doesn’t speak against her husband, just fumes and decides she’s going to try to get Jarvis’ opinion. 

-

Edwin is also a flat no. 

“He will not forgive you if you do this,” he says, pouring her tea and adding in one sugar cube. “He loves his school, he talks about it all the time.” 

“And what, he calls you?” 

Edwin Jarvis realizes he shouldn’t have mentioned this. 

“At times, madam. At times. Will that be all?” 

“...that will be all.” 

Jarvis does bring up a good point. Besides her, of course, he knows Anthony best, even if he does keep calling him Tony. Anthony will grow out of that nickname soon enough. 

She has hope for her boy. He will most likely grow out of this silly little phase in life and finally appreciate her lessons. 

- 

Tony Stark doesn’t. 

Well, he learns her lessons. Can appreciate some of them and how much he hates that he uses them. 

But he learns a far more important lesson from Rhodey, and it shapes everything: 

“You’re your own person, and you’re far better as your own person,” Rhodey says. “I wanted to kick the shit out of you when we first lived together.” 

“You did?” 

“Of course I did!” Rhodey explains, gesturing with his coffee mug and getting yet another stain on the pillow. (Laundry again. Ugh.) “You talked like you were from a movie from the forties, it sucked.” 

“Oh, you mean the transatlantic accent?” 

“It’s pretentious, just ditch it. You’re interesting enough to listen to on your own. I listen to you talk about how much you hate Picasso sculpture, don’t I?” 

“You do,” Tony admits. 

“So then be yourself. Use what your mom taught you sometimes, but otherwise don’t.” 

“You sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure, I’m a fucking genius.” 

Tony snorts. 

“Okay, Mr. ‘I Forgot to Run the Dishes Again.’”

“I already said I was sorry!” 

-

Tony takes Rhodey’s advice into account when he walks into any board room. He wears the worst possible shoes with every single suit, usually uses all sorts of cultural references that fly over the old board members’ heads. 

He does things his way. It’s unconventional, it’s unpredictable, and it earns him a reputation. 

He’s in an interview in a suit and patterned tie (patterned with tiny robots), and the woman is smiling in a plastic way on the other side. 

“Now, a lot of people are saying you’re taking the business world by storm with your unconventional methods and personality. What helped you formulate this, your father?” 

“Oh god no,” Tony says, laughing. “He’d probably curse me to hell and back for even wearing this tie. My mother would drag me back down to hell again for this.” 

“Then who helped you with this?” 

“Rhodey, who else?” Tony asks. “He always gives the best advice, even if I’ll deny that about fifteen minutes later. He really is the reason that I’m who I am today.” 

“Seems like a great guy.” 

“He is. He always is,” Tony says with a grin. “Except, of course, when he doesn’t fold his laundry, that bastard.” 

The interviewer laughs and moves on, but Tony smiles to himself. 

He doesn’t have to be the best, he just has to be Rhodey’s. That’s all that matters. 

[itsclydebitches]

ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D 

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that. 

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek. 

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things? 

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But  characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response. 

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion: 

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home. 

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who? 

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door... 

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home. 

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.” 

What’s more Star Trek than that? 

[jeonsjiddies]

animals (m) | jhs

Summary-  after four years, you run into your ex Hoseok e2l

rating- explicit / 18+

word count-  5k

pairing- hoseok x reader

genre- smut

Warnings-  a little angst, oral (m and f recieving) , road head, car sex, not really edging but like, teasing?, exhibitionism if you squint?

A/N: I got the idea from Animals by Nickelback, so I’ve inserted some of the lyrics that go along with the story, accompanied by “🎶” <3 

🎶🎶🎶 I got this feeling in my veins this train is coming off the track. I'll ask polite if the devil needs a ride, because the angel on my right ain't hanging out with me tonight. 🎶🎶🎶

*four years ago*

“Y/N!” 

 You turned towards the sound of your favorite voice, a grin spreading across your features when his bright eyes met yours. 

 “Good morning, baby.” you giggled as Hoseok wrapped his arms around you and spun you around, holding you close to his chest.

 “Good morning, beautiful!” he smiled, leaning down to place his soft lips on your own.

 You hummed in appreciation, arms entangling themselves around his neck so that you could card your fingers through his silky hair. You felt him grin against your lips before he started peppering small kisses all over your face. You squealed and tried to dodge his antics, though you didn’t really want him to stop.

 “Hobiiiii.” you whined but couldn’t wipe the smile off your features.

 “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” he chuckled, opting to sling an arm around your shoulders instead.

 One of your favorite things about your boyfriend was how affectionate he was. Whether it was cuddles, kisses, or gentle brushes of his skin across yours, Hoseok had to be touching you at all times. Almost like if he wasn’t holding onto you, you’d disappear. His gentle caresses always made you feel safe, wanted, comforted. 

 “Hoseok!” another familiar voice ripped you from your internal monologue and an arm appeared around Hoseok’s shoulders as Jimin joined the two of you.

 “What’s up, Jiminie?” Hoseok grinned, messing up Jimin’s perfectly styled hair.

 “I told you not to call me that.” Jimin huffed, fixing his hair.

 “When have you ever known me to follow directions?” Hoseok laughed.

 “True. Speaking of…” Jimin grinned, stepping in front of the two of you and walking backwards, ensuring he had Hoseok’s full attention, “Have you thought about the Senior prank?”

 Hoseok threw his head back in laughter, making your stomach flutter and your chest fill with warmth.

 “I have it narrowed down. Setting 4 pigs loose, numbered 1, 2, and 4 and watch them look for pig #3. Or… we could dress the statue in the courtyard up in drag?” Hoseok grinned evilly.

 “I love your mischievous little brain.” Jimin grinned.

 “Hobi… aren’t you already on academic probation for sneaking into the principal’s office and covering everything in post-its?” you asked warily.

 “Technically…” he trailed off.

 Hoseok was the sweetest, most caring boyfriend in the world. However, he was a terrible student. He was smart, too smart. He got bored and that’s when his gears started spinning. Hoseok loved being the center of attention, especially if it got a good laugh out of everyone. This got him in more trouble than he should’ve been getting into, and you knew he was on thin ice with the administrative office already.

“Please be careful, baby. This is your senior year, you’re almost out of here. Please don’t get in trouble and jeopardize that…” you sighed.

 “Y/N, it’ll be fine! I won’t get caught. Plus, don’t you want to see the look on their faces? We’ll go down in history as the greatest Senior class ever!” he grinned with excitement, making you shake your head and smile. 

 What could possibly go wrong?

 That’s how you found yourself, dressed in all black, playing lookout while Hoseok, Jimin, and the rest of your gang snuck into the school a few nights later. They crept through the halls to get to the cafeteria, which was lined with beautiful glass walls that led to a courtyard in the middle, where there was a large statue depicting the very first principal of your small high school.

 You could tell who was who even though they had masks covering their faces so that if the school checked the security tapes, they wouldn’t be identified. Hoseok led the group, of course, he was the most impulsive and the most excited to play the prank. They set the shopping bags on the ground and got to work. 

The boys started dressing the statue in women’s lingerie, stuffing the bra with pads (that they’d drawn nipples on). They had an awful, tacky wig they added to the statue, and added bright red lipstick to the stone lips. Hoseok glued a dildo to one of the hands, and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. 

There was a loud clang from the doors and you froze. Your head whipped to the direction the noise came from and you saw the light of a flashlight coming down the hallway. You tried to silently wave down your friends, but they were too busy putting a ridiculous amount of blush on the cheeks of the statue. 

“Guys!” you whisper-yelled, but when they couldn’t hear you, and the light was getting closer, you had to give up and scream. “RUN! SOMEONE’S HERE!”

All the boys froze, then took off in opposite directions. A voice boomed from the hallway after your outburst and the flashlight pointed right into your eyes, momentarily stunning you. A hand grabbed yours and dragged you out of your spot you were rooted to in your haze. You let Hoseok lead you away, running as fast as you could to keep up. 

“Stop!” screamed the voice behind you, and you didn’t dare look back for fear of tripping or worse, finding the police officer chasing you had caught up. 

You spotted Jimin up ahead, and not even two seconds after you spotted his figure, he tripped and fell. You flinched and Hoseok stiffened as pained groans left Jimin’s lips. 

“Go get the car. If I’m not there in two minutes, leave without us. Okay?” Hoseok held your shoulders, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him.He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Hobi-” you began.

He shoved the keys into your hands and took off towards Jimin. You watched him go for a moment before sprinting towards the door and towards his car. You threw yourself into the driver’s seat, your entire body shaking with adrenaline. Your fingers shook trying to shove the keys into the ignition, and you started it up, waiting outside the door you’d exited, watching for Hoseok and Jimin. 

