#anyone who can figure out the secret reference in that first image gets to appreciate my bonus joke

[humming-fly]

It’s been months but I still haven’t stopped thinking about how this piece of merch implies greed actually knows how to cook

Bonus:

More of my bullshit: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 9.5 10

[whiteqnn]

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sean invites one of his good friends - Y/N - to play with him and the group. She has a lot of fun with them, but at the same time is too oblivious, too nice, and too pure to notice that one particular Among Us player has taken a liking to her the moment he heard her voice...

Notes: Hello everyone! This is the very first time I’m publishing something bigger in here, I’m honestly still figuring out how Tumblr works, even though I’ve had this account for quite some time now 😅. That being said, please don’t expect anything super impressive. I tried my best though just so you know. 🥺

A/N- It didn’t turn out as I expected, but I really hope at least some of you find it enjoyable :(

Y/C/N - your channel name

part 2

part 3 

part 4 

part 5 

PURE [1]

“Did you guys find anybody?” Felix asked, as the number of players still showed just 7 of them. They could just start now, but the game would be way more fun with a full lobby. 

“Yeah, Lily’s joining. I just texted her the code, so she should be here at any moment.” Sykkuno replied after receiving a text message from the said girl. “Oh, and Corpse also said he’d be joining soon.” 

“Great. Anyone else?”

 “I think Jack was also bringing someone, right?” Dave asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I have one coming, she’ll join us in a few” the asked man replied at the same moment Lily’s character appeared in the lobby. 

“Who you’re bringing Jack?” 

“Y/N” he said, causing Felix to gasp in shock and yell into his mic:

“How the fuck did you manage to convince her? I’ve been bugging her about this game for the past week and she always had some excuse!” 

“What can I say, my charm is irresistible” Jack replied nonchalantly, causing everyone in the lobby to laugh at his fake deep voice.

The number of participants changed to 9, as a little black astronaut with horns on his helmet appeared in the lobby. 

“Corpse, you’re here!” Rae’s character ran up to the man, circling him excitedly. 

“Hey man!”

“What’s up, Corpse?”

“Hello everyone” his deep voice sounded out “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“All good man, we’re still waiting for one person.” Felix reassured him “Sean, why is she not here yet? Are you sure you’ve sent her the right code?”

“Of course I am!” he all but shouted at Felix “And about that, she just texted me to give her a few more minutes and that we should start without her.”

“We can just wait, right?” Lily offered, earning a few hums of approval from the others.

“I think it might take a little longer than a few minutes, she has some problems with her microphone.”

“Who are you guys talking about?” Corpse asked, completely unaware of who Jack was referring to.

“Wait, Jack, you mean Y/N from Y/C/N?” Sykkuno asked suddenly, only then realizing why this name sounded familiar

“Yeah, the one and only” Jack replied, a smile evident in his voice.

“Oh my god, I love her videos!” Rae exclaimed at that “She’s so funny and sweet!”

“Yeah! Her new video is so freaking cute, I wish she’d upload more often.” Poki agreed. 

“Right?” Jack said, clearly very proud of his friend. “But don’t let that sweet demeanor fool you guys cause she’s one of the best players I’ve encountered in this game.”

“That’s true, she’s a secret big brain genius” Toast confirmed, making Pewdiepie gasp once again. 

“wHAT??YOU TWO PLAYED WITH HER?!” Felix’s offended voice boomed through everyone’s headphones “HOW DARE YOU. HOW COULD YOU NOT INVITE ME?!” 

“That’s for not inviting me to your latest Cringe episode!” Jack was quick to respond, making others in the lobby laugh at their mini fight. 

“Oh, so that’s where I recognized her from!” Sykkuno nearly shouted when he finally put two and two together. “I can’t wait to meet her, she seems like a really nice person.”

“She is! When she got impostor for the first time she refused to kill me” Toast explained, earning himself a couple of Aww’s from his friends. “So we just ran around the emergency button until I called the meeting and voted her off.”

“Yeah, only to be her first victim in the next game.” Jack all but giggled, clearly very amused at the memory of Y/N going into a full berserk mode. No one except for him and Toast knew how good she really was at this game... 

“She’s basically the wolf in sheep’s skin” Felix concluded with a chuckle “Very soft wolf, however.”

“She’s like the complete opposite of Corpse, both in voice and personality” Jack suddenly said, making Felix laugh wholeheartedly at something only two of them understood at the moment. 

“I don’t know how should I take that” Corpse admitted with a chuckle. He remained silent for most of the conversation since he didn’t really know who the guys were talking about. But he would lie if he said he wasn’t intrigued by this girl at least in the slightest. Although he heard about her channel, he hasn’t seen any of her videos, so he didn’t really know what to expect. But hearing what gamers like Sean and Felix said about her, he knew he’s not gonna be disappointed once the girl joins them in the game. 

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N talking.” Felix said suddenly with a seemingly very amused voice.

“Imagine Corpse and Y/N both being Impostors” Toast said, which resulted in many of them shouting over each other at how crazy that would be. 

“Alright, now that you mention this I start fearing the moment two of them meet” Jack confessed with loud laughter following the sentence. Corpse chuckled deeply under his breath, at the same time glancing at the questions his audience was asking him in his stream. He could hardly read any, as there were quite a lot of people asking, so all he saw was just a bunch of comments moving at the speed of light in his chat. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was slightly nervous, seeing the growing number of people watching his stream. It was still a rather new thing to him, and he feared he'd say something inappropriate, or just make a complete idiot out of himself. 

"At least no one can see me..." he mumbled under his breath after muting his microphone. 

"Oh! Y/N just texted me! She's joining the call right now!" 

"Fuck yeah!" Felix shouted excitedly "Just so you know Jack, I won't forget that you two played without me."

"Uh-oh. Is that a threat? Are you threatening me now?" 

"It's a warning" Felix replied, receiving a series of gasps from other players. "If I get impostor, you're the first one on my list."

"Okay, everyone heard that! You know who to vote off when I'm dead!" 

"It's so cool to play with someone new, I wonder if she's as good as you guys depict her" Sykkuno spoke up, but before anyone could answer his question, a new character popped up in the lobby.

*** 

"Hi everyone! I’m sorry I left you just like that, but this stream would be completely useless without me being able to answer your questions. Fortunately it wasn’t anything serious, I just had to readjust my mic and go through the settings to find what was wrong. Took some time, but here I am now!” Y/N chirped into her microphone, smiling apologetically at her webcam. At the moments like this, she really appreciated how supportive her audience was. No one was hating on her when she had to get off the stream for a couple of minutes, and everyone was just so understanding that it made her heart melt. Perhaps her audience wasn’t very big, but it felt almost like a second family to her. 

“Anyway, as you already know from my twitter, today I’ll be playing Among Us with my friends and their friends! I can’t wait if I’m being honest, last time I played this game was so much fun, and there was only a few of us.” she admitted with a genuine smile on her face. “Let’s just text Sean now so we can get into the lobby...”

Y/N: Ready to play with you guys ^^

Jackaboy: Great! You got that mic fixed already? 

Y/N: Yes, everything is fine. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.

Jackaboy: It’s all good kiddo, no worries. I’ll call you and send you the code in a sec. 

Y/N: Perfect, thank you Sean :)

Jackaboy: Btw, everyone can’t wait to meet you ;-)Y/N stared at the screen for a moment, only now, seconds before joining the group, realizing how nervous she felt. From Sean’s tweets she saw earlier, she figured that the lobby was right now full of many famous streamers, those she wouldn’t even compare herself to. It’s not that she thought of herself very low, but... being among such youtube celebrities like them made her panic a little bit. She didn’t want to look like a complete fool amongst them. 

Playing or recording with Sean and Felix was something else because she knew those guys for years (and yet still sometimes found herself thinking how lucky she got to be able to call them her friends). She felt good in their company, not worrying about choosing the right words. But amongst the rest of the players, she knew only Toast and talked with Rae maybe once in her life... 

What if the rest won’t like her? 

Y/N cleared her throat, realizing that she was still staring at her phone like hypnotized and her audience was already asking her what’s going on. She quickly typed in the code Sean had texted her and readjusted her headphones, before joining the discord chat.

“THERE SHE IS” screamed Sean, making her grin from ear to ear, hearing how excited he was “Little wonderchild!”

“I think you meant little TRAITOR” Felix corrected him with a scoff. A silence settled in the lobby as everyone was waiting for Y/N to speak up.

“Um... hello everyone..” she said softly, almost inaudibly, a sudden wave of shyness taking over her. “I’m Y/N” 

“Oh, you were right about that Corpse thing!” replied another, also very soft and very sweet voice, and Y/N saw the image of someone named Lily pop up. “It’s like the exact opposite!” 

“See? Told ya. Everyone, meet Y/N/N, the little angel from Y/C/N.” 

“Hey Y/N!”

“Hi there!”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“H-Hi, so great to meet you, Y/N!” a very friendly sounding voice said, and a little lime astronaut with the name Sykkuno above it started running around her. “Can’t wait to play with you!”

“That’s so nice, thank you” she replied with a wide smile on her face, moving around his character as well. “I can’t wait to play with you too, actually with all you guys. It’s so great to be here with you.”

“Jack I swear she’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever heard. Where the hell did you find her?!” Poki all but yelled at the man, making Y/N giggle to herself and in-process loosen up a little bit. They all seemed like someone she’d happily be friends with. 

“Or rather, where do you get one?” someone else commented, making them all burst into laughter, Y/N included. 

“Guys, what did I say about that sweet demeanor...” Jack said after calming down from his fit “Don’t put your guard down just because she sounds like that!”

“Wait- what did you tell them about me?” Y/N asked confused, the tone of her voice making him laugh even more “Jack!”

“Don’t worry, only the good stuff” a very deep, low voice spoke up, leaving her taken aback for a moment. Her eyes widened slightly and she glanced at the name of that person, reading out CORPSE. Now that’s something she didn’t expect... 

“Corpse, mind your manners! You didn’t even introduce yourself!” 

“Oh, shit- yeah, sorry. Um, I’m Corpse, it’s very nice to meet you Y/N” he replied right after, making her lip corners curl up into a smile. 

“Nice to meet you too Corpse, you have a really pleasant voice.” she spoke sweetly, completely unaware of the chaos that was taking place in her stream chat. She didn’t even think of it the way her audience did, she just simply spoke up her mind, and being an incredibly nice person - turned it into a compliment.

“Oh- wow. I mean, thank you so much. I love your voice too, it’s really sweet” he replied, nervously chuckling at the end, before muting his mic. It was, however, enough for Felix and Sean to start teasing him, as the two immediately screamed:

“SIIIMP!!!”

“It’s the voice Felix, I told you he’d fall into her trap!” 

“Wait- he was just being nice, guys! Stop making fun of him” Y/N immediately defended the man, trying to speak up over the hysterical laughter of the other players. 

“Oh my god, but what if they both get impostors and they both pull the voice cards on us?!” Rae managed to yell through all the noise, making Y/N even more confused.

“Wait, what? What do you mean? I don’t understand.” 

“Don’t worry Y/N, that’s how I feel all the time around them.” Sykkuno seemed to be the only one who heard her question, as the rest continued their gabbing without giving her as much as a glance. 

“Alright, let’s start the game maybe. I might have a few old scores to settle” Toast cleared his throat theatrically, his astronaut coming face to face with Y/N’s. 

“Oh, you mean me? I thought I already apologized!” she replied frantically. “You gave me no choice Toast, I didn’t even want to kill you in the first place...”

“BUT YOU DID. IN THE VERY FIRST ROUND” 

“I’m sorry!” 

“Alright, enough! Toast, just don’t kill her right away, okay? Let her run around the map, fearing for her life for a moment.” Y/N gasped upon hearing Jack’s words, clearly sensing the smirk behind his voice. 

“Wha- Jack?! Since when are you against me?!” 

“Don’t worry Y/N, I won’t let them hurt you. You haven’t played with us yet, I’ll protect you.” 

“Oh, thank you so much Sykkuno! I’ll protect you too!” 

“Great. Another one simping...” was Felix’s last words, before the game began. 

Y/N sighed in relief upon seeing the word crewmate forming on her screen, but at the same time feared Toast’s inevitable revenge. She thought they'd already buried the hatchet, but it seemed that he was desperate to make her pay for the last time they played together. 

“Aw, Sykkuno was serious” she mumbled with a smile, when his lime astronaut started circling her white one, so she would follow him. “Okay, let’s do some tasks.”

They both made their way towards the medbay, Sykkuno patiently waiting nearby as she did the scan, then Y/N waiting for him to do the same. The moment his little character stepped towards her, a meeting was called by none other than Felix.

“What happened?” Rae asked.

“I called the meeting because I’m afraid of Jack” he responded, causing everyone to laugh. “Seriously though! Dude’s been following me around the whole time.”

“I was just making sure nobody kills you.”

“Yeah don’t go all Sykkuno on me!” Felix screamed, making the call erupt into even more laughter. 

“Alright, are we skipping?” 

“Yeah.”

“Guys, my life is in danger!” Felix wouldn’t give up. “Come on, show some support! Y/N? You played with him, you know his techniques!” 

“Sorry Felix” Y/N giggled, clicking the skip button. 

When the next round began, Sykkuno was quick to join Y/N on her way towards admin, where they both found Poki doing the upload. They did the card swipe and left her there, when the lights suddenly went off.

“Uh-oh. Let’s head the opposite direction, Sykkuno” the girl murmured, dancing around his character and heading towards Comms instead of going to Electrical. It was the easiest way to die, after all. 

Once they entered the room and waited for someone to fix the lights, Y/N could see another figure appear in the same location. She couldn’t recognize whose character it was, but upon seeing the horns on the helmet she smiled to herself.

“Hey there, Corpse” she said, walking up to the black astronaut, who was standing still in the same place as if he was just watching her and Sykkuno run around Comms instead of doing their tasks. 

They stood like that for a couple of seconds until Corpse turned around and ran away, and that’s when the first body was reported. 

“Oh no, Jack!” 

“Poor guy. He’s gonna haunt us now.”

“Where’s the body?” 

“Navigation” replied Rae, who was the one to find Sean’s green astronauts’ body “Didn’t see anyone around, but I’m pretty sure someone just vented right in front of my eyes...”

“Any suspicions?” Toast asked.

“Um, not really sure, it was the exact same moment the lights went off. I was doing tasks with Jack and then he just died. I only saw the vent close, nothing or no one else.”

“Okay, where are you guys right now?” 

“I’m in admin with Dave, we only passed Poki when we got there.” Lily’s voice sounded out, quickly being joined by Poki’s explanation.

“Yeah, I was finishing the upload when you guys came in, Y/N and Sykkuno saw it”

“Did you see her?” Toast asked, addressing his question towards the white and lime astronauts. 

“Yes, we were doing the card swipe before going to Comms. Corpse joined us for a moment and then left.”

“Yeah, I was on my way to fix the lights when I stumbled upon them in Comms, the body was reported the exact moment I left.”

“Can someone confirm this? I mean, did someone see you besides the two of them?” Toast continued his questioning. 

“I think I only saw Felix in Medbay.”

“Hmm, so no one really knows where you were this whole time. You could easily lure Jack into Navigation and kill him there. Is that what you did, Corpse?”

“Woah, that’s some serious accusation” Corpse replied in his usual, low and calm voice. “Where were you Toast? You seem the only one who still doesn’t have an alibi”

“Neither does Felix.” Y/N spoke innocently, and the mentioned man quickly started his explanation.

“Okay, I was with Jack at the beginning but he clearly can’t confirm this since someone snapped his fucking neck. We’ve split up in O2 after doing our tasks and then he must’ve gone with Rae. I just wandered around the map, escaping from the death.”

“Hmm, so not only were you one of the last people to see him alive, but you also admit to not doing your tasks” Y/N said, trying her best to keep her voice steady and stop herself from laughing. She was sure Sykkuno was doing the same thing, they both refused to do any tasks after the lights went off, after all.

“Yeah, but does that already makes me an Imposter? I’m just scared for my life, that’s all.”

“Y/N has some good logic, but I’m not really sure it’s Pewds. I mean, I saw him in Medbay and he really seemed to be just jogging around.” Corpse said, his voice almost immediately doing its magic, as people more or less willingly agreed to skip this round as well. 

“I think it’s Felix. I mean, I haven’t played with him yet, but I have this feeling that he’s just acting.” Y/N said to her chat after muting herself. She went towards Weapons to do another task, seeing Sykkuno’s little character follow her once again, but the doors were suddenly locked and his lime astronaut remained in Cafeteria. “Oh no, Sykkuno” she sighed with a pout on her face, deciding against waiting for him and risking getting her neck snapped. She finished her task in Weapons and moved towards another location, when suddenly Corpse appeared in front of her, coming right out of nowhere. 

“Oh- Corpse, you scared me to death” Y/N breathed a laugh, watching as his character stood still for a couple of seconds, before circling around her white astronaut. Y/N nodded her head with a smile, even though he couldn’t see her, and followed him in Shields, where they found Poki’s dead body. 

“The body is in Shields” Y/N replied right after reporting the body, only to gasp in shock when she realized more than one person was killed. Red crosses decorated not only Poki’s name but were also visible next to Dave and Lily. 

“What the hell?!” Felix all but yelled into his mic, obviously shocked just like everyone else who was still alive. 

“Now that’s... a lot of bodies” Sykkuno mumbled under his breath. 

“Alright, who’s in Shields? Y/N, you said you found the body there, which one?”

“Poki’s, Corpse was there with me” her reply was followed by his short and low hum. 

“Sykkuno, where are you? I didn’t see you anywhere since the last round.” Felix asked, clearly accusing the lime astronaut of being a murderer. 

“I was... doing the wires in electrical, Toast was there for a moment as well.”

“Yeah but I was only searching for the body, so I saw you maybe for a second” Toast replied, building even more suspicions around Sykkuno.

“But- guys, you know I wouldn’t kill two people in one round, let alone four of them.”

“No one says you did that, I only mentioned that you were nowhere to be seen. You could’ve been sabotaging the map for the other Impostor” Felix said nonchalantly.

“Guys, I-”

“It’s him! It must be him!” Rae shouted through her mic. 

“Sykkuno is 100% innocent, I can vouch for him” Y/N’s voice sounded out in everyone’s headphones “We were together since the start of the game and he didn’t kill me, even though he had quite a number of chances to do so.”

“Weren’t you with Corpse this time?” Felix asked suspiciously.

“I was! But at the beginning, I was with Sykkuno, until someone locked him in Cafeteria. That’s when we split up.”

“And you haven’t seen him ever since?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then I can assure you it was only a matter of time before he’d stab you in the back” Toast concluded, making Sykkuno gasp in confusion.

“Wha- No, I would never do that! Y/N is our guest, I was just making sure she was okay!”

“Sykkuno, simping won’t save your life right now” 

“Wha- I- Guys!” he tried to stutter out some logical explanation “Y/N, don’t believe them!”

“I don’t, I know you’re innocent! C’mon guys, he wouldn’t do it!” 

“Yeah yeah, let’s kick him out. Corpse, who are you voting?” Toast asked, and Y/N could see the I voted sign next to his character. 

“I kinda feel like Felix tries to shift the blame onto Sykkuno. He didn’t even tell his location, and was already throwing accusations on someone else.” Corpse replied after a moment, making the smile widen on Y/N’s face. Someone was finally on her side! 

“That’s because he can’t even explain himself!” Felix exclaimed, voting as well. 

“Besides, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for whoever locked that door, Y/N would be dead as well!” 

“No, I told you I-!”

“Guys, we have ten seconds to vote. Rae?” 

“I think it’s him as well. He was acting suspiciously since we started this round. I vote Sykkuno”

“But..!” 

“No, Sykkuno...” Y/N whispered with a pout on her lips, when she saw the number of people who voted for her lime friend. 

Sykkuno was ejected. 

“Alright, I’m pretty sure it’s Felix. I saw Rae multiple times and she didn’t kill me, Toast also doesn’t act very Impostor like, but maybe that’s just one of his strategies... Corpse is with me again, I don’t think that’s him, I mean, he followed me around last round, but still didn’t do anything, and even vouched for me and Sykkuno when we were both clearly chilling in comms. It can’t be him... right?” 

 Dead body reported.

 “I just saw Corpse kill Toast, then vent!” Rae’s voice blared through Y/N’s headphones, as she looked in shock at the red cross next to Toast’s name. If not him, then..?

“What?” the accused man asked calmly “That’s a self-report, she’s trying to frame me. You guys can’t possibly believe her.”

“I believe her. I saw you enter the Electrical with Toast, then he’s suddenly dead” Felix said. 

“That’s because she vented in there and killed him.”

“No! I swear, Y/N/N you have to believe me!” she directed her words towards the girl who remained silent during their discussion, processing her accusations over and over in her head. “I was fixing the wires, Toast was doing another task, and then boom! I see Corpse snapping his neck!”

“How could you see that if the lights were off?” Y/N suddenly asked, making Rae cut her own sentence off “No one went to fix them, they were off the entire round.”

Silence. 

“It’s Rae, it must be her” Corpse couldn’t help but laugh wholeheartedly at how small was the mistake which completely blew Rae’s cover. “We’re voting Rae, right Y/N?”

“No! Guys, I mean, let me explain, I-!”

Rae was ejected. 

“Now that was something I didn’t expect. I would’ve never thought it was her, I even suspected that Sykkuno might really have been the other Impostor, but now... It’s just me, Corpse, and Felix. I’m clear, clearly, so it must be one of them. And since Corpse protected me for the past few rounds, there’s no other option than...”

Her eyes suddenly widened when the realization hit her, and she quickly turned around to speed towards the emergency button. Fortunately, no one was around to stop her from calling the meeting.

“Felix.” Y/N started, trying to contain her excitement and sound seriously “Where were you when Sean was killed?”

Neither Corpse of Felix said a word, as it was probably the last question they expected her to ask. Felix cleared his throat, however, and finally replied:

“Y/N, that was literally the beginning of a game. How am I supposed to remember what I did then?”

“Well” she said nonchalantly “I, for example, clearly remember the things you said even when we were in the lobby.”

“What are you implying?” 

“Wasn’t it you, who told everyone that Sean was your number one if you get Impostor?” she asked with a wicked smile on her face. Felix was dumbfounded, he obviously didn’t expect her to pull that card on him, hell, he didn’t even know how she knew about it since she wasn’t even in the call at the time. 

“FELIX” Corpse suddenly broke the silence, simultaneously breaking the said man from his train of thoughts. 

“Okay, first of all- YOU WEREN’T EVEN IN THE CALL WHEN I SAID THAT” he yelled through his mic, making both Y/N and Corpse laugh, as it only confirmed their suspicions. 

“See? You only proved my point.” 

“Oh, fuck’s sake- I was just joking okay?!” he tried to defend himself, but hearing how he couldn’t even contain his own laughter anymore, it was clear he already accepted the defeat. “It wasn’t serious, god damn it!” 

“You know what to do, Y/N” Corpse’s voice asked through her headphones, and surely, she knew exactly what to do.

“C’mon Y/N, that’s not fair! At least let me explain myself!” 

“Bye Felix” she said in an overly dramatic tone before Corpse voted as well. 

Soon enough, the sign VICTORY could be seen on her screen, which made her squeak and joy. This game was really fun, even though she was so scared of being killed first. 

“I knew it! I knew you would figure out it’s him! That son of a bitch who murdered me!” Jack basically yelled out, clearly very happy about the result. 

“Y/N, seriously now, how did you know I’ve said that?” Felix asked without even hiding his surprised tone.

“Let’s just say I might’ve stolen some of your viewers, Felix” she admitted, winking at her webcam, a new wave of comments landing on her chat. “Thanks guys!” 

“Okay, that is rude and not fair!” 

“It helped me win, so I’ve got nothing else to say” Y/N grinned from ear to ear, before muting herself for a moment to finally answer some of the questions from her chat, while the rest took a quick break to eat something or go to the bathroom.

She was halfway through telling the story of how she met Sean when she noticed she got a message from a private discord chat. 

CORPSE: That was really impressive :)

Y/N smiled to herself upon seeing his text and quickly typed out the answer. 

Y/N: Thanks!! I wouldn’t have done that without you though, you stood up for me and Sykkuno and all

Y/N: Also, thanks for protecting me from being murdered ^^

CORPSE: No problem, I knew you were innocent right away. 

CORPSE: Anyway, good game, Sean was right saying that you’re one of the best players

She couldn’t help the blush that arose on her cheeks, it was very sweet of him to say that, even though she didn’t actually do much except for exposing Felix. 

Y/N: I wasn’t an Impostor though, so you didn’t really see much :)

She watched the three dots beside his name, that signaled he was still texting. The chat was completely forgotten, but people seemed to quickly notice that small, shy smile on her lips, and the pink tint decoring her cheeks.

CORPSE: Okay, now I’m intrigued... 

Y/N: Maybe we’ll both be Impostors one day ^^

CORPSE: Can’t wait for that to happen.

Soon enough, they returned to the lobby to begin another game. Y/N glanced at her chat for a second, and the moment she returned her eyes to the game, her jaw basically dropped. 

IMPOSTOR was written in bold letters in the middle of the red screen, right above her name.

Corpse’s little character was standing beside her. 

[van-zieksy]

MAJOR spoilers for anyone who has not played The Great Ace Attorney/Dai Gyakuten Saiban yet, but this post is tagged as such. My posts are tagged with "tgaa spoilers" and "dgs spoilers". Now then, let's proceed...

As I was going through my AA photos/screenshots, the image of Barok below caused my otome game brainrot to kick in. Pray forgive the discourtesy of yet another otome-related post. I was thinking about including this photo of Barok in my original post but decided against it. So here are some more thoughts about Barok's route, which also includes the other characters.

Preface: I know otome games are geared towards women, as the name implies, and usually feature a female protagonist/main character (MC), but I decided to keep it gender neutral and refer to MC as „they“, „their“ and „them“, because why not. Everyone is allowed to enjoy these games.

Our MC would get their hands on this photo of young Barok and be utterly confused. They'd use it as an opportunity to talk to him to figure out what happened. Barok sometimes smiles for our MC ever so slightly (and for our MC only!), but he's usually pretty stoic, so they thought he just happens to be someone who simply doesn't smile a lot, but after seeing this old photo, they realise that there must be more to it. Who is that man to his left? He looks very similar to Barok. Why are they so happy? Barok isn't ready to open up and talk about his past because he doesn't trust MC enough yet (kuudere vibes). So MC investigates on their own, which Barok finds out and doesn't appreciate. He thought he finally found someone who respects his boundaries. They have their first fallout and temporarily part ways. A week or so later, MC shows up on Barok's doorstep, quite distraught over what happened. While Barok doesn't want to talk, he can't stand seeing someone he appreciates in pain, so he lets them in. MC explains that they feel bad for disrespecting him and can completely understand that there needs to be a solid foundation of trust first. They assumed that they are already at that stage in their relationship. The player then has the choice to let it go (can lead to a bad or normal ending) or to tell him that they won't leave until he opens up, at least a little. MC tells him that they aren't like other people. They won't fake loyalty only to betray him; instead, they will show sincere loyalty by not letting him be alone. Barok has learned to read people, so he knows he can entrust some of his deepest secrets to MC. After telling them how he has lost so much (the details are left out for now) and how he sometimes questions his stubborn selflessness and dedication to a society that ostracises him, we see him cry for the first time. Our big man sitting on a sofa next to MC, desperately trying to hold back his tears. He apologises for this sudden outburst of emotions. Yet MC carefully puts his arms around Barok, pulling him closer for him to rest his head on their shoulders. These are the tears of someone who hasn’t cried in years, someone who hasn’t had anyone to share his deepest feelings with. MC puts a gentle kiss on Barok’s forehead and promises to assist him in his investigations of the Reaper even if he isn't ready to discuss the events of the past in detail just yet. Barok points out that he may very well be the Reaper, so why is MC the only person who believes in him? Because MC has known Barok for a while now. He has let MC closer than anyone else in the past ten years. MC has seen how he treats people with care and his unwavering belief in justice. There’s warmth and gentleness behind those sad yet deep eyes. (What a heart-wrenching but also endearing CG the player must be graced with here). And that's their big breakthrough. (For anyone who isn’t familiar with the acronym „CG“. It stands for „computer graphic“ and is beautiful art the player can unlock at certain points in the game, usually during an important event or scene).

Let’s get the bad and normal endings out of the way first. I hope no one would pursue a bad ending here because neither Barok nor Kazuma nor Ryunosuke deserve that headache lmao. But seeing the events that transpired in 2-4 and 2-5, this alternate tragic ending certainly would have been a possibility. In the bad ending, Barok is still being prosecuted by Kazuma for Gregson's murder, and subsequently, for "being the Reaper". Barok's innocence with regards to Gregson's murder is established, but Ryunosuke is unable to prove that Barok is not related to the Reaper organisation and hence the prosecution gets him a false guilty verdict for "being the head of the Reaper organisation". Barok has to spend the next few years in prison. He ultimately loses all faith in people. All he now has left is MC, who promises to remain by his side, but only as a friend (at least for now, you never know). Ryunosuke and Kazuma, as well as everyone else, would suffer, too, but it's not their routes, and I want to focus on the happy ending, so I won't go there. The normal ending is essentially the canon events in the games. MC and Barok still become a couple afterwards, albeit the other surrounding circumstances (more on that in the next paragraph) aren’t as fulfilling. I guess we could describe it as a semi-happy or acceptable ending for Barok and everyone else. Which brings us to the happy ending.

In the happy ending, which the player can achieve after having selected all the „right“ choices and, most importantly, MC and Barok have their moment of closeness as described above, 2-4 and 2-5 never happen. Barok enlightens MC about Gregson's involvement in the Reaper organisation but that one piece of the puzzle is still missing, however, he has to keep a low profile so as to not arouse suspicion. Barok enlists Sholmes' and Ryunosuke's services to help him figure out what that last piece is, because Sholmes can do whatever he wants without drawing attention to himself. Ryunosuke is the only person— aside from MC—who Barok has learned to trust. Together with Barok's intel and access to resources, the trio is able to expose Stronghart and Jigoku. Our friends still learn the truth about the Professor case but decide to keep it to themselves. Bad decisions were made ten years ago by everyone involved, but their respective family members needn't bear the burden of those mistakes so they may instead use their own strengths to actually have a positive impact on society. What really matters is that their descendants were able to learn what really happened. Here are the alternate happy endings as well as the events that transpire not too long after the trial:

Gregson never ends up on the ship and survives. He is send to prison to atone for his crimes, yet he will be fine in the long run and swears to make amends for his actions. He apologises to Barok for dragging him into the whole Reaper situation.

Gina vows to visit Gregson often and has already forgiven him. She knows that Gregson’s crimes most certainly are nothing for the faint-hearted, but she understands that she, too, made mistakes in her previous life, like everyone else. She tells Gregson that he deserves a second chance.

Kazuma has no chance to pursue Barok and is grateful that he was stopped in his tracks. Because he's a good person, he made a promise to himself that—unlike his father before him—he will never take "justice" in his own hands and never strike a deal with the dark forces (well, never again, that is, as he did once accept a deal). He understands that the end doesn’t justify the means. Becoming corrupt to stop corruptness defeats the purpose. Because the trial never took place, he won't have to deal with the negative consequences of his actions, such as receiving a penalty or even worse. He promises Ryunosuke/Susato and Barok to become the best prosecutor there is and enrolls in university to complete his studies while simultaneously staying under Barok’s tutelage. He has been revived.

Barok is even more determined now that he's been freed from the curse and knows the truth about his brother. He will always love Klint for who he was as a private person. While he can certainly understand what led to his brother’s actions, he can’t condone them. Also here, the end doesn’t justify the means. Corruptness can't fight corruptness. Barok is glad that he always retained his strength and beliefs and is motivated to now work his way up to Lord Chief Justice and then Attorney General to have an even greater impact on the judicial system so unfortunate situations like ten years ago hopefully never have to occur again.

With Stronghart out of the way, Barok promises to do everything in his power to give Dr. Sithe another chance in life. He is aware of Sithe's positive contributions to the judiciary and does not want for Maria to lose her mother. He knows that she will already struggle enough with accepting the truth about her mother being corrupt as well as a murderer. Barok decided to intervene because he knows that not everyone should be send to the gallows, a change he wants to see in the future. No doubt Sithe will still have to spend a few years in prison, and she won’t be able to go back to being a coroner ever again because there is no foundation of trust anymore, but there is a high chance she will be offered a professor position at the University of London to assist young talent on their paths. Maria takes over her mother’s coroner position because she has proven her dedication to proper justice.

Barok convinces Sholmes and Iris to allow him to assist them with submitting the necessary paperwork to the official authorities to have their inventions properly assessed and approved so they can actually be used as evidence in court. Iris, who has overhead how everyone discussed her heritage in Barok’s office, confronts Barok about their relationship. They make a pinky promise to make up for the lost time, with Barok using his resources and status to assist Iris in fulfilling her dreams. She proclaims that she wants to divide her time between Sholmes’ residence and Barok’s manor(s). Sholmes and Barok promise to become friends.

Yujin never asks Ryunosuke to return to his home country. With Kazuma having chosen to become a prosecutor (at least for now), Yujin and Barok come together to convince both governments to allow a second student to stay in Great Britain. Ryunosuke is provided with the opportunity to enroll in university to get a legal degree and to keep defending people in court when the need arises.

Susato stays on Ryunosuke’s side as his legal assistant and may even be able to become an attorney in the future (once a certain future Attorney General can use his influence to convince the highest powers in the land). Susato and Ryunosuke are happy to be able to stay at Kazuma's side.

Yujin himself is offered a visiting professor position at the University of London. His and Dr. Sithe's paths are probably going to cross in the future. He moves back in with Sholmes for the time being. The detective pair has been reunited.

Barok and MC confess their love for each other and make their relationship official while having their new friends over for tea. Now that MC knows how much he has really lost, how he has been betrayed by so many, and how torturing the past decade was, they vow to never leave his side again and provide him with the love and respect he deserves as a human being.

In the epilogue to Barok’s route after the happy ending, Barok and MC spend a peaceful day at Barok’s countryside manor leisurely strolling through the fields nearby. They come to a stop under the tree where Klint first taught Barok how to use his leg. After reminiscing for a while, Barok gets on his knees before MC to propose to them with the most beautiful ring they’ve ever seen. The tree has a symbolic meaning. Thanks to MC’s stubbornness, Barok is able to smile again like he did in the past around his brother, free from the shackles of mistrust that have plagued him for so long. He pulls out a yard sign with MC’s name on it to officially dedicate the tree to them. The player is rewarded with two beautiful CGs. A wonderful future awaits both of them.

I always pursue happy endings in otome games with lots of save points so I can go back should the need arise. If I have successfully gotten a happy ending, I usually just look up the normal or bad endings online. I want to see characters struggle, just as I want there to be ups and downs, but in the end I want them be rewarded with the happiness they’ve yearned for all along. Thanks for coming to my AA otome TED talk.

[joonie-beanie]

Meet my OM! MC - Bean

Yes, she’s a self-insert MC. But that’s why I’m playing the game so lemme live aljkdaksdl;

Also! Check out this commission of Bean by @/frujiko !

Name: Bean (June is her real name, but they refer to her as Bean most of the time)

Height: 5′8 (173cm)

Age: 23

Sexuality: Bi

Likes:

Sweet foods

Peace and quiet (w/optional soft music playing)

Food that involves noodles

Steak (medium-rare)

Easy-to-play video games (Mario Kart, Smash Bros, etc)

Reading/writing smut

Thunderstorms

Open communication

Dislikes:

Anyone who says that cats are demons

Hot weather

Nail polish (on herself)

Chihuahuas (w/Luke as an exception)

Confrontation

Sudden, loud noises

People who lack patience

Ocular headaches (she only wears glasses when she has one)

Relationships with the Demon Brothers:

Lucifer:

Thinks he’s the most beautiful man in existence.

Is immediately attracted to him at first glance.

However, she’s also intimated by him, so she never goes out of her way to make a statement of her affections.

Lucifer embodies pride, which is the sin Bean lacks most (especially with regards to self-image)--hence why she’s intimidated of him at times. Despite him being kind to her, she feels like he’s in a different league.

Therefore, Bean does her best to treat him normally--trying to be someone he can rely on, and be proud of. (She really loves making him proud).

Lucifer, of course, is aware of the little wall she puts up when around him. Like there are thoughts on her mind that she doesn’t want him to know.

He respects her distance, at first, but eventually attempts to figure out what it is that’s causing her to treat him more distantly than his brothers (yes, it bothers him).

Aside from Bean’s complicated feelings for him, she’s always reminding Lucifer to take care of himself, and asking if she can do anything to help out. 

Since she loves to relax, she hates seeing Lucifer so busy all the time, so if anything, she’ll bring him a meal, or come and ask if he wants someone to make conversation with while he works. (He appreciates her greatly for these little acts of kindness).

Also, once Lucifer finally makes her walls crumble and elicits her true feelings, their relationship becomes more physical (sharing skinship like with his brothers, etc). And she is ESPECIALLY flustered by any show of affection from him.

He tends to use her real name 90% of the time, which she doesn’t have a problem with. (It makes their relationship feel just a little bit more special).

Mammon:

Bean thinks his stupid tsundere ass is cute and annoying all at the same time.

She’ll bully him a little bit, but will always follow up with affection, because she doesn’t want him to take her little jabs to heart.

Since Bean loves the casino, they end up being gambling buddies.

Unlike Mammon, however, Bean knows when to stop. Lucifer only allows Mammon to go to the casino with her 1. Because it’s the Devildom and he doesn’t want Bean going alone, and 2. Bean had promised him that she would make sure Mammon stops gambling once he reaches the end of his prepared budget.

Mammon feels comfortable talking to Bean when he’s not feeling the greatest. Or, rather, there’s no talking, but just him holding onto her tightly, or laying in her lap while she pets his hair.

Bean enjoys all forms of skinship, so she’s more than happy to give him cuddles, hugs, etc. The only time she gets annoyed is when Mammon interrupts her while she’s busy, or gets too clingy.

Overall, the two get along fairly well.

Levi:

Bean loves Levi.

She relates to him in a lot of ways--including being an introvert, and enjoying anime and video games. So, she tries to befriend him.

After the whole TSL incident--once things get worked out--Levi finally allows her into his life, and they become close quite fast.

While she doesn’t understand half the shit he’s talking about sometimes, she listens to him and supports his interests nonetheless.

At least once a week, Levi demands that she come over for a game night. Once his brothers pick up on the trend, they start showing up as well (which peeves Levi sometimes because he just wants to spend time with Bean).

Don’t tell him, but every so often, Bean will message the brothers who tend to show up (Beel, Belphie, Mammon), and ask them to not come to game night since “Levi is having me help with a dungeon run and wants peace and quiet”.

....he has never said that to her, but she knows he wants to have some alone time, and so does she, so Bean doesn’t feel bad making up a little white lie.

Also, she absolutely loves giving him affection. She honestly can’t explain her need to kiss him on the cheek, or hug him for a solid 10 seconds, but it happens fairly often once their relationship gets better.

Maybe it’s the way he blushes, and slowly begins returning all of her shows of affection? Yeah, that might be it.

Satan:

Their relationship revolves around literature, love of cats, and late night discussions.

Bean and Satan see each other as someone they can have a solid, intellectual conversation with, so sometimes they’ll show up at each others doors with a bottle of wine, and a topic in mind, and will rally the conversation back and forth until they’re too tired, or tipsy, to keep going.

Bean misses her cats back up in the human world, so Satan makes a point of taking her to cat cafes, or sending her stupid cat videos on Deviltube whenever he finds one.

Bean isn’t into classic literature like Satan, but once the demon finds out she enjoys writing, he becomes entirely too curious as to what, and eventually (after Satan wears on her enough), she admits that she writes smut.

Satan becomes her unintentional beta-reader, once she shares a piece with him, and he actually gives her very constructive feedback.

He promises to keep her dirty secret (hah) from his brothers, if she sends him what she considers to be her best stories so far (because he honestly does enjoy her writing).

At the end of the day, the two have a comfortable, friendly relationship, and really value each other. Simple forms of skinship between the two come as natural as breathing air.

Asmo:

Asmo is absolutely the self-care force in Bean’s life that she both needs and fears.

Despite his self-centered nature, he’ll be damned if he allows Bean to leave the Devildom feeling anything but confident in herself.

And so, in spite of the fact that in the beginning, Bean wants to run away from Asmo, eventually he manages to become someone that she feels she can confide in. Especially when it comes to her body-image issues.

She feels like such a burden when she’s having a bad day, but Asmo is more than happy to be there for her--whether she asks or not--and she really appreciates him for that.

She’s also more than happy to be Asmo’s doll to dress up, put make-up on, etc. and he loves her for that. Of course, he loves to do those things to himself, but it’s so much fun to have a willing subject.

The two also have a habit of giving gifts to each other. Bean gives Asmo a gift to thank him for his kindness towards her, and then suddenly they’re in a constant back and forth of never ending gift giving. (It’s honestly really sweet).

And when it comes to skinship, Asmo is very open--giving hugs, kisses, etc. And whenever Bean initiates skinship with him of her own accord, he honestly melts a little.

Beel:

BIG TEDDY BEAR. Oh, and food buddy.

Bean wants to cuddle with Beel literally whenever possible. She loves walking up and being able to hug him with her face pressed between his tiddies. Because she’s tall herself, knowing a big boy like Beel excites her so much.

And of course, Beel loves all of her hugs, and shows of affection. He accepts them all with a smile, and is more than happy to reciprocate.

One time, Beel picks Bean up during a hug, and she gasps. Beel immediately worries if he had hurt her, but she just says she’s not used to anyone being able to lift her up, and Beel then makes a point of lifting her   into hugs. He also gives her piggy back rides when appropriate, and her heart is so full for him. 

They also end up going out to eat together quite a lot. Beel wants to introduce her to all of his fave Devildom foods, and Bean happily goes along with him.

If there’s ever a day where Bean’s self-image isn’t the best, Beel will make sure she doesn’t skip any meals. And if she expresses the want to change her diet, or start an easy exercise routine, he’ll be more than happy to help her out.

The two tend to go on evening walks together--since it’s exercise done in good company--and Bean appreciates him a lot.

Overall, the two are very affectionate and casual in their relationship with one another.

Belphie:

Low energy pals.

Literally will lay in bed next to each other on their DDD’s, sharing memes, and talking about random shit.

Bean quickly becomes Belphie’s new favorite pillow once the whole stuck-in-the-attic chapter is done with, and their relationship improves.

She’s a little shy about it, but Belphie honestly loves her squish. Perfect for napping.

If Belphie finds Beel and Bean cuddling, or hugging, he will absolutely add himself into the equation with zero hesitation. 

Bean is someone that he can talk to without feeling judged, or like she’ll rat out his negative feelings to his brothers. 

He really appreciates her willingness to accept him despite how he’d manipulated her, and hurt her in the past. In turn, Bean hopes that she can continue to be a light in Belphie’s life, and that she can help him continue to grow and change (despite him being thousands of years older than her).

The two tend to hang out in the planetarium together frequently.

Also, Bean will wake up to random messages/memes from Belphie that he sent at an ungodly hour while the rest of them were busy sleeping (and she loves it).

If anyone has any questions about Bean, her relationships with the brothers, or other characters, how she would react in certain situations, etc -- please feel free to send me an ask about it!! 👉👈

SFW or NSFW topics are okay!

[astro-syd]

Taehyung & Jungkook - Composite Reading

*note that where I refer to them as a “couple,” I’m not necessarily referring to their relationship as romantic. It’s just the easiest way for me to discuss a composite chart relationship! How they define their relationship is their business, not ours.

The First House & Ascendant:

Taekook have their Ascendant in Scorpio, along with their Sun and Mercury. Like I mentioned before in their synastry reading, their relationship is VERY deep and intense. 

Scorpio is a sign that doesn’t appreciate superficiality or a keeping of secrets. It wants to know everything about you, the good, the bad, and everything in between. 

Having both their Sun and AC in this sign, they definitely project an aura of intensity and depth. You can really get the sense of how deep their connection is just by watching them interact.

Scorpio is a fixed water sign, meaning that emotions run DEEP here. Their relationship is the image of passion and feeling for each other.

There’s a potential for jealousy and possessiveness between them.

Mercury here only supports the idea that there’s nothing off-limits between them. They can talk to each other about anything, rely on each other for anything, and there’s no sense of judgement or shame between them. Communication flows easily, and it’s obvious that they simply understand each other in a way that others do not.

Their Sun in the 1st house shows off their confidence together. This placement is often recognized in powerful couples who are pioneers in their field, and Taekook definitely fit that bill. They’re true leaders, and their power is strongest when they’re together.

The Second House:

Taekook’s composite 2nd house falls in Sagittarius. The 2nd usually rules over your material world and possessions, and mutable Sag could indicate that their combined funds are often spent on trips and adventures for them to explore and make memories together.

They have Pluto here in the 2nd trine Saturn, which shows that they’d be very responsible about the way that they handle their finances and possessions. Pluto here can lead to some selfishness in terms of sharing wealth and possessions, but I imagine the whole band has figured out the best way to handle these things to best benefit everybody.

This placement can also indicate a deep sense of responsibility for each other. They both feel the need to make sure the other is provided for. Pluto and Saturn can both deal with fears, guilt and shame as well, and I think this aspect really shows how great they are at comforting each other and handling their emotions with care. Their affectionate attitude serves to soothe and stabilize each other, as well as to express their feelings.

They also have both Venus and Mars here in the 2nd. They’re a very sensory-based couple! They enjoy giving gifts to each other, which can be either material in nature or a sort of trip or opportunity for adventure, as I mentioned before. 

They might also spend a lot of money on art, either to decorate their home or on materials to create their own. This also goes for anything related to fashion and beauty. They both enjoy investing in art, beauty, and aesthetics.

They’re great at showing physical affection, which is genuinely comforting to both of them and is the easiest way for them to express their feelings for each other.

With both of these planets in Sag, adventures and keeping each other on their toes is key to having a good time. They’re very optimistic and always like to be exploring something new together. Given how open and accepting they are with each other, I’m sure they manage to find no shortage of topics to discuss and ideas to explore.

The Third House:

Taekook’s third house is in Capricorn. They find true stability in being around the rest of the band, and being a member of BTS gives them the confidence and ambition to pursue their goals. 

Their conversations are often very serious. Cap is a very no-nonsense, business-like sign. They’re very honest and straightforward with each other, and they don’t shy away from having the “essential” conversations when necessary. 

They strongly support each other’s ideas and beliefs. It’s a large component of why they can communicate with each other so well. 

Jupiter here also supports the idea that communication is important and easy for them, and that they strongly ground each other in their daily life.

Neptune in this house shows a strong respect for and openness about each other’s dreams! Dreams and inspirations are commonly shared between them. In fact, they likely come to each other with these ideas long before anyone else. 

The Fourth House:

Their fourth house falls in Aquarius. Uranus is also here, in its rulership. This strongly points to a unique and unconventional home life, which makes sense for the boys. Their “home” is with their band members, and their life and career circumstances would definitely be considered unique.

Uranus will create a sense of instability in their home life and relationship, which likely just stems from their career circumstances.

Regardless, their relationship with each other is built off of unique circumstances and therefore doesn’t function in the same way a “normal” friendship or relationship would. They don’t care to conform to society’s idea of how they should relate to each other and behave together, they simply care about doing what’s right for each other and what works best for them.

The Fifth House:

Taekook have no planets in their composite 5th, but the house falls in Pisces.

This sign really shows their love for sharing art and music with each other. It’s a very art-based, creative sign, and in their house of fun, games & recreation, you can see how much they genuinely enjoy being creative together. They probably spend a lot of time talking about, creating, and sharing arts, as well as visiting art museums whenever they get the chance.

This sign also tells us that they’re even more affectionate and cuddly when they’re alone and nobody is watching, how cute!!

Both are highly willing to make sacrifices for the other. This doesn’t really come as a surprise given how deep and caring their bond is, but it definitely solidifies the degree to which they’re willing to give to each other without question.

The Sixth House:

Their 6th house falls in Aries! This quick-moving fire sign really shows how much activity goes on in their day-to-day lives. They’re a busy bunch!

They work very well together as a team and are capable of completing tasks together very quickly. This definitely comes in handy during their busy schedules.

Their composite Saturn also resides in this house. This REALLY shows how seriously they take their job and work life. There’s no question in either of their minds how important their work is, and they’re both highly committed to getting their job done well and on time. They have the greatest sense of focus and discipline when they’re working together.

The Seventh House:

Taekook’s seventh house, the house of partnerships, falls in Taurus! This confirms my earlier statement about them being a very sensory-based couple.

There’s no planets in this house either, but we can still draw a few conclusions about their relationship.

Taurus is a fixed earth sign, so they’re very loyal and committed to each other. Nothing is going to break their bond.

They interact with others in a very calm and collected manner, so long as they’re together.

Since Taurus is ruled by Venus, they probably like to relax in a very orderly and beautiful environment. If they’re sharing a room or living space, agreeing upon the decorations and environment are important.

They’re likely to find stability and comfort in their partnership no matter where they’re at in the world or what’s going on. They act as each other’s rock, grounding and supporting the other simply through their presence.

The Eighth House:

Taekook have their Eighth house in Gemini, and their Moon also resides here. Wow, they have a lot of communication aspects!

The 8th is ruled by Scorpio, and once again, there’s no topic off-limits when talkative Gemini is brought into this house. They truly have a very open relationship with each other where no secrets are kept from the other.

The Moon here shows that even their deepest emotions, fears and sensitivities can be shared, heard and respected. Gemini moons make great listeners who love to support each other. 

In the intuitive 8th house, Taekook probably seem almost as if they’re telepathic. They tend to intuit each other’s emotions and thoughts without even having to speak a word. They’re just on the same wavelength, and they know each other well enough to pick up on and interpret subtle signals the other might be giving off.

The Ninth House:

Their ninth is in Cancer, and it’s another empty house.

This tells us that their love for travel, adventure and exploration together also brings them a sense of emotional security. They’re at their happiest and most comfortable when they get to explore new things together.

They also probably need a sense of freedom when they’re living together. As comfortable and affectionate as they are with each other, they also need their space to keep tensions from rising, which makes sense given how close all of the members must live together.

The Tenth House:

Their tenth house and Midheaven are in Leo. With Leo ruling over performance arts and the Midheaven ruling over public image, it makes sense that we’d see this placement in their chart!

This placement just shows us that they’re well known for their career as performers and that this reputation proceeds them. If their names are mentioned, the first thought that comes to mind is their career performing with BTS! 

Their relationship is strengthened through their bond both as friends and as performers. Their loyalty to their career also serves to strengthen their bond with each other.

The Eleventh House:

Taekook’s eleventh falls in Virgo. It’s also an empty house.

They have a very practical and reliable approach to working together as a group and interacting with friends. There isn’t a whole lot of flamboyance or tension in how they function with their friends or bandmates. They’re grounded, reliable, and good at completing necessary tasks.

Their outlook is focused towards the most efficient ways of getting things done, and they’re good at organizing the rest of the group to follow these plans as well. As I said, it’s a very practical approach to friendships and group activities, and their reliability is something that would bring comfort to the other members as well.

The Twelfth House:

Taekook have their twelfth in Libra. The sign of balance and harmony falls into their house of the unconscious and the unseen.

This makes me wonder if this is some of why the maknaes love to rely on Jimin for comfort- his Libra sun would fall in their composite 12th, illuminating these hidden realms… hmm, anyone have any comments on that?

ANYWAY, Taekook have their North Node here, which is interesting. Their relationship will feel the most fulfilling when they’re focused on transcendence of the self. Their South Node would fall back in the 6th in Aries, which shows that coming into this relationship, they’re very self-focused throughout their career/daily activities and may have initially struggled to figure out how the other fits into this scene. 

There’s big themes for them around where to be themselves and care about their own wishes, and where to be selfless and join their energy with the other to act as one. There’s big themes around self vs oneness for them. 

They’ll actually feel the most fulfilled through their connection when they’re acting selflessly for the other, and finding that balance between themselves and their own desires and the other’s. Anything they do to benefit the other will naturally also benefit themself.

Their Chiron also falls in this house, which shows huge opportunities for healing in their relationship. When they feel as if they can’t fit into the rest of the world or are haunted by traumatic memories of their pasts, they can find peace and solace within their connection.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 37: Martin Prime

It was weird hearing his fiancé arguing with someone who sounded like him but wasn’t, Martin mused idly. Like listening to a tape he didn’t remember recording.

It was also weird, and would probably always be weird, that he could tell the difference between Jon’s voice and Past Jon’s voice, at least when he was paying attention and not overly upset. Theoretically they were the same person. Practically, they were very different, just because of what they’d both been through. Jon’s voice had just the faintest rasp to it, the lightest bit of scarring on his vocal chords from both Daisy’s knife and Jane Prentiss’ worms, and Past Jon’s voice was a tad softer, less hardened by time and circumstance. The distinction in their voices was subtle, but it was enough.

“You knew about the bullet. You should have said something to her,” Jon said, for what was at least the fifteenth time in the last week. Martin could imagine him waving his arms as he did so. “If she gets shot because she didn’t know to avoid it—”

“It wasn’t like I had an opportunity in the conversation,” Past Martin protested. “I did tell her to be careful.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jon demanded.

From the stress on you, Martin guessed he’d turned the argument on someone else, and it was Past Jon who answered. “What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, don’t worry, you’ll come back alive but with a ghost’s bullet in your leg that’s going to make you irrationally angry’? I did the best I could. We were recording.”

“I’ve told you before, the recorders aren’t the Eye—”

“Uh, I need to take this back to the library before it closes for the weekend,” Tim said, but it didn’t seem to make an impression on the argument that Sasha was now chiming in to.

“He’s right, you should have told her. Should have warned her against joining the Institute, too.”

“I can do that when she gets back,” Past Martin pointed out.

“I told Basira what was going on,” Sasha said.

“But not in relation to herself,” Past Jon said. Martin could imagine that being accompanied by an accusing jab of the finger,  but he wasn’t going to make assumptions. “Besides, that’s different. Basira is the type to weigh all evidence and theories against her options when making a decision. Melanie’s more the type to give in to emotion, especially anger. It’s impossible to tell which way she’d go if you gave her that kind of information first. It’s very likely to make things worse.”

“Don’t you Know at me, Jonathan Sims.”

Tim made a noise imitative of a supermarket’s tannoy crackling to life. “Manager to Mr. Kettle, manager to Mr. Kettle, there’s a Ms. Pot for you on line two.”

“Would that be the pot calling the kettle back?” Martin asked. He was rewarded with a choked-off laugh from Tim’s direction, but he was pretty sure nobody else in the room heard either one of them. With a sigh, he heaved himself out of the armchair. “Want me to come with you to take that book back? This is going to take a while.”

“Sure. We’ll be back, guys.” Tim evidently directed this at the others, but again, no reaction from anyone. He sighed. “Here, give me your arm. Bringing your cane?”

“Better not, just in case we run into someone. Get me to the stairs and I should be okay.”

The sound of the argument faded into the background as they made it to the steps; Martin let go of Tim’s arm and gripped the railing instead. By leaning forward, he could anticipate when they hit a landing. “Thanks. What’s the book on, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s one of the circus books. I—I know I’m obsessing a little about it. I know the circus itself isn’t the important bit, but…I don’t know. Forewarned is forearmed, I guess.” Tim was silent for a moment. “Unless it is something about circuses that are important.”

“No, not really. Just…an excuse, I guess.” Martin tried to put into words what even Jon had never asked his opinion on; there hadn’t been much of a chance before the Unknowing, and after it there hadn’t been much of a point. “I’ve noticed that’s one of the places the Stranger is drawn to, is the entertainment industry. Not just the circus, but the theater. I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not the only one drawn to it. You know as well as I do the damn things overlap, like the bleed on the edge of colors.”

“Mm…hang on, I have a question, but we’re hitting the main floor. I’m gonna throw my arm around your shoulders like I’m telling you a bad joke, okay?”

“Thanks. And thanks for the warning.” Martin braced himself against the railing.

Tim’s arm came down heavily over Martin’s shoulders, and he turned his face towards him, hoping anyone passing them would assume he was engrossed in Tim’s extremely skewed sense of humor. True to his word, Tim picked up in the middle of a joke as they left the stairwell. “…the Brother Superior stands up as usual and sings, ‘Good morning, broooo-theeers.’ And all the brothers sing back, ‘Good moooor-niiiiiiing,’ except for the one little brother who’s rebelling. He sings out—”

“’Night, Martin,” a sweet, young-sounding voice called.

“Night,” Martin called back. It sounded like Manal, but he didn’t want to risk saying the wrong name and drawing attention to himself.