Two minutes passed. Three. Five. You heard police sirens in the distance.  Your whole body went cold, you glanced back at the door, begging Hoseok to come bursting out with a victorious grin plastered on his handsome face, but there was no movement. The sirens got closer, and you began to panic. If you stayed, you could be arrested. Expelled. You could kiss your dream college goodbye. But could you leave Hobi and Jimin? He did say two minutes… and there wasn’t much you could do if they were already caught.  When the sirens turned into flashing blue and red lights, you knew you had to go. 

You didn’t sleep that night, wracked by guilt. You wished you had talked him out of the stupid prank, though you knew you couldn’t have changed his mind. Hoseok was stubborn, and he wanted the last laugh. You sighed, glancing at your phone every two seconds. You didn’t hear from Hoseok that night. 

The next morning, you found him waiting outside the principal’s office. You ran up to him and flung yourself into his arms. He held you against his body, inhaling deeply to surround himself in you. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you call me back?” you fired off all the questions without giving him a chance to respond.

“We got caught, they took us to jail, just for holding don’t worry, they made our parents come get us. My parents took my phone, that’s why I couldn’t call you.” he sighed. “They took the lingerie off the statue too.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I got caught for nothing.” he laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

You sighed, curling yourself into him until the front office secretary cleared her throat.

“Mr. Jung, the principal will see you now.” she spoke. 

Hoseok was suspended through the end of the year. He was allowed to graduate (if only so the school statistics didn’t drop) but wasn’t allowed to walk at graduation. Jimin got a similar punishment, but was allowed to walk since he didn’t have quite as many points against him. He did however, have to serve detention and help the janitor clean the school during that time. 

Hoseok didn’t even frown, just accepted what happened with a smile and a poorly-timed joke. His positivity helped those around him to feel a little better about his situation, but you were gutted.

Hoseok broke up with you three days later.

“Hobi please don’t do this.” you begged through your sobs, your body shaking as the tears freely fell down your face. Unlike every other time he’d seen you cry, Hoseok didn’t wipe them away.

“Y/N, you’re going to college across the country… I’m not. Long distance is hard. I don’t want to hold you back.” he sighed as you clung to his shirt for dear life.

“You won’t hold me back. Please, I’ll come visit every weekend or you can fly out to me. We can video chat every night, I’ll do anything Hobi please.” you sobbed.

“How do you expect to make friends if you’re constantly running back and forth to see me?” he reasoned with you. 

“I don’t need friends. I need you.” you cried.

“You’re going to make something with yourself, Y/N. You don’t need me. You are strong, smart, competent… You’re going to be okay. I promise.” he said softly, peeling your hands gently from their death grip on his collar. “I’m sorry…” he trailed off.

If you hadn’t been so consumed in your own grief, falling in a heap on the floor of your bedroom, you might’ve noticed the way his ever present smile fell from his face, replaced with a broken, hollow look. You might have noticed the way he hesitated, reaching out for you before pausing and pulling back. You might have noticed the single tear streaming down his face before he turned away and walked out of your life.

*present*

You dropped your duffel bag on the bed of your childhood bedroom, flopping yourself onto the freshly washed sheets your mom had prepared for your visit. You’d avoided your hometown like the plague for the entirety of your college career. You’d left immediately after graduation, avoiding Hoseok or anyone who would ask you about him. You were completely heartbroken and needed a fresh start.

It had taken a few months to get to your new normal, and over the past few years, the pain had dulled from a roaring fire to flickering embers. You still thought of him from time to time, you could never truly forget him, but after four years you weren’t as hung up on him as you had been. 

So you finally came home to visit after graduating college with your hard earned degree. Your parents had been over the moon, finally free of the hotel rooms they had to stay in to visit you, and your slightly unsavory roommate. Aromas of your favorite food wafted through the vents and made your mouth water. You couldn’t wait to taste your mom’s cooking again.

“Y/N!” your mom smiled as you walked into the kitchen. 

“Need help?” you asked. 

“Actually, we’re out of butter and you know how your dad won’t eat his rolls without it. Could you pop by the store and grab some?” she pleaded.

“Sure. Anything else?” you wondered.

“No. Thank you babydoll.” your mom smiled, reaching for her purse but you waved her off.

You drove to the store and found the butter, and debated grabbing a bottle of wine to enjoy with dinner. You walked to the liquor aisle and froze in place, hiding behind the end-cap. Stood in front of the whiskey was a familiar head of soft black hair. There was no way it was Hoseok, right? You’d heard he’d moved out of town! 

You covered your face with a magazine you grabbed off the shelf and crept forward, trying to get a better look at the man staring thoughtfully at the whiskey selection. Too busy staring at his calves and how they looked eerily familiar, but also a tad more muscular, you accidentally lowered your shield, and jumped when a voice you could never forget spoke your name for the first time in four years.

“Y/N? Is that you?” he grinned, setting the whiskey down and turning, placing his full attention on you. 

Your breath left your lungs when your eyes met his, the familiar depths of them pulling you in just like they had all those years ago. His plush lips quirked up into a smile, displaying his perfectly straight teeth.Your gaze traveled over his chest, more defined and much broader than you remembered it. His thighs were certainly thicker, and his calves had indeed gained muscle. You ripped your gaze back up to his face, where he had a satisfied smile.

“Hoseok.” you greeted uncomfortably, annoyed with the fact that you could already feel dampness pooling in your underwear.

“How have you been? Did you just get back in town?” he questioned, leaning against the shelf and looking far too good while doing so.

“Yeah, I just graduated college. How have you been?” you asked, eyeing the wine display like it was to blame.

“Good. I’m staying with my parents while I finish building my house.” he explained, and you nodded.

“Ah, that’s nice.” you smiled.

“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to take up your time, but I would love to catch up. Would you be free for coffee sometime?” he tilted his head as he asked the question, one of the things you used to find so adorable you wanted to throw up. It still had the same effect.

“Uh… sure.” you agreed warily.

“Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in.” he reached out.

You handed him the device, captivated by the veins running up his forearms as he typed his number in. He handed it back to you, fingers brushing in the process, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body. You looked up at him in shock and he seemed taken aback as well. Your eyes met and you both froze for a moment before he cleared his throat and sent you a pained smile and a “see you later.”

A few days later, you received a text from Hoseok. Apparently he had texted himself from your phone whilst putting his number in. You gasped and threw your phone when you saw the name pop up, and your father sent you a strange look from his recliner.

“Sorry, one of those pop-up spider videos.” you chuckled nervously, picking the phone back up and reading the message.

Hobi [[3:16 pm]] Hey! Are you free for coffee today?

You stared at the screen, contemplating your options. Should you meet up with him? Four years had passed, surely you could both be mature adults and get along. Before anything ever went down between the two of you, Hoseok was your very best friend. Despite the fact that he broke your heart, you really did miss his company. Could the two of you be friends again? Or would old feelings bubble up to the surface and undo all the months of work you’d spent picking up the pieces of your shattered, lonely heart?

You [[3:20 pm.]] Sure. Four sound okay?

Hobi [[3:25pm.]] Yep, see you then! 

You scrambled up to your room and started digging through your clothes, desperate to find something that both made you look amazing, but didn’t make it look like you were trying to look amazing. You mentally kicked yourself for putting so much thought into it, as Hoseok had already seen you with no makeup and no effort at the store the other night. You shrugged off the thought, pulling on your clothes and putting on simple makeup, just enough to hide your redness and under eye bags. 

You bid your parents a goodbye, your mom asleep on the couch and your dad offering a disinterested wave as you exited the front door. Your small town only had one coffee shop and it wasn’t far away so you decided to walk and give yourself some time to calm down before having to face Hoseok after all these years. Your short encounter in the liquor aisle was enough to rattle you, and you weren’t sure you could handle being face to face with him, all of his attention on you. 

Did he still take his coffee the same way? Did he still make obnoxious jokes? Did his laughter still light up the room? Was his smile still as infectious? Did he still smell like home? You shook your head and opened the door to the small coffee shop, an excited Hoseok lifting his head and waving you over, pearly white teeth on full display. He stood up and enveloped you in a warm hug. His fluffy sweater pressed against your skin was soft and inviting, and he smelled like cinnamon. You stiffened at the action, but soon found yourself melting into his embrace. He pulled back and held onto your shoulders while surveying your face.

“Your hair is longer! You look so grown up. It’s been so long!” he grinned, his appraisal of you stopping when his eyes met yours and a soft smile graced the curve of his lips.

“You grew up too. Have you spent the whole time in the gym? Geez Hobi.” you giggled, conversation easily flowing.

Sitting across from Hoseok, you watched his face light up with that contagious bubbling laughter and it felt like no time had passed, like your best friend had never left you, like everything was back to normal. You felt more at ease than you thought you might have after everything that had gone down between the two of you, but being around Hoseok, basking in his light… it felt right.

“I do a lot of manual labor for work, so I’ve bulked up a little since high school. I didn’t think it was that noticeable.” he trailed off, a light blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. 

“Well, you look great.” you smiled, a little awkwardly.

“So do you! How was university? Did you major in creative writing like you wanted?” he asked, resting his head on his hand and watching you with curiosity.