“Oh, hey, are you heading upstairs?” The voice got closer, and Martin and Tim drew to a halt. “This came in the mail drop for Mr. Bouchard. I meant to bring it up right away, but we got slammed with students and I forgot. Must be the first paper of the term coming up due. Can you give it to Rosie, please?”

“Sure, no problem.” Martin reached out uncertainly and—fortunately—touched a cardboard packet; he was able to grab it before it became obvious that was luck. He hoped. “Have a good night, Manal.”

“You too.”

Tim got them started walking again, continuing as he did, “Anyway, so the brother who’s rebelling sings, ‘Good eeeeeeve-niiiiiiing.’ A hush falls over the whole refectory. Brother Superior stands up, looks around the room, looks each brother in the eye, and then sings, ‘Someone chanted eveniiiiiiing…’”

Martin let out a long, protracted groan. “God, Tim, how long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Years,” Tim admitted sheepishly. “You’ve got to have the right audience for it, you know? Someone who both appreciate puns and knows enough about music to catch the reference.”

“If I could see you, I would hit you.”

“Must be my lucky day. Mind the steps.”

Martin switched the cardboard packet to his other hand in favor of the railing, and was surprised when someone tugged it away from his fingers. “Hey—”

“Sorry, should’ve warned you I was doing that,” Tim said. “I just figured it’d probably be better if I hand it off to Rosie, since…” He trailed off.

Since Martin couldn’t see her, wouldn’t know where to find her, and the last time he’d been in her office it had been…somewhat different. He tried to push the image of the top of the Panopticon out of his mind. “Yeah, probably for the best. If she’s still there.”

“She will be. Always one of the last ones out the door. Not sure how much of it is Elias keeping her to the last minute and how much of it is she doesn’t want to miss anything.” Tim paused. “Speaking of being unbearably nosy, wonder what Elias is getting from one of the Lukases that can’t be delivered in person?”

“They don’t like doing anything in person if they can help it, Tim. It’s kind of their whole…deal.” That close to Elias’ office, it didn’t feel safe to mention the Lonely out loud, or any of the fears, really. “I very much doubt we’ll find out, though.”

The railing didn’t level out—it just stopped, something Martin discovered when he almost pitched forward from abruptly not having something to lean on. He caught himself against the wall with a rather loud slap and thanked his lucky stars he’d always had a (mostly undeserved, to be honest) reputation as a klutz. Assuming anyone was still around, they’d probably just think oh, Martin tripped over his own two feet again, insofar as they thought about it at all. Rosie was probably watching, though.

That was confirmed—more or less—when Tim said in a bright, jovial voice, “Rosie! Good to see you. Can you give this to Elias? Manal asked us to bring it up.”

“Of course.” Rosie’s voice sounded just like Martin remembered it, and he curled one hand into a fist to stave off the memory of her staring up at them, face perfectly blank except for her eyes, somewhere between dazed and terrified, as she blandly asked if they had an appointment…

Not for the first time, Martin wished there had been any other way of protecting him from the Eye than by destroying his vision. Setting aside the usual, mundane difficulties that came with total blindness—difficulties any person faced with complete loss of sight would have to deal with—there was the simple fact that the last thing Martin had seen, live and in person, had been a post-apocalyptic hellscape. The last time he had seen the Institute, it had been a tower of black glass and twisted steel looming up into the stratosphere; the last time he had seen London, it had been swarming with very interested cameras and monitors and paintings of eyes; the last time he had seen the sky, it had seen him back. He could remember the way things had been before, but those last impressions were awfully powerful, and it hurt.

“Was there anything else, Tim?” Rosie asked. Martin frowned slightly. Under her voice was something eager, something…hungry. She wanted something, and he wondered what it was. He remembered Jon’s unwilling statement, where he’d talked about her constant desire for secrets—she could probably give Sasha a run for her money in terms of snooping, and no wonder Gertrude had always talked to her as if she was in the know. Was that all it was? Was she prying for secrets? Or—Martin bit his lip—was it possible she’d been taken over by the Not-Them, that she was drawn to Tim because of his Stranger mark? She sounded like he remembered, but if she were replaced in this past, would it replace his memories of the future, too?

He bit back a groan. Douglas Adams was wrong about the biggest problem to time-travel being grammatical tenses; clearly, the biggest problem was making sense out of the recursive nature of body-stealing, memory-altering creatures.

“Nope, that ought to do it. Gotta get to the library before they lock it up for the night. Have a good weekend, Rosie.” Tim knocked twice on something wooden, probably her desk, then came over and touched Martin’s arm. “Let’s go, Freckles.”

“Night, Rosie,” Martin called, because he would have before and Past Martin would too and there was no sense in making Rosie—or Elias, if he was still there—suspicious. He could imagine the false, charming smile she flashed in his direction, but there was no audible response and he didn’t expect one. Instead, he simply linked arms with Tim, let him lead him down the corridor, and prayed nobody had left a door open for him to run into.

The sensation of stepping into the library was instantly a familiar one to Martin—the feeling of stepping into a soaring, open space, but an oddly safe one—odd because of the sheer number of truly dangerous and terrifying works contained there. Any book with Jurgen Leitner’s bookplate on it was destroyed long before it got this far, of course, but even before he’d gone to the Archives, Martin had wondered if someone would be able to tell one of Leitner’s books if the bookplate was papered over or removed. Once he’d learned the truth, that Leitner had been a collector rather than the author or even the commissioner, he’d wondered how many books of power were actually in the Institute’s library. On the one hand, it didn’t seem likely that Jonah Magnus would allow any genuinely powerful books to get this far; on the other hand, it would certainly explain the library’s asinine and borderline ludicrous lending procedures.

Martin hung back by the door, sliding his hands into his pockets and hoping he was sufficiently out of the way of everyone bustling to get their assigned tasks completed so they could be out the door on time. Idly, he wondered who was on the desk. He’d usually ended up working it on Friday afternoons; everybody else hated it because, as Rebecca had once complained, there was always one person who came back with an enormous stack to return with ten minutes to go before they were supposed to clock out. Every book had to be checked against three different lists, certain inspections had to be made, and the identity of the person returning the book had to be checked twice. And it all had to be done by hand; every attempt to automate and bring in a computer had been met with catastrophic failure. Martin had actually kind of enjoyed it, especially since it usually meant he was left alone at the end of the week and could take his time, lingering over shelves and experimenting with the acoustics. If he thought he could get away with it, he might creep up here some evening after the Institute was closed and throw a few more songs into the darkness. It was different in the Archives.

“Well, hello there, Martin!”

Martin almost leapt out of his skin and whirled around, his heart pounding. “Jesus!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” The voice was coming from roughly Martin’s height, but that was about all he could tell, that and that it was female. It had no distinctive characteristics, nothing to trigger a name in his mind. And yet, whoever owned it knew his name, which meant it was someone he should know. He’d have to bluff. “Haven’t seen you up here in a while.”

“Yeah, just—been busy,” Martin said lamely. He waved in the direction of the desk. “Kind of figured you’d be glad to see the back of me, to be honest.”

“Oh, now, why would you think that?” The woman, or at least Martin presumed it was the woman, patted him on the cheek with a soft, fleshy hand; he tried not to flinch at the unexpected touch, or the unpleasantly dry feel of her palm. “You’re such a hard worker, and always so cheerful. You’ve been missed, but I’m sure Jon appreciates having you in the Archives.”

If this was a joke, Martin didn’t think it was very funny, but he managed a smile anyway. “Well, we all had a settling-in period, but that’s in the past now. I do miss it up here sometimes, but I like being down there, too.”

“And we’re very glad to have him,” Tim said, suddenly right next to Martin. “C’mon, buddy, we’ve got a weekend to catch before it slips away…have a good one.”

“You, too, Tim. And you, Martin. Don’t be such a stranger—come back and visit us more often. We’d love to see you again.”

“Sure,” Martin said softly. “’Night.”

Tim didn’t say anything the rest of the way back down to the Archives, which Martin appreciated. Going down stairs was a hell of a lot more complicated than going up; he couldn’t lean as safely, and the kick-and-drag method was a bit less effective. It took concentration to keep from pitching forward and tumbling down the entire flight, and if he tried to spare any braincells for conversation, Martin was pretty sure he’d end up missing his footing. Tim’s hand at his elbow helped, especially since the main floor was crowded with people leaving for the day. A few called greetings to Tim, but they all ignored Martin, which was fine by him.

There was a sense, when they re-entered the Archives, of an argument put on hold, something that was confirmed when the first thing Martin heard anyone say was Jon’s voice. “What do you think, Martin?”

“Gender is a social construct, Shakespeare is overrated, and paisley is horrendously tacky no matter what color it is,” Martin replied promptly. Someone hastily turned a snigger into a cough.

“I mean, about whether or not you would have told Melanie more about what to expect in India.”

Martin felt around until he located a chair. “I think my opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Past Jon protested.

“Not in this.” Martin met Jon’s hand coming towards him and squeezed it gently. “What I would have done doesn’t have a lot of relevance here. It’s not our story anymore.”

“What?” Past Martin sounded genuinely confused. “Of course it’s—”

“I mean,” Martin said quickly, “that you’re not us and we’re not you. What I was like at this point in things isn’t anywhere near where you are, and vice versa. Same with Jon and your Jon. To be honest, I don’t even know if I would have made the effort to be friends. But at this point, things are different enough that telling you how we would do it isn’t very…efficient, I guess? It’s your story, your lives. You’re the ones shaping it. Trying to do things the way we wish we’d done it…well, if the circumstances aren’t the same, it won’t have the same outcome necessarily. You’ve got to do what you think is best.”

“That’s…a good point, actually,” Jon admitted. He sighed. “I apologize for lecturing.”

“’S all right,” Past Martin said. “Gave me a chance to stand my ground and all.”

“Which you need to do more often,” Tim said cheerfully. “Anything to boost your self-esteem.”

“Ouch, Tim, really?” The effectiveness of Sasha’s reproof was lessened by the obvious smirk in her voice.

“Yeah, okay, I probably shouldn’t have said it like that, but it’s true. I’m not completely oblivious, you know. I can put the pieces together, and from the little you’ve said about working in the library, I got the impression you thought they hated you up there. Especially Diana.”

“They did,” Past Martin protested. “The only one who ever even spoke to me directly was Diana, and even that was just to give me orders. It’s hard not to know someone hates you when their method of asking you for help is to wait until you’re in earshot and then tell someone else to ‘just leave that for Martin, he’ll fumble his way through it eventually’.”

“Did they really do that?” Jon asked quietly.

“Constantly,” Martin affirmed. “Speaking of, Tim, who the hell was that who was talking to me while you were checking that book back in? I didn’t recognize the voice.”

“Wait, seriously?” Tim said with an audible frown.

Martin sighed. “Look. Down here it’s pretty easy to tell who’s talking. You’ve all got pretty distinct voices from one another. It’s hard to tell my Jon and your Jon apart if I’m not concentrating, but there’s enough of a difference and I know you well enough to be able to figure it out, usually. But out there? If it’s not someone with a distinctive pitch or accent or speech pattern or whatever, it’s hard to tell. And something like ninety percent of the people who work here speak with the exact same voice. About all I could tell was that I was talking to a woman.”

“I guess that makes sense. Just figured you’d recognize Diana’s voice when you heard it.”

“Pretty sure I would. So who was that?”

There was a half-second’s pause before Tim said, “Diana.”

“Diana?” Martin repeated incredulously.

“You’re sure you didn’t recognize her?”

“No, and it’s not just the accent. I didn’t think the ladders got that close to where I was standing.” Martin rubbed his forehead. “God, my mental map of the library is all off now.”

Jon wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. Tim sounded bewildered. “What do ladders have to do with anything?”

“It sounded like whoever was talking to me was around my height. I mean, that could’ve been the way sound bounces in the library, but—”

“No, that’s—she is around your height. She always intimidated the hell out of me.”

Martin sighed. “Okay, I think we’re talking about two different Dianas here. Which Diana was this I was talking to?”

“Diana—what the hell is her last name? The head librarian?”

“Caxton,” Past Jon supplied.

Something cold trickled down Martin’s spine. “Describe her.”

“Uh—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair that she usually wears piled up on top of her head, looks like a Quentin Blake illustration come to life—?”

“That’s who the artist is! I can never remember his name,” Sasha said, punctuating the remark by—from the sound of it—slamming her open hand against the desk.

“That’s not Diana Caxton,” Past Martin said decidedly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, or why she would have told you she was, but—”

“It’s the Diana Caxton I know,” Past Jon said. “And you should, too. She was there when I took Melanie up the first time, said they missed seeing your smiling face up there.”

“Look, that’s not Diana,” Past Martin insisted. “I should know. I worked there for ten years, Jon. She’s shorter than five feet tall, her hair’s been completely silver for a while now, and she has a Korean accent. I don’t know who this woman is you’re describing, but it’s not Diana Caxton.”

Jon tensed, his arm tightening around Martin’s shoulders. Softly, he said, “I think it is now.”

There was a moment of horrible silence as that sank in. Martin had to admit that the idea of the Not-Them taking over Diana hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d just…assumed that if it was anyone, either it would be someone in Artifact Storage foolish enough to disregard the warnings or it would be Rosie. And, okay, maybe there’d been a foolish little part of him that had hoped it wouldn’t take over anyone. But somehow, the idea of it being Diana Caxton just felt wrong. It was true that she hadn’t liked him all that much when he’d worked for her, but then, he’d been unqualified and incompetent, bluffing his way along, and she’d likely had to pick up a lot of his messes. And he knew for a fact that the twice-widowed bookworm had a flock of grandchildren who adored her—he still remembered the day her youngest had come to visit, just before he’d been transferred to the Archives, and attached herself to Martin with a thousand innocent questions and bragging stories about “my Nana”. It wasn’t fair for anyone to be taken by that thing, but especially not someone like Diana.

There was a banging noise, like the Archives doors had just blown open, and Martin jumped, clutching at Jon’s arm. His first thought was that it was the Not-Diana, having realized they knew, coming to take them out. His second was that it was Elias, the jig would be up, and they would have to try and implement their plan now, and what if Jon wasn’t strong enough to do what had to be done and—

“Basira?” Sasha said, sounding somewhere between shocked and relieved. “What are you doing here?”

Oh. Martin relaxed, but not much. There was absolutely no hiding his or Jon’s presence. Past Jon sounded nervous as he said, “I can explain about—”

“Save it. I don’t care.” There was a thump and a rattle as Basira—her voice was unmistakable, too—dropped something on the desk in front of them. “Here.”

“Are those the tapes?” Past Jon asked.

“As many of them as I could get,” Basira replied.

“What happened, Basira?” Sasha’s voice was gentle, but—surprisingly—there was no static in it, even though Martin could almost feel it building in the room. It hit him, suddenly, that Sasha’s ability from the Eye didn’t enable her to ask for secrets. Only to take them. He decided to keep that particular unpleasant realization to himself for the moment. “I thought you said you were done with the Institute.”

Basira let out one of those frustrated noises Martin, unfortunately, knew all too well. “They’re covering it up. Altman’s death. Saying he was dirty. That he got stabbed in a drug deal gone wrong.”

“Wait, so the operation you went on—” Past Jon began.

“Doesn’t exist. I mean, I didn’t know Leo well, but…it’s not right. And they seemed happy enough to get me out the door.”

Someone poked at the box, if the rattle was any indication; Martin guessed it was Sasha, since she spoke again. “So why bring us the tapes?”

“Well, they’re sure as hell not going to solve Gertrude’s murder,” Basira said. “And from what you said the last time I was here, they’re probably of more use to you anyway, even if her death’s not in here. Before, I guess I had enough police in me not to steal evidence, but…”

“They’ve rather lost your loyalty,” Jon supplied softly. Martin slipped his arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“You won’t get in trouble for this, will you?” Tim asked, actually sounding concerned.

“Don’t think so. Daisy knows I’m bringing them to you. They won’t know they’re missing until they do inventory, and then only if they check the sectioned stuff.”

“Thanks, Basira,” Sasha said. “I owe you a drink or two. Just say the word.”

“Long as you promise not to talk shop,” Basira replied. “If I never hear another thing about this place…that’ll be enough for me.”

Martin heard footsteps starting to retreat across the Archives floor. Impulsively, he called out, “Basira.”

The footsteps stopped. “What?”

Martin looked in what he hoped was the right direction to look her in the eyes. “Keep her close. You’re her tether, and excuses only carry you so far.”

It was the same thing he’d said to her, once upon a time and simultaneously in a nonexistent future, loitering in the hallway of an abattoir outside an instrument room. She hadn’t wanted to listen then, and if he was honest, he hadn’t really taken his own advice all that well. He could only pray she would listen now, and that she would understand what he was talking about—and what he wasn’t saying. Don’t let your partner turn into a monster because it’s easier than saying stop.

After a moment, Basira said, her voice so soft it almost wasn’t audible, “Right.” With that, evidently, she left the Archives.

Jon pulled Martin around and wrapped him in a tight hug; Martin could feel his face pressing into his shoulder as he hugged him back. He, at least, had understood. They held each other for a moment, both hoping—despite what she’d done to them months ago—that Daisy could still be saved.

There was another rattle as someone poked at the tapes. “Where do we start?” Sasha asked.

“We go home,” Tim said firmly. “It’s Friday, and it’s past quitting time. Let’s just—let’s just go home, take the weekend to regroup, and we can come back and look through these on Monday. Maybe, um, maybe you two can go through and pick a few you think we ought to listen to.”

“Or,” Jon suggested, “we can sort them out. Gertrude labeled some but not others. If I set the blank ones aside, that might be good practice for you to sort out the color muddle. If that’s all right.”

“Either way, Tim’s right,” Past Jon said softly. “It’s late and we’re all tired. Especially…now. Let’s just go home. We’ll see you on Monday.”

Everyone wished one another goodnight, and the team departed, leaving Jon and Martin alone in the Archives. Martin waited a moment, then asked, “Do you want to start looking through them now?”

To Martin’s surprise, Jon hesitated for a minute, then said, “No. I think I want to put these in the Archivist’s office, and then I want to take a walk with my fiancé and maybe go out to dinner. What do you think of that?”

Martin smiled. He could feel himself blushing a little, but he didn’t care. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

[panharmonium]

(1/3) Heya! A while back you were discussing Morgana's character and Merlin's relationship with her WRT magic and mentioned "gaslighting." I know for myself when I refer to Merlin gaslighting her it's not in regards to him not outing himself, but that 1) Pre 2X03 he goes along with Gaius in pretending to not believe that her visions are true and giving her the sleeping draughts. And Post 2X03, after reassuring her that they're still friends, he just doesn't really talk to her again until 2X12.

Hi!  So, I will preface this by saying that I normally don't have a chance to respond to asks in this much depth, but luckily I had some free time over the past couple of days, and there's nothing I like better than writing incessantly about Merlin, so I took the liberty of doing a deep dive. :)

My impression (because these asks don't actually include a particular question for me to answer) is that I'm being asked to expand/defend my own analysis from my original post with regard to the above points.  And I'll be honest and say that I won't always do that for folks on demand, because I really am of the school of thought that I don't write meta to convince anybody of something or "prove" a point - I really am just talking to myself in my own room for fun, and it isn't important to me to make a case to anybody who would rather approach from a different angle.  Like - if we’re on different pages, it’s chill; I don’t feel a need to discuss it or like...change someone’s mind.  (In all seriousness, I really have just been writing these things for myself and a couple of friends.  Prior to three days ago, when some kind of a bizarre surge happened, I had no followers who were here specifically for Merlin.)

But there are definitely some things referenced in these messages that I do have strong opinions about (though as I always say, that doesn't mean anyone is obligated to agree with me!)  And since I have the free time and am actually interested in this topic, I figured I'd try to address these things one by one (though I can't promise to do so in order.)  

I'll put everything under a cut, because this did get quite long.

disclaimer: as always, whenever I write meta: these are just my own thoughts, and I don’t expect anyone to share them.  If we are on different pages, feel free to scroll past and keep having fun in whatever way is most enjoyable to you!

1) “after reassuring her that they're still friends, he just doesn't really talk to her again until 2X12″

So first, I have to pose a question.

Why does this say "[Merlin] just doesn't really talk to her again" after 2.03?

Specifically, that framing.  

Merlin doesn't talk to her again.  

Because what actually happens, from 2.03-2.10, in an objective, this-is-what-we-see-onscreen way, is this: Merlin defies Gaius and tells Morgana that he believes she has magic.  He sends her to the Druids so they can help her, tries to distract the attacking knights so she can escape from Camelot with the Druids permanently, and, when that fails, he makes sure to come to Morgana's room and tell her that he supports her and her secret is safe with him.  

Then, from 2.04 through 2.10, they don't have screen time together.

Not "Merlin just doesn't talk to her."  

They don't have screen time together.  You could say "Morgana just doesn't talk to him" and it would be just as true.

But somehow we immediately frame our discussion of this as Merlin not doing something.  And that is what I am pushing back against.  

Merlin takes massive risks to help Morgana in 2.03.  He makes it very clear that he is there for her and he will never tell her secret, and Morgana, for her part, is shown to be very appreciative of that.  It's clear that she trusts him and believes him.  They part on a very positive note, at the end of 2.03.

Why, then, do we automatically frame the objective, unattributable-to-any-one-character fact that they don't interact onscreen after that as being somehow a failing on Merlin's part?   Why do we frame the simple fact that "they have no scenes together" as something for which we can lay blame?  (On Merlin, of course.  Never on Morgana.)

It's not as if we see Morgana reaching out and failing to get a response.  From 2.04-2.10, there are zero scenes of Morgana trying to approach Merlin and being rebuffed.  There are no scenes of Morgana wishing for guidance and being turned away.  And, with the exception of the Witchfinder episode (where Merlin already does literally everything in his power to expose this dangerous man and protect Morgana from his machinations) Morgana is not, in fact, shown to be getting "more and more freaked out and isolated."  

I want to pause and address that, because I know we've all sort of...collectively decided to imagine that this is what happened (because as a fandom we've tried to just fill in with fanon what feels like a blank left by the writers), but onscreen, in terms of the source material: it is false to say that “in the background you kind of see Morgana get more and more freaked out and isolated as the season progresses.”  It just doesn’t happen.

With the exception of "The Witchfinder," Morgana is never shown to be having any inner conflicts about her magic, not until 2.11.  Episodes 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 - absolutely nothing.  There is one scene in 2.08 where she mentions having trouble sleeping, but then that issue is immediately resolved for her when Morgause gives her the healing bracelet and cures her nightmares.  There are no scenes of Morgana worrying about her magic.  No scenes of her needing help.  No scenes referencing her position as a person who is struggling with being a secret magic-user.  No scenes referencing her magic at all, in fact.  She is not shown to be getting more and more freaked out and isolated; rather she appears to have integrated back into her old life, comfortable now in the knowledge of who and what she is.  It’s like what she told Merlin at the end of 2.03: "I know now who I really am.  And it isn't something to be scared of.  Maybe one day people will come to see magic as a force for good."

And we can of course debate whether that was really an appropriate writing decision, to have Morgana be fine, fine, fine, until suddenly we hit 2.11 and it's like, 'oh, suddenly not fine,' but we also can't evaluate or judge Merlin based on a fanon image of what we imagine was happening in Season 2.  We can only evaluate him based on what actually happens onscreen (whether we feel like it was well-written or not), and what actually happens onscreen is that minus her fear in The Witchfinder, which Merlin already takes decisive actions to address, Morgana is not shown to be distressed or isolated or conflicted until we hit 2.11.  

She appears, as far as Merlin and the audience can see, to be doing just fine.

I’ve got to be clear on this: "Merlin just doesn't really talk to her again" is a loaded sentence, when the phenomenon we're really trying to describe is  "Merlin and Morgana have no scenes together."  It inherently assigns responsibility, agency, and blame for any non-interaction to Merlin, when there is nothing in canon to support that framing.

If Morgana wants to talk to Merlin, she can come talk to him.  She knows Merlin is on her side.  She is shown to trust and appreciate Merlin without reservation at the end of 2.03.  And even if she had been shown to be spiraling into a bad place in 2.04-2.10 (which, as discussed above, is not the case) she could have come to Merlin at any time.  It is literally not Merlin's responsibility to pursue Morgana and press her to talk to him.  He has done his due diligence.  He makes sure she knows he is on her side, that he supports her, that he believes her, that he will never reveal her secret.  And she is shown to believe him when he says that.  If she needs him, she knows she can approach him.  And if she chooses not to do that - then that is on her.

This is a tough pill for even the in-universe characters to swallow, but Merlin is not responsible for the well-being of every single person in Camelot.  It is not his job to make sure that every single person in his orbit is 100% okay at all times.  It is not his job to read his friends' minds, or anticipate every single one of their needs, or to offer himself to them constantly, repeatedly, every time he has a spare moment, especially when they seem (like Morgana from 2.04 to 2.10) to be doing well.  Merlin has already been placed in a position where he is expected to devote almost all of his energy to serving someone else's interests.  When we expect him to also worry about and monitor and manage the health and happiness of all the other people around him, we are perpetuating the same damaging narrative for which we criticize characters like Kilgharrah, Gaius, etc - that everything is on Merlin, and if he can’t manage to juggle it all, then the negative consequences that ensue are his fault. 

A personal illustration of how this would play out in real life:

I live with my sister.  I am a pretty stoic person.  And when something is the matter, I sometimes don't tell her about it.  I just pretend like everything is fine.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would listen to me and support me if I ever came to her with a problem, but sometimes I don't do that.  And if that’s the choice I make, then that’s fine, but I have to take responsibility for it.  It's not okay for me to get angry and BLAME her for not helping me, when I never gave her any indication that I needed help in the first place.

So - flipping the narrative, what if we reframed the original statement to an equally loaded but equally accurate “post 2.03, Morgana just doesn't talk to Merlin.”  The two of them go through a harrowing experience together, where Merlin takes deadly risks to try to help Morgana escape Camelot and find her true self, where he offers his continuing support to her after it's over, and then she just never takes him up on that offer.  She retreats back into her comfortable position as Uther's noble ward, and stops associating with Arthur's lowly servant.  When Merlin helps save Gwen from the bandits in 2.04, Morgana never thanks him.  When Merlin is framed for theft by Catrina and hunted down, she doesn't stand up for him or try to help him.  When Gaius is arrested and tortured by the Witchfinder, she never stops by to see how Merlin is doing and check if he's okay.  When she's approached by a total stranger who wants her to steal a "weapon" for him, she doesn’t talk to Merlin at all, but rather agrees to steals the Crystal of Neahtid without ANY understanding of what it actually does or what Alvarr's plans are for it, leaving Merlin completely in the dark about why she's suddenly sneaking around acting so strange and suspicious.

Think back to Season One.  When Gwen is accused of sorcery and sentenced to death, Merlin confesses himself in order to save her.  Despite enjoying none of the protections Morgana has as Uther’s ward, Merlin still confesses himself in order to protect a friend.  But when Merlin is accused of sorcery in 2.07 (and when Gaius is then sentenced to be executed), Morgana does nothing comparable.  She just lets them take the fall.  Merlin allows himself (and Gaius) to be accused, even though he could easily have ratted Morgana out instead, and Morgana, despite knowing that Merlin is keeping silent to protect her at his own expense, never says a word to defend him, or approaches Merlin about it afterwards.  She sees Merlin dragged out of the Council Chambers screaming after Gaius is sentenced to death, but she says nothing.  She knows Gaius is going to be burnt at the stake, but she does nothing, not even making her usual appeal to Arthur.  

Does that mean we should assume that she was being negligent?  That she was abandoning Merlin when he needed her most?

For clarity - I'm not saying that the answer to that question is yes.  I’m saying that I’ve never seen anybody assign intention/bad faith to Morgana when it comes to her non-interaction with Merlin from 2.04 to 2.10 (even though that particular read is actually far more justified by the text).  There is no reason to assign intention to Merlin, either.

Ultimately, I just want us to be aware that saying “Merlin just doesn’t really talk to her again” inherently assigns agency and blame to an agentless fact.  Morgana and Merlin not being on screen together from 2.04 to 2.10 =/= "Merlin just doesn't really talk to her."  The phrase "Morgana just doesn't really talk to him" is an equally true statement, but one we don't hear nearly as often, because in the Merlin-verse, everything is Merlin's responsibility.  And therefore, when there’s a problem, everything is Merlin's fault.

2) “pre 2X03 he goes along with Gaius in pretending to not believe that her visions are true giving her the sleeping draughts”

Okay, this is just my own opinion, but - I personally think it is unreasonable for us to expect Merlin to correct every single bad choice that the people around him make, and it's unfair to transfer the blame for other people's choices onto his shoulders.

If Gaius is making bad choices prior to 2.03, then they are Gaius's bad choices.  Merlin, in 1.07, has just arrived in Camelot within the last couple of months.  Gaius has lived in Camelot all his life, and has been dealing with Morgana for two decades and Uther for longer than that.  Gaius is a trained physician.  He is in a position of authority over Merlin, and he has far more experience with the royal family than Merlin does, and when he tells Merlin that the safest thing for Morgana right now is to help her sleep through the night without having potentially-prophetic nightmares, of course Merlin listens to him. 

But five minutes into 2.03, immediately after Merlin learns that Morgana actually has magic (not just dream-visions, which this show states to be a separate gift) he is arguing with Gaius, saying that "you need to be honest with her."  At the fifteen minute mark, he is in Morgana's chambers telling her how to find the Druids.  

I cannot get on board with transferring blame that belongs to other people and dumping it all on Merlin's overburdened shoulders.  He directly defies Gaius's orders so that he can help Morgana, as soon as it becomes apparent how serious her situation is.  He leads Camelot's army on a chase through the woods in an attempt to help her run away, putting himself at extreme personal risk to do so.  How would he explain that, if he were caught?  If he were seen?

He does more to help her with her gift than anyone, and he puts himself at risk of discovery and execution to do it.  The standards to which we hold him, and the number of responsibilities we expect him to assume, and the ways we hold him accountable for choices that other people in positions of power have made, even when he ultimately corrects their mistakes - are impossibly unreasonable, and they certainly aren't the same standards we use to evaluate Morgana’s actions.

3) “while I don't think Merlin owed outing himself to anyone IMO was a really nasty undercurrent in the writing of ‘crazy/hysterical woman with her volatile lady feelings can't be trusted’ even after he's known her for like a year compared to Lancelot, Gilli, Daegel etc. being a-okay.”

Comparing Morgana to Lancelot, Gilli, and Daegal as a way of saying that Merlin underrates Morgana's trustworthiness in favor of theirs doesn't make sense.

Merlin doesn't choose to out himself to Lancelot at all.  It's an accident.  

Merlin doesn't choose to out himself to Daegal, either.  He's put in a situation where it's either "use magic" or "we both die."

Gilli has a little more wiggle room in terms of "was this an active decision on Merlin's part," but it's also not accurate to interpret this situation as arising out of Merlin's personal desires/level of trust in Gilli as a person.   Merlin reveals himself because he feels like it is the only way to get through to someone who is going to get themselves killed looking for revenge.  (And I've written previously about how I think Merlin's choices in this situation are in fact directly influenced by the decisions he didn't make with Morgana, and how making the opposite choice here in an attempt to "do the ‘right’ thing this time" doesn't actually change the ultimate outcome, but that's neither here nor there.)

None of these three instances are moments where Merlin looks at these characters and goes, “these people seem way more trustworthy than that crazy, volatile lady i know; i’m gonna reveal myself to them!"  He is forced into all of these situations, against his will, and is outed either by accident or necessity.

Additionally - the above is really the more important counterpoint, but I do think it's worth mentioning that Morgana, as far as the closeness of her relationship with Merlin goes, also can't be meaningfully compared with the other three characters on this list because her position as a noble places her in a totally different category altogether.

Merlin legitimately likes Morgana in the early seasons, and he's thrilled to be her friend.  But Merlin is also class-conscious - he has to be, given his position in society; and moreover he's spent the first twenty years of his life being best friends with a dude who is both hyperaware of and hypervocal about the inequalities of the current social system.  Merlin is ALWAYS aware that Morgana is on a different level than he is, and he is perfectly justified in being slightly more reticent around people who aren't cut from his own cloth, in the same way he is justified in being slightly more careful around Arthur, who also leverages his power and privilege whenever "equality" becomes inconvenient for him.

Take the comparison between Lancelot and Morgana, for example.  Merlin has known Lancelot for slightly less time than Morgana (Merlin meets Lancelot in 1.05), but he cleaves to Lancelot more quickly, and it is only natural that Merlin would do so.  Merlin is a peasant farmer.  He is literally as low on the social ladder as you can get without being one of the itinerant poor.  Morgana is, in essence, a princess, and Merlin isn't wrong for feeling more comfortable around Lancelot than he is around her, because Morgana, for all that she is generous-minded with the servants, is SO far above the level of people Merlin is used to associating with, and she has SO much more influence than he does - it's a power differential that can't be erased, no matter how friendly Morgana is with him.  And it’s a dynamic that isn't limited to Morgana, either - it exists between Merlin and Arthur, too.  

This is an element of the show that I don't necessarily see discussed often when it comes to Morgana and Merlin (and Gwen, for that matter), and most of the time it seems to be ignored in favor of like...“Morgana doesn't see class!  She's friends with Gwen and she's friends with Merlin!"  And I'm not disputing that she considers herself to be friends with them at first, but I also am not going to pretend that she doesn't then weaponize her class against them as soon as the situation changes.

In S3, she leverages her privileged position to threaten Merlin with execution if he tries to reveal her misdeeds, because she knows that no one will believe a servant even if he tells the truth ("Just think how Uther would react if he learnt that a serving boy had tried to poison his beloved ward").  She is horrified at her vision of Gwen taking the throne in 3.10, saying "How can that be?  She's a servant."  She mockingly calls Gwen "My lady" when capturing her in 5.06, and, when offering Gwen a drink of water, says, "Is it too good for you now that you're queen?"  She scathingly criticizes Helios’s capture of Merlin in 4.06, saying, "And you bring me how many men?  Or should I say how many servants?"  She tells Merlin, "You are Arthur's servant, nothing more" later in that same episode.  She dispenses with all semblances of equality with Gwen in late Season 2 whenever Gwen's in the way, instead snapping at her, ordering her around, and booting her out of the room.  And in "The Dark Tower," she drags Gwen behind her on a rope.

Morgana in the early seasons is committed to an "I'm not going to lord my social status over my lower-class friends!" attitude.  But that doesn't mean her social status doesn’t exist, or that the power differential has vanished.  And when the chips are down - when Morgana feels like she's getting less than she "deserves" but her former servants are getting more than they themselves do - she falls back on the power she has as a noble.  The ways in which Morgana interacts with Merlin and Gwen, after Morgana's falling out with Camelot, don't manifest as just "you betrayed me and we're not friends anymore," they express themselves in ways that specifically target Merlin and Gwen's "lowly" status, in comparison to Morgana's lofty one.

4) “I also hate the Merlin and Gaius talk in 2X12 where they more or less write her off as using her powers for eviiiiil when she hadn't consciously used her powers for ANYTHING yet.”

I suppose this could be subject to personal interpretation, but I’m pretty sure Gaius and Merlin think Morgana was consciously aware that she was the source of the magic.

They don't know that she wasn't consciously involved.  The audience doesn't even know that, frankly.  What Morgana is actually aware of is left undefined by the show.  (I personally always got the vibe that Morgana obviously knows it has something to do with the agreement she and Morgause made, but that she doesn't exactly understand the details of how it's working.)  But that's still never actually stated.

Merlin, (after Kilgharrah tells him the magic is coming from Morgana), assumes she is aware of what's happening.  And I personally think it’s impressive that even given this, he covers for her the entire episode.  At first he doesn't even suspect she has anything to do with it at all, not even after what she did in the previous ep - he makes up that story about Gaius having given her a potion to cover for her, assuming her magic is what's keeping her awake.  It's not until Kilgharrah tells him what's going on that he realizes the truth, and EVEN THEN, he continues to lie for her.  

If she was afraid - if she was in over her head - if she regretted her actions and wanted to change her mind - she could have confessed to Merlin and asked him for help.  Literally everyone in Camelot was incapacitated, and as far as Merlin knew, Morgana’s plan was to let them all die.  It's not that I'm happy about Merlin's choice to poison her, and neither is Merlin - but I'm also not comfortable blaming him to the exclusion of Morgana or critiquing him for feeling like Morgana did something bad.  She did do something bad!  She made her own choices.  Merlin didn't make them for her.  

Erasing Morgana’s responsibility erases her agency.  She makes decisions to get where she is in 2.12.  She makes an agreement to help Morgause without doing her research and without getting the details about what would actually happen to the people around her, just like she made an agreement to help Alvarr retrieve the Crystal of Neahtid without finding out what it actually was or how Alvarr planned to use it.  Merlin didn't make Morgana do any of those things.  

Re: the Merlin+Gaius talk in 2.12 - I personally don't read that conversation with Gaius as Merlin "writing [Morgana] off."  

Merlin doesn't think Morgana is irredeemably evil.  He apologizes to Morgana when she returns in 3.01.  Even when she displays shame and self-recrimination about her own actions, he doesn't say one word condemning her for anything she did in the last season.  All he feels is sympathy for her suffering.  He tells her, sincerely, "I am so sorry for everything you've been through."  He holds absolutely no grudge for what she did in 2.12.  None.  

And even when he finds out she's betraying them again - he first approaches her as a friend.  He begs her to stop.  He tells her, "It doesn't have to be like this.  We can find another way."  He answers "no" when she asks him if he believes she deserves to be executed for who she is.  Even as she's trying to kill them all.

And when she snaps, "Good!" in response to his statement that women and children are dying and the city will fall, he responds, "You don't mean that."  That is not the response of someone who's already written her off as evil.  He doesn't believe she wants all this violence.  He is trying to reach her.

She doesn't ever reach back.  And that is not Merlin's fault.

5) kilgharrah indiscriminately kills people

I don't think I can really address Kilgharrah in any meaningful way, because personally I don’t feel like dragons operate on or can be evaluated by human moral standards.  Other folks can take a different tack with this, obviously; there's no canon information one way or another.  That's just my own personal approach.

6) “[Kilgharrah] and Merlin are bros again by 3X02 but Morgause and Morgana and Kara killing knights and guards (who work for Uther/Arthur) are OMG murderers, have crossed a line, etc.”

Okay, look, let’s be honest here - this issue is a real philosophical question raised by the show, but Morgause and Morgana are not just killing knights and guards.  Morgana, with Morgause at her right hand, literally orders her crossbowmen to murder a bunch of civilians in the street, as if shooting fish in a barrel.  She tells her forces to “burn [the people’s] crops.”  She raids Ealdor, a poor peasant village that isn’t even within Camelot’s borders, at the end of Season 4, and at the beginning of Season 5, Morgana’s Saxon army is attacking innocent peasant villages in Annis’s kingdom and capturing the villagers to be taken as slave labor to Ismere.  Later in Season 5, Morgana kills other magic-users like Finna and Alator, who have been just as wronged by Arthur/Uther as she herself has been.

Kara - I've already written extensively about how she did nothing wrong and Arthur deserved to be deposed, so...same page there!

To wrap this up -

Nobody does everything right in this show.  Everybody screws up somewhere.  And the degree to which various people are both victims and villains is something we all have to decide for ourselves, and not all of our conclusions will be the same, which is perfectly fine.

But in the end, for me, the difference between Merlin and Morgana is that Merlin owns his choices.  He believes he is the one to blame for what happens not just to him, but to the people around him.  He literally says to Morgana, "I blame myself for what you've become."  And while I don't necessarily think that's even true, he certainly does.  Despite the fact that there are so many factors limiting him and forcing his hand and trapping him into certain courses of action, he never cites those factors as excuses, or seems to recognize their existence at all.  He takes responsibility for himself, regardless of any extenuating circumstances.  He looks back at his choices, and he feels remorse for some of them, and at the end of the day, when things go badly, he blames himself.  

But when things go badly for Morgana, she only ever blames others.  When something is wrong, it's because Merlin or Arthur or Gwen or whoever didn't help her (even though she never asked them for help in the first place.)  We never see her acknowledge a mistake or regret a decision, even though she obviously makes her fair share of bad ones.  She is never shown to be sorry for anything.  The closest we get to remorse is her interaction with Mordred in 5.09 ("I hope one day you find the love and compassion which used to fill your heart"), and that brief moment of inner conflict never goes anywhere (which is so unfortunate, as a writing decision, but again, in a piece like this, I can only evaluate what actually happened onscreen, not what I wish had happened).

So, all this being said, I personally am very careful about assigning more blame to Merlin than what he already assigns to himself - especially when he doesn't deserve it (for example, see Part 1 of this piece).  Merlin makes his share of mistakes, but we are generally much quicker to hold him accountable than we are Morgana, and we outline impossible expectations for him that we don't expect from any other character on this show.  We hold him to a different standard, one which is, frankly, pretty much in line with how he's treated in the canon: that everything is his responsibility, and when things don't work out, everything is his fault.  And I can’t get behind that mindset, because a) it isn’t fair to him, and b) I don’t think it holds up under scrutiny.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 53: Identity

Becoming The Mask

Barbara was at work when her phone buzzed. She didn't have time to check it – she was busy with a toddler who had swallowed a paperclip.

If it had gone into the kid's stomach, things might have been okay. There was some risk of the sharp point doing damage, or the wire catching and tangling in the intestines, but the rounded ends of the paperclip meant there was also a chance it would simply be passed through.

Unfortunately, instead of ingesting the paperclip, the child had aspirated it, so it needed to be removed from her right lung.

Immediately after Barbara got out of surgery, she had to work up the x-rays of a teenager who'd crashed his Vespa into a tree. Nothing was obviously broken and he didn't have a concussion, but there was a risk of hairline fractures.

And then, (because why not,) there were three successive cases of people who had stuck odd things up their butts and gotten those things stuck.

By the time she was able to sit down for two minutes and gulp some coffee, she had forgotten about her buzzing phone.

She didn't even look at her phone until she was leaving for the night. Barbara got it out to turn the ringer off, since she wasn't supposed to be on call that night, which never stopped anyone when they were short-staffed, which was often, and she was tired enough it would probably be dangerous for her to be treating patients again until she'd had some sleep.

(Also, she was probably tired enough that she shouldn't be driving, but Barbara never let herself think about that.)

After finding out she'd missed something as big as her kid sneaking around to fight a secret magical war, Barbara was trying to reassert some boundaries between her time at work and the rest of her life.

Her phone announced that she'd missed a notification.

It was just an exclamation point. What had that been supposed to mean?

Barbara turned her phone off and drove home.

"I'm back, kiddo!"

"We're in the kitchen!"

'We' meant Jim and Toby. Jim was pulling a shepherd's pie out of the oven. Toby and Barbara both inhaled appreciatively.

"You said it's lean ground beef, right?" asked Toby. Jim smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Tobes. You know if you cut all the fat out of your diet you'd get protein poisoning, right? Mom, back me up."

Barbara took a moment to remember this. She wasn't a nutritionist – she'd encountered this concept in a novel a few years ago and looked it up to see if it was true.

"He's right," she said. "It's the rarest kind of food poisoning. Not much risk of it happening here and now." Not in a city in the United States, haven of processed and instant foods.

Jim portioned out the steaming vegetables and meat and mashed potatoes. Barbara added some sour cream to hers.

"Is Nana out tonight?" she asked Toby.

"Yeah, she and some of her chess buddies are doing a tournament. Informal, I think, but maybe a prize? Like, a gift certificate or something."

"We should see if we can get her and Mr Strickler to play a match sometime," said Jim. "I think I heard once that he's a grandmaster, but I don't know how often he plays anymore."

That combination, Nancy and Walt, made Barbara's brain click and remember the significance of that exclamation point she'd sent herself.

"So … it's been a month. Have you made any progress on telling your friends' families about trolls?"

Both boys froze.

"We gave Vendel a bunch of family stories," said Toby. "Once he's done reading it, we'll find out if we have permission or we're going behind everybody's backs."

"Guess I should warn him the clock's ticking again," said Jim.

"We could maybe tell people now and say we're LARPing, and tell the whole truth later?" Toby suggested. "That's what my therapist thinks is going on."

"You told your therapist?" asked Barbara and Jim together, in very different tones.

Jim's eyes were huge. He had a white-knuckled grip on his silverware. "Tell me you didn't use the word 'Trollhunter' in front of her."

"… No?" said Toby in confusion. "I just said your character was a magic knight on a quest to fight an evil troll."

Jim sighed. "Okay, that's generic enough it's probably safe. Don't use any specific names or terms, though."

"Dude, you seriously think someone is spying on a random high schooler's therapy appointments?"

"Someone is spying on a random high school's entire history class," Jim pointed out.

The rest of the meal was tense. After they were done eating and cleaning up, Toby went back home, and Jim went upstairs to do homework.

Jim's yearbook from the previous year was on one of the shelves in the living room. Barbara brought it over to the couch.

She could use this to get an idea of who Jim and Toby's classmates were, at least.

Jim didn't have many signatures in the book. There was Toby's, of course. The rest all had generic messages – "Have a great summer" from Eli Pepperjack, "Have fun this summer!" from Shannon Longhannon, "See you in September" and a doodled smiley face from Claire Nuñez, and "Enjoy summer break" from Seamus Johnson.

People Jim knew? Or random classmates he approached so he wouldn't look 'weird' for not caring about yearbook autographs?

Barbara made note of all the names. She felt like Jim had let slip that the other children who knew about trolls were girls, early on, but she couldn't quite remember for sure and didn't want to rule anyone out. She flipped to the class photos to match names to faces, so she could keep watch for the signatories hanging around her house or across the street.

+=+

Enrique carefully printed the English alphabet. It hadn't been that hard to mimic from a reference image, but this was his first time writing it independently. He haltingly hummed the song to keep track of his place.

"Pretty good," said Claire, reading over his shoulder. He fought the urge to turn and strike. He was (supposed to be) safe. Claire wasn't purposefully lurking in his blind spot to attack him. "Definitely way better than my first scribbles. I guess next you should learn to write your name."

On another piece of paper, she printed it for him to copy.

The first letter was N. Sensible enough. Except wasn't that one pronounced 'nuh' instead of 'en' when it was in a word and not the alphabet? He shrugged. Claire knew this writing system better than he did – if she said Enrique started with N, he'd go with it until he had some evidence otherwise.

The second letter was O. He frowned. That … didn't feel right. Shouldn't it be an R?

The third letter was T. He stopped.

"Read it," he said to Claire, trying not to growl.

"Not Enrique," she said, without shame. "You only copied the 'Not' part so far."

Angrily, Enrique scribbled out the letters he'd written so far and the bit he'd copied from. In fast, shaky letters he copied out the rest of it and underlined it.

"No," said Claire, getting angry in turn, "you don't get to use that name. That's my brother's name, not yours."

"The kid can share. It's mine now."

"Oh, come on," Claire scoffed. "You're, like, hundreds of years old. I get that Jim's used to being called 'Jim' after sixteen years in deep cover or whatever, but you can't possibly have gotten that attached to 'Enrique' in just a few months."

… Did she really not know?

"It's the only name I've got."

"Bullshit. Other trolls had to call you something when you were in the Darklands."

Now he growled for real. "That wasn't a name."

"What, some kind of codename system? Then I'd think you'd welcome the chance to start using your real name again."

"I don't know what it used to be!" he snapped. "No one exactly kept track of who they were grabbing. And if we lived, it was 'Changeling' this and 'Impure' that if it wasn't just 'hey you'! Enrique's the first name I can remember having and you don't get to take it away from me!"

He stood there breathing hard for maybe a full minute. He'd cracked the pen. There was gloppy ink on his clenched fist. He licked it off before ink could drip on the floor, and popped the plastic into his mouth.

Claire's voice, when she spoke again, was a lot softer.

"How did anyone tell the Changelings apart, if … if you didn't have names?"

Enrique snorted. "You think they bothered? One Changeling's as good or as bad as any other. S'probably part of why Jim and the big Boss Man were so quick to change sides when they had the chance."

"Even the other Changelings?"

"The rule about not getting attached starts early."

Claire looked like she was about to cry. That … that wasn't fair, she didn't get to make him feel bad for her when they were in the middle of a fight …

"We give each other nicknames, sometimes," he admitted. Imp had been a popular one, if nothing else about a Changeling stood out. "Us or the goblins. But then when we get up top, it's like a rite of passage, you know? We get a name then. Using the old nickname's … like an insult. Saying you weren't worth making a surface agent."

Claire blinked rapidly a few times, then hugged him. He almost clawed her before realizing it wasn't an attack.

"Oi, easy!"

"You can't have my brother's name," she said stubbornly. "But we'll figure something else out."

"Not exactly your call to make," Enrique retorted.

"Don't ruin the moment."

"What moment–?!"

+=+

Previous Chapter (Troll Dads become official!)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Angor Rot’s debut!)

Not featured in the above chapter: Jim's internal panic, as he frantically tries to figure out how much Toby has already told Dr Archenn and how to warn Toby off telling her anything else, without exposing yet another Changeling's identity to humans.

Featured in the above chapter: my headcanon that Otto addressing Not Enrique as 'Imp' in early Season 2 was a deliberate insult. I've actually got a different nickname in mind for Not Enrique, it just didn't feel natural to bring it up in this scene. Imp, short for Impure, is basically a 'starter nickname' that all Changelings have in the Darklands, until and unless something about them stands out enough that the other Changelings start calling them something else.

[hello-nichya-here]

How to Leash Your Girls: A Fire Foursome Drabble

Here are some more Fire Foursome headcanons if you like. And if you think they are good enough can you please leave a comment under my AO3 page while also putting them on your AOE Fire Foursome page? Thanks!

KEY POINT: The headcanons in this assume an Azula who has gotten the help she has needed, make amends with everyone, and rekindled her friendship with her old friends and Zuko before Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee initiated Azula into their "arrangement."

Q: What if Zuko decided to keep the other members of The Foursome on leash in public while goes about his duty for a day? And what kind of bribes would the girls require before being leashed, if they require any at all?

General Note: This scenario takes place well before any kids are even born for Zuko would never do this if they had any kids together. This is because he would never embarrass the mother(s) of his kid(s) like that or his kid(s) period. And if Zuko was stupid/evil enough to ask, the girls would harshly reject Zuko before Ty Lee chi blocked him, with Mai then pinning him to a wall, and then the two girls having Azula shoot Zuko with (weak) lighting before forcing him to sleep alone in a guest bedroom for at least a month and banned from touching them at all for at least that long as well.

Initially: All three of the girls vehemently reject Zuko’s request. On Ty Lee’s end, she doesn’t like the idea of ever being tied down and being put on a leash is literally being tied down. On Mai’s end, a leash is a literal manifestation of how she felt for most of her childhood due to her parents’ and Azula’s controlling nature. And while she has forgiven her parents and Azula, she never wants to be “leashed” again. On Azula’s end, she admonishes Zuko for even thinking of the idea since it reminds her of the times she got straightjacketed for long periods of time while in the asylum and thus is liable to trigger one of her episodes. Not that Azula blames Zuko for that now since she realized long ago that Zuko had a nation to rebuild and he had shown her mercy when everyone other than the peacenik Avatar had called for her head and/or bending even if their nation’s medieval understanding of mental health at the time only hurt her. But she is still upset by the suggestion since he of all people should know what restraints like that do to her psyche.

Bribe (Ty Lee): When Zuko presses her about wearing the leash, Ty Lee eventually agrees but she has some take it or leave it requests which Zuko happily agrees to even though it will decrease what little free time he has. The first one is that Zuko has to spend more time with her mediating. For Mai really doesn’t see the point of mediation and Azula is very lacking spiritually while Zuko is really the only other person in The Foursome with an interest in spirituality. And to make things worse, while Mai does trust Ty Lee’s aura sense and Azula in time has learned to do the same, only Zuko wholeheartedly trusts in Ty Lee’s spirituality. And Ty Lee’s second request is that she gets to have more one-on-one dates with Zuko. Not that she is trying to usurp Mai’s position as Zuko main girl, or that she is upset that Zuko gives priority access to Mai, but Ty Lee really likes Zuko and one of the joys in her life is getting to know post-redemption Zuko, whose behavior has mostly reverted in time to the kind and sweet person she knew before Ozai’s abuse almost broke him.

Bribe (Mai): When Zuko comes back to her and begs her to be leashed, Mai initially acts like she still isn’t going to listen to Zuko request until Zuko starts to beg her. Realizing that she has Zuko right where she wants him and will be able to get him to agree to something that normally he wouldn’t. So she makes his demand: she wants the ability to peg Zuko whenever she desires when they have a love making session instead of the once a week agreement they currently have. For Mai loves using her strap-on to dominate her lovers: she loves fucking Ty Lee doggy style while grabbing Ty Lee’s braid; she loves pulling Azula’s legs up and edging Azula until Azula begs her queen (Mai makes sure that Azula refers to her as her queen whenever they are in the bedroom) to let her cum; and she especially loves doggy fucking Zuko. For Zuko is the most high strung man she knows, not that she doesn’t love that about him, and loves slowly pounding his ass until he is a whimpering mess and then, after cumming herself, slowly jerking him off while still inside of him until he loudly moans and cums. But unfortunately, anal takes a lot more out of Zuko than the girls and so they came to an agreement that she can only peg him once a week. That and the fact that world leaders once mocked Zuko for coming to an international meeting one day walking like he had been fucked in the ass (spoiler alert: Mai had destroyed his ass the previous night). But if Zuko was going to put her on a leash in public she no longer cared about the sanctity of Zuko’s asshole or his public image. And even if Zuko shudders at what will happen, both in anticipation of the pleasure, pain, and public shaming he will soon face, he happily agrees.

Bribe (Azula): 

Zuko then goes to Azula’s office after arranging for a private meeting, but Azula is already aware well in advance of what Zuko was going to ask (even after all these years and Azula’s constant advice, Zuko was still an open book) and already her demands prepared, confident that Zuko will agree to them. And what are Azula’s demands? They are to be Zuko’s little spoon for the majority of the week and that she gets to tease Ursa directly about their arrangement. Zuko immediately tried pushing back against her first request, pointing out that Mai had always been his little spoon from the moment they had first started dating, and that it was not under either of their control to change that. For Mai made it very clear to everyone in The Foursome that she was to always be Zuko’s little spoon and if anyone challenged that they were getting cut. 

But Azula then revealed that she had come to an agreement with Mai regarding that topic. And what was that agreement? That Mai, whenever she desired, got to take one of them from behind while the other laid underneath the one being taken and fucked them in the other available hole while kissing each other. And then once they came, the siblings would switch positions and continue once again. For Mai loves seeing the siblings go at it and once Azula suggested her “accommodation”, Mai blushed at the thought of being able to directly partake in the hot and taboo action while also getting pleasured by Ty Lee (who also agreed to Azula’s new sexual arrangement) and agreed to the new little spoon arrangement (Mai would become Ty Lee’s little spoon instead of Azula for the nights Mai and Azula switched places). Zuko then asked how Ty Lee could also pleasure Mai at the same time with Azula quickly responding that Ty Lee would also be using her strap-on and anally fuck Mai while Mai was fucking one of them, with Azula quickly making a drawing to illustrate the positioning with stick figures, with Ty Lee taking Mai from behind before burning it. 

Zuko agreed that the sex positions would be highly pleasurable and he did like comforting Azula, who thanks to her therapy, now knew how to properly show affection and appreciation towards her loved ones even if she struggled to do so. But how were they going to exactly tease their mother? While they were finally going to go public with their relationship (Ch.2 for details), Zuko didn’t want to push the issue. But that is exactly what Azula wanted to do because she wanted to show mother she had finally become the “good little sister” mother had always wanted her to be. Zuko scoffed at the idea for they were more than brother and sister at this point, but he agreed for he finally got all his girls to agree to his desire without having to give up that much in return. Agni! If anything his life was going to only get better. And besides, how would Azula teasing their mother about their relationship be any worse than him putting her on a lease with his other lovers?

Results: 

The day Zuko introduced his leached girls to the public was one to remember. For when Mai (she is Zuko’s head advisor alongside Azula), Azula, and Ty Lee (Zuko got her off work for the day) entered court with Zuko, people gawked for a minute straight before Mai told them to go on with today’s agenda lest she dismissed them all and their claims would end up on the waiting list which was a least six months long the last time Mai checked. The rest of day until lunch was spend working but everyone was shocked that: Zuko had a harem; that his full blooded sister was part of said harem despite their contentious past; and that the girls, who had a reputation of being strong willed and independent, would allow Zuko to leash them. 