“I did. I actually double-majored in creative writing and business management.” you explained, a smile adorning your features. 

You couldn’t help yourself. Hoseok just radiated positivity, even after all this time, and being around him was an instant mood boost. 

“What about you? What do you do now?” you wondered, “You said manual labor?”

“I own a construction company.” he grinned proudly, “I think I told you that I was staying with my parents while I had my house built, right? My team is building it, we just got the framework done yesterday actually.” 

“Hobi, that’s so cool!” you praised him, the nickname rolling off your tongue out of habit.

The two of you spent hours tucked away in the quiet corner of that coffee shop, talking and laughing and reminiscing together even as the sun dipped low into the horizon and slowly disappeared, allowing the stars to appear and take its place, illuminating the night sky. You were lost in Hoseok’s eyes and he seemed to be drowning in yours just as much. Neither of you noticed the apprehensive young employee who walked up to the table to inform you they were closing. You jumped back, startled out of your little haze you’d been in. 

She apologized profusely but you’d just giggled and shrugged it off, telling her it was fine. Hoseok grinned at you.

“You’re still so jumpy. You haven’t changed at all.” he chuckled.

“Neither have you. Still bullying me.” you stuck your tongue out, following him as he held the door open for you.

“Where did you park? I’ll walk you to your car.” he smiled.

“I walked here, it’s okay.” you shrugged.

“Oh, there is no way I’m letting you walk home alone in the dark.” he tsked, grabbing your hand gently and leading you over to his car. 

Your skin tingled where it met his, shooting sparks of arousal straight down to your core. Hoseok let go of your hand and cleared his throat, his eyes searching yours for something. You bit your lip nervously at his intense gaze which caused a distressed groan to pour from his lips.

“You still drive me crazy when you do that…” he whispered, almost like he didn’t intend for you to hear it.

“Hobi.” you breathed, air leaving your lungs at his admission. 

His eyes snapped up to yours and both of you seemed to move in slow motion. He stepped closer to you tentatively, his fingers gently brushing your cheek as he cupped it in his large, calloused hand. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, your breath coming out in shaky exhales. You opened your eyes and gazed into his as he slowly leaned forward, giving you time to stop him. When you made no move to do so, he pressed his lips gently to yours.

Suddenly, wildfire seemed to break out between your bodies as Hoseok moved forward and caged your body between the car and his own, fingers carding themselves into your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, your tongue sliding across his bottom lip and he deepened the kiss, letting his wet muscle explore your mouth as he’d done so often all those years ago. 

He brought your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it, earning a low whine from you. A low sound emitted from the back of his throat and he moved his assault to your jaw, moving down to your neck, licking, biting, and sucking on the skin until red-purple marks dotted your skin. Hoseok had always been skilled with his mouth, but damn he’d gotten better over time. You wondered if he’d gotten better in other areas as well… What was the saying? Aged like fine wine?

He rocked his hips into yours, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him. You moaned quietly, letting your head fall to the side to give him more access to the spanse of your neck and chest.  His kisses grew hungrier and soon he was pulling away, panting as he stared into your eyes.

“Need you.” it came out as almost a growl, the carnal need apparent in his lust-darkened eyes.

“Take me.” you whispered, your voice as sultry as you could manage.

“Fuck. Where though? We’re both staying with family.” he groaned, letting his forehead meet the glass of the vehicle beside yours.

You deflated for a moment, thinking neither of you would be able to act on your desire, as the closest motel was at least an hour away. You perked up as an idea popped into your mind.

“Does anyone ever go to that cliff by the old railroad tracks anymore?” you asked him.

Back in high school, you’d both go out by the railroad tracks and sit on the cliff by the willow tree and watch the sunset over the skyline of your small town, wrapped up in each other's arms. Soon, the railroad tracks had stopped functioning and your town didn’t see the need to repair them, just halting the trains that came through altogether in favor of semi trucks instead. 

“I don’t think so.” he answered, looking at you with confusion.

“Your backseat looks pretty roomy…” you trailed off suggestively, a smirk finding its way onto your kiss-swollen lips.

Hoseok didn’t miss a beat, tugging you over to the passenger seat and opening your door like a gentleman, slapping your ass playfully as you entered his car. You squeaked in surprise and he only smirked in response, returning to the driver’s side and taking off towards the old abandoned railroad tracks on the other end of town. 

🎶🎶🎶You’re beside me on the seat, got your hand between my knees and you control how fast we go by just how hard you want to squeeze.🎶🎶🎶

You loved Hoseok at every angle, but one of your favorites had to be his profile, the sharp edges of that jaw just did things to you. Your eyes wandered over his face down his arms, the veins dancing their way up to his large hands. You licked your lips, he looked so sexy driving. You let your hand trail slowly over the center console onto his thigh, rubbing seemingly innocent circles along his jean-covered flesh. Hoseok’s eyes trailed over to you for a moment and you only smiled.

He focused back on the road and your hand trailed farther in, brushing over his clothed length. You palmed him through his jeans and his hips jerked at the action, his alarm causing him to swerve slightly. 

“Y/N.” he voiced a warning.

“Yes?” you giggled.

“I really want to fuck you, but we have to be alive to do that.” he hissed, with no real venom.

“So don’t crash.” you shrugged.

“You’re making it kind of difficult to concentrate.” he shot back.

“Oh?” you grinned mischievously, popping open the button on his jeans and slipping your hand under the waistband of his boxers.

“Oh fuck.” he groaned as you wrapped your hand around his velvety length, swiping your thumb over the tip to gather the precum that had spilled from it.

You leaned down and let your tongue swipe at the path your thumb had just followed and Hoseok shivere, tightening his grip on the wheel. You licked a stripe from his tip down his shaft as far as you could reach in your current position, then took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, allowing your tongue to circle his tip each time you moved back up. Hoseok’s knuckles had turned white with the amount of force he was gripping the wheel with, fighting the desire to grab your hair and use your mouth the way he so desperately wanted to. 

It took every bit of Hoseok’s willpower not to crash the car, fighting as hard as he could to keep his attention on the road and not on the way your mouth felt wrapped around his throbbing member. He thanked his lucky stars as he saw the cliff come into view. He threw the car into park and scooted his seat back so he could watch you work your magic on him. He was seconds away from losing it, which you could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his abdomen and thighs. 

“Fuck, just like that baby, I’m so close…” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes shut. 

You relaxed your throat, breathing through your nose and took him even deeper. When Hoseok hit the back of your throat, he was done for, shooting streams of warm cum down your esophagus. You swallowed it all and sat up, licking your lips seductively. Hoseok was panting, sweat dripping down his face and he laughed, pulling you closer and crashing his lips into your own.

“I’ve missed that filthy mouth of yours.” he purred. “Almost as much as I’ve missed that pretty cunt.” 

His hands trailed up your thigh and under your skirt, brushing his fingers over your panty-covered slit. 

“So wet already and I’ve barely touched you.” he mused. 

“Please. Hobi.” you whined, bucking your hips into his touch as his hot breath fanned over your ear.

“Mmm.. I don’t know, you’ve been a very bad girl…” he teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t just have the time of your life.” you shot back.

“True.” he shrugged. “Get in the back.”

You obeyed immediately, climbing over the seat and giving him a (mostly) unintentional view of your ass in your lacy panties as you did. He swatted at your ass before joining you in the backseat.Your back up against the door, legs spread for him, Hoseok made himself comfortable between your parted thighs. 

You watched with avid attention as Hoseok began kissing up your exposed flesh, starting at your ankles and moving tortuously slow up to the apex of your thighs, giving you slit little teasing licks. You groaned at his teasing, shooting him a glare.

“Patience, baby.” he laughed. 

“Jung Hoseok, I swear if you don’t-OH.” you gasped as he pushed your ruined panties to the side and dove into your heat like a man starved, sucking and licking at your swollen clit like it was the last thing he’d ever do. 

Using your throbbing bud as a distraction, Hoseok worked two fingers into your hole, moving them into a come-hither motion against your g-spot. 

“Fuck, Hobi, right there!” you whined, bucking your hips up to meet his tongue as it circled around your nub and he added a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you vigorously as you careeneed closer to the edge. 

“You’re doing so good for me baby, come on, cum for me.” Hoseok purred, bending down and giving a harsh suck to your clit, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth.

Your orgasm crashed over you, your moans filled the small space as you cried out his name over and over while he worked you through your high. Panting and sweaty, your whole body fell lax against the backseat of his car and he chuckled, moving up to kiss you. 

Hoseok wrapped you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, which was rapidly rising and falling after the intense physical exertion. 

“Holy shit.” you giggled, completely spent and satiated. 

“Yeah… Y/N, I know it’s been a while and we should probably talk, but… I miss you. Things are different now. Do you think… maybe… we could try again?” Hoseok asked, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

You smiled up at him and nodded, allowing a finger to gently trail down his arm. “I miss you too, Hobi. I’m willing to try if you ar- what’s that?” you shot up from his arms, clutching his discarded shirt to your chest.

🎶🎶🎶 We were parked out by the tracks. We're sitting in the back and we just started getting busy when she whispered what was that? The wind, I think 'cause no one else knows where we are, and that was when she started screamin' that's my dad outside the car. Oh please, the keys, they're not in the ignition. Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. I guess they knew that she was missing as I tried to tell her dad it was her mouth that I was kissing. 🎶🎶🎶

Hoseok sat up too, just in time for a flashlight to be shone directly into your eyes, momentarily blinding both of you.

“We found her.” you heard a man say into his radio which beeped after he’d let go of the button.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” you heard your father shriek in disbelief.

“Oh shit.” Hoseok breathed.

🎶🎶🎶 Look at the trouble we’re in. We’re just a couple animals. 🎶🎶🎶

[uniarycode]

Dawn and Dusk

Series: Xros wars/Hunters

Written as part of @digiweek. Day 4, prompt: dark/light

Set shortly after the hunters go to Hong Kong.

Wordcount 2966- a bit heftier than the rest of what I've been posting

Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts.

Yuu did not bring many friends home to the Amano penthouse, but whenever he did the reaction was the same: pure, unabashed jealousy.

His parents were obscenely rich, he was wise enough to recognize it was more than just well off. His home was a middle school student's dream: indoor hot tubs, rooms one could reasonably play basketball in, and no parental supervision. Now, out on the balcony, he could look down and see trees the size of Legos, and a view that stretched out to the ocean. Most kids his age could not help but be envious. To Yuu however, only one feature stood out prominently.

Just how empty it was.

That void grew greater in its sheer size. Ceilings twenty feet high only served to underline just how little there was left to fill the silence. The distance between himself and those he could see on the ground, more metaphor than physical.

His recent trip to Hong Kong had only made this emptiness grow. He loved his sister, and while he’d thought himself used to her absence, it now rushed back to him in full force. They had spent years together in this home, and no matter how many corners it had, each and every one of them hid a precious memory between the pair.

His parents were away; his parents had always been away. Working, logging thirty hours every day to ensure that both he and his children’s children would be able to maintain this life of luxury with no effort on their own part.

So devoted were his parents that the very idea of indulging in such opulence like creature comforts or family were beyond them.

It had taken years for Yuu to associate the concept of ‘father’ with the man who bore the title. And in turn, possessed by Harpymon as he was, his father had not recognized him at all. Next to the protective love for his daughter, the son apparently did not matter at all.

Of all things, Yuu had been mistaken for a prospective suitor, which was certainly not something he wanted to unpack.

And that had been the first time he’d seen his father or his sister in months. Only once before in the year since returning from the digital world had he seen them together. He didn’t hate Nene, he couldn’t hate Nene, but even still, having her leave him like this…. Resentment wasn’t the right word. Bitterness was closer but didn’t quite fit. Envy was the most accurate of the bunch.

Yes, he was envious of Nene, for being able to go out there alone and fulfill her dream, while leaving him behind staring into memories of the past.

“You’re just like Nene.” He’d been told many times, from those who thought it a compliment. They were wrong, he’d initially believed they were wrong on both counts.

Yuu was smart, he knew it, even if he tried to be modest. Concepts just fit together to him in ways as naturally as walking. He even struggled to tutor others. The very idea of not understanding something was one of the few things he himself struggled to understand.

Nene was also intelligent, but it was far from natural. Whatever she did, she threw all her effort behind. With her being the eldest and thus the designated heir, failure was not an option, and she took advantage of every resource necessary to outcompete and outlast the others.

There was only one word he could think of to describe Nene at her most focused: Ruthless. There was no doubt about the success of the Amano corporation under her leadership, she would crush everyone she needed to crush and think little of the consequences. Even in her current profession: becoming an idol was merely a test of how far she could push herself, and Yuu sympathized with any who made the error of underestimating her.

But then, Yuu sympathized with everyone. That had been the other difference he’d believed existed between the siblings. From the lowliest ant to the grandest emperor to the most heinous criminals, he couldn’t stand to harm any of them.

Even the girl who would break the rules to try to steal his friends and swore to turn him into her prisoner, he just couldn’t bring himself to do any lasting harm to. He simply told himself if he was kind enough, if he showed how outmatched she was then Airu would eventually come around, or at least get the help she needed.

His parents had learned his bountiful generosity early. They only sent gifts these days, any allowance would immediately and indiscriminately be forwarded to various charities. He had never seen the problem with it; there were millions who needed money more than him.

He had, in childlike fantasy, seen that as the main distinction between himself and his sister. She had been named for dusk, and he for dawn. She had thrived in cut-throat competition, he had blossomed in a world without scarcity. She was the harbinger of darkness and despair, and he would be the one to lead others to the light.

And yet, he had, with these hands, “So easily…”

And she, in all her ruthless determination, had halted him, saved him.

Even if he didn’t deserve to be saved, maybe it had been out of her own selfishness. Why was his life worth any more than those he’d ended, those he’d tortured? Simply because she knew him and had an emotional attachment? But even that was a blemish on her, sticking her neck out for the likes of him. And he’d done it so easily before, with so little prompting. Who was to say he couldn’t do it again? “Wouldn’t it have been better if I wasn’t saved at all?”

He discovered a surprising bonus to just how long the drop off the balcony was.

“No good, No good.” A voice called out from his pocket. “Thoughts like that are no good at all.”

He stilled his breathing and took a step back. Damemon was right of course. There would be no penance found in death. He couldn’t die now, with the hunt on and needing to help with the digiquartz; his death would be only one more burden he was imparting on those around him.

But he needed to be careful. Damemon was no longer the only Digimon in his Xros loader. He had hunted Superstarmon. That was the point of the hunt, to capture all the Digimon, lost in the Digiquartz.

But the simple idea made his stomach turn. Digimon were living beings, with hopes and dreams, they didn’t deserve to be hunted for sport any more than Taiki or Nene did.

He didn’t feel bad about hunting Superstarmon, the Digimon had himself been hunting Taiki. What worried him, what scared him, was how much he had enjoyed the act of hunting. Of manipulating Tagiru and Ryouma into a situation where he could steal all the glory. Of joint-crossing with Taiki, something that he had been the only one of the original Xros Heart generals to never actually do. Of sneaking Tuwarmon in at the end to steal the capture out from the other hunters.

If he found himself enjoying fighting a bit too much, if he found himself taking joy in the pure act of hunting like Tagiru did, or sacrificing morals for his goals like Airu did? Could he? Would he go back to those times? If he would, shouldn’t he do anything it took to prevent it from happening again? Even if….

He shook his head. If nothing else this last year had proven just how wrong he had been; being compared to Nene was a compliment he didn’t deserve.

His empathy prevented him from truly stopping deranged criminals before they hurt more people. His aptitude was a gift born of biology and circumstance, not an accomplishment to be paraded around.

Even now, he was paralyzed by his own darkness, wallowing in it. While she was on stage, inspiring thousands, becoming the light that kept them moving.

Damemon popped out of his Xros loader. “You need to talk these things through, you can’t just keep it all bottled up.” His partner said.

Talk to whom? This was one subject that he couldn’t even breach with Damemon. ‘Sorry I’m so terrible you had to fight for evil and die’ was even more destined for disaster than his current train wreck of thoughts. “It’s no worse than normal.” He said.

“This is normal?” Damemon asked, seeing through him in an instant. “You need a better normal.”

“It’s just.” He exhaled. “I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. This wasn’t the answer on some test, and he was too wise to search his own knowledge of psychology for an answer. There weren’t any therapists that he could confess to without being either dismissed or thrown in the looney bin. “I got spirited away to another world and became a villain.” is the plot of some anime, not real life.

Tagiru wouldn’t understand. Taiki...might, he was at least physically present and could understand the magnitude of it all. And Taiki was the one who had originally broken through his wishful thinking. But Taiki also tended to attempt to shoulder all burdens by himself, even if there was nothing he could do. There was no reason for Taiki to exhaust himself just for Yuu’s sake.

And somehow, he was too embarrassed to share this weakness with his leader.

“I’m telling you it’s no good.”

It took a few seconds for Yuu to realize his partner wasn’t talking to him and had instead taken advantage of his introspection to swipe his phone.

“Hey.” He objected, reaching down to reclaim it. “You can’t just go calling people.”

“Yuu, are you okay?” His sister’s voice called from the other end of the phone “I’m heading over.” She declared.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, you don’t have to, you can’t-” The line was already dead, he didn’t know how many of his feeble protestations she heard.

The average flight from Hong Kong to Tokyo took over four hours. How Nene left her apartment, procured one, and arrived at his door in less than 2 he didn’t bother to ask. It would have at least required breaking the sound barrier.

But then, barriers had never stopped her before.

“What’s up.” She asked simply

He did his best to muster a scowl. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here; I can take care of myself.”

As was his custom, Damemon destroyed whatever farce Yuu presented. “It’s no good, Yuu’s been having no good thoughts.”