And when lunch time came, they went to eat with Ursa, Kiyi, Noren, Tom Tom, Michi, and Iroh where all hell broke loose. This was because Azula took the liberty to tease her mother, telling Ursa that she, Ty Lee, and Mai had found their purpose in life: being Zuko’s bitches and that she was trying to be the little sister Ursa had always wanted her to be by being Zuko’s attack dog before aggressively barking to show her enthusiasm. Zuko tried yanking on Azula’s leash to stop her but the damage was done, for Ursa fainted at the realization that her suspicions were true and that they were in an incestous relationship alongside their old friends. Noren, after staring at the spectacle, carried Ursa to the palace healer while Kiyi and Tom Tom started laughing at the absurd situation they found themselves in before mocking everyone else for missing the obvious. For how could everyone see how love dubby The Foursome were in public, despite the attempts to keep their relationship a secret, and not see where they were all in a relationship? They also found it funny to see Azula and Mai, who usually don’t take shit from anyone and are very prideful, engage in such a humiliating and public act of submission. Azula and Mai wanted to put their siblings in their place but realized they didn’t have a foot to stand on. That and because they couldn’t reach them due to their leashes not being long enough. Michi was disgusted by the degeneracy in front of her but she reminded herself that Mai is Fire Lady, and thus mother to the future heir. So she is able to put aside her true feelings and smile. Iroh was both weirded out and proud. Weird out in the sense that he couldn’t understand why Zuko had an incestous relationship...let alone one with Azula of all people. And why did he leash his women? Did he not understand what he was doing to his reputation or the reputation of the Fire Nation? But on the other hand, Iroh was proud that Zuko had a loving harem where he was so in charge that he could put some of the most powerful and prideful women in leashes. Iroh also had an intrusive thought where he wondered if he could have “redeemed” Ozai, if Ozai was Oza instead but he quickly dismissed it. 

Lunch was short but tense before The Foursome headed back to court, where it was more of the same. Later on that day, Ursa woke up in her bed, wondering out loud if what she saw early today was just a bad nightmare. But Noren, who was sitting at their personal desk, shook his head before coming to her bed to comfort her. Noren then explained to her that he had suspected The Foursome being a thing for a long time but didn’t expose them out of respect for them and Ursa. He then told her that royalty had long history of having weird peccadilloes and, even if an incest harem weirds him out, it was utimately harmless. Besides, it seems like they actually love each other and seem to bring out the best out of each other, which he thinks is what Ursa wants for her kids, since he knows about their history and thinks that all Ursa wants for them to be self-actualized people content with their lives. Ursa first frowns at what Noren says but eventually agrees with him for all she just wanted her babies to be happy? And if being together does that for them then she just has to get used to it? Right?

And speaking of happiness, after they were done in court the foursome went to the gardens where Zuko started to fulfill the promises he made to his girls by mediating with Ty Lee. Mai and Azula initially complained but once they saw how happy Ty Lee was they shut up. And when they realized that they weren’t going anywhere due to their leashes, they started to meditate alongside their lovers and found that even if they still didn’t understand how it was supposed to help your spirituality, it did help relax them after a stressful day in court. After Ty Lee and Zuko finished, they then went to dinner, where Mai and Azula asked if they could join Ty Lee and Zuko’s mediation sessions and Ty Lee and Zuko quickly agreed, happy that their loved ones finally realized the benefits of mediation. 

They then headed to Zuko and Mai’s chambers, where after engaging in foreplay and making sure that everyone was ready, Zuko started to fulfill his bargain with Mai by pinning Azula to the bed before taking her, while Mai took him from behind while also having Ty Lee take Mai from behind as well. Normally The Foursome had incredibly stamina in the bedroom thanks to their incredible physical condition, but their conditioning was no match for the novel sex position. For the entanglement of limbs, the sibling on sibling action, and the fact that they were all (literally) connected to each other excited them to the point that they only lasted a couple of minutes before they loudly and messily orgasmed on each other. After taking a couple of minutes to catch their breath, Zuko started to switch positions so they could engage in the other position that Mai desired but Azula stopped and suggested a new course. Instead of her straddling Zuko while Mai took her from behind, Zuko would lean against a wall while fucking Azula in the ass in a standing full nelson while Mai, who would be standing as well, would fuck Azula in her pussy and Ty Lee would take Mai from behind while pressing her hands against the wall. Of course if Mai didn’t like that they would continue with the prior agreed position Azula quickly made clear but Mai gave Azula an affectionate kiss on the forehead while patting Azula’s head and told her it was an excellent idea. The Foursome then got into position, making sure they were all stable in their positioning before going at it. And boy did they need to be secure for the novelty of the position combined with heighted closeness and pressure from essentially being squished together made The Foursome even last shorter than the last time and almost made them collapse to the floor due to their powerful orgasms making them lose their bearings for a moment. 

After gently releasing each other and taking a moment to catch their breath, the exhausted Foursome took a quick shower before entering bed, with Mai as Ty Lee’s little spoon and Azula as Zuko’s. And as Zuko started to fall asleep Zuko reflected on how this was just the beginning. For he had a date set up with Ty Lee in the morning after he was done with his morning training but before he had to go to court. And he still had to deal with his mother and the probable public and international backlash to his stunt. Not to mention the very likely intervention his friends would stage in the near future for surely Zuko would have had to lose his mind to be in a harem with Azula, let alone publically leash his girls. But as he laid in bed, with his girls soundly asleep, Zuko was happy with what happened and was going to happen for the experience had brought them all closer, which was the whole point of leashing his girls in the first place. Thus, content with life, Zuko fell asleep, ready to deal with any challenges since he knew his girls would do anything for him and that he in turn would do anything for them.

***

That is a great post, with one hell of a great title

[gleekto]

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA,  and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Even Better Than the Real Thing (5/15)

Kurt is sitting at his desk, completing his essay on queer subtext in ‘Cats’ when Rachel rushes in the front door like a hurricane. “Please help me clean, Kurt. They’ll be here soon.”

“Who will be here when?” Kurt is immediately irritated. 

“You know, the cast, hair and make up, whomever can make it. I really felt that as the star of the show that I should be hosting a get together evening. I’ve got the wine, we can warm up some easy appetizers, cut some veggies. Oh and can you make your guacamole?-”

‘Wait what? Did you even think to ask me if tonight worked for me? My essay is due tomorrow.”

“I did-” Kurt stares at her. “I didn’t ask? I mean I thought I mentioned it last weekend.” 

Kurt sighs deeply. “You didn’t.”

“Okay I’m sorry. But come on, Kurt. I know your essay must be almost done. You never leave anything to the last minute-”

“Unlike some other people, apparently.” Kurt groans and shakes his head but begrudgingly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. “You clean. I’ll do the guac and veggies.” Rachel thanks him profusely and he shoos her away so he can get the food done. He will need to shower and change before anyone arrives. And clean his room. Because though he won’t ask Rachel who’s coming, he’s not going to risk Blaine Anderson thinking his home is a mess. 

...

By the time Kurt feels ready enough to enter the gathering from the safety of his bedroom, having carefully chosen a definitely flattering but not trying too hard outfit for the occasion - a skintight white long sleeved shirt under a dark grey vest with tight dark blue jeans - there are already a good ten guests in his living room, milling and drinking wine and laughing too loudly. But so far, no Blaine Anderson. He chats for a bit with Sarah and Joan, two of the hair and make up folks, and tries very hard to be interested in whose hair is the hardest to get consistently correct, and not to be distracted by who is not there.

“Rachel!” The door swings open about half an hour later and there he is, giving Rachel a big hug, handing her a bottle of red wine, and apologizing for being late. Kurt’s heart beat quickens slightly but he notices that he is not going into full on panic mode. They’re friends, buddies, and of course they’ll talk tonight. Yes, it’s Blaine Anderson and yes, he’s really very gorgeous, but it’s a bit more like hot gay friend has entered the premises and less like he’s holding his breath to catch a brief glimpse of Sing!’s most eligible bachelor. He can do this.

“You almost missed your chance,” Kurt wanders over and hands Blaine a Corona with lime. “It’s the last one but lucky for you, I set it aside.”

Blaine smiles widely, looking genuinely thankful  - Kurt thinks more appreciative than a saved beer would warrant. “You know my drink of choice?”

“Given that it’s all you’ve been drinking each time I’ve seen you - I guess I know your “drink of choice.” Kurt makes quotation marks with his fingers.

Blaine raises the bottle in a cheers-like gesture. “So this is your home,” Blaine takes in the apartment, looking at both Kurt and Rachel. 

“Two bedrooms, two bathrooms-” 

“That was a requirement,” Kurt adds. “I have a very particular nighttime skin routine and there was no way I was competing with Rachel Berry for the mirror.” Blaine laughs and keeps smiling at him with those sparkly eyes.  It’s unnerving.

“Kurt, why don’t you give him a mini-tour? I need to refill the Sangria bowl,” Rachel says, flitting off to the next thing.

“Why don’t you, then?” Blaine says. Kurt surveys the room. The apartment is not that big.

“Well, this is the living room slash kitchen slash main room.” I mean, Blaine can’t really think there is that much of a tour to take, but he’ll humour him. Kurt leads Blaine to Rachel’s unfortunately overly pink room and bathroom. “I couldn’t convince her that it was not a bold choice, but a bad choice.” Blaine’s eyebrows rise as he takes in light pink walls with splashes of bubble gum pink accents, and he laughs genuinely at Kurt’s commentary. Neither this tour, nor Kurt, are really that amusing but okay. Blaine Anderson is having fun. 

“I guess she really is a girly girl at heart,” Blaine says as he follows Kurt into his own room. Much more soothing, and more adult, shades of blues and greys, with some bold orange accent pillows on his bed for flare. 

“A girly girl can still have taste - and that room, Blaine, is too much pink.” 

“I dated a guy last year who had a pink room,” Blaine rolls his eyes at the memory as he sits down on Kurt’s bed. Okay. Guess they’re staying here for a bit.

“Just really proud?” Kurt pulls out his desk chair and faces Blaine.

“A proud gay guy can still have taste,” Blaine mimics, looking approvingly around Kurt’s room.

“Indeed.” There’s a brief pause and Kurt’s heart starts to race again, worried it might get awkward. “Wait - didn’t you say you couldn’t meet anyone while working on Sing!?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t stop me from trying. Or sort of trying while enjoying,” Blaine pauses. “The LA scenery.” 

Now Kurt laughs, shaking his head to himself. “Honestly, I can’t imagine having a life where there are so many options that they are all just part of the pretty scenery. Although I suppose Mr. Pink’s room didn’t qualify.”

“Mr. Pink,” Blaine pauses, looking like he is assessing whether he should say whatever is on the tip of his tongue. “Had a body to make up for the room,” Kurt’s eyes widen but he wills himself to play it cool. No big deal. Friends chatting about past relationships. “So we had a week of torrid sex and the rest is history.”

Kurt bites his lip. This image is too much. Blaine Anderson having torrid sex is too much. He knows he’s red. He just says the first thing that comes into his head, “Honestly, Blaine, I’m from Lima, Ohio and your life right now, it’s outside my mid-western frame of reference.”

Blaine chuckles again but he nods. Does he think Kurt is just hilariously innocent? “I know. You know, I don’t completely forget what it’s like to arrive in LA from small town Ohio. I’m only 24.  Did you ever get out to Columbus for any of the  LBGT youth dances or game nights? I used to do that. Even got my first kiss from a drunken college freshman behind the community centre. Very romantic.”

“Nope.” Kurt answers quickly. “Never went to Columbus. No dances or games. No kisses.” He’s embarrassed but what else was he going to say? Blaine’s suspicion of his innocence confirmed.

“No first kisses?” Blaine repeats and Kurt shakes his head quickly. 

“Why is that so hard to believe? I thought we already discussed that Lima is not exactly a gay mecca.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not. Lima would not exactly be the best place to meet someone.” Blaine agrees, shaking his head and looking down slightly before looking right back into Kurt’s eyes. “It’s just that,” Blaine breathes in, “You’re hot.”

What. The fuck. 

Great. Now the silence is going to be super painful because Kurt is certain no coherent words will come out of his mouth ever again. 

“Anyways,” Blaine bites his lower lip, shaking off his momentary slip of the tongue. “Thank you for the tour.” Kurt gets up to lead them back out to the others. “You’re one up on Mr. Pink.”

“For my decor? I hope so.” Kurt manages to speak words.

“In all areas,” Blaine says quietly from behind him and before Kurt can register the second less than subtle compliment in five minutes, and turn around, Blaine is back in the crowd, chatting with Joan and Sarah as if nothing could be more interesting than the perfect hair gel. As if he did not just say what he said. 

Kurt is done. For the night. Maybe forever. He’s sure he’s not capable of any more small talk with echoes of “You’re hot” and “In all areas” singing through his head. He quietly sneaks into his bedroom and closes the door. He may be innocent and even naive. But Blaine Anderson was most definitely flirting with him. He was honest, at least about his relationship past (or lack thereof), but Blaine didn’t run away. He stayed. And stared. And flirted. 

This situation is real. And very complicated. 

He needs to stop blogging. 

Out of respect for my source, who is a good friend, I need to stop posting on this blog. I will leave the blog up for all the fun gifs, and I may even be back to peruse on occasion. You know I will miss you all. Keep sing!ing, my friends -LimaBlaineFan

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.

written for @fuckyeahgratsu​ gratsu weekend 2021 event

day 2; prompt: secret/confession

Chapters: 1 | 2  Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings

-----

Lyon didn’t answer Gray’s first text, or his third, or his tenth. Eventually Gray gave up, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his shoes.

“Where are we going?” Natsu, who had been quiet during the texting, reappeared next to Gray’s reflection in the hallway mirror. “Are we finally getting something to eat? I know you’re not hungry, but I am.” Gray could tell Natsu still didn’t believe him about not wanting to eat, but his first cup of coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and he was too tired to argue.

“Fine, we can get food.” He shrugged on his jacket and locked the door behind them, then started down the road toward Main Street. “What do you want?”

“What’s the best thing you’ve ever had for breakfast?”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray considered the question as they made their way past the morning crowd. A cool spring wind carried cherry blossoms down from the trees and dusted them in pink and white across the street. The sun was thin but warm, and Gray felt some of the tension in his shoulders relax.

“Uh, probably cinnamon buns? There’s a good place down the street. I haven’t been in a while, though.”

“You haven’t been anywhere in a while,” Natsu agreed.

“Stop going through my memories,” Gray hissed. He pushed the button for the crosswalk and caught the eye of the woman standing beside him. She was giving him a strange look and it took him a second to remember that she couldn’t see Natsu.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Natsu insisted as Gray shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried across the street, away from the woman’s puzzled gaze. “I haven’t done this in a long time. It’s weird.”

“You’ve possessed people before?” Gray kept his voice low.

“Yeah.”

“…why? When?”

“Uh… what year is it?”

Gray raised his eyebrow. “2021.”

Natsu was quiet for a second – all Gray could hear was a low muttering that sounded suspiciously like someone counting on their fingers. Eventually Natsu said, “About two hundred years ago? I can’t remember exactly.”

Gray stopped talking as he stepped into the café, trying to ignore Natsu’s excited exclamations while he studied the pastry shelf.

“Ooh, what’s the pink one? Is that cake? Can we have cake for breakfast? And more coffee. What’s a latte? You should get a banana or something too. You don’t eat a lot of fruit.”

“That’s none of your business,” Gray grumbled under his breath, but he grabbed an apple from next to the till and added it to the cinnamon bun and coffee he purchased.

Natsu made a contented sound as Gray sat down at one of the tables outside the café and took a bite of the cinnamon bun. A pleased aura radiated from him, somewhere in the back of Gray’s mind.

“Can you taste it?” Gray asked. He’d pulled out his headphones and put an earbud in one ear, hoping that it looked like he was talking on the phone rather than to an imaginary friend.

“Sort of.” Natsu hummed appreciatively when Gray took another bite. “I know it’s good and that I like it, but it’s kind of… blurry.”

“Blurry?”

Natsu sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like there’s a… a filter on things, between you and me. So, when you touch or eat something, I feel it, it’s just… blurry.”

“Huh.” Gray finished the cinnamon bun and the apple in silence, giving his brain time to process everything as he watched the world go on around him. There was a part of him that kept wanting to panic, but nothing about the situation felt dangerous. In fact, it was kind of nice to have some company. And he did feel better after eating.

“See?” Natsu sounded pleased with himself. “I knew you were hungry,”  

“Shut up,” Gray said half-heartedly. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching him talk to Natsu, then said, “You don’t seem very evil. For a demon, I mean.”

“I’m not evil!” Natsu said indignantly. “That’s why I haven’t possessed anyone in so long. Usually, people – warlocks, whatever – summon demons for shitty reasons, like they wanna hurt people. Or get revenge, or whatever. I don’t do that.”

“You can just refuse to show up when you’re summoned?”

“It depends. If someone calls on me specifically with my true name, I can’t say no. But if it’s just a generic, ‘I need a demon to strike down my enemies, blah, blah, blah,’ someone else can take it. There’s lots of other demons and I’m nobody special.”

Gray frowned, poking at the crumbs on his plate. “So…why are you here now? And why me? If Lyon summoned you, why aren’ t you possessing him?”

“He did the spell wrong,” Natsu explained. “Like I said, he’s a shitty warlock.”

“Not the only thing he’s shitty at,” Gray said, rolling his eyes. “Why’d he try to summon you, anyway?”

“Something about his ex.”

“Figures.” Gray took another sip of his coffee. “Did he know your real name, then?”

“Nope.”

“Then…you decided to possess me on purpose?” He caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window of the café and could see Natsu’s embarrassed expression.

“Yeah. Sort of. I guess.”

“Why?”

Natsu didn’t answer right away. An uncomfortable sensation started to spread down the back of Gray’s neck, and he couldn’t tell if it was coming from Natsu or himself. He shifted in his chair, fighting the sudden urge to go home and go back to bed.

“You’re not tired,” Natsu said. “Why do you want to sleep?”

Gray’s chest tightened and he shook his head, staring down at his half-empty coffee cup. “I don’t,” he insisted. “I just…” He felt a gentle tug at the back of his mind.

“Is it ‘cause you’re sad again?”

“I’m not.” Gray ground his teeth, then interrupted Natsu’s next question. “Stop poking around in my head and tell me why you’re in there.”

“I need to find my body,” Natsu said reluctantly.  

Gray frowned. “You have your own body? Here?”

Natsu’s reflection nodded. “Well, not here here, I’m not sure where it is right now. But someone else has my body and I want it back.”

“How did that happen?”

The version of Natsu in the café window reflection settled down in the seat across from Gray and rested his chin on his hands. Even though Gray couldn’t see Natsu, the invisible gaze made Gray feel naked.

“I was really sick when I was a kid,” Natsu said after a moment. “Like, really sick. All the physickers said I was gonna die, and my brother didn’t wanna believe it. He was always trying to save me. Nothing worked, so he started messing around with dark magic.”

“With demons.”

Natsu nodded. “He thought he could do some sort of exchange – his soul for my life – so he summoned this demon, Mard Geer, who agreed to make a deal with him. Zeref was so excited that it worked that he didn’t word the deal carefully enough. Mard Geer agreed to fix my body for a soul.”

“Let me guess. He took your body and tossed your soul into Hell.”

Natsu scowled at the table. “Yep. Technically he didn’t lie – he fixed the problem. My body isn’t sick anymore, it’s just not mine.”

Natsu’s anger crept through Gray’s mind, winding threads of bitterness around his own ache of exhaustion and sadness. He let out a quiet gasp at the sensation, leaning forward with his head in his hands as the feelings washed over him. For some reason it made him want to cry.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Gray felt the tingling sensation start to creep up his arm again and he sat up quickly, pulling his hand to his chest and clenching his fist.

“Stop doing that.” He tried to keep his voice down, but the flood of emotions overwhelmed his common sense.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care.” He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and stood up quickly, nearly knocking over his chair. “Please, I…” He kept his eyes down, cheeks burning as he avoided the stares he knew he was getting. Leaving his half-empty coffee behind, he stormed away from the café and down the street.

“I’m sorry.” Natsu’s voice was soft in his head, and the angry sensation from before was quickly replaced by regret.

“It’s my body,” Gray whispered as he ducked around a crowd of people. “You can’t just… you can’t.”

Natsu didn’t say anything for a second, then very quietly said, “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop going through my fucking memories!” Gray ignored the stares he got as he darted across the street, ignoring the blaring of car horns. He knew exactly what Natsu was seeing – images of someone he tried hard to forget, someone who never took no for an answer.

“I’m sorry,” Natsu said again. “I’m not trying to, I promise, I don’t know how to… to turn it off.”

Gray didn’t reply, just kept walking as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Natsu was quiet – the only indicator that he was still there was the undercurrent of shame and sorrow. Eventually Gray’s breathing started to even out, and by the time they reached the intersection before the park, the sensation of wanting to cry was gone.

“I’m—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gray interrupted, cutting off what he assumed was going to be another apology. He jabbed the crosswalk button, hard, then tried his best to turn his mind back to the conversation from before. “So,” he said. “We just need to find your body, exorcise a demon, and somehow get you back inside it.”

A wave of surprise washed over Gray’s mind. “You’ll help me?” Natsu sounded genuinely shocked. “For real?”

“That’s why you possessed me, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah.” A bus passed in front of them, and Gray could see Natsu in the window reflection, standing next to him with a small smile on his face. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually help, though. Nobody ever has.”

Gray felt a hot flush rush to his cheeks, and he wasn’t quite sure why. “Well, I don’t want you in my brain forever,” he said quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets as they crossed the street. “I have to do something about it. I’m just… not sure how.”

“We’d, um, need a locating spell,” Natsu said. “To find my body. I’m pretty sure it’s close-ish, I dunno how to do that kind of magic, though.”

“Me either,” Gray said. He looked up at the building that now loomed in front of them – the college dorm. “But Lyon does.”

[mydarlingklaus]

The Apology

Part 3 of the angsty “The Merge” arc is now updated! Highly anticipated reunion between Klaus and Lizzie. So glad you all have been enjoying these drabbles! Thank you for leaving all your reviews on my ff account, I appreciate it! You can find part 1 here  and part 2 here! Enjoy :)

WARNING: Angst galore!

**********************************************************

New Orleans, 2:45 AM

Klaus' elbows rested on the lengthy solid wood dining table as his interlocked fingers covered his trembling mouth and flared nostrils—eyes practically burning a hole through Lizzie's forehead who was sitting across the other side. Carefully watching as she ate the grilled cheese sandwich he prepared for her—raising children forced him to learn his way around the kitchen. After Klaus paid the cab driver and compelled him to forget arriving here and picking anyone up in the last two hours, he was too enraged to speak to Lizzie when she eventually brought her luggage inside. Figured making her a meal would ease his mind and rationalize his thoughts—it did not.

As she settled in Klaus called Alaric to inform him about Lizzie's whereabouts—of course Caroline was his first option but he was still feeling petty. The insufferable human speaking over him was irritating, especially when realizing they contacted each other just a few seconds apart. Josie and Hope were both heavily interrogated by Caroline and Alaric. Hope was clueless but eventually they were able to pull the truth out of Josie. The news broke Klaus' heart all over again, but he reassured Alaric that Lizzie was safe in New Orleans and would call back after talking with her first.

Her bites were small, awkwardly shifting her attention down at the plate and up at the man with dagger eyes. One cheek resembled a chipmunk's as she prolonged each chew in the hopes that Klaus would be the first to break the dead silence—no such luck. She knew Klaus was pissed, which was unusual towards her because he had never genuinely been upset with her in the past.

She gulped the food down her throat with a dramatic swallow before placing the remainder of the sandwich on the porcelain plate. Using the napkin on her lap to rid her mouth of crumbs, subtly clearing her throat.

"Um, thanks for the food by the way. I was starving." Lizzie extended her gratitude with a soft smile that fell when Klaus did not reciprocate.

The silent treatment was growing tiresome, along with Lizzie's patience.

"Did you call my mom?"

His stomach clenched at the reference, but he finally spoke. "I called your father, actually, at the exact same time he called me."

"Are you two wonder twins or something?" She half joked, but Klaus obviously was not amused causing her to clear her throat. "So this means they already knew I was here. Well Josie certainly knows how to keep a secret huh." She rolled her eyes.

"You're lucky she said something." Klaus blurted. "Everyone was worried about you, I was worried about you."

"And like I already told you, I'm fine. I made it here unharmed didn't I? You don't have to keep treating me like a child—"

"You are a child, Lizzie." Klaus' tone low and dark—dropping his hands onto the table but eyes of fury never leaving hers. "You're a beautiful and naive 17 year old girl who has lived in the bubble of a small town her whole life, and despite thinking you know everything about the dangers of the world, you don't."

"Klaus—"

"Anything could have happened to you, anything, do you understand?" His glare deepened.

She groaned while rolling her eyes. "Yes, yes I get that but—"

"There are no 'buts'!" He slammed his hand on table,frightening the teenage girl. "And obviously you don't get it otherwise you wouldn't have done something so...so selfish and irresponsible! How many times do I have to explain to you girls, just because you're a powerful witch in Mystic Falls does not make you invincible to the real world. Evil comes in all shapes and forms, you have no idea what to look for. People in this city know who you are and how important you are to me. Why do you think I'm so protective over you all whenever you visit? What if someone recognized you wandering this hectic city alone at this hour, with some vendetta thinking they have something to prove by..."

He wiped his hand over his face exasperatedly, inhaling and exhaling as he regrouped, hating when his mind wandered to the darkest of places. Since Caroline became a permanent part of his life Klaus not a day went by he wasn't terrified for her safety, even more with the twins. The nightmares he never told her about of his deepest fears. He's had to protect Hope her entire life from the dark forces insistent on taking her away from him, now his family was expanding and felt helpless to stop life from happening to them. They inherited a thousand years worth of enemies and he couldn't be there for all of them at once. Seeing Lizzie, alone, on his doorsteps was among the most haunting images he's ever seen.

The witch rubbed her lips together, blinking away the sheen covering her blue eyes for a better visual of his disgruntled expression. Klaus wasn't simply upset, he was scared—clear as day on his face. Klaus has always been overprotective since they were kids and barely knew each other. Sometimes he was extreme: like not allowing her and Sebastian to go on unsupervised dates, or her having to text him her every move if she went on a trip without him, or one of his hybrids watching over at her football games when Klaus was unable to attend. It was behavior she grew accustomed to, fighting that is who he is. She underestimated how triggered he would be about her traveling on her own—expected some fleeting harsh words but his silence hurt more. Never did she mean to harm or scare him in any way.

Placing her hands out in front of her on the table, Lizzie picked at the fabric on the sleeves of her sweater.

"I'm sorry, okay. I never meant to freak you out. I just thought...I thought you'd be happy to see me." She said defeated.

Klaus' eyebrows furrowed, offended she would think otherwise. "Of course I'm happy to see you. I'm always happy to see you, Lizzie you know that. But you can't do reckless things like this and expect me not to, 'freak out', as you say." The tension slightly dissipating with his soft smirk. "I always worry, every bloody day about you girls when you're together, never even entertaining you all being apart. You mean...everything to me, do you understand?"

Lizzie understandably nodded as Klaus left his seat to walk over to her. Pulling out the chair beside her he sat down, with an expression ranging from relieved and anxious on his face. His hand reached out to hold hers on the table—giving them both much needed comfort.

"However, running away from home without warning is not an excuse. There are more pressing matters we need to discuss now that you're safe and well like, how did you acquire a plane ticket so last minute in the first place. How did you know I was here?"

The young witch swallowed audibly, squeezing his hand.

"Um, I sorta, well definitely, called Uncle Kol and told him I was running away and needed to see you. He didn't want to say anything at first but after much precision he finally told me you were in New Orleans and bought a ticket for me."

"HE WHAT?!" Klaus' eyes bulged and fist balled as he let her hand go.

As if the situation could not be worse—of course Klaus' delinquent of a baby brother was involved!

Lizzie winced, leaning back against her chair. "This is the reason I was holding off telling you..."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "How dare he...and he knew I would never allow it. I am going to kill him, violently, and you be sure to tell him so during your next chat." He huffed. "Why were you running away anyways?"

"Same reason you did." She answered, making Klaus pause.

His glare and jaw softened as the realization settled in.

"You know..."

She nodded again, with shifty eyes and a blank face.

"And Josie?"

"Of course I told her. She's my sister. There's enough lies running around the boarding school and this effects both of us, remember?"

He knew, eventually, the twins would have to find out but didn't feel any better with them knowing before he had time to process it himself. How was he to console them about a matter he could barely grasp? The time away from Mystic Falls—from Caroline—did little to clear his mind because every second he thought about it the anger resurfaced.