“No good thoughts.” She said quietly, looking between them. “Yuu, you have to understand that wasn’t your fault.”

He quaked but did not respond, her hand reached out to rest on his fist as she repeated herself. “It was not your fault.”

“But it was.” he drew back, “It was my fault. If it hadn’t been for me, then hundreds, thousands, who even knows how many! They all wouldn’t have had to suffer! None of them would have had to die!” he threw his arm out, knocking over some cabinet, a priceless vase colliding to the floor.

Nene seemed unfazed by his outburst, “Bugramon was the one who chose the path of war. You had nothing to do with that, he chose to make them suffer, not you.”

“I chose! I saw them suffering, I saw their pain and I ignored it. No, it’s worse: I enjoyed it! I felt like a god, being able to choose who won and who lost. Using some as pawns to die and keeping others alive for my win.” His voice dropped. “Bugramon didn’t do that. I was the one who did it.”

“That wasn’t your fault either. Darknightmon tricked you. Even I -”

“-Because of me!” he shouted “He used me to enslave, he used me to manipulate you. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to stain your perfect hands. -”

“-Perfect?”

“- God I’m such a screwup. You’re the heir, you’re the eldest. Literally no expectations on me except ‘don’t mess things up’ and I turn both of us into mass murders.”

He felt her arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He couldn’t find the strength to break free, so he stayed there, staining her shirt with his tears.

“I am not perfect.” She said “You are not a screwup. And neither of us are mass murders.”

“We, we.” He couldn’t bear to say it. “It doesn’t matter if they came back. I still…” he unleashed another bought of sobs.

“No good, that thinking is no good.” Damemon insisted. “Death is different to us Digimon. It is unpleasant yes, and best to be avoided. But it’s not like humans do. Digimon never completely die.”

“We are not mass murders.” Nene insisted. “That doesn’t make what either of us did okay, but neither of us are truly murders.”

He wasn’t sure he agreed. His fingers curled into fists. “Even if Digimon come back, humans wouldn’t, right? Taiki had to trick the rose to be set free, you couldn’t just kill him and revive him. And he, I almost.” he couldn’t even bear to say it. “…It was so close.”

Yuu felt a bile burn in his throat, remembering just how little effort more he would have needed to snuff a life out completely. “You too Nene. If Minervamon hadn’t hidden in your Xros loader. In that case I would have, and you would have….”

“But you didn’t,” she said, “and you didn’t intend to. There’s no point worrying about what could have happened if it didn’t happen and you never intended for it to happen. I know you would never want to hurt me.”

He shook his head. It was easy enough to say no harm done, but his nightmares disagreed. Whether or not he was intending to kill her, he was certainly intending on putting a blade through her heart. And he almost did.

She took advantage of his silence to score one more point. “And I am far from perfect. I’m not like you, I stumble more than anyone. Grandma did use to say, it took me a year to learn how to walk, you did it on your first try.”

What did that matter? It wasn’t the first attempt anyone remembered, it was the last one.

“But you always stand back up, and right now, I, I don't.” he swallowed. Everything came to him as easily as walking, and yet, “I don’t always know if I should?”

His sister didn’t respond at first. Perhaps even she was caught off guard by his confession. But then, stumping Nene was a feat he dare not have the audacity to claim.

She held him, bringing them to the ground. One hand rubbed his back, up and down, up and down. “You know, if something were to happen to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“You would survive.” He muttered, “You always seem to.”

“In name, maybe, but I wouldn’t enjoy any of it. I can’t see life without you.”

He continued to sniffle. God, he was so pathetic, crying here like a baby. “I’m not worth it-”

“You are!” she insisted. “You are worth it all. If anything, your biggest issue is you don’t know your worth; you’re too selfless, you value everything else above yourself.”

“I-I-I” she pulled him into her shirt more fully, muffling his resistance.

“One of these days I’ll teach you to be selfish like me. Until then, we’ll have to weaponize that selflessness of yours.” She pulled him away and stared him dead in the eye. “I want you to promise me, whenever you feel like you can’t keep going, whenever it feels like too much, you’ll find a way to pull through. For me.”

He took a few deep breaths. “That’s awful selfish of you.”

“I said I’d teach you to be selfish like me. You’re learning from the best.” She said “Promise.”

“I could never break a promise with you.”

They stared at each other for a few more seconds.

She took a deep breath. “I told you I stumble more than anyone. I’ve faced failure after failure. Going to Hong Kong, Father cut me off. I had no money, no connections, I had to start from zero. I thought there was no way I could keep going more times than I could count.

“And when those times come, I think of you. I think about how you’d stop everything, just to give a funeral to a butterfly. I think about how you’d always try to help everyone, even when too young or too small to be of any real use. You are my light, the thing that keeps me going even when immersed in darkness.”

Her hands were now on the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “Now promise. Promise me that wasn’t all in vain. Promise me that I won’t lose my reason for continuing to push myself. Promise me you’ll keep going, if only for my sake. That’s all it has to be for now.”

Yuu took a deep breath, body shaking as the request percolated through him.

“I promise.”

She smiled, and pulled him close again, suffocating him in her embrace. “And now your first lesson in selfishness: Just let it all out. Don’t worry about me or Damemon or anyone else.”

That night Yuu released a year’s worth of tears.

Note: one etymology for Yuu is twilight, which doesn’t have to mean dawn, but it kind of fits here.

[silentprincess17]

Sometimes Things Have to Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Dawn of the Second Day

TW: Huge wounds, massive haemorrhage (a lot of blood loss yes I am a medic geek) and pain. Also Nintendo owns Legend of Zelda and some of the dialogue used. Please don't sue me.

This time, they teleported in, grabbed him, and teleported out.

Zelda screamed his name, but it got lost in the vortex of red paper slips, as he felt his insides split apart and then reform.

He was glad though. Incredibly glad that they’d taken him and not his Princess. He ended up on the floor, in the big arena that wasn’t an arena and he coughed, trying to get the sand out of his mouth, and eyes.

He heard Zelda shouting for him, and it suddenly hit him-this was it. The perfect opportunity. He could try and get her out. He was outside Hylia above!

And just as he thought that, four giant metal clamps locked onto his limbs. And that same cursed red glowing thing was applied so he couldn’t move. He swore at them but stopped struggling. He would have to bide his time, he already felt a little weak from not eating for three days, so every store of energy was precious right now. He had to wait for the perfect opportunity and then unleash it all.

He took a moment to try and calm down. Think things through. He was outside the cell, that was better than being inside. He just had to be observant and careful. He started by trying to determine what their motive was, but he wasn’t sure what was happening. Why had they decided to take him out, if they were only going to restrain him down again?

He looked up, at least they hadn’t clamped his neck. And then a… well. There was no polite way to think of him, if Link was being honest. And frankly, being polite was really quite low down in his list of concerns at the minute.

The Yiga Clan were... normally, at least, easily categorisable. All the Yiga Foot soldiers were thin, agile, capable of moving at lightning speed with their teleportation. The Blademasters were by comparison much larger, and they wielded the more powerful windcleaver. And now he knew of the researchers, but they looked a lot like the Foot soldiers, just with a red lab coat on.

This man… although dressed as a Yiga, didn’t match one of the above categories. He was, well, fat. He had a huge abdomen, which Link didn’t really see working in a fight, either with a sickle or a windcleaver and he was confused really. It was the most bizarre thing he’d seen since arriving.

Link wondered if the lack of food was getting to him.

“Yeah, IT'S YOU! You're that Link guy I've been looking for! And the Princess of course but she’s BORING."

Uh… what? This guy had been… looking… for him? Not to sound egoistical, but wasn’t it really obvious who he was? He literally wore bright blue and had the Master Sword strapped to his back. Admittedly, he didn’t have those two things right now but…

"I need to bust out my serious moves... A secret technique taught by my mother's father! It will...destroy you!"

Uh yeah. It probably would do that because Link was currently strapped to the floor with no weapons. So, whatever this guy chose to do, it would, in all likelihood, work by default.

“Release him from the magnesis bonds! NO WAIT! I need to finish my speech first!”

This man was starting to get on Link’s nerves, like a bratty child who wanted a sweet. But he just said to release his bonds. Yes, if that happened, he would destroy them all, steal all their weapons, physically break down those bars, rescue his Princess and then hightail it out of the desert. So, he would remain calm. Collected. And not think of what happened yesterday.

“Now. Hero of Hyrule. I will DUEL you. So someone told someone who told someone yada yada yada that I should give you a fair chance, and something testing something Princess, I'm not sure, I fell asleep half-way through, so here we are. Of course, you’re a KNIGHT so I assume you know what a DUEL is!"

Link remained silent. He figured it probably wouldn't work in his favour if he started to laugh.

"You know, your silence really is unnerving. ANYWAY, I will fight with my chosen weapons, and you will be provided with a Duplex Bow, ten arrows, a Vicious Sickle and a Windcleaver. A very generous selection, in my opinion. If you defeat me, I will allow you to walk away.” Link’s eyes widened. “YES, WALK AWAYYY!” He laughed, “I won’t kill you to DEATH! Even-if-that's-what-I-really-want-can-you-imagine-being-named-Top-Banana-Of-The-Yiga-Clan-comma-Slayer-Of-The-Hero!”

Okay yeah, there was clearly something wrong with this guy, but Link focussed on the important parts. A Duel. Of which the outcome would be freedom. But. He hadn’t mentioned Zelda. No matter, Link would be a fool not to accept. He’d defeat this fat lug and then Kill. Them. All.

And those Blademasters that had stood on that cursed table? He’d make sure to find his sword and would ensure they suffered a slow, prolonged death. But first, he’d win, take Zelda to the Castle where she’d be safe, and then he’d come back. And exterminate them like the rats they were.

He nodded.

They dropped the connection, freeing him, and he didn’t try anything. Not yet anyway. Once they gave him weapons though, Link would forgo whatever pact he’d made with this man. This didn’t count as an honourable situation anyway, this wasn’t a duel between Knights, it was a duel between captor and captee.

What he hadn’t been expecting, was the fat man to throw a small capsule in the middle of the hole, and the capsule didn’t fall, no, it hovered in place. And the outlines of a dome formed, it extended from the centre of the seemingly bottom-less hole and spread out to include a small ring of sand around said hole. All of a sudden, sound seemed to stop coming through, and he could barely hear Zelda, although maybe she’d come to realise it was futile and had gone quiet.

The capsule made a clicking noise, like an activation of something, and then a burst of red light cascaded from it, down the dome, forming a crimson-lined grid along the surface, almost like red electricity was crawling along the lines. They connected to metal ridges that Link hadn’t even noticed in the sand. He swallowed. He knew, instinctively, that he wouldn’t be able to escape. He wouldn’t be able to get out. Because it was the same thing that had trapped him in those cuffs.

It would have to be honourable. By default.

Still, Link wasn’t feeling that scared. If the fat man wanted a duel, Link would give it to him.

“In the name of Calamity Ganon!” He pranced around, shimmying from one foot to the other. "That's what you say when you start a DUEL right?!"

Link decided to ignore him, and simply looked over to where he thought the Princess was, the red light made it hard to see. “In the name of Princess Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule, my charge, my liege… my Princess.” And his heart whispered one more thing, my soulmate.

It had started out well enough, the man simply summoned rocks at him, not unlike an octorok, but these ones were considerably larger, with a glowing upside down Sheikah eye on them. Still, he dispatched the obnoxious man in quick time, shooting a well-timed arrow into his head, and then jumping in bullet-time to attack with the sickle.

And then the fat man got angry, stamping his foot into the ground like a child having a tantrum. He moved to hover on top of the hole, and this time he had a blue barrier. Link had wasted one arrow hitting it, only for it to bounce right off. Useless. And there was no way for Link to jump in, seeing as he was without his paraglider and he'd fall down anyway, not sideways to the centre of the abyss where the man was.

So, he bid his time, going as far back as possible and decided to just observe the attack. He remained calm, although for some reason he was a little more flustered than he ordinarily was. Perhaps because the Princess’s safety relied on this fight. Yes, that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but normally, she’d be hidden, well-protected, should anything go wrong with him. This time… If he failed, then who knew what the consequences would be.

He refocussed, the next move simply involved two rocks hovering horizontally and then vertically to the man, where his barrier faulted for a split second, just before he chucked them at Link. It was easy enough to dodge, and now Link knew what to do. He simply hit the man when the barrier was down, and the Yiga lost control of the rocks, so they hit him instead. After another couple of rounds, where Link looked worryingly at his meagre five remaining arrows, another tantrum fest occurred, this time jumping up and down with one foot whilst floating. Link rubbed his eyes in case he was hallucinating. No, he wasn’t.

And that is where everything went wrong.

The man was now using that accursed red thing to move a giant metal ball at him. The ball had spikes. Huge ones at that. And despite Link keeping his eyes trained on the man, his barrier did not fall. Not once.

Crap.

How?! How could the Yiga mentally control metal?! How was he supposed to defeat him now?

The spiked sphere continued to crawl after him, a slow and steady reminder of what was coming. Link was trying hard not to panic. What else could he do? He didn’t have any of his other weapons. He didn’t have shock arrows. He didn’t have his bomb bag. Maybe he could parry the sphere? But he didn’t have a shield either. He cried, almost, thinking back to his prized Hylian shield sitting in the Inn at Kara Kara Bazaar.

What else what else what else

He knew one thing for certain though. He wouldn’t be able to keep up running forever. Not as weak as he currently was from all the stresses over the past two days and the lack of food. Yes, the sphere moved slowly. But it moved. And eventually he would tire.

The man took back the sphere and Link aimed, hoping his barrier would come down for one second, but no. All he did was pause before sending the sphere. Straight. Back. At. Him.

Goddesses above he wouldn’t last.

Was this his true Hero trial?

Was this how he would die?

He decided to try to use the windcleaver to generate some gush of air that would what? Move the giant ball? He was crazy enough to at least attempt because what else could he do? None of his weapons would even reach the man, even if he chucked them, let alone penetrate the seemingly solid blue barrier.

He ran to the edge of the dome, hoping to be a little out of the ball's range to give him some breathing room should this go wrong, but he had no such luck, because it came, hard and fast for him. He waited until it came close then swung the blade down and tried to repel it.

It obviously failed; no colossal, incredibly heavy, metallic sphere was going to shift with the mere power of air.

Belatedly, he realised that the fat man could afford to be fat. Who was going to hurt him if he could levitate himself out into a pit of no end so there was no hope of reaching him, put up a barrier that you had no hope of penetrating, trap you in a hemisphere so you were effectively at his mercy and was armed with a deadly weapon only he could control?

Link only had just about enough time to turn, for his fingers to hit the dome, before the spikes rammed into his back and Link heard himself scream.

He was used to pain, he thought distantly. He’d hurt himself so many times, from climbing accidents, to training mishaps, to when he’d first started fighting monsters, especially those Goddess damned Lynel swords, oh, wait, no, the crushers were worse.

But he’d never had enormous sharp cones ram into his back, upper thigh and calves, all at once. He was effectively pinned against the dome. And then the ball was pulled out, and shoved right back in.

And again.

And again.

And then for flavour, the fat man shifted it just to the right, so now his wounds grew and grew, until he was slowly ripped apart, until the only thing actually holding him upright was the metal sphere.

Link lost track of everything. He’d never felt so humiliated, so weak.

He’d never lost a fight.

What would happen now? What would happen to him and Zelda?

He felt wet, lethargic and so, so heavy. Which struck him as odd, especially considering he’d probably lost a lot of blood. Shouldn’t he be light?

Little spots of blackness coated his vision, somehow he blinked and he was on the floor, on his knees, the dome gone, his hands shaking trying to hold himself up. His blood rushed through his ears, thundering too loudly, and everything else was muted, muffled, and he could no longer focus properly.

"-oga! Did you se- I did i-"

Link must have blacked out again, because the next thing he knew he was being hauled by his armpits back into the cell, and his injuries were stretched even more, and Link screeched in pain. He was so far gone it was silent, and he lost consciousness yet again, because he practically fell on top of Zelda, landing on his front, in her arms. She was shaking, maybe? Or was it him? Probably him, but he couldn’t tell, and he heard her furiously mutter under her breath about hypo-something shock, but really, he was barely holding onto the few remaining threads of consciousness he had.

“Link?” She sounded frightened, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond. Instead, when he opened his mouth, he coughed up an alarming amount of blood. He felt some of it dribble down his chin and he heard her half scream in response.

“LINK! No! In - name of Hylia st- with me! Link!” She gently held his head in her hands, his head rolling in her hold because he'd now lost what little control he had over his muscles. He focussed on the softness of her touch, and how it contrasted so deeply to the agony that he was in, although everything was dulled around the edges right now, probably from the blood loss. He stared at the growing pool of bright crimson around them, it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Like he was a dam that had suffered too many hits and now all the water was leaking through. That wasn’t that far from the truth to be fair.

“Zel-” He tried to say something, to reassure her that he would fight to stay awake. But it ended in another, harsher, coughing fit, and it felt like Daruk had grasped his chest in his hands and squeezed. Dear Goddesses, he felt his vision start to fade again, it was already half faded, in all honesty. And it scared him, because this wasn't the same blackness he'd had after being knocked cold from a fight. This was darker, more permeating. It felt... more permanent.

She cried, and it pained him to see her tears for him, but the blackness forced its way upon him, and he slowly closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to give in, but even from the start he knew it was a losing battle. Vaguely he wondered if the sword would remember him. He wondered what would happen to his family, to Hyrule, to her, if there was no Hero for the Calamity. He wondered, if he'd had more time, more courage, if he and Zelda could have-

She cradled his head in her arms, gently brushing his matted hair away from his forehead, and he allowed himself a final deep breath, for her lavender to imprint in his mind one last time.