Klaus let out a deep exhale scooting his chair closer to her and rubbing his hands together.

"Do you, um...do you want to talk about it?" He asked concerned.

She scoffed while crossing her arms. "About the fact that in a few years I'm either going to die or be forced to murder my sister, and my parents have been lying to me about it my whole life? Thanks but no thanks."

"We're going to have to talk about this eventually." He tried to reason with her but her refusal was as stubborn as a brick.

"Then I'll wait for eventually." She decided with a shrug.

"Lizzie—"

"I'm tired." She yawned covering her mouth. "It's been a long day and I can barely keep my eyes open so, can I just go to my room now please?"

- Say no, say no.

Klaus was such a weakling when it came to his daughters, specifically Lizzie. Her big blue eyes and pouty lip held so much innocence she reminded him of the little girl he once knew.

It has been a long night, for both of them. They could always talk in the morning when they're both refreshed and willing. Quite frankly Klaus wasn't too jazzed about discussing the matter further tonight either—as long as Lizzie knew it was something to discuss, soon.

Reluctantly, Klaus bit his tongue and conceded with an affirmative nod.

The young witch grinned, widely, jumping out her chair eagerly and picking up her plate.

"I'll dispose of it. Get some sleep." Klaus insisted with a weak smile.

She could see it on his face how badly this was eating at him, maybe more than her. But her mind and body were drained—from the devastating information of her fate to hitching a last minute solo trip to New Orleans. Last thing she wanted was more talking, even from Klaus—enough talking.

Placing the plate down, she muttered a low 'thank you' before walking towards the staircase and leaving Klaus alone with his conflicted thoughts.

**************************************************************

9:10 AM

Breakfast in the Mikaelson manner was, awkward.

They all sat at the food-filled dining table together—Elijah and Hayley slowly sipped on coffee, Freya and Lizzie fawned over orange juice while Klaus nursed an alcoholic drink. Elijah discreetly tried to talk to talk to his brother about Lizzie's sudden arrival but Klaus didn't budge, nor did anyone outside of their immediate family need to know about this before they could tackle it themselves. Attempts at conversation were made in between fruit and pastry platters, but the trio were worried about stepping on anyone's toes which made everything more awkward. Klaus' irritability was written on his face, even for so early in the morning. The hybrid was running on two hours of sleep, barely capable of catching any slumber after Lizzie resides in her room for the night. He sat outside her door for about an hour before retreating downstairs to his study. He tried everything to keep his mind occupied: reading, sketching, brainstorming strategies for the next faction meeting but nothing worked.

Afraid if he closed his eyes he'd have another haunting nightmare; with Lizzie as the starring role.

Even reaching out to Caroline crossed his mind, once or twice. After finally turning his cellphone back on he played her voicemail over, and over again until it brought boredom—it never did. He missed her voice, the way she rambled when nervous and her smile that he could hear through the phone.

You give me comfort, and I could really use some of that right now.

So did he.

I miss you.

I'm sorry.

I need you.

He had to turn his phone off again just to fight the temptation. The tears already glossing his eyeballs as he contemplated throwing the bloody contraption in the lit fireplace. He hated feeling conflicted.

Despite how much he loved and missed her, nothing about the merge was simple nor fixable yet she kept it from him for years. Whatever her intentions Klaus was incapable of reasoning right now—not to mention the teenage runaway who sparked his blood just as much.

When his two siblings and Hayley finished their meals and left the mansion for an 'outing', he was left alone at the table with the stubborn teenager who appeared just as displeased.

"It's a bit early for bourbon, don't you think?" She sassed, flipping her blonde hair to the side while jamming her fork into a chocolate chip waffle.

Klaus knew those were her favorite.

"Let's just say, I've earned it." He raised a glass before downing the liquor in his throat then slamming it down on the table. "Are you enjoying breakfast?"

She nodded gleefully, pushing the empty fruit bowl away as the servant came around to dispose of dishes.

"You always have the best food, especially the waffles!" Lizzie praised before scarfing another piece into her mouth.

"I'm glad." He rewarded her with a soft grin, gesturing to the servant to scurry away until it was just him and his step-daughter. "Not to put a damper on a good morning but sweetheart, we really need to talk—"

"We should go into the Quarter today." Lizzie proposed.

His forehead creased and eyebrows pulled together at her blatant disregard for his request.

"What are you talking about?"

"Hayley...Auntie Hayley?" She raised a curious brow. "I'm still not really sure what I'm supposed to call her but, I overheard her talking about meetings you have coming up. I could totally audit some of them. I've been told I'm quite the stellar listener." She suggested, making Klaus more puzzled.

He sighed. "Lizzie—"

"Or," the smirking blonde witch rose from her chair, "we can ditch boring responsibilities and turn it into a fun day trip. Just me and you like old times. We can get some lunch at that Cajun restaurant you introduced me to on the last visit, before going to Jackson Square. I could really use a new painting for my room—"

"Lizzie stop." Klaus abruptly demanded, now standing at her level with an equally stern look.

The young girl's stretched smile deflated to a withdrawn frown. Her heart pounding cranky in her chest and her body went numb—unable to feel the over-pour of emotions hanging by a thread.

Cautiously, Klaus walked towards her and anxiously licking his reddened lips until he was across the room staring before her.

His loomed over her small figure intimidatingly, focusing his attention on her while hers was directed at their feet.

"I know you've been through quite a bit in the past 24 hours, more than anyone your age should endure." Klaus reasoned, reaching out to grab her shoulders comfortingly. "This is scary and surely you must have so many questions but we can't pretend this merge isn't real. We can't pretend it isn't happening because it is and we need to deal with how to move forward."

The girl laughed. "You mean like how my mom and dad 'dealt with it' by lying to me for the past 17 years? About how I'm destined to partake in a fatal duel of survival against my own twin sister?" She spat, looking up to expose her tearful eyes. "Or how you 'dealt with it' by running away from Mystic Falls the first chance you got instead of, I don't know, staying?!"

Klaus was perplexed as Lizzie wiggled out his grasp angrily and took a step back. Her cheeks a fiery red and small hands balled into even smaller fists. She was shaking but Klaus knew better than to approach her right now.

"Three days in your little blissful New Orleans bubble and just forgot about your family huh? You don't write, you don't call. What, you're allowed leave the problem like it doesn't exist but I can't?"

Her anger was manifesting, he could feel it.

He swallowed audibly. "That-that's more complicated—"

She screamed—more like a sharp screech like nails on a chalkboard—stunning Klaus. Her hands pulled at her hair unruly.

"Why, why is everything so damn complicated with this family! Complicated this or complicated that." She threw her hands up. "Why is that always the excuse used for none of us taking responsibility for the messed up things we do? No it's not complicated, it's actually simple. Just admit it, Klaus. Be the good man you want us to think you are...and admit it."

"You're upset, I understand—"

"Stop telling me what I am!" She groaned. "Or how I feel. I'm so tired of everyone doing that. You never did before. Just...just admit it..."

Klaus' own body began to tremble, but not out of anger.

"Admit what?" He asked warily.

"You left me, Klaus you left me!"

Her screams now accompanied with her thrashing the wooden cabinets of the dining room. The glass shield, along with the multiple place settings, now a scattered pile of pieces on the carpet. Telepathically knocking over every chair until the legs individually broke off, and shattering the lights above until they blacked out

Klaus' mouth opened and closed, completely astonished at her horrifically violent actions.

"Bloody hell!" He yelled, tugging at his hair. "Lizzie, what in the—"

"You said I could always depend on you except, when I actually needed you!" Throwing another plate into the wall.

He visibly swallowed. "Lizzie..."

"Don't come near me!" The witch sharply commanded when Klaus attempted to step forward, snatching a knife off the table in a haste.

His undead heart dropped into the pit of his stomach and face drained of color. The lump bobbed in his throat, wondering how they got here and how quickly could he deescalate the situation before venturing off to worse case scenarios. If he lunged at her there would be no chance.

Seeing no other option, he stayed in place holding his hands up to demonstrate his surrender but eyes never leaving the weapon in her small hand.

"Sweetheart, please..."

"You—you were the only person I wanted to talk to about this. Not Hope, not even Josie but you!" She exclaimed through clenched teeth, waving the sharp object aimlessly. "I just found out the most devastating news anyone could ever hear for their future. Do you know how that feels, to have your life taken from you like that, hm? I was the most terrified and angry I've ever been, and so confused. I needed you but—but you weren't there." Her sobs uncontrollable as she shook her head side to side frantically, the knife still in one hand—blade facing away—as she brought both up to cover her ears. Eyes pinched shut and face a deep cherry red.

Klaus stayed silent, not wanting to trigger her any more than she already was and cause more damage.

"You weren't there. I cried out for you, called your phone religiously all three days...but you never answered. You just left, without even saying goodbye. You left me alone. You didn't protect me..."

Correction: this was the most haunting image he's ever seen.

He stood there like a deer in headlights and an agonizing ache in his core.

The emotional thread finally snapped, and there was no saving from the rapture. When Lizzie wasn't scratching at her face and hair, she was throwing more furniture in sight and belted louder cries before helplessly falling to the ground—knees hitting first.

You didn't protect me...

Klaus experienced Lizzie's episodes before, recalling their intimate conversations where she confessed the amount of times she contemplated taking her own life. The dark thoughts she never went through with, but nonetheless scared herself to even let her mind go there in the first place. Klaus never told Caroline about the things Lizzie confided in him about, and he never would, but seeing her with that knife was cutting too close to home for his comfort.

He thought he was capable of handling her emotional mishaps, but this was a blend of pent up betrayal and fear that he had zero control over. So blinded by his own turmoil all he cared about was leaving the situation as quickly as possible, barely giving a thought to the people he was leaving behind. Not thinking, if he was going through he ringer like this imagine the twins. Knowing how Lizzie felt—how she's been feeling—and him being among the ones that hurt her made him physically sick.

What a coward, he thought, to abandon his family when they needed him the most? Caring for his then was all he cared about now, but already proving he was still capable of being a selfish prick with them. Failing at the only job that mattered—being a good father.

No more.

Rushing to her side, Klaus kicked the knife out her hand first then crouched down to cradle his incredibly strong but struggling daughter in his protective arms. Pulling her against him until she felt nothing but his warmth. Her hands stayed on her side, not embracing him fully, but Klaus was just relieved that she was allowing the hug at all.

Her tears staining his gray Henley as she buried her face into his calming embrace—the whimpers and screams muffled by his shield. Klaus caressed her hair and kissed the top of her head repeatedly, whispering reassuring words that she was safe as her cries continued to unfold. He wanted her to know she could be as vulnerable as needed, no holding back or saving face for anyone. For 1000 years Klaus suppressed his emotions to appear 'strong' and 'unbothered' but it only crippled him as the years went on—until Caroline—and even then took longer to understand what those feelings meant.

The huffing and puffing didn't let up the longer he held her—chest heavy and heaving.

Klaus gasped at the feel of her wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing. Her death grip pierced into the fabric of his shirt as she healed onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. Each passing thought about the merge made her cry more.

Lizzie didn't plan on the outburst, not realizing how much she was hurting until the words began to spew. Her lungs felt shot , throat swollen and dry from the heavy cries and overflowing tears. Deep down this was the reason for her insistent denial. Discussing the matter meant it was real, and she wanted to hold onto the bliss a little while longer with the person who has made her feel the safest.

A few moments went by before Lizzie began to feel lighter and her breathing began to balance out. Her cries subtly ceased as she pulled her face from his chest. Lips plump and parted while observing the disaster she created—broken plates and glasses shattered on the floor and against the walls. Cabinet of silverware broken and chandelier barely hanging on. The shame began to overtake for not controlling her temper after working so hard towards not being an emotional wreck. As if all the progress she made was suddenly irrelevant. Hanging her head low until Klaus cradled her face in his hands, surprised to see his sunken reddened eyes matched hers.

In all the years of knowing Klaus she's never seen him cry, or any heavy emotion. He's been sad, sure, but nothing compared the bloodshot gaze directed towards her.

- Either he is the quietest crier to ever exist or I'm more self absorbed than I thought.

His thumbs swept across the skin underneath her eyes to rid them of the lingering tears, rewarding her with a sweet grin from his shaky lips. Even he was thrown off by his own wave of tears but...Klaus had a short list of people he actually cared about and seeing any of them in distress rubbed off on him.

Felt like 20 pounds had been lifted off both their chests, despite what brought them to this point.

"I'm sorry." Klaus said, his voice raspy.

Lizzie's sucked in her bottom lip, nodding her head.

"Klaus..."

He sniffled, giving her his full attention.

"I—Klaus—I don't want to die." She stammered, her throat beginning to tighten.

The hybrid nearly lost it, again. His eyes widened and mouth agape.

I don't want to die.

One of the first sentences Caroline ever said to him.

When he knew her strength before even knowing her—the baby vampire with the will to live. Who did not beg the powerful hybrid towering over her limp body for mercy, the way she didn't beg but decided to fight. How he could so easily see the same spark in their daughter's eyes...even if she didn't notice it herself.

Wiping away the remaining tears from her pretty face, Klaus nodded his head.

"I know."

Was all he could say, for now. Not even the miraculous Klaus Mikaelson wanted to give her false hope.

The exhaustion weighed down her eyes but she kept them open best she could, still holding onto Klaus but not as aggressively. Coming down from the emotional high took a greater toll than anticipated and felt if she tried to stand she'd fall over.

They were both mentally drained after confronting the realization of their mutual fear: losing each other.

Kissing her on the head again, Klaus lingered there a little longer and closed his eyes just to appreciate her—very much alive—presence. He didn't even have it in himself to be upset anymore, not even after the stunt she just pulled.

"Klaus, um, I said some bad things to my mom. Actually they were pretty horrific, and I don't think I can take any of that back." She sniffled staring up at him with regret. "How am I supposed to face her again? There's no way she'll forgive me."

He smiled. "There's no one with more forgiving bones in their body than your mother. The amount of chances she's given to people who don't deserve it, how many she's given me...you're her her daughter and she loves you more than life. There's nothing you can do that's unforgivable in her eyes."

"But—"

"You underestimate a mother's love, once upon a time so did I." The corner of his lips quirked up. "She understands you were angry and won't hold any of it against you, I assure you, though she might have some words about you running away which is valid."

They softly laughed. Lizzie bit down on her bottom lip.

"Do you still love her, my mom? Even after everything?" She timidly asked.

"Of course I do." He answered effortlessly, clearly making the girl happy.

"Good. Are you ready to forgive her?"

Klaus hummed, pressing his lips together with a sigh through his nose.

"You must be tired. Come on, I'll walk you up to your room." He said instead.

Lizzie decided not to pester further, mainly because she was in the same boat on how she felt towards Caroline or Alaric.

She allowed Klaus to help her onto her feet, making sure she was unharmed and stable enough to walk on her own. Granting him a sad but reassuring smile which was more than enough as he led her upstairs to lay down.

***************************************************

Mystic Falls, 9:30 PM

"Caroline, I never said I'm blaming you." Alaric tried convincing the pacing baby vampire.

"Our daughter ran away from home after talking with me, don't lie to me, because if the roles were reversed I would blame you." She claimed, still walking back and forth in their kitchen.

"It's not like we're running around like headless chickens anymore. We know exactly where Lizzie is and we know she's safe. Klaus would never let anything happen to her."

He was right, she knew he was but...that void remained open.

No word from Klaus or Lizzie all day, not even a simple text of when she planned to return. As badly as Caroline wanted to harass them, she rationalized—or rather Alaric talked her down—and agreed to give Lizzie time to cool off first. She was rightfully upset with both of them and needed space. The saving grace was knowing where she was and that she was safe, and also being aware of Klaus' well being. Why wasn't New Orleans her first guess?

"You need to calm down, here." Alaric calmly offered her a drink.

Caroline crossed her arms, turning her head to face him not realizing he was now beside her with two glasses of scotch in his hands. She reluctantly grabbed one before leaning against the countertop, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head.

"She hates me, they both do." Sipping on the bitter drink.

"They do not hate you—"

"You didn't see how they looked at me, or hear the things Lizzie said to me, and I deserved it."

"No." Alaric walked over to where she stood. 'This is on both of us. Mainly me because I knew even before you did. We both made an agreement about not telling the girls about the merge, we chose to handle it on our own."

"Then why I am I the only one feeling guilty?" She asked before downing the rest of her drink.

Alaric sighed. "I do feel guilty, Caroline, everyday I felt it too. You're a good person and exceptional mother and that comes with a heavy heart. You care about the people you love even if it means you get the short end of the stick. I really am sorry Klaus found out the way he did. It was never my plan to be the one to tell him."

"I know." She said.

"But it doesn't make up for anything." He realized. " I do hope Lizzie and Klaus return soon so we can finally talk as a family."

Caroline's eyebrows shot up amusedly. "Did I hear that incorrectly or did you just refer to Klaus as part of the family?"

He chuckled. "As much as I hate to admit it, and as much as I wish otherwise, you love him and so do our girls. Our clan keeps expanding and I would never be able to explain how twisted all of it is. But my personal feelings aside, he's your family which means to an extent he matters to me as well."

Not that Alaric's opinions on her relationship with Klaus ever made a difference, but this was a permanent arrangement. Caroline knew Alaric and Klaus were not friends and probably never would be, but at least being cordial and accepting of one another meant even more.

She weakly smiled, resting her hand over his on the kitchen counter. "Thank you."

Alaric returned the smile and the ringing of the doorbell immediately followed.

The two looked at each other confusingly, knowing neither were expecting any guests for the night and Josie and Hope were in their respective rooms.

Caroline waited as Alaric walked out the kitchen and towards the front door, too noses to stay in place she poked her head out to sneak a glance. The door was opened but Alaric's body was blocking who he was standing in front of him.

Moving closer, she noticed four pairs of feet and one were covered by black combat boots and the other was embraced by Alaric wearing sparkling white high top converse tennis shoes.

- They're here?!

Caroline was flashing forward before her mind could fully process her own speculations, which were proven to be true. Realizing her gasp louder than anticipated when it made all three of them turn to face her.

Instantly making eye contact with Lizzie—blue on blue—saddled and remorseful.

The young witch left Alaric's side and timidly approached her mother, twisting her lips with her hands anxiously grabbing at the straps of her backpack.

"Hi mom..."

Caroline exhaled a breath she unintentionally held before reaching out and pulling her daughter into her arms for the momma bear hug they both needed.

Lizzie felt overwhelmed with the affection, from both her mother and Klaus, but accepted wholeheartedly. Flaunting a close-lipped smile as she hugged her back just as intensely.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, do you understand me?" Caroline softly demanded into her blonde curls.

Lizzie frantically nodded and hugged tighter, underestimating how much she craved her mother's touch. With a final sniffle, Caroline finally released her with a lingering smile, kissing her on the forehead before stepping to the side so she could walk inside with Alaric—leaving her alone with the hybrid. Suddenly the nerves settled in with the blank look he flashed towards her.

Three and a half days since she last seen him and nothing changed besides her amplified feelings.

Klaus remained outside on the cold porch while she was inside standing between the threshold of the door. Caroline hated not knowing where she stood with people, and Klaus' unreadable face did nothing to subside that annoyance.

- Maybe he's still upset?

She wanted to run into his arms the moment they're alone but, what if things have changed for the worst? What if he brought Lizzie back but is planning on leaving Caroline? What if he didn't forgive her?

She nervously gulped when he finally stepped more into the light—as handsome and imperfect as ever—his straight lips curved into a full smirk.

"Hello love."

Caroline's lips struggled to form a smile in between her relieved blubbering. She covered her mouth, embarrassed by her reaction from a simple 'hello'.

"You came back..." She managed to say, tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

Klaus' smirk only widened, decreasing the gap between them until they were only inches apart with him still standing outside the door.

Having him so close but so far was the most cruel act he could do to her. Those three and a half days felt like an eternity. Where she realized her life was no longer complete without him. He had taken her—body and soul—all those years ago when he swooshed into her life and she swore a long time ago she was done denying it.

Distance was not an option anymore. She missed him, god did she miss him, and his dimpled smile and masculine presence. If he wanted to stop her he could but all she cared about was embracing the return of the man she loved.

In a blink of an eye Caroline's body was colliding with his, face buried into his shoulder and arms securely around his neck as the tears already began streaming down her cheeks.

Affection, comfort and nurture were new concepts for Klaus who unfortunately had no experience of his own growing up. Not think he would ever be granted the opportunity to extend those feelings to others, let alone have people in his life he cared about enough.

Initially taken aback, Klaus completed the hug by encircling her waist and pulling her against his firm chest subconsciously. Inhaling her warm scent, hair and presence as if for the first time. He could feel her tears staining his shirt but it didn't matter, nothing mattered besides the woman in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." She pleaded between broken sobs as she gripped onto him tighter.

"Shh, love...it's all right." He tried reassuring her, rubbing her back up and down soothingly but he felt her shaking her head.

"No, it's not." Her voice unwavering as she pulled away enough to look up at him.

Her eyes puffy and tired compared to their usual vibrant form—breaking Klaus' cold dead heart more than he thought was possible.

Klaus let out a low breath as her eyes bored deeply into his, demonstrating the severity of her plea, she continued to explain herself.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "I'm sorry for not telling you from the beginning. It was never my intent to keep anything from you."

"I know—"

"Please, let me finish." Caroline interrupted and Klaus obliged. "First of all, the twins are your daughters as much as mine and I'm sorry I ever made you feel otherwise. For someone who is constantly being reminded they're biologically not mine and having to deal with judgmental gossipers, I should have known better. I wasn't thinking. Even if it wasn't my intent to hurt you I still said it, and I'm sorry."

Klaus understandably nodded. It was as if she knew that particular section of their fight cut the deepest.

"Secondly, I was scared. I've been scared about the merge since Alaric first explained it to me and when I get scared I tend to turn people away. It's what I did to you, and them. I'm so used to making all the decisions regarding all of this because it was the only bit of control I had. Then circumstances changed when you came back into my life the way you did. I never expected us to become what we are, or you loving the girls as much as you do but there's nothing I wanted more. Our relationship is means everything to me. I'm so grateful to have you in our lives. I love you so much and I'm so—"

His lips molded against hers before she could muster another apology, desperate and commanding as her mouth opened to him from the pressure—succumbing to the warmth of his wet tongue. Pulling at each other mercilessly.

There was obviously more they needed to discuss—starting with proper discipline for their delinquent child—and solutions to theorize but neither of them could find it in themselves to care right now. After being away from each other for what felt like a lifetime the longing for one another only increased.

Caroline raised her fingers into his hair, standing on her tippy toes while lightly tugging at the light curls on the back of his neck. Venturing up to trace his scalp as she pressed his face more against hers—if that was even possible. Needing him, inhaling all he had to give. His talented tongue drew out soft whimpers from her lips before aiming for another passionate kiss to explain without words how much he missed her too.

His determined hands traveled from her face to squeezing her sides and caressing her silk covered back, bringing her closer in the most demanding but loving way. Tasting the teardrops that fell down her rosy cheeks and combined with their interlocked lips. Klaus almost felt ridiculous fore leaving in the first place, no matter how angry he was, but the distance made his love for her grow stronger. Rationalizing his thoughts instead of lashing out—progress.

She was more than apologetic, he felt it with through every kiss and tug. His anger was warranted, but deep down he knew Caroline was coming from a good place because he knew her heart. Nothing about this was easy on anyone and that was the reality they had to face, as a family. Being with Caroline now, holding and kissing her on the porch where any Mystic Falls resident or student could see, was the insight he needed. All he wanted to do was take her inside and never leave their bed. To shower her with love and affection to make up for lost time—forget about the bad shit just for a night.

Following that train of thought, Klaus' hands now rested dangerously on her hips, suggestively, their lips still moving together in perfect rhythm as he blindly lead them backwards and closing the door behind them with his foot.

[jackidy]

If You Let Me: Chapter 2

Rating: T Pairings: Demyx/Zexion, Demyx/Ienzo (Eventual/Slowburn) Characters: Various, Zexion/Ienzo Centric Setting: BBS to KH3, Canon compliant mostly

Warnings: Canon Character Death (Temporary)

Summary: “It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.” Only he did. Spending the prelude to adulthood as a nobody, a supposed empty husk of a being was never an option any of them considered, least of all a newly named Zexion who would be living every last one of them.

Note: A wee bit later than expected but that’s what happens when you procrastinate making maps for the DND campaign you run for about 2 weeks and remember your session is on saturday haha. Points if you can name the disney films i reference in this chapter.

Chapter one | Next Chapter

---

Year 2

Meetings are boring but by no means lacking interest, Zexion using this time to study the others from his low seat as they talked over their collective mission and any new world of interest. He’d read those outline reports later, after another lesson with Vexen on magic or even another round of watching Axel and Saix spar with any of the older members, mostly Xaldin, to become more attuned to their weapons.

His had yet to appear, a sign Vexen took to strengthen his magical abilities, Zexion wondering if this was in part down to him still holding a semblance of care towards him in the same vein as Even had. Nobody had ever mentioned it, at least not before him, but Zexion can’t help but wonder if he’d be ultimately replaced, the question of his age not coming into play when compared to his peers.

Everyone has something they’re good at, it’s what his fa- Ansem had always said, Zexion more than aware that his laid in observations. He was quiet, too many times had neither Axel or Saix had noticed him following them when they were all still whole, an unneeded bribe to buy his secrecy over them having snuck in once more. Ienzo had never done it for the ice cream, not fully, he’d also done it for the opportunity to discover something.

Even now, he’s still curious as to why they were always lurking around Xehanort’s underground lab.

Zexion turns as Xemnas addresses Axel, observing the way the red head tenses under his scrutinous gaze. “The world is called Prydain. It appears to already be mostly swallowed in darkness,” A waver in his voice betrays his nerves before its gone, the usual self-assured persona coming back as if the blip had never happened.

He’s getting better at lying then, Zexion notes, swinging his feet ever so slightly as he listened to the recount of the last world VIII had visited. “Dark, depressing, talk of a horned king and a black cauldron. I couldn’t really gather much information on the world.”

“And why is that?” It’s the same voice, the same mocking tone from that night, like their leader had a joke that no soul else was privy to, humoured by the failure of a mission as if he’d set up Axel to fail. Is Xemnas testing their resolve? Their dedication to the cause? He mostly reserved this antagonising for the red head, as if the rest of them had somehow already been assessed.

Zexion hates it.

“Might I suggest something?” The youngster begins, swallowing back the sudden nerves with an edged annoyance, remembering every etiquette lesson he’d sat through with both Ansem and Even. He didn’t usually speak in meetings, in fact he hadn’t done before, releasing a calming breath before continuing as he attempted to ignore the 7 sets of eyes seemingly boring holes into him. “Would it not be easier to gather information if we blended in more? I’ve only seen Radiant Garden but I don’t believe most worlds dress this way.”

The silence that follows is somehow deafening, Zexion mentally repeating his inner mantra of ‘don’t back down, don’t back down’ as the silence only seemed to grow louder, a familiar static in his ears. Blue meets orange, an elongated pause before Xemnas lets out some semblance of a chuckle, eyes flicking to the higher seats to Zexion’s left. “In that case, see that he’s mission ready. You have six months.”

The meeting continues on as it had before, a feeling of dread curling in Zexion’s stomach as he thinks over the outcome of his outburst. He’s not ready for missions, his grasp of magic is decent but he can’t even summon his own weapon yet. He’s got six months to not only figure it out but also learn to use it to defend himself. The appreciative warmth of Axel’s occasional glance does little to temper the queasiness and the ice of Vexen’s glare. 

 ----

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” He knew it was Axel before the other even spoke, ash and wood smoke, not as much underlying darkness as the others. It was odd, for sure, but not something Zexion paid much heed to as it made a welcome change. He’d taken to the grey area for once, the last place anyone would expect him to dwell, making avoiding Vexen’s wrath over his outburst all the more easier. It had been 3 hours since the meeting drew to a closer, after all.

“I know.” I just don’t like his voice when he talks like that, he adds on mentally, shifting over ever so slightly as the red head sat down beside him, eyes still focused on the reconnaissance report in his hands. Zootropolis. Nobody was…human? Maybe he shouldn’t have opened his mouth after all, frowning as he put the file aside and focused on the next one, this time thankful to see something at least humanoid.

Yet another world where long black coats would stand out too much, Zexion isn’t surprised but still feels the blow of it.