Link was not... scared of death. He knew it was inevitable, and there was a significant probability of him dying, either in the line of duty to the Crown, or against the Calamity, his destiny-chosen battle. But... he was scared now. He was scared of what the consequences of him dying meant. Her verdant eyes stared at him, and she was saying something but he could no longer hear. She was his biggest regret, he couldn't stomach leaving her, here and now, because who knew what horrors would await her once he left. So much guilt, so much shame, so much despair hit him, in the final moment but there was nothing left to he done. He tried to convey that to her, through his gaze, that he was sorry, for not being enough, for not doing enough, for failing to get her out of here- the list continued, but he was rapidly losing what little control he had left, and he felt his eyes glaze over. He’d seen enough death to know where he stood. Because everything ached, he felt increasingly weaker, and his breathing grew progressively more ragged, as stabs of pain shot up his ribs for every centimetre he inhaled in.

He gasped for air, one final time, trying to commit her to his memory, and that seemed to be the very last assault his body could handle. Because within seconds he lost all sense of the world, his final thought was of his silent princess, and of a lullaby, that would forever haunt him till the end of time.

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[themadchemist]

I'm curious about your headcanons on the Ascians and the Scions! Of any kind! 😄

Almost all of those are silly and some of them are probably ooc (if you were expecting anything serious, then you've asked the wrong person XD)

Anyway, I had lot fun thinking of those 💙💙💙💙💙

Ascians

Lahabrea:

He's a professor and surprisingly all of his students really enjoy his class since he's so passionate about his subject and goes out of his way to ensure that everyone understands what he's teaching, even though it's extremely hard to actually pass his class.

Sometimes, some other members of the Convocation attend his classes (because they can piss him off and he won't do anything about it during the actual class). The only one who's actually welcomed is Elidibus who pays the utmost attention. On the other hand, Nabriales isn't welcomed at all after a certain stunt he pulled with his time manipulation abilities. (at least it helped him dodge a fire ball aimed at his face).

He's really good at drawing but he doesn't really draw anything "artistic", he only uses this talent to design his creations' appearances. He also has a very nice singing voice but no one's ever heard him sing (except for Anais).

He doesn't have a problem with waking up early or not getting enough sleep because of work but he'd get grumpier than usual if someone wakes him up early on his rare days off.

Emet Selch:

He sometimes locks himself up in his office, claiming that he has so much work and that he's not to be interrupted. He actually either sleeps or reads some play during that time.

He's pretty good at dancing but good luck getting his lazy ass to actually dance.

Sometimes he has insomnia so he attends one of Lahabrea's classes to cure it because he falls asleep instantly when the speaker starts talking. Laha used to yell at him because of it at first but suddenly stopped at some point. (Hythlodaeus told him why). Another place that helps him sleep is Mitron's aquarium.

He used to tell Varis stories about a traveler, their friends and their battles against a grumpy fire obsessed old man.

Elidibus:

He has a very bad case of sweet tooth but he tries so hard to hide it. (he failed and that's how Azem convinced him to help them with that volcano issue.)

He has chess matches with Lahabrea twice a month. He wins 75% of them.

Despite trying to put up a professional front, he's prone to joining Azem and Hyth in their less than serious shenanigans. He either get caught or feels so bad about it that he admits his involvement and apologizes.

Even after spending a long time in Amaurot, he's never memorized the directions to certain places. (it's hard to do so from his low point of view.)

Bonus #1 Hythlodaeus:

While he's normally very relaxed and lenient, he's actually really strict when he decides to work seriously (it happens once every month or two when he needs to catch up on all the work that he's piled up).

Bonus #2 Halmarut:

He's one of the few people who are capable of reigning Lahabrea in and serves as his anger control 95% of the time. He's really tired and he needs a break.

Scions:

Alphinaud and Alisaie:

When they were younger, Alisaie was taller than Alphi but he somehow caught up to her over the years. She hates it and Alphi still has nightmares about Ali out growing him again.

Alphi once asked Alisaie to help him with physical training and she asked him to teach her how to draw. They're still trying to forget these events.

Alisaie is actually good at the "Alphinaud things" she just finds them extremely boring.

Alisaie definitely got into trouble in school for beating up whoever tried to bully Alphinaud and Alphi got into trouble for completely roasting who ever bothered Alisaie.

(Idk how Alphi's carbuncle works but) Alisaie was crushed when the carbuncle chose Alphi instead of her.

Thancred:

Idk why I even have this idea, but I like to think that Thancred grew up on a ship before having to live in Limsa for some reason.

His first friend in Sharlyan? (I don't remember) was Urianger, who was tasked with helping him catch up on the basics. He didn't really understand most of what Urianger said (he still doesn't understand certain things even now) but he didn't ask for someone else because he found Urianger adorable and his manner of speech "absolutely fucking hilarious".

He had a huge crush on Y'shtola when he first met her but it faded after he saw what he calls "Y'shtola's evil twin" when he had to accompany her for shoe shopping once.

He started reading plays and poetry to try to understand Urianger's vocabulary and picked up some lines that he used to impress the ladies. It was so bad at first that even Papalymo noticed it and started making fun of him for it.

Urianger

He's really good with kids and he was absolutely thrilled when he first met Ryne, even more so when she showed an interest in reading and magic.

Thancred would sometimes leave her in Urianger's care for a couple of days.

He taught her all she knows about magic. And cooking and baking some things. They made Thancred a birthday cake once.

Sometimes he pretends that he's reading magic tomes when in reality, he's reading some fantasy novel. The only ones who noticed it were Moenbryda and Thancred.

He definitely taught Ryne about astronomy. He tried to teach Thancred too but he kept falling asleep or disappearing whenever Urianger turned him back.

Bonus #1 Y'shtola:

Idk why but I can imagine her doing embroidery.

Bonus #2 Papalymo and Lyse:

Papalymo is everyone's big bro and he's tired of their shit.

He tried to teach Lyse some magic spells but he quit after the first session. All that Lyse learned that day was that being hit with Papalymo's staff hurt and bruised more than punches.

This is all I can think of for now, sorry for not having many ideas about certain characters.

Hope this wasn't too ooc 😁

[skullrock]

the partners | Steve x Reader

chapter one: please, please, please, let me get what I want 

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: Steve finally agrees to hang out outside of work. 

warnings: swearing, 80s music 

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this chapter is mainly a ton of exposition, but it’s gonna get better I PROMISE. huge thank ya to @wolfish-willow​ who gave me some beautiful ideas (milky coffee + danish loving Steve) that helped this fic come to fruition <3 enjoy!

--

You pull into Hawkin’s Police Department at 7:30, a half hour before your shift. There are two coffees in the cup holders of your car, and a paper bag filled with two pastries on the passenger seat. You pull in beside your partner’s car and he hops out, a smile plastered on his face. He crawls into your passenger side and grabs the bag.

“This one’s yours,” you say, pointing to the coffee cup marked milk w/ dash of coffee. He laughs, pulling out his blueberry danish and handing you your strawberry donut. He bites into his pastry and lets out a sinful moan, making you smack his arm.

“It’s too early for you to be gross,” you say, but he looks victorious.

“I’m sorry you don’t like my happiness,” he quips, and you roll your eyes.

It was tradition that every Monday that you both worked, you’d get coffee and pastries from the local bakery and shoot the shit in your car until your shift started.

“So, I had a dream last night where I was dating Mia Sara,” he says.

“Wish that were me,” you reply, taking a sip of coffee. “Did it work out for you guys?”

“Nah, she left me for Harrison Ford.”

“Tragic.”

He pauses, listening to the music softly coming from your radio. He scoffs upon realizing what was playing.

“Stop listening to this sad shit,” he says, turning the dial, making you shout.

“It’s the Smiths!” You try to bat his hand away, but he manages to change the channel to a Queen song. Typical.

You and Steve had become good friends after securing your positions, despite your perception of him in high school. After the fire at Starcourt and the death of Jim Hopper, the federal government had given the Hawkins Police a grant to let aspiring cops train directly in the field. It would fast-track getting certified, eliminating the need for expensive schooling. It was like a paid internship. A paid internship where you basically get paid to bullshit with your best friend all day.

A third car pulls in. It’s Veronica, the secretary. She takes over on days that Flo wants off – she’s worked hard enough for it. Veronica was a bit obsessed with Steve, so he groaned when he saw her get out and wave.

“What do you think she’s going to say to you today?” you giggle, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Probably, like… that she had a dream about us last night, or something.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “God, please don’t let her talk to me.”

Women were throwing themselves at Steve the minute he put the uniform on, but he claimed he wasn’t interested in dating. You weren’t really sure why, given his history, but he never answered any questions. He just said he wanted to focus on work and having fun, so you let him.

Steve was kind of a mystery to you. You were incredibly close at the station, but you’d been working with him for a few months and you never saw each other outside of work. There were talks of maybe going to a movie, but they never went anywhere. It was bizarre, considering how fond you both were of each other. But you didn’t want to push it, unsure if you were making him uncomfortable.