“Is that a rhino in…capris?” Axel’s voice makes Zexion look up, the redhead frowning with pure bemusement at the file Zexion had just put to the side, thumbing through images of various animals both in clothing and doing typically human things, a low whisper of “what the fuck” accompanying the sound of shuffled photographs and pages.

It isn’t as distracting he initially thought, having Axel sat beside him, easy enough to pretend the other wasn’t there as he studied the reports, the occasional sound of Axel reacting to the file or it hitting the table serving as only a minor disturbance. He’ll practise later, when he’s alone, in the privacy of his own room where prying eyes couldn’t see him.

Lexaeus’ warning over keeping the full extent his abilities a secret had gradually extended to the rest of them, despite his now ever pressing anxiety he would be replaced at the drop of a hat. Why had he spoken up? It had only made it worse, now with an added deadline of when it would happen. He should apologise, he should do something to make Xemnas not-

He’s tapped on the nose, an assault of smoke in his senses, Zexion not even bothering to tone down his glare at Axel who, to his credit, didn’t even flinch under it.  “Now that I’ve finally got your attention, I’ll ask again. Do you want to practise?” Practise? Practise what? Zexion frowns at him, trying to convey his confusion over just what the other was trying to ask him only for Axel to sigh and mutter something under his breath.

“Look, you’re like five-“

“I’m ten.”

“You’re five, Xemnas may literally be heartless but even he’s not gonna send you out on your own.” Zexion bites back the anxiety laced retort of ‘he might’, Axel leaning in conspiratorially and the child can’t help but also lean in, expecting Axel to whisper his next words.  “So, do you wanna practise changing the appearance of someone else too?”

“I’ll just practise on Vexen when we next have a lesson.”

“Vexen has seen less missions than even you have.”

He hates that Axel has a point, inhaling through his nose sharply, face twisting with annoyance as he thought over the opportunity. Practise magic and his abilities with someone who isn’t Vexen, come under potentially less scrutiny as expectations were undoubtedly lower, maybe even have a positive response that wasn’t laced with concern and the need for secrecy.

“Fine!”

If Axel is bothered by his tone, it doesn’t show, the older Nobody looking more amused than anything, over exaggerating a bow before his gangly arms gestured to the two piles of reports on the table, one clearly taller than the other. “Pick your poison, Zex.”

He doesn’t bother correcting Axel on the use of the nickname, sending him a withering look before snatching the top three reports of the closest and tallest tower, thankful these were all humanoid in appearance, stretching before turning to face Axel, already mentally hearing one of his elders scold him for having a foot on the seat. A little rebellion made life more interesting, at least that’s what Braig used to say before the accident.

Prydain. Dwarf Woodlands. Kokaua.

The first two are somewhat similar, reminding Zexion of the fairy tales his mother used to read to him, mostly simple garments in muted colours, forests and woodlands twisted into monsters. The images were mostly scenery, Zexion frowning at the lack of reference before pausing on one image of Dwarf Woodlands. A small creature, more of a blurred shadow than anything, partially hidden behind a tree at the edge of the titular woods. “What’s that?”

Axel leans over, a little too close into Zexions’ personal bubble for comfort, glancing at where the child was pointing before shrugging and leaning back after making a non-committal noise. “Probably a heartless, those little shadow ones get everywhere.” But it didn’t look like one, he wants to argue, pursing his lips but electing to not pursue it further.

He hadn’t seen many, Zexion will be the first to admit, a subject he had yet to fully research so maybe Axel was right, that it was just another heartless. If he was ever sent to the Dwarf Woodlands maybe he could even look for it himself, should it still be there.

Filing away that thought for later he turns to the last file, Kokaua, taking a moment to get over the sheer difference between the first two worlds and this one. Not so much a fairy tale but a paradise, bright and vibrant colour in place of the dull muted ones, warmth seemingly radiating from the images both in terms of heat and something more emotional and familial.

He wants to go, part of him wondering if Kairi had ended up somewhere like this. It would only be fitting, she’d always thrived in the warmth and sun, like a blooming flower stretching for the light, still made him wonder what she had ever seen in him as a friend. Closing the file, he puts it back on the pile, mentally weighing up the options between Prydain and Dwarf Woodlands before also placing the latter back, handing Prydain to Axel.

“Oh for…why Prydain?”

Zexion hasn’t schooled himself enough to hide all the amusement from his features, a teasing lilt to his voice as he responds all too matter of factly, as if the answer was obvious. “You’ve been there, you’ve seen the people.” The frustration the flashes on Axels face like fire, all too animated as he attempts to summon an argument in his favour only to ultimately fail each and every time. “You can’t find an argument, can you?”

“Shut up.” He hisses, the prompt for him to get on with changing his appearance going unvoiced but Zexion still hears it loud and clear, picturing what he wanted to appear. Using his abilities had gotten easier with time, becoming less tiring the more he performed feats but this would be the first time he’d used them like this on another, usually the subject of them being himself.

Taking a breath, he allows black coats to transform, replaced with shirts, tunics and leggings, black boots dying themselves brown. Its near perfect, the odd shimmer revealing the illusion for what it was as his brain seemed to become fuzzy around the edges. He drops the illusion at this point, frustrated at his own limitations, wanting to voice his frustrations only to be jolted as a hand came crashing down on his head, ruffling his hair a little too aggressively for Zexion’s liking.

“That went better than I thought it would, wanna go again?”

He does, Zexion waiting for the fuzz to clear before starting the process again, a new found level of giddiness in his chest over the praise.

 --------

Vexen finds him. It takes two days but he finally corners him in the kitchen, seemingly having no qualms with addressing his thoughts about Zexion’s outburst towards Xemnas in front of Lexaeus like he did with everyone else. He was a fool to reject the option of practising the illusions with Axel again, Zexion thinks, doing his best to seek an escape route without relying on a dark corridor or an overly elaborate illusion.

“Sit down, we need to talk.” There’s no room for argument in his tone, Zexion reluctantly sliding into the seat opposite Vexen, staring not at the man but at the space just beside his head. It’s always been like this, when it came to discipline. Vexen would sit opposite him and Zexion would avoid fully looking at him. “I’m not mad with you-“

“Yes, you are.” Zexion can’t help himself, taking the momentary distraction to confirm that, yes, Vexen had closed the door behind him, ultimately cutting off that escape route. Time to be creative then, he was an illusionist after all, waiting for Vexen to put his head in his hands before acting. Checking to make sure Lexaeus isn’t looking, he duplicates himself, allowing his body to disappear as his copy sits where he previously did.

“I’m disappointed and concerned.” Vexen finished, speaking through gritted teeth, an obvious sign that if he wasn’t mad before he was at least annoyed now. “Your want to defend that buffoon is admirable but, no matter how eloquently you put it, undermining the leader to his face is foolish.”

His copy remains sat at the table, schooling the clones face to look guilty as he bit his tongue to avoid spilling the remark of ‘so I should do it behind his back?’. No point in angering the elder further, no doubt he’d been stewing on this since the meeting and Zexion still isn’t one hundred percent sure if that is ultimately going to work in his favour or not.

Sliding up onto the counter, away from where Lexaeus is working, Zexion tenses as his feet hit against eh cupboard door, the rattling seemingly deafening in noise as time seemed to slow. He’d given himself away, the youngster about to reveal himself and apologise when Lexaeus interrupted, the gentle giant knocking his knee against another door. “Apologies, Vexen, I was lost in a thought.”

Speaking to Vexen but looking at him, knowingly, turning back to the book he was thumbing through on the counter barely moments later. He’d been caught by one but not the other, caught but not exposed, a positive thing Zexion hoped. “You may have befriended both VII and VIII but I feel it would be more appropriate that you limited your contact with them. They both, especially VIII, have had a negative effect on you and how you approach things.”

“Would it not be beneficial to talk with people around my own age?” Zexion replies, wincing over the stretch to call either Axel or Saix close to his age, the red head the closest to him in age at a full 7 years his senior. Vexen it appears, is just as aware of this as him, grimacing himself at the knowledge that Zexion was not only correct but truly stuck without peers his own age.

“I suppose. But you must learn to keep your feelings in check, child. We are supposed to not have them after all and more outbursts at Xemnas like that may have less favourable outcomes in future.” Vexen stands after this, reaching out to touch the clone before moving his hand back, sighing deeply. “I just want you to be careful.”

“I will be, I’m sorry.” He’s sorry for concerning Vexen more than he is for his words to Xemnas, relaxing as Vexen accepts this apology and dismisses himself, his clone dissolving with the close of the kitchen door. The silence is somehow still comfortable as the illusion over himself melts away, Lexaeus paying him no mind nor heed at seeing the small Nobody once again.

“Almost perfect.” Is all he says, gesturing to Zexion’s feet with a small smile, before beckoning Zexion over, tapping on the pages of his book. Sliding off the counter, the child hurries over, perhaps a little too excitedly, stepping up onto the foot stool set up for him before Vexen’s arrival in order to make his lessons with Lexaeus easier. “Today’s lesson may be rough on your nose so let me know if it gets too much.”

“What are we learning today?” He’d taken up cooking with Lexaeus a couple of months ago, finding the smell of a dish so perfectly cooked wasn’t so much an attack on the senses as a blessing, something that cleared the overload of darkness that seemed to cling to everything around him. The lessons were infrequent but never unwelcome, always seeming to be therapeutic when compared to his others, like they weren’t lessons to begin with so much as something the pair of them could do together that didn’t centre entirely on the fact they were no longer human.

“Cooking Base.”

 -----

He’s thankful that Xaldin starts off combat training easy, a focus on footwork above all else, closely followed by how to avoid a direct hit when there’s no access to a weapon. So, all the time for him if things didn’t change anytime soon, already a month into training with still no sign of it every appearing. Disguising others and expanding his energy to cast thundara or blizzara he could do, the latter spell bringing nothing but endless pride to Vexen, but his magic was still limited and battling whilst disguised is not something he wishes to think about without a weapon of his own.

It’s too exhausting, his energy already seeping out of him like a bleeding wound every single time he used disguise or magic, the feeling of being a burden having already bloomed within him regardless of who would be his partner for his first mission. Presuming he’d be granted that mercy, nobody still able to confirm if their speculation on Xemnas’ character was correct or not.

“You ready for today, kid?” There’s a promise of something in Xaldin’s voice, Zexion hesitating before nodding, simultaneously curious and somewhat fearful for what the other had planned for him. No threat had been directed at him, that much was true, but he’d bared witness to some of the more rigorous lessons he’d put Axel and Saix through more than once.

The part of him praying for history related mercy, as Xaldin summons not dusks but his spears, Zexion wondering if there’s been a mistake up until one pierces the floor beside him, the child swallowing as the spear dislodges, floating back to its master who seemed a little too thrilled with the prospect of potentially spearing him.

Laziness. He’d comment on the laziness of Axel and Saix when they’d make a mistake, make a snide comment about how Vexen never attended missions, of how he wasn’t pulling his weight. Xaldin wasn’t Dilan, they were nothing alike and Zexion would have to remember that. Dilan wouldn’t hurt him. Dilan would follow him and Kairi around the gardens after the strange creatures showed up to make sure they weren’t hurt. Xaldin, he believes, would not only hurt him but perhaps enjoy it.

“All you need to do is touch me. Consider that a warning shot.”

A warning shot?! Another thick swallow before Xaldin fires once more, no warning or misfire this time, Zexion fully aware that he’d be impaled if he failed to move fast enough, the fresh cut in his right sleeve testament to that. Checking for blood, he turns just in time to avoid another cut, this time to his cheek, breathing a little panicked as he watched the spears return yet again to Xaldin, swaying slightly like snakes waiting to strike.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. He repeats the mantra as Xaldin attacks once more, summoning a wall of ice, a jolt going through him with each sound of the spears connecting with the spell. He wouldn’t have much time, even with a distraction, quickly calculating how many he’d need in order to reach his teacher, taking a slow breath in and then out.

Duplication was the easiest option, the one he was most confident in, copying himself not only once but twice stopping only there as the ice wall began to shatter. Sending both distractions forward, he follows shortly after cloaking himself as he had in the kitchen, remembering what Lexaeus had said and committing it to memory. Almost perfect and he’d need better than that to best Xaldin.

Dilan had ears sharper than glass, often wouldn’t have to look up or turn to call Ienzo out on his attempts to venture out side the castle grounds alone, he could only assume Xaldin would be the same. Zexion doesn’t make it far before his suspicions are confirmed, narrowly avoiding the spear that flew past at speed, the damage it would have caused had it connected not something that child wished to think about.

“Illusions only work if you’re quiet, VI.”

Reduced to a number, Xaldin truly was both frustrated with him and enjoying himself, not bothering to turn as both his clones were impaled and faded, leaving Zexion alone with naught but the spear a hairs breadth away for company. “Let’s try again, shall we?”

If the opportunity ever arose, he’d travel back to inform his past self that lessons with Vexen, as over critical and frustrating as they were, were a joy compared to those with Xaldin, gritting his teeth as a blast of wind pushes him back further than his previous starting position and the training resumes.

 ------

If Xigbar was trying to not be noticed, he was doing a poor job of it, Zexion electing to wait for the another to announce his presence in his usual cocksure fashion as opposed to enquire as to if he wanted something. Better to either ignore the man, and hope he left, or just let him run his course on lingering in the illusionist’s space, until he decided to do whatever it was he had come to do.

Though what Xigbar wanted in Vexen’s lab when the latter wasn’t present escaped Zexion, no matter how long he thought on it.

His chair tilts back ever so slightly as Xigbar leans on it, Zexion inwardly wishing the other had only come in looking for Vexen or to view whatever oddities the other was curating, not bothering to hide his groan of annoyance. Gun smoke and supernovas, it’s an assault on the senses, grimacing as Xigbar leaned down and even closer, like he was fully aware it bothered the young Nobody and, at this point, Zexion was more than aware it was deliberate.

“No need to be so sour, Zexion, I only want to learn something.” Doubtful, Zexion thinks, giving up on the book of spells to stare at the wall opposite, still hoping that ignoring Xigbar would make him leave. It doesn’t, it never does, it’s a fool’s hope and, yet, he still decides to pray for it as if the worlds would somehow have mercy on him. “Something only your observant little head would notice.”

He’s trying to butter him up, sweet talk him into getting what he wants, knowing full well that the child loved praise and taking advantage of it. “Thank you but I have my doubts I’ll have noticed what you want.” Quicker this is over and done with, the quicker he can be left alone. The library had become out of bounds for the most part, far too many times he’d run into both Axel and Saix talking in hushed whispers that would always stop when they noticed Zexion there.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. You practically live in the library. You must have run into moon boy and cinders in there.” Zexion pauses at the names before it clicks, the arm on the back of the chair unbalancing it a little more, Xigbar now leaning down far enough he could whisper directly into Zexions ear. “Just curious as to what they’re doing.”

“They talk and Axel spends the entire time looking at Saix like he’s never seen the sun before.” Zexion replies smoothly, not an entire lie but not a full truth either. The pair talk, this much was true, but the redhead reserved the looks usually for when Saix wasn’t looking at him never when talking to him. If Xigbar isn’t happy with the answer, he doesn’t let on, nodding solemnly as if this is what he wanted to hear.

Something Zexion doubts.

“But what do they talk about?”

Zexion simply fixes him with a look at this, slightly pained and uncomfortable, hoping Xigbar got the message, thankful when he did and stood back up. He mutters something to himself that sounds vaguely like ‘did not see that coming’, almost as if he’d been hoping and expecting to have heard something more fitting with his perceived expectations. “Can I help you with anything else or are you satisfied?”

“Satisfied, for now.” There’s something to that smile that makes him uneasy, Xigbar disappearing through a dark corridor with a wink, or so Zexion thinks, leaving behind the nervous yet bemused child. What in kingdom hearts was that ‘for now’ supposed to mean and, better yet, does he even want to find out?

Its during a break from combat training that he feels the pull again, a strange tightness in his gut as he healed the fresh cuts on his cheek, left leg and side. Xaldin had temporarily benched him due to distraction, shockingly close to caring if not for the fact he’d impaled Zexion to the floor through his coat. Another repair job for Lexaeus, Zexion feeling a tinge of guilt over it.

If he was better at avoiding things, then he wouldn’t be sat casting cure on himself, wouldn’t be stuck on the side lines watching Saix and Lexaeus spar. Perhaps wouldn’t have that tug slowly seep from his stomach to his chest, having appeared the week before and had persisted on making Zexion once again aware of its presence whenever he used magic.

Was he finally get used to casting magic? Maybe not, Zexion biting his lower lip as he thought, steadily becoming lost in them. Growing accustomed to magic was less of a pull but more of a relief, becoming less drained with the use of his abilities thus granting him the ability to experiment more. It had never acted like a magnetic attraction to something he wasn’t sure of yet.

“Shit! KID!”

The yell cuts through his thoughts, looking up not at he sparring two before him but the pair to the side, a spear heading straight for him. His mind is blank, frozen in place like his body, short circuiting as he fails to think of what to do, simply throwing his arms up to protect his face and vitals from being pierced. Only it never hits, the pull in his gut replaced by a different sensation entirely, a connection that feels familiar yet he knows he’s never experienced it before, as the new found silence in the room is shattered by the sound of a spear clattering against the floor by his feet.

Opening his eyes slowly, he carefully lowers his arms, still nervous another spear would be making a beeline for him only to find a book, thick and old, floating in the air before him only to suddenly drop, a thud and a clatter as it the spear and sent it rolling away.

A book. His weapon was a book? His comrades had gained weapons such as swords, lances and claymores and he had gained a book. It’s funny, he thinks bitterly, remembering Ansem’s old words of how knowledge was the most powerful weapon at your disposal and here he was, armed with a tome bursting with pages of lord only knows what.

Its lighter than it looks, Zexion letting out an inquisitive hum as he leafed through the pages, ignoring the voice in the back of his head that losing focus on his surroundings here would be a bad idea. It’s a story and, yet, it isn’t, seeing moments of his own memories printed on pages but also excerpts of Xaldin and Axel, diagrams of their weapons and a basic outline of how they fought with them.  Almost like the book had somehow downloaded all the information it could when the spear had made contact with it.

What else was stored within? How else could he fill the pages? Questions are running a mile and minute in his head as he’s tapped on the shoulder, Saix not speaking, only nodding towards the door to leave, the teenager letting out the barest of winces when Xaldin’s voice grows in volume. Bellowing at Axel over how protecting yourself should not come at the cost of injuring the other in your party.

 ------ 

His first meeting in a while, Zexion having missed the past few due to over working himself or, after a gruelling session with Xaldin, being a little too injured to remain awake enough to attend. Nobody had reprimanded him for it, no snide comment in the grey room from one of his superiors when they found him alone, pouring over the files on worlds he might visit one day. But he still felt on edge, like something was about to happen that he’d be unable to stop even if he tried.

“How has progression with VI been coming along?” Xemnas may be looking at him but he knows the question is directed at the others, Zexion clenching his fists and grimacing. Did he have to be present for this? Of course he did, the Superior’s need to exert his dominance over them all through humiliation was well known now, especially to the youngest two members. If Saix faced the same, it wasn’t done openly and in front of the rest of the Organization.

“His magic is advancing well, a jack of all trades you could say. He’s progressing wonderfully.” Praise from Vexen, not entirely unexpected but still surprising to hear in such a public arena, he must truly be proud of himself for it. Was he bitter? Perhaps, just a little, wishing the blonde could compliment him without boosting his own ego at the same time.

“He’s lacking in physical qualities but he’ll manage. I would advise a companion or two for his first missions as, whilst his weapon has manifested, I doubt he’ll be successful.” A vote of confidence from Xaldin but he’s relieved to say the least, Xaldin had the second highest seat, second only to Xemnas, surely their superior would listen to something he had to say and at least take it into consideration.

Xemnas is quiet, nothing too unusual from the man but it still strikes a spark of uncertainty in Zexion. “Very well, we will continue as planned. Wait for me after the meeting, VI, I have something I wish to discuss.” This was it. He was going to be replaced, Xemnas was going to tell him his fate once his sermon on the power of Kingdom Hearts was over. He was going to be turned into a dusk.

Maybe this was to do with him lying to Xigbar? Had Xigbar figured out his twisted truth and reported him to Xemnas? The anxiety is eating him alive, doubts over the statement they weren’t supposed to feel emotions stronger than ever, the impulse to run and hide becoming harder and harder to ignore the longer Xemnas made him wait outside the Round Room.

“Walk with me.” Is all Xemnas says upon finally appearing, hands clasped behind his back as he strode, Zexion having to jog in order to keep up. “Tell me of your weapon, what have you discovered?” Should he be honest? Xemnas finally slowing his pace when Zexion remained silent, waiting for Zexion to catch up before continuing the walk at more leisurely pace.

“It contains a story made of both my memories and those it comes into contact with.” Zexion replies carefully, watching as Xemnas stiffened, looking back to him with such honest curiosity that the illusionist doubted he had the same man before him. Not, mocking, no sense of an inflated ego, just a lost man who looked a mix of hope and curiosity.

This wasn’t Xemnas. This wasn’t Xehanort. This was someone else.

“Interesting.” Xemnas replies carefully, his usual demeanour seeming to slip back in as a dark corridor opened up before the pair, Zexion looking between his superior and the corridor with confusion. “Search your memories for a girl with blue hair, you’re dismissed.” He leaves with that, stepping through the corridor that closes behind him, leaving Zexion alone in the naughts approach.  

[chriscolfernews]

Chris Colfer is renowned for his Golden Globe-winning performance as Kurt Hummel on Fox'sGlee, where he helped bring the story and struggles of a gay teen to an international audience.

However, the 29-year-old actor-turned-writer is also taking the literary world by storm. Colfer has written an impressive 15 novels, most notably his The Land of Stories children's fantasy series. He does not shy away from LGBTQ activism on the page. His latest book, A Tale of Magic..., which centers on people persecuted for practicing magic, "is an allegory for being gay," Hummel told The Advocate in a recent interview.

Evoking a children's version of The Handmaid's Tale, A Tale of Magic presents a world where women have no rights and are barred from reading. Additionally, practitioners of magic are condemned to death or life imprisonment. A young girl, Brystal Evergreen, rebels against this tyranny by engaging in both. In turn, she is sent to a correctional facility to "cure" her of her magic. A mysterious savior, Madame Weatherberry, rescues Brystal from detainment and recruits her on a mission to change the hearts and minds of the kingdom.

In the following interview, Colfer discusses how antigay politics of the real world inspired his magical allegory, which he calls a "manifesto for compassion. I’ve never written anything like it before." A Tale of Magic, now available on Amazon and wherever good books are sold, also recently debuted at #1 on the New York Times Best Seller list, demonstrating how Colfer's message of political resistance has resonated with young audiences.

The Advocate: Congratulations on your new book! What inspired A Tale of Magic?

Chris Colfer: Trauma, mostly. I was 11 years old when 9/11 happened. I remember I was old enough to understand what was happening, but I wasn’t old enough to understand why it was happening. And I don’t think anything is scarier for a child than confusion. I can’t imagine how scared kids must feel nowadays. So I wanted to write a book that parents and teachers could use as a point of reference when they explain the troubling things their kids and students see on the news. I hope it puts things into perspective while giving them a magical adventure at the same time.

You’ve written 15 books. What’s the secret to your productivity? Caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine. Also, isolation. Sometimes I’ll go weeks without seeing anyone besides my boyfriend and our dogs.

Who are your literary influences? Well, I apologize for sounding like a millennial cliché, but J.K. Rowling had the biggest impact on me. I wasn’t a good reader when I was young, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was the first book I actually enjoyed reading. And some of my happiest childhood memories were going to those midnight release parties. I then went on to devour everything by C.S. Lewis, Eva Ibbotson, and Bruce Coville. On some level, I think I’m still mourning the end of Harry Potter. It left a void I’ve been trying to fill by writing my own books.

What appeals to you about the fantasy genre in particular? I suppose it’s the escapism and encouragement it provides. In fantasy, a mouse can slay a dragon if it’s courageous enough. That’s very therapeutic for those of us still battling our own dragons.

A Tale of Magic, much like The Handmaid’s Tale, shows a bleak world where women have no rights. Also, practitioners of magic are subjected to imprisonment or even the death sentence. While writing the book, how much did the real world and the current political climate influence your storytelling? The current climate was the entire inspiration. A Tale of Magic was supposed to be an easy task for me. It was supposed to be the start of a simple prequel series. The working title was The Land Before Stories. But when I sat down to actually write it, I felt so angry and helpless by the state of the world, I had to do something more so I could sleep at night. Even if I was the wrong messenger, even if it didn’t do well, I wanted to do anything I possibly could to guide the next generation onto a better path. It ceased to be a prequel and became a completely original story. Now I consider A Tale of Magic my manifesto for compassion. I’ve never written anything like it before.

What is the overarching message you wanted to send by centering your story on a character who is not only discriminated against for her gender, but also her extraordinary abilities? I want young people to know that just because they’re born into an environment that doesn’t accept or appreciate them, that doesn’t mean there isn’t an environment that will. There’s a lot of love waiting for you out there if you’re willing to look for it. I’m living proof. Also, the more the world discourages you, the more it needs you.

The protagonist is sent to a “Correctional Facility for Troubled Young Women” in the hopes that she will be “cured” of her magical gifts. This storyline echoes the experiences of survivors of conversion therapy. How do you think fiction — your novel in particular — can fight against antigay forces like "ex-gay" therapy in the real world? Thank you for making that connection. In my opinion, the purpose of fiction, besides providing an escape, is to subconsciously plant seeds of reason and compassion in people’s minds. That was the sole mission of the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault. After reading about the horrible and abusive experiences at the Correctional Facility in A Tale of Magic, I hope my readers will grow up with a resentment of conversion therapy already ingrained within them. If I can get them to sympathize with the struggles of a fictitious magical community, then maybe, just maybe, they’ll be more likely to sympathize with the struggles of other communities fighting for acceptance in the real world.

In addition to A Tale of Magic being a novel, do you see it as a work of LGBTQ activism? I’d like to think so. Although, I have no control over how other people will interpret it. For me, the magic in A Tale of Magic is an allegory for being gay. The characters are raised to believe magic is demonic and unnatural. They’re sent to camps where they “pray the magic away.” And they’re all on a mission to prove "magic isn’t a choice." But what magic represents for me may be different for a little girl in Egypt or a teenage boy in Japan. We all have obstacles that hold us back. We’re all assigned different stigmas based on our circumstances. So, whatever your “magic” may be, A Tale of Magic is about overcoming the forces that suppress it.

We’re living in a world when books are still being banned — and the written word itself is under attack. As a novelist, do you see it as your duty to fight against censorship? Absolutely. You have to be incredibly strategic to get your book into the hands of the people who need it the most. Especially when your books have LGBTQ themes. So many authors get criticized when they reveal a character’s orientation or gender identity after publication instead of on the page. But I don’t always agree with those critics. In some places books are instantly banned if they have any LGBTQ characters or LGBTQ references whatsoever. But there are ways of getting representation into those territories that goes under the radar. That’s the purpose of the character Xanthous Hayfield in A Tale of Magic. His orientation is never directly addressed in the first book, but there are enough clues so a closeted little boy living in an oppressive country can relate to him and know he’s not alone. But I don’t think censorship can survive the modern age. In fact, I think governments shoot themselves in the foot when they apply censorship. It instantly triggers a wave of curiosity and publicity you can’t buy. So please, by all means, ban me.

Did you have a Madame Weatherberry, the "fairy godmother" character in A Tale of Magic, in your life? My grandmother was my biggest cheerleader growing up. She made me believe in myself, and I think that’s the greatest gift you can give a kid, even if you don’t necessarily believe their dreams are practical. I used to sit with her for hours and hours on her back patio and talk. We’d make game plans of how I was going to accomplish my goals while she smoked and polished her guns.

You dedicate your novel to those whose shoulders you stand on — presumably LGBTQ pioneers. Did you have any particular figures in mind when making this dedication? There are a hundred names I could list that everyone knows, but it’s really about the people who are unknown. I get pretty emotional when I think about it. There are millions of people who never got to reap the benefits of their courage and honesty, but because they stood up when they did, I get to do what I love and be with who I love. I can’t imagine the bravery it took. Even right now, there are people in other parts of the world reading this website in secret, looking for encouragement as they fight for their right to exist. Wherever they are, I hope they can feel the future’s gratitude.

If you could have any magical ability, what would it be? Honestly, I’d be happy with just a faster metabolism. That sounds pretty magical.