In reality, Steve was just nervous of letting people in. Not just because of his history with girls and friends, but because he also had Russians and demons to worry about. He felt that if he let anyone new into his life, he would be putting them in mortal danger. This viewpoint is also the reason why he applied for the apprenticeship in the first place.

When the position popped up, Steve had no second thoughts. He had looked up to Hopper greatly since the time Will was possessed. He knew without a doubt that he wanted to follow in Hop’s footsteps. But he also felt an obligation now that Hopper was dead. Joyce had left, taking Will and Eleven with her. The three people who had the best grip on the strange events that had occurred the past three years were gone, and the man who devised most of the plans (and executed them) was gone, too. Steve couldn’t sleep at night for months. He needed to constantly call the kids and Robin to make sure they were safe. Being part of the Hawkins Police seemed like a no-brainer; it was a way to ensure everyone was safe and be on the frontlines to protect them.

Not that he ever let this on; usually he would just say that he’s always wanted to be a cop, and he kept it at that.

You’d decided to do the apprenticeship after college didn’t work out. You went to one in Indianapolis after high school, but you weren’t really into it. Your parents decided to retire and travel for a few years, offering to let you have the house while they’re gone. You gratefully took them up on it, and you’d been living there since the spring. You’d enjoyed a few months off, but decided it was time to find something new to do. You’d always had a fantasy of being a hero. Maybe not a hero cop, but a hero. You wanted to save lives, make an impact. Being a police officer seemed like a good start. You knew it wouldn’t be like the movies, but the strange events that happened the last few years excited you. Maybe you’d get the chance to be someone you’ve always wanted to be.

“Why don’t you just give Veronica a chance?” you ask. “She’s pretty and she’s nice and she’s smart.”

“She literally told me she wanted a lock of my hair,” he says.

You choke on your coffee. “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah? I didn’t.”

Steve’s watch beeps, signaling that it’s 5 minutes until 8.

“Please keep talking to me when we go in,” he begs as you both climb out of the car.

“What’s in it for me?” you inquire.

“I will give you all of the lunches my mom brings me for two weeks.”

You pause. “Even the Fruit Roll-Ups?”

He sighs. “I’ll throw them in if you do a good job.”

You successfully make it past the reception desk without incident, waving hi to Callahan and Powell. You knock on the Chief’s door to signify your arrival, and you and Steve make your way back to the annex you worked in. Your desks faced each other, making it easier to talk through your 8-hour shifts. They were usually pretty boring. You and Steve were only cleared to respond to calls about petty things, like noise disturbances. But it’s not like much ever happened anymore in Hawkins, and the town had almost made it a full year without any weird occurrences.

A few hours go by, and boredom runs rampant. You hated Mondays: things hardly ever happened. Steve gets up around 10:30 and puts a mixtape into the boombox in the annex. Don’t You (Forget About Me) comes on, and Steve mutters, “aw, hell yeah,” under his breath. You know he’s going to start dancing, but it doesn’t stop the surprised smile on your face as he starts to swing and spin and sing. It’s magic, watching Steve dance. It makes no sense, it’s clumsy, it’s so white that it hurts; but it’s also hilarious and never fails to pick you up. Sometimes you’d join him. Other times, you’d call him an idiot. And sometimes you’d just watch as the magic unfolds.

This was one of those times.

--

The door to the annex opens around 1, approximately 5 hours into your shift. You and Steve are begging for something to do, because throwing M&Ms at each other isn’t fun by the second hour. You’d just thrown one at Steve when the door swings open, and you and Steve look at the intruder with wide eyes. It’s the Chief.

The new Chief was okay, you guessed. He was also brought in by the feds. He was a kind older man, with deep set blue eyes and wispy white hair. He could have come straight out of a storybook. You thought the Chief delegated nicely, and you’d shared a few good laughs. Something always felt off, though – but you and Steve chalked that up to the fact that you both were extremely biased against anyone who wasn’t Hop.

“Noise disturbance call,” Chief Edwards says. “Some kids out on Maple Street are causing mayhem.”

Steve groans and throws his head back. “Please tell me it’s not 30 Maple Street.”

The Chief blinks. “It is.”

“God dammit,” Steve says under his breath. It’s Mike’s house.

You and Steve get into a patrol car and set off.

“Do you know these kids?” you ask.

“Yeah, they’re kind of… my kids?”  He scrunches his nose. “I keep them out of trouble.”

You pause, confused. “So, you babysit them?”

“No, no,” Steve says. His face grows slightly red. “They’re my friends.”

Steve pulls into the driveway of the house, blaring the siren once to scare the kids that were on the lawn. Their faces quickly went from scared to excited as they saw it was Steve in the car.

You both get out of the car, and Steve takes the lead. He puts his hands on his hips and faces the kids. There were 4 boys and 2 girls, no older than 16, if you could guess. One of them with dark hair is holding a hose, and the others are wet.

“What are you shitheads doing?” Steve asks sternly. A couple of the kids giggle.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?” the red headed girl asks.

“I told you we were being too loud,” a kid you recognize as Will Byers says. He is smart, sitting on the porch and just watching, amused.

“Right,” says Steve, pointing at Will in recognition. “Way too loud. Mike, where’s your parents?”

There’s a beat, and then the girl standing next to the red head quietly says, “Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler aren’t home.”

Steve sighs. “Alright, well, you could always act like idiots inside the house, you know.” He looks at the dark-haired boy holding the hose. “Mike, what are you doing with that?”

The boy’s face breaks out into a devilish grin, and you can predict what’s about to happen. He points the hose at Steve and a curly haired boy turns the handle to let the water spray out, missing Steve by a hair. He jumps back.

“HEY!” he shouts. “Not cool dude, not in my uniform!”

“Wimp,” you laugh, and push him forward, allowing him to get splashed. The kids cheer, and then Steve’s hands are on your arms, and he swings you around to get hit, too. You gasp at the freezing feeling on the back of your legs, but burst into laughter, trying to wrestle Steve back into the flow. This goes on for entirely too long before you suddenly realize that it probably isn’t a good look to be out here responding to a call and then partaking in the offense.

“Steve,” you say, and that’s all it takes for him to snap back into reality.

“This is fun and all,” he says, letting you go. “But we came to bust you, not join in.”

The curly haired boy turns the water off and Mike sets the hose down. Steve has a way with kids. He’s able to level with them and call them out at the same time. It’s pretty great to watch and it’s certainly something you admired him for.

“Who’s this?” the curly haired kid asks, grinning widely.

“Oh,” Steve says. “This is my partner, Y/N.”

“Do you get to carry a gun?”

“Lucas!”

“Sorry!”

“You hang out with Steve? That must suck,” the dark-haired boy, Mike, says.

“Every single day,” you say solemnly. “It’s the worst.”

“Hey,” Steve says quietly.

“I’m kidding, bud.” You punch his arm lightly. “You’re the best.”

You look back at the kids and they’re all staring at you with wide eyes. It makes you uncomfortable, so you clear your throat and say, “Well, uh – shift is almost over. We should be going.”

After an awkward farewell and another “please be quiet or I’ll kick your ass” from Steve, you both get in the patrol car. Steve sees Dustin gesture to call him, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out of the driveway.

“Why did they look at me like that?” you ask. “Because I said you’re the best?” You pause. “Do they hate you?”

He’s quiet for a while. Finally, he says, “I think it’s because we are really buddy-buddy but… I don’t really… I haven’t ever really… talked about you.”

You turn in your seat to face him. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course I don’t hate you.” His cheeks are red – he’s flustered. “You’re one of my best friends –“

“Then why don’t you ever talk about me? Or hang out with me?”

“It’s complicated,” he sighs. “It’s really complicated. I just – I don’t like … I get nervous about having new friends.”

You nod slowly. “Tommy H. and Carol.”

“Yeah.” It’s not really why he’s nervous, but it’s a good excuse. “I don’t want to get dicked over again.”

“Man,” you say, turning back to face the road. “I buy you a blueberry danish every single Monday. And a coffee. And I let you sing Queen at the top of your lungs, and I let you dance, and sometimes I even let you do it at 5 in the morning. I think if I didn’t want to be your friend, you would know by now.”

He’s quiet, thinking. You look at him, trying to read him.

“I guess I owe you the pleasure of hanging out with me,” he says after a while, a smile forming. “So maybe we can hang out Friday night.”

You gasp and throw your arm out, hitting him on the shoulder, making the car swerve slightly.

“Jesus –”

“Do you mean it?” you shout, smiling widely. “We can hang out?”

“I said maybe,” he teases. “It’s board game night with the kids – maybe you can come?”

You start chanting his name – “Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve! Really? Are you for real?”

“Yes!” He laughs and rolls his eyes again. “I’ll pick you up. It starts at 7.”

You smile so hard that your cheeks hurt.

Steve silently hopes he doesn’t regret this.

----

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