What appeals to you about your literary work, versus the world of television and film? I suppose it’s the control. When I write a novel, it can be anything and everything I want it to be. I get to tell the story and describe the images exactly as they exist in my mind. In film and television there’s always so many cooks in the kitchen it’s difficult to produce a pure vision. There’s a lot of compromising and negotiating and it requires a lot of patience. Also, I can write books in my pajamas. It doesn’t get better than that.

Would you adapt A Tale of Magic into a movie or TV series? I would love to see A Tale of Magic come to life. I guess it all depends on my experience with the Land of Stories film adaptation. For my own physical safety, I hope the Disney/Fox merger settles so we can finish it. There are millions of kids around the world who are going to want to hurt me if they don’t get a movie soon.

[lailaliquorice]

even stars are small from a distance

second fic in one day babeyyyy, and to balance out this morning’s fluff now we have angst. this is for a prompt from a lovely anon which was parrlyn h/c with one comforting the other after a nightmare with kisses. hope this was ok!

I haven’t written parrlyn in ages so this is for all the very patient parrlyn friends on the sixcord who have been eagerly waiting!! it’s essentially a rewrite of ‘one more chance’ but with a lot more gay(tm) bc established relationship this time. I know everyone and their cat has written anne having nightmares but hey we love a cliche and that’s all I have to say with this one bc it’s approaching 2am and I need sleep but hope everyone enjoys it c:

Considering how their show was essentially them retelling their stories to four hundred people every night, Cathy still managed to be incredibly private about her former life. It was something that puzzled Anne but didn’t bother her at all; she knew that they all coped with their secrets in different ways and if Cathy’s method was to keep herself hidden then she wouldn’t question it. She would try and make sure her girlfriend didn’t bottle too many things away if she seemed overly stressed any time, but for the most part she just enjoyed and appreciated the privilege of being told any titbit of Cathy’s history.

But what that did mean was that when absent-mindedly scrolling through an article written about the historical aspect of the show, Anne received the unwelcome shock of her life.

It was an unspoken pact that they wouldn’t search up facts on each other’s past lives without permission, since being told to google each other’s names to get filled in during their first rehearsals felt like the equivalent of being told to nose through each other’s diaries. They all knew enough about the queens they hadn’t lived alongside through the show itself anyway. As a result the article was one of the first that Anne had ever read about their Tudor lives and for the most part there were no surprises; the only notable piece of information she tucked away being how Aragon had wanted to send Henry the body of the Scottish King she’d had killed in battle while he was away, something which spoke so true of Catherine’s power as Queen that she couldn’t believe it wasn’t mentioned in the script.

That was until she reached Cathy’s section of the article though. She’d largely skimmed through Kat’s, knowing she couldn’t read about her baby cousin’s suffering without her stomach churning, and was half-tempted to skim through the account of what the final solo didn’t include about Cathy’s life with the King for the sake of her privacy. But before she could click out of the article, a single word in the middle of a paragraph caught her attention.

‘Beheading’.

Anne’s heart rate quickened as she scrolled back upwards. There was no need to mention that in Cathy’s life story unless it was a reference to Kat’s life or her own, which she soon realised it wasn’t. Horror deepened in her stomach as she read of the arrest warrant that was sent out, how Cathy had discovered the plot to have her replaced and been forced to beg the King for her life. How she’d been forced to fight off an armed guard who hadn’t been told of the King’s forgiveness. How the stress of the discovery had made her ill.

How she’d come within a hair’s breadth of losing her life in the same way that Anne had.

Her fingers hovered over her scar as her thoughts raced wildly. She knew that Cathy had known of her in her old life, knew that the entirety of Europe had treated Anne’s death as a warning for what could happen if he was disappointed by his wife. A sudden stabbing pain in her neck forced her to grit her teeth hard, tears pricking at her eyes as she thought of just how afraid she must have been.

She longed to pull her girlfriend into a hug and promise her that she’d never let anyone hurt her again. But that want was quashed by the realisation that she could never let Cathy know that she knew.

So she shut her laptop and said nothing, just kissed Cathy when she returned from her day out with Aragon and listened intently to what the two of them had got up to. She did the show without a hitch, aside from the crescent-shaped indents she pressed into her palm from squeezing her hand closed during Cathy’s solo. And she greeted fans afterwards with no indication that anything was wrong, her voice only failing her for a moment as she watched Cathy sign beneath ‘survived’ with the awful knowledge of how she almost hadn’t.

The only time she came close to cracking was when they were both sat in Cathy’s bedroom after the show. A yawn from Anne prompted a gentle reminder from Cathy that she needed to go to bed soon, and the thought of leaving Cathy alone in the darkness made Anne suddenly burst out “Can I stay here tonight?”

Cathy blinked with surprise for a moment before she nodded. “Of course you can love, you never need to ask. Are you ok though? You’ve seemed a little quiet since I got home,” she said, a concerned look in her eyes as she met Anne’s gaze.

For a moment she was tempted to tell her everything she’d found out, but then she pictured the look on Cathy’s face upon having her privacy violated and she shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

But her confidence didn’t last for long, as her overactive mind betrayed her the minute she fell asleep in Cathy’s bed and started to dream.

The first thing Anne noticed was that she was in the courtyard by the Tower of London. Immediately she tensed; this courtyard had been the setting for many of her nightmares so it was easy enough to guess exactly what was about to happen. But then she realised that she was part of the crowd rather than standing atop the scaffold, which had never happened before. She could see the executioner’s block waiting though, her scar tingling at the sight of it, so even if it wasn’t her up there she still knew exactly what would happen.

But her grim resolve to see it through shattered when she looked to the scaffold and saw who was standing there. It was Cathy.

Anne started to struggle against the crowd as she watched her approach the block, her thin white chemise a poor excuse for armour against the jeers of the onlookers. Despite how much she tried to push forwards she found herself swept further and further back, helpless to reach out for Cathy as she walked like a zombie towards the block and knelt down. There was no emotion in the face she knew so well – it would have been easier to bear if this Cathy was the one in the portraits not the one in Anne’s lock screen but of course she wasn’t granted that mercy – until she looked up from the ground and met Anne’s gaze.

Her eyes were full of the one emotion that Anne had never seen on her girlfriend’s face. Hopelessness. And it felt like an arrow to her heart.

She started to scream as Cathy moved sluggishly to place her head on the block, ignoring the accidental blows she was dealt by the crowd’s enthusiasm. It was nothing like Anne’s own execution had been; these people were out for blood. These people wanted to see her brave, beautiful Cathy dead and the very thought made her feel sick.

By the time the executioner appeared out of the shadows Anne’s throat was raw, but still the sight of the figure from her nightmares renewed the panic pounding at her chest and she shouted even louder. She hardly even knew what she was screaming; a plea for mercy, an urgent love confession, even a desperate wish to take her place. But her prayers were ignored as the sword was raised, glinting under the cruel sunlight exactly how she remembered.

The executioner swung. The crowd roared. Screams of horror and triumph blurred into a high pitched wail as the world went white and she felt her legs folding beneath her. And then-

Anne was still screaming as she jolted awake, her cheeks ravaged by tears and her chest heaving for breath. Immediately she was attempting to stifle her cries, one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs and the other hand over her racing heart as she tried to regulate her breathing though. The usual techniques did nothing though as her brain kept replaying the image of Cathy losing her head, and she retched dryly as her stomach gave a sickening turn. Her consciousness started to blur around the edges again as her lungs ached for oxygen.

“Stay with me sweetheart, breathe for me please.”

The voice through the dark made her jump in shock, realising for the first time that she wasn’t in her own room. A fumbling sound was followed by the bedside light being turned on, to reveal Cathy looking at her with sleep-mussed hair and a stricken expression.

Her hands still trembled and the sick feeling in her stomach refused to leave but everything else stilled as she stared blankly at Cathy for several seconds while her brain struggled to catch up. But then she frantically pushed herself to her knees, not giving Cathy a chance to react as she lunged forwards and kissed her.

It was messy and desperate, but it was enough to prove to Anne that she was there.

Cathy reacted quickly enough to support Anne before she slipped, one hand on her waist and the other cupping Anne’s cheek as she kissed her back. Only a couple of seconds passed before Anne was sobbing into Cathy’s chest instead, whispering “You’re alive,” over and over again as she clung to Cathy like a lifeline.

“I’m alive,” Cathy replied in a voice so full of conviction that Anne could just about believe the warm arms around her weren’t a figment of her imagination. Her shaking limbs felt as though the strength had been sapped from them so she couldn’t do anything but sink into Cathy’s embrace, letting out a shuddering breath as she buried her face in Cathy’s shoulder and waited for her nausea to subside.

Several minutes passed before Cathy gently pushed Anne back to look at her in the eye. “Please tell me what’s wrong my love, I’m worried about you,” she said softly, tilting Anne’s chin up with her finger to look up at her.

Anne hesitated a moment longer, still afraid of Cathy’s reaction as she’d been that afternoon, but the lingering terror from her nightmare had beaten down her walls enough that she couldn’t stop the truth from spilling out. “You nearly got beheaded,” she choked out.

As Cathy’s expression fell Anne couldn’t bear to keep looking to see the rest of her reaction, wrenching her chin out of Cathy’s fingers to cover her mouth with her palm. “I found an article earlier and it said he nearly killed you too,” she sobbed, her words muffled by her hand and her distress. “And I dreamed about my execution but it was you instead and I couldn’t save you. And I’m so sorry I found out and for invading your privacy by finding out I promise I wasn’t trying to and I trust you to tell me shit but I’m just so so angry for you and-“

“Oh sweetheart, it’s ok,” Cathy said softly, her hand on Anne’s shoulder interrupting her hysterical tirade. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret because I didn’t want you to know, it was just because I didn’t want you to be upset. I promise I would have told you. One day you’ll know all my secrets love, I’m sorry I’m not better at sharing things with you.”

Her apology sounded so sorrowful that Anne looked up at her and shook her head. “Love you,” she whispered because those were the only words she could come up with at that point, too exhausted to think of anything more coherent to follow up Cathy’s comment. As a final bit of proof that Cathy really was ok she reached out to place a hand at the back of her neck, thumb smoothing over the smooth skin where Anne’s scar lay, leaning forwards to touch her forehead against Cathy’s.

Cathy smiled at her through the gloom, nuzzling Anne’s nose with hers before pulling her into a firm embrace. “I love you too, so so much,” she murmured next to Anne’s ear, pressing a kiss to Anne’s hair before resting her head atop hers.

Anne began to wonder if she was going to fall asleep resting against Cathy before her girlfriend shifted underneath her, and Anne let out a quiet groan as she sat back up. Cathy giggled lightly as she tilted Anne’s chin up again, looking at her lovingly for a moment before leaning forward to kiss away the tear tracks on Anne’s cheeks. “Do you think you’re ready to sleep again?” she asked.

“Mhm. Yeah,” she hummed tiredly.

“Alright, come on then,” Cathy said, straightening out the covers from where Anne had kicked them back and settling back down on her pillow. Once there she pulled Anne down to lay in the crook of her side, and Anne hummed contentedly as she settled with her ear resting over Cathy’s heartbeat. The low sound was enough to reassure her that her dream wouldn’t come again and Cathy was alive and right next to her, and no executioner’s sword was ever going to hurt them again.

Cathy’s fingers running through Anne’s hair made the last remnants of tension seep out of her limbs, and she sighed lightly as she hugged Cathy close with an arm over her stomach. “Go to sleep love. I’m right here,” Cathy whispered.

Anne hummed something that might have been a thanks if she wasn’t delirious with exhaustion. Seconds later she was asleep, safe in Cathy’s embrace and the promise that she was never going away.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Remnants, Part IV

This chapter is another build--there’s going to be a little more action in the next.

    Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

    Thanks so much to @kitkatcronch @kpopperotp12 @seafrost-fangirl  @sassystrawberryk and @perfect-rami for reading : ) If anyone else wants added to the taglist, let me know. I’ve greatly appreciated all of the feedback!

    Warnings: Another wee, mild reference to sex. Ahk is a solid 20 years of age to be certain to avoid any squick factor.

* * * * *

  You couldn’t stop thinking about Ahkmenrah’s long-returned-to-dust bedtime garment. Of course, you couldn’t stop picturing him in it and chastised yourself for that, but as his friend, you also longed to help him combat some of that nostalgia. You were really beginning to create a vortex of chaos when it came to your thoughts about the once-pharaoh. You saw him as a person now, a complex, oddity of a person who loved the thing you loved the most, too. The distance you told yourself to keep was now more of a suggestion than a rule.

   You sighed, frowning and mentally swearing to recement your own rule. It was for Ahkmenrah’s safety as much as it was for yours. You two couldn’t have a life together without you sacrificing everything, and you couldn’t bear the thought of having to break his heart if the two of you got in too deep. The true problem was that it was very easy to reestablish a solid boundary when you weren’t looking into his beautiful, intense eyes.

   Oh! Senet! Yes! You thought to yourself, remembering the board game that the ancient Egyptians played. While the rules had never really been discovered, you were sure Ahk would know exactly what it was. There was an antiquities store in Greenwich Village that specialized in recreating ancient artifacts. There was a niggling remnant of a memory in the back of your mind of you gliding your hand across the smooth top of the board, wondering what it would have been like to sit on a rooftop with a fire and the night sky providing just enough light as you played, the burbling of the Nile in the background, its din a sweet music to your ears.

   Yes. Senet would make the perfect gift for Ahkmenrah.

As you packed up your bookbag after a long day at school, you mentally mapped out your late afternoon. You had just enough time to journey into the Village to try to find the game for Ahk before you needed to begin the first chapter of your dissertation. Today had been a great day as you met with the three professors who would be serving as the chairs for your dissertation. Out of the three, there was only one who intimidated you. She was known for being tough, but you weren’t about to let something as little as criticism get in the way of your dream.

  You were just about to step out when your phone buzzed.

  “Done. Give it a look?”

  Your thumbs hovered over the letters as you decided when to meet Ryan.

  “Busy tonight. Tomorrow?”

  “Brunch. North Square on Waverly?”

  “Perfect :)”

  A small part of you longed to tell Ryan about the museum; he would love it, and you knew he would keep it a secret. However, you also knew it just wasn’t worth the risk. You considered Ryan your closest friend, but Rebecca was family, and she had risked everything by telling you about the museum’s secret. You also remembered Larry’s torturous induction; Ryan’s dissertation would be finished by the time Larry actually let him meet an important display.

  You shoved your phone into your bag and headed for the Village, picturing the delight on Ahk’s face when you surprised him tonight.

  * * * * *

Even though you had to explain some of the newer pieces, like dice, Ahk was impressed with how close the reconstruction was. He immediately went over the rules and you then spent the better part of the night losing to him again and again. He was so happy that you didn’t mind at all. And when you finally won a single game, you were highly suspect that he had let you win.

  “May I ask you something?” you questioned as you moved your piece to yet another square of bad fortune, falling further behind Ahk’s own seemingly blessed by the gods gamepiece. 

  Ahkmenrah rested his chin on his hand, a look of concentration on his face as he stared at the Senet board.

  “You may ask me anything.”

  “What was it like for you at Cambridge?”

  Ahk furrowed his brows and looked up, disregarding the dice as he explained, “Well, when I arrived at Cambridge, it was the first time that I had awoken since my entombment. According to Jack, he was the scholar assigned to examine the findings from my tomb and he later became my close friend, the tablet was stolen right before my tomb was sealed. During the excavation of the pyramids, it was actually discovered sealed up beneath a statue of Anubis. For years, people thought it was cursed. Jack, he was such a clever man, pieced together that it was the Tablet of Ahkmenrah, although he got quite a shock when he reunited me with it.”

  The game lay forgotten between the two of you as you listened to Ahkmenrah’s story. He had a strange look in his eyes, as if remembering something bittersweet that he had tried very hard to forget.

  “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to.”

  “No, Y/N. I swore to always tell you the truth. It is painful to remember, but I suppose it’s a good kind of pain. It means I’m still human, still alive.”

  Yes, you thought, it most certainly did.

  Your mouth formed a small o of horror as you realized, “So you came to life, literally thousands of years later. That had to have been a shock!”

  Ahkmenrah barked out a sharp laugh.

  “To put it mildly, yes. If it weren’t for Jack, I think I would have lost my mind. He was so patient, obviously eager to learn, like you, but he really took time to explain everything to me. He would sneak me out to take me to all of Cambridge’s museums, and he even took me to the Museum of Natural History. He helped me understand where I was, what life was like now—well, then. He taught me the history of my empire, and more importantly, empathized with me as I grieved for the loss of everything my people had worked to build.”

  “Oh, Ahk, do you still feel that way? Like your Egypt has been lost?”

  “In some ways, yes, because it certainly has. That way of life, my way of life, is gone. But Jack showed me many of the things that my people have given to this world and that brought comfort.”

  “And that was in the 1940s? 50s? We now know even more about the advancements that are credited to the Egyptians, probably because of the work of people like Jack.”

  And then it dawned on you: “Wait a minute. Jack. As in Jack Cecil Evans?”

  “Yes. Do you know of him?”

  You reached into your backpack and pulled out your laptop. Ahkmenrah moved to stand behind you, watching your fingers dash over the keys. Google retrieved several images of Jack, along with the many articles he published on the subject of the Tomb of Ahkmenrah. Ahk was Jack’s life work.

  Ahkmenrah reached out a shaky finger and traced it over the image of Jack on your screen.

  You quietly asked, “What happened to Jack?”

  Ahkmenrah took a deep breath and returned to his seat across from you, his eyes glistening in the light.

  “He died a few years before my exhibit was moved to the United States. I suppose that is when I really began to understand loneliness. Jack knew he didn’t have much time left, so he ensured that I would be safe, able to get out and to move. It wasn’t long, though, before the allure of my tablet attracted those awful men who moved me here and locked me up.”

  Silence settled between the two of you, Ahkmenrah lost in his memories, you lost in making sense of the layers of pain that Ahkmenrah hid beneath his cheerful demeanor.

  “Ahkmenrah, if there’s one thing I could do for you, what would it be?”

  “You have given more already than I could have ever hoped. You are proving to be as good of a friend as Jack, except, you’re a bit younger and much prettier.”

  Your soft laughter pulled a smile from Ahkmenrah.

  “I’m being serious, though. What do you want or wish you could do?”

  Ahkmenrah’s face transformed as it filled with a childish excitement, making him look much younger than his 20 years. 

  He spoke softly, as if afraid someone might overhear: “I want to see the city, really see it. I want to know life as a normal, modern man.”

  Once again, you found yourself forsaking your rule, and you broke out into a grin because Ahkmenrah’s excitement was contagious.

  “Ahk, that’s a pretty simple request.”

  “Is it? You go and ask Larry. I’ll wait here and listen for his bellow.”

  “Larry doesn’t own you. You were a king, Ahk.”

  “Perhaps Larry needn’t know?”

  “No, he needn’t,” you said slowly, returning Ahkmenrah’s sly grin.

  You began to chew on your bottom lip, thinking deeply about what you would need to do to take Ahk out for a night. Clothes and shoes, maybe practice with those, figure out places to go, you didn’t want to wander around in the city and overwhelm him, and—

  “Care to share?”

  “I think we need a night to plan. I can pick up some clothes tomorrow morning and tomorrow night we will make sure they fit. Then we need to plan out where you want to go.”

  Ahkmenrah, his voice filled with anticipation, asked, “May I offer some suggestions of places I have been most curious to explore?”

  “Of course! It’s your night!”

  “There was a photography exhibit a few months ago that showed the view from the Empire State Building. I am curious to see just how high this building is.”

  “Done. I’ve got a friend who can get us tickets. What else?”

  “Music—some of my favorite nights during my youth were sneaking into my parents’ parties and listening to the music, watching the dancing and revelry. I miss. . .people.”

  You smiled, sadness tugging at your heart, but knew this wish was an easy one to fulfill, too.

  “Also as good as done. I know the perfect place in the Village, and it’s near my apartment.”

  Ahkmenrah’s face threatened to split into two as his grin widened even further.

  “Jack told me about life and he explained it well, but he never let me live it. When I was locked in my sarcophagus, I spent most nights worrying that I would never get the chance to live. And you know how Egyptians felt about the gift of life.”

  Indeed, you did. Well, so much for your rule—you’d have to once again reconcile that what you were doing for Ahk was more meaningful than maintaining a boundary. Besides, just because you were giving Ahkmenrah a taste of life didn’t mean that you were in love with him; you were being a good friend.

  “I’m going to duck out a little early tonight to get some sleep. I’m meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow, before work, so I’ll need to run the errands first.”

  “Thank you, Y/N. I am forever indebted to you for your kindness.”

  “Uh, remember those 4,000-year-old papyruses you gifted me with to allow me to finish my dissertation proposal? I’d say we are barely scratching even.”

  Ahkmenrah couldn’t stop smiling and you elbowed him in the ribs as he walked you to the front desk to say goodbye to Larry.

  “Stop smiling,” you hissed. “You’re terrible at being discreet.”

  Ahk composed himself for all of 10 seconds.

  “Fun night?” Larry asked, raising his brow and taking in Ahkmenrah’s unabashed happiness.

  “Y/N brought me a game that we used to play in my time. It was a real. . . blast from the past.”

  Larry laughed and you chuckled, too.

  “You’re really catching onto the slang, Ahk,” Larry said.

  “I’ve always been a quick study.”

  “Goodnight, boys. I’ll see you tomorrow!” you called, waving as you dashed out.

  * * * * *

Shopping had been a success, although you were now ten minutes late for your brunch with Ry, which was highly uncharacteristic for you.

  “I was about to call the coppers.”

  “Sorry—had to run some errands. I’m starving, though!”

  You picked up your menu and scanned for what you wanted. Ryan knew you well enough to know that you couldn’t focus on anything he said until you determined what you were ordering. Once the waiter returned and the two of you placed your orders, you turned your full attention to him.

  You asked him how he thought his proposal turned out, and he explained what he wanted you to look for during your proof. He knew your time was limited, but you assured him that you didn’t mind.

  Conversation flowed without effort and you found yourself smiling, falling into the charm that was Ryan. Things were so easy with him, so easy in the bright light of the sun that streamed through the window of the café.

  “Our mates are all headed out tomorrow night. Any chance I can convince you to meet up?”

  “Tomorrow, huh? I’ve—”

  “You’ve got plans,” Ryan said, his smile faltering a bit. “Any chance you wanna tell me what’s got you so busy all of a sudden?”

  “The same thing that’s going to have you so busy soon enough. I thought you and I didn’t do the whole jealousy bit?”

  “I’m not jealous—just curious.”

  “Mmm. You forget that I know you better than that.”

  “I don’t want you working too hard. You know how you get, Y/N. Your passion for your research is enviable. Is it wrong to wish that maybe you were that passion about something else? To keep a little hope that maybe it could be me?”

  “If you recall, I showed up at the airport and begged you to take me to Australia with you for the summer after the first year of our ‘friendship.’ God, I’m still not over that embarrassment.”

  Ryan laughed, the sparkle returning to his eyes.

  “What happened to that girl?”

  “She’s still here, just a little preoccupied.”

  “Well, I’ll text you, just in case you change your mind about Saturday.”

  Ryan held the door open for you as you exited the café. He pulled you into a tight hug, and asked, “Going my way?”

  “You know I am,” you replied and linked your fingers with his proffered hand.

  You and Ryan walked to NYU, hand in hand, the sun warming your skin and wrapping you up in his radiant energy.

  * * * * *

You had bought two sizes of everything, planning on returning what didn’t fit to the store tomorrow. It had been a long time since you had a boyfriend to dress up, so you were really loving the idea of seeing what Ahk looked like in your purchases. You also brought along some product to attempt to tame his curls.

  You crammed all of your purchases into your backpack, while simultaneously cramming down any thoughts about what you were doing. Brunch with Ryan had reminded you of exactly why you shouldn’t be getting so close to Ahkmenrah. The two of you would never stroll hand in hand through the New York streets in the sunlight. You could never wake up in Ahk’s arms, and the thought of exactly what would happened if you did should have been enough to scare you straight.

  Should have been.

  Except, once again, there he was, and he was barely able to keep from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet the instant he saw you.

  Ahkmenrah swept forward, his cape billowing behind him, as he grabbed your hand.

  “Come on—I know where we can go to avoid detection.”

  You followed Ahk through the museum and into an old, clearly forgotten storage area. Stacks of boxes lined the walls, overflowing from the shelves that also had boxes and items of antiquity stacked to the ceiling. The room was about the size of a modest living room and was cast in a greenish hue from the single, fluorescent overhead light.

  Ahkmenrah locked the door, stating that as far as he knew, no one at night had a key.

  He started shedding his garments, faster than you could register and when he pulled his belt off, you said, “Whoa. I know nakedness isn’t, like, a thing for Egyptians, but it is for me, well, us, you know what I mean. . .”

  “My apologies. I am just so eager!”

  You laughed shaking your head and pulling the clothes from your bag.

  Ahkmenrah stood patiently now, and it occurred to you that he seemed to be more presence than actual personhood. He was fit, gorgeously proportioned, but he wasn’t a big guy. You sifted through your purchases and selected the smaller sizes.

  You pulled out a package of boxer-briefs and explained to Ahkmenrah that he should put these on before his pants.

  He examined the underwear closely, his nose scrunching up at the idea of being constrained, then proceeded to ask no less than ten questions. You considered yourself a patient person, but finally just exclaimed, “Ahk! Try them on!”

  He hooked his thumb into the tie of his shendyt and pulled, and you whirled around to give him the privacy that he clearly wasn’t concerned about.

  You listened to his shuffling and when he stilled, you asked, “Are they on?”

  “Yes.”

  You turned around and drank in the sight of the once-king in nothing but a snug pair of white boxer-briefs. The white complemented the darkness of his skin, even under the subpar lighting, and for the first time, you noticed the faint trail of dark hair that led beneath the waistband of his newly donned garment. His legs, just as perfectly proportioned as the rest of him, were muscular, strong, and you found yourself wondering if you could make the muscles of those thighs twitch if you were on your knees—

  “Does this look suitable?”

  You swallowed as you attempted to appear perfectly in control of your body’s reaction and nodded.

  “What’s next?” Ahkmenrah asked, still barely containing his excitement.

  You grinned, “Pants.”

  “Damn.”

  “Come on. Don’t discount them before you’ve even tried them.”

  You had chosen a pair of tight-fitting tan pants made of a soft, stretchy fabric. You were a little worried about his reaction to them, so you had also bought a pair of looser fitting jeans as a backup.

  You handed the pants to Ahkmenrah and he put them on slowly; you couldn’t hold in your giggles at the faces he made as he pulled them up his legs and over his hips. It was like you’d made him try on pants made of fire and barbed wire instead of cotton.

  Then, he puzzled over the hook-snap and the zipper for a moment before declaring he was afraid of getting something important caught if he were to zip up the pants. You laughed and told him to tuck himself in while you grabbed the two sides of his open pants. You assured him that everything would stay safe as you zipped up the zipper. Ahkmenrah sucked in a breath, clearly terrified. You showed him how the snap worked, and once he released the breath he was holding, you stepped back to look at him.

  The pants were certainly snug, but they fit him well. He was standing with his legs comically spread a part, clearly unsure about being this confined.

  “And this was why I wanted to practice,” you said as you pulled a shirt out of your backpack.

  “Alright, last piece before shoes. I think you’ll like this one.”

  You pulled out a thin, black, long-sleeve shirt. You figured it would be the perfect balance for a New York summer night that was muggy, but sure to cool as the night wore on. 

  “This is nice,” Ahkmenrah said as he ran his hands over his arms and smoothed out the material.

  “I thought so—it’s primarily a linen blend, something not too far removed from your clothing. And now for shoes.”

  You pulled out a pair of black, high-top tennis shoes that looked like a more expensive version of Converses. Ahkmenrah’s feet ended up being a little bigger than you thought, so you’d have to exchange for a size up, even though he didn’t want to admit that his toes were flush against the shoe.

  “I promise it’s not a big deal. I’ll bring the right size tomorrow. Our night won’t be delayed. You wouldn’t even believe how easy it is to just get another pair of shoes.”

  “I believe it if you say it is true, but it is still difficult to imagine.”

  “If we have time, we’ll walk by a shoe store so you can see just how many pairs are readily available.”

  “Do I look acceptable?” Ahk asked, biting his lower lip, his eyes shining with worry.

  You smiled as you took in Ahk’s appearance before nodding your affirmation.

  “But let’s get to work on that hair.